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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/34277-8.txt b/34277-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2c9504a --- /dev/null +++ b/34277-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11274 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Mysterious Disappearance, by Gordon Holmes + +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.org + + +Title: A Mysterious Disappearance + +Author: Gordon Holmes + +Release Date: November 11, 2010 [EBook #34277] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE *** + + + + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + A MYSTERIOUS + DISAPPEARANCE + + BY + GORDON HOLMES + + NEW YORK + EDWARD J. CLODE + 156 FIFTH AVENUE + 1905 + + + + + Copyright, 1905, by + EDWARD J. CLODE + + _The Plimpton Press Norwood Mass._ + + + + + CONTENTS + + + I "_Last Seen at Victoria_!" 1 + II _Inspector White_ 12 + III _The Lady's Maid_ 22 + IV _No. 61 Raleigh Mansions_ 30 + V _At the Jollity Theatre_ 41 + VI _Miss Marie le Marchant_ 48 + VII _In the City_ 56 + VIII _The Hotel du Cercle_ 64 + IX _Breaking the Bank_ 72 + X _Some Good Resolutions_ 83 + XI _Theories_ 91 + XII _Who Corbett Was_ 101 + XIII _A Question of Principle_ 109 + XIV _No. 12 Raleigh Mansions_ 119 + XV _Mrs. Hillmer Hesitates_ 131 + XVI _Foxey_ 142 + XVII _A Possible Explanation_ 152 + XVIII _What Happened on the Riviera_ 163 + XIX _Where Mrs. Hillmer Went_ 175 + XX _Mr. Sydney H. Corbett_ 183 + XXI _How Lady Dyke Left Raleigh Mansions_ 194 + XXII _A Wilful Murder_ 205 + XXIII _The Letter_ 216 + XXIV _The Handwriting_ 225 + XXV _Miss Phyllis Browne Intervenes_ 234 + XXVI _Lady Helen Montgomery's Son_ 246 + XXVII _Mr. White's Method_ 254 + XXVIII _Sir Charles Dyke's Journey_ 264 + XXIX _How Lady Dyke Disappeared_ 274 + XXX _Sir Charles Dyke Ends His Narrative_ 285 + XXXI _Valedictory_ 297 + + + + +CHAPTER I + +"LAST SEEN AT VICTORIA!" + + +Alice, Lady Dyke, puckered her handsome forehead into a thoughtful frown +as she drew aside the window-curtains of her boudoir and tried to look +out into the opaque blackness of a November fog in London. + +Behind her was cheerfulness--in front uncertainty. Electric lights, a +nice fire reflected from gleaming brass, the luxury of carpets and +upholstery, formed an alluring contrast to the dull yellow glare of a +solitary lamp in the outer obscurity. + +But Lady Dyke was a strong-minded woman. There was no trace of doubt in +the wrinkled brows and reflective eyes. She held back the curtains with +her left hand, buttoning a glove at the wrist with the other. Fog or no +fog, she would venture forth, and she was already dressed for the +weather in tailor-made costume and winter toque. + +She was annoyed, but not disconcerted by the fog. Too long had she +allowed herself to take things easily. The future was as murky as +the atmosphere; the past was dramatically typified by the pleasant +surroundings on which she resolutely turned her back. Lady Dyke was +quite determined as to her actions, and a dull November night was a +most unlikely agent to restrain her from following the course she had +mapped out. + +Moving to the light again, she took from her pocket a long, closely +written letter. Its details were familiar to her, but her face hardened +as she hastily ran through it in order to find a particular passage. + +At last she gained her object--to make quite sure of an address. Then +she replaced the document, stood undecided for a moment, and touched an +electric bell. + +"James," she said, to the answering footman, "I am going out." + +"Yes, milady." + +"Sir Charles is not at home?" + +"No, milady." + +"I am going to Richmond--to see Mrs. Talbot. I shall probably not return +in time for dinner. Tell Sir Charles not to wait for me." + +"Shall I order the carriage for your ladyship?" + +"Will you listen to me and remember what I have said?" + +"Yes, milady." + +James ran downstairs, opened the door, bowed as Lady Dyke passed into +Portman Square, and then confidentially informed Buttons that "the +missus" was in a "rare old wax" about something. + +"She nearly jumped down my bloomin' throat when I asked her if she would +have the carriage," he said. + +Her ladyship's mood did not soften when she drifted from the fixed +tenure of Wensley House, Portman Square, into the chaos of Oxford Street +and fog at 5.30 on a November evening. + +Though not a true "London particular," the fog was chilly, exasperating, +tedious. People bumped against each other without apology, 'buses +crunched through the traffic with deadly precision, pair-horse vans +swept around corners with magnificent carelessness. + +In the result, Lady Dyke, who meant to walk, as she was somewhat in +advance of the time she had fixed on for this very important engagement, +took a hansom. In her present mood slight things annoyed her. Usually, +the London cab-horse is a thoughtful animal; he refuses to hurry; when +he falls he lies contented, secure in the knowledge that for five +blissful minutes he will be at complete rest. But this misguided +quadruped flew as though oats and meadow-grass awaited him at Victoria +Station on the Underground Railway. + +He raced down Park Lane, skidded past Hyde Park Corner, and grated the +off-wheel of the hansom against the kerb outside the station within +eight minutes. + +In other words, her ladyship, if she would obey the directions contained +in the voluminous letter, was compelled to kill time. + +As she stepped from the vehicle and halted beneath a lamp to take a +florin from her purse, a tall, ulster-wrapped gentleman, walking rapidly +into Victoria Street, caught a glimpse of her face and well-proportioned +form. + +Instantly his hat was off. + +"This is an unexpected pleasure, Lady Dyke. Can I be of any service?" + +She bit her lip, not unobserved, but the law of Society forced her +features into a bright smile. + +"Oh, Mr. Bruce, is it you? I am going to see my sister at Richmond. +Isn't the weather horrid? I shall be so glad if you will put me into the +right train." + +Mr. Claude Bruce, barrister and man about town, whose clean-cut features +and dark, deep-set eyes made him as readily recognizable, knew that she +would have been much better pleased had he passed without greeting. Like +the footman, he wondered why she did not drive in her carriage rather +than travel by the Underground Railway on such a night. He guessed that +she was perturbed--that her voluble explanation was a disguise. + +He reflected that he could ill afford any delay in dressing for a +distant dinner--that good manners oft entail inconvenience--but of +course he said: + +"Delighted. Have you any wraps?" + +"No, I am just going for a chat, and shall be home early." + +He bought her a first-class ticket, noting as an odd coincidence that it +bore the number of the year, 1903, descended to the barrier, found that +the next train for Richmond passed through in ten minutes, fumed +inwardly for an instant, explained his presence to the ticket-collector, +and paced the platform with his companion. + +Having condemned the fog, and the last play, and the latest book, they +were momentarily silent. + +The newspaper placards on Smith & Son's bookstall announced that a +"Great Society Scandal" was on the tapis. "The Duke in the Box" formed a +telling line, and the eyes of both people chanced on it simultaneously. + +Thought the woman: "He is a man of the world, and an experienced lawyer. +Shall I tell him?" + +Thought the man: "She wants to take me into her confidence, and I am too +busy to be worried by some small family squabble." + +Said she: "Are you much occupied at the Courts just now, Mr. Bruce?" + +"No," he replied; "not exactly. My practice is more consultive than +active. Many people seek my advice about matters of little interest, +never thinking that they would best serve their ends by acting +decisively and promptly themselves." + +Lady Dyke set her lips. She could be both prompt and decisive. She +resolved to keep her troubles, whatever they were, locked in the secrecy +of her own heart, and when she next spoke of some trivial topic the +barrister knew that he had been spared a recital. + +He regretted it afterwards. + +At any other moment in his full and useful life he would have encouraged +her rather than the reverse. Even now, a few seconds too late, he was +sorry. He strove to bring her back to the verge of explanations, but +failed, for her ladyship was a proud, self-reliant personage--one who +would never dream of risking a rebuff. + +A train came, with "Richmond" staring at them from the smoke and steam +of the engine. + +"Good-bye!" he said. + +"Good-bye!" + +"Shall I see you again soon?" + +"I fear not. It is probable that I shall leave for the South of France +quite early." + +And she was gone. Her companion rushed to the street, and almost ran to +his Victoria Street chambers. It was six o'clock. He had to dress and +drive all the way to Hampstead for dinner at 7.30. + + * * * * * + +At ten minutes past nine Sir Charles Dyke entered Wensley House. A +handsome, quiet, gentlemanly man was Sir Charles. He was rich--a +Guardsman until the baronetcy devolved upon him, a popular figure in +Society, esteemed a trifle fast prior to his marriage, but sobered down +by the cares of a great estate and a vast fortune. + +His wife and he were not well-matched in disposition. + +She was too earnest, too prim, for the easy-going baronet. He respected +her, that was all. A man of his nature found it impossible to realize +that the depths of passion are frequently coated over with ice. Their +union was irreproachable, like their marriage settlements; but there are +more features in matrimony than can be disposed of by broad seals and +legal phrases. + +Unfortunately, they were childless, and were thus deprived of the one +great bond which unites when others may fail. + +Sir Charles was hurried, if not flurried. His boots were muddy and his +clothes splashed by the mire of passing vehicles. + +"I fear I am very late for dinner," he said to the footman who took his +hat and overcoat. "But I shall not be five minutes in dressing. Tell her +ladyship--" + +"Milady is not at home, Sir Charles." + +"Not at home!" + +"Milady went out at half-past five, saying that she was going to +Richmond to see Lady Edith Talbot, and that you were not to wait dinner +if she was late in returning." + +Sir Charles was surprised. He looked steadily at the man as he said: + +"Are you quite sure of her ladyship's orders?" + +"Quite sure, Sir Charles." + +"Did she drive?" + +"No, Sir Charles. She would not order the carriage when I suggested it." + +The baronet, somewhat perplexed, hesitated a moment. Then he appeared to +dismiss the matter as hardly worth discussion, saying, as he went up +stairs: + +"Dinner almost immediately, James." + +During the solitary meal he was preoccupied, but ate more than usual, in +the butler's judgment. Finding his own company distasteful, he discussed +the November Handicap with the butler, and ultimately sent for an +evening paper. + +Opening it, the first words that caught his eye were, "Murder in the +West End." He read the paragraph, the record of some tragic orgy, and +turned to the butler. + +"A lot of these beastly crimes have occurred recently, Thompson." + +"Yes, Sir Charles. There's bin three since the beginning of the month." + +After a pause. "Did you hear that her ladyship had gone to Richmond?" + +"Yes, Sir Charles." + +"Do you know how she went?" + +"No, Sir Charles." + +"I wanted to see her to-night, _very_ particularly. Order the brougham +in ten minutes. I am going to the Travellers' Club. I shall be home +soon--say eleven o'clock--when her ladyship arrives." + +The baronet was driven to and from the club by his own coachman, but on +returning to Wensley House was told that his wife was still absent. + +"No telegram or message?" + +"No, Sir Charles." + +"I suppose she will stay with her sister all night, and I shall have a +note in the morning to say so. Just like a woman. Now if I did that, +James, there would be no end of a row. Anxiety, and that sort of thing. +Call me at 8.30." + +An hour later Sir Charles Dyke left the library and went to bed. + +At breakfast next morning the master of the house rapidly scanned the +letters near his plate for the expected missive from his wife. There was +none. + +A maid was waiting. He sent her to call the butler. + +"Look here, Thompson," he cried, "her ladyship has not written. Don't +you think I had better wire? It's curious, to say the least, going off +to Richmond in this fashion, in a beastly fog, too." + +Thompson was puzzled. He had examined the letters an hour earlier. But +he agreed that a telegram was the thing. + +Sir Charles wrote: "Expected to hear from you. Will you be home to +lunch? Want to see you about some hunters"; and addressed it to his wife +at her sister's residence. + +"There," he said, turning to his coffee and sole. "That will fetch her. +We are off to Leicestershire next week, Thompson. By the way, I am going +to a sale at Tattersall's. Send a groom there with her ladyship's answer +when it comes." + +He had not been long at the sale yard when a servant arrived with a +telegram. + +"Ah, the post-office people are quick this morning," he said, smiling. +He opened the envelope and read: + + "Want to see you at once.--DICK." + +He was so surprised by the unexpected nature of the message that he read +the words aloud mechanically. But he soon understood, and smiled again. + +"Go back quickly," he said to the man, "and tell Thompson to send along +the next telegram." + +A consignment of Waterford hunters was being sold at the time, and the +baronet was checking the animals' descriptions on the catalogue, when +he was cheerily addressed: + +"Hallo, Dyke, preparing for the shires, eh?" + +Wheeling round, the baronet shook hands with Claude Bruce. + +"Yes--that is, I am looking out for a couple of nice-mannered ones for +my wife. I have six eating their heads off at Market Harborough now." + +Bruce hesitated. "Will Lady Dyke hunt this season?" he asked. + +"Well, hardly that. But she likes to dodge about the lanes with the +parson and the doctor." + +"I only inquired because she told me last night that she would probably +winter in the South of France." + +"Told you--last night--South of France!" Sir Charles Dyke positively +gasped in his amazement. + +"Why, yes. I met her at Victoria. She was going to Richmond to see her +sister, she said." + +"I am jolly glad to hear it." + +"Glad! Why?" + +"Because I have not seen her myself since yesterday morning. She went +off mysteriously, late in the afternoon, leaving a message with the +servants. Naturally I am glad to hear from you that she got into the +train all right." + +"I put her in the carriage myself. Have you not heard from her?" + +"No. I wired this morning, and expect an answer at any moment. But what +is this about the South of France? We go to Leicestershire next week." + +"I can't say, of course. Your wife seemed to be a little upset about +something. She only mentioned her intention casually--in fact, when I +asked if we would meet soon." + +The other laughed, a little oddly in the opinion of his astute observer, +and dismissed the matter by the remark that the expected message from +his wife would soon clear the slight mystery attending her movements +during the past eighteen hours. + +The two men set themselves to the congenial task of criticizing the +horses trotting up and down the straw-covered track, and Sir Charles had +purchased a nice half-bred animal for forty guineas when his groom again +saluted him. + +"Please, sir," said the man, "here's another telegram, and Thompson told +me to ask if it was the right one." + +Sir Charles frowned at the interruption--a second horse of a suitable +character was even then under the hammer--but he tore open the envelope. +At once his agitation became so marked that Bruce cried: + +"Good heavens, Dyke, what is it? No bad news, I hope?" + +The other, by a strong effort, regained his self-control. + +"No, no," he stammered; "it is all right, all right. She has gone +somewhere else. See. This is from her sister, Mrs. Talbot. Still, I wish +Alice would consider my natural anxiety a little." + +Bruce read: + + "I opened your message. Alice not here. I have not seen her for + over a week. What do you mean by wire? Am coming to town at + once.--EDITH." + +The baronet's pale face and strained voice betrayed the significance of +the thought underlying the simple question. + +"What do you make of it, Claude?" + +Bruce, too, was very grave. "The thing looks queer," he said; "though +the explanation may be trifling. Come, I will help you. Let us reach +your house. It is the natural centre for inquiries." + +They hailed a hansom and whirled off to Portman Square. They did not say +much. Each man felt that the affair might not end so happily and +satisfactorily as he hoped. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +INSPECTOR WHITE + + +Lady Dyke had disappeared. + +Whether dead or alive, and if alive, whether detained by force or absent +of her own unfettered volition, this handsome and well-known leader of +Society had vanished utterly from the moment when Claude Bruce placed +her in a first-class carriage of a Metropolitan Richmond train at +Victoria Station. + +At first her husband and relatives hoped against hope that some +extraordinary tissue of events had contributed to the building up of a +mystery which would prove to be no mystery. + +Yet the days fled, and there was no trace of her whereabouts. + +At the outset, the inquiry was confined to the circle of friends and +relatives. Telegrams and letters in every possible direction suggested +by this comparatively restricted field showed conclusively that not only +had Lady Dyke not been seen, but no one had the slightest clue to the +motives which might induce her to leave her home purposely. + +So far as her distracted husband could ascertain, she did not owe a +penny in the world. She was a rich woman in her own right, and her +banking account was in perfect order. + +She was a woman of the domestic temperament, always in close touch with +her family, and those who knew her best scouted the notion of any petty +intrigue which would move her, by fear or passion, to abandon all she +held dear. + +The stricken baronet confided the search only to his friend Bruce. He +brokenly admitted that he had not sufficiently appreciated his wife +while she was with him. + +"She was of a superior order to me, Claude," he said. "I am hardly a +home bird. Her ideals were lofty and humanitarian. Too often I was out +of sympathy with her, and laughed at her notions. But, believe me, we +never had the shadow of a serious dispute. Perhaps I went my own way a +little selfishly, but at the time, I thought that she, on her part, was +somewhat straight-laced. I appreciate her merits when it is too late." + +"But you must not assume even yet that she is dead." The barrister was +certain that some day the mystery would be elucidated. + +"She is. I feel that. I shall never see her on earth again." + +"Oh, nonsense, Dyke. Far more remarkable occurrences have been +satisfactorily cleared up." + +"It is very good of you, old chap, to take this cheering view. Only, you +see, I know my wife's character so well. She would die a hundred times +if it were possible rather than cause the misery to her people and +myself which, if living, she knows must ensue from this terrible +uncertainty as to her fate." + +"Scotland Yard is still sanguine." This good-natured friend was +evidently making a conversation. + +"Oh, naturally. But something tells me that my wife is dead, whether by +accident or design it is impossible to say. The police will cling to +the belief that she is in hiding in order to conceal their own inability +to find her." + +"A highly probable theory. Are your servants to be trusted?" + +"Y--es. They have all been with us some years. Why do you ask?" + +"Because I am anxious that nothing of this should get into the papers. I +have caused paragraphs to be inserted in the fashionable intelligence +columns that Lady Dyke has gone to visit some friends in the Midlands. +For her own sake, if she be living, it is best to choke scandal at its +source." + +"Well, Bruce, I leave everything to you. Make such arrangements as you +think fit." + +The barrister's mobile face softened with pity as he looked at his +afflicted friend. + +In four days Sir Charles Dyke had aged many years in appearance. No one +who was acquainted with him in the past would have imagined that the +loss of his wife could so affect him. + +"I have done all that was possible, yet it is very little," said Bruce, +after a pause. "You are aware that I am supposed to be an adept at +solving curious or criminal investigations of an unusual class. But in +this case, partly, I suspect, because I myself am the last person who, +to our common knowledge, saw Lady Dyke alive on Tuesday night, I am +faced by a dead wall of impenetrable fact, through which my intellect +cannot pierce. Yet I am sure that some day this wretched business will +be intelligible. I will find her if living; I will find her murderer if +she be dead." + +Not often did Claude Bruce allow his words to so betray his thoughts. + +Both men were absorbed by the thrilling sensations of the moment, and +they were positively startled when a servant suddenly announced: + +"Inspector White, of Scotland Yard." + +A short, thick-set man entered. He was absolutely round in every part. +His sturdy, rotund frame was supported on stout, well-moulded legs. His +bullet head, with close-cropped hair, gave a suggestion of strength to +his rounded face, and a pair of small bright eyes looked suspiciously on +the world from beneath well-arched eyebrows. + +Two personalities more dissimilar than those of Claude Bruce and +Inspector White could hardly be brought together in the same room. +People who are fond of tracing resemblances to animals in human beings +would liken the one to a grey-hound, the other to a bull-dog. + +Yet they were both masters in the art of detecting crime--the barrister +subtle, analytic, introspective; the policeman direct, pertinacious, +self-confident. Bruce lost all interest in a case when the hidden trail +was laid bare. Mr. White regarded investigation as so many hours on duty +until his man was transported or hanged. + +The detective was well acquainted with his unprofessional colleague, and +had already met Sir Charles in the early stages of his present quest. + +"I have an important clue," he said, smiling with assurance. + +"What is it?" The baronet was for the moment aroused from his despondent +lethargy. + +"Her ladyship did not go to Richmond on Tuesday night." + +Inspector White did not wait for Bruce to speak, but the barrister +nodded with the air of one who knew already that Lady Dyke had not gone +to Richmond. + +Mr. White continued. "Thanks to Mr. Bruce's remembrance of the number of +the ticket, we traced it at once in the clearing office. It was given up +at Sloan Square immediately after the Richmond train passed through." + +Bruce nodded again. He was obstinately silent, so the detective +questioned him directly. + +"By this means the inquiry is narrowed to a locality. Eh, Mr. Bruce?" + +"Yes," said the barrister, turning to poke the fire. + +Mr. White was sure that his acuteness was displeasing to his clever +rival. He smiled complacently, and went on: + +"The ticket-collector remembers her quite well, as the giving up of a +Richmond ticket was unusual at this station. She passed straight out +into the square, and from that point we lost sight of her." + +"You do, Mr. White?" said Bruce. + +"Well, sir, it is a great thing to have localized her movements at that +hour, isn't it?" + +"Yes, it is. To save time I may tell you that Lady Dyke returned to the +station, entered the refreshment room, ordered a glass of wine, which +she hardly touched, sat down, and waited some fifteen minutes. Then she +quitted the room, crossed the square, asked a news-vendor where Raleigh +Mansions were, and gave him sixpence for the information." + +His hearers were astounded. + +"Heavens, Claude, how did you learn all this?" cried the baronet. + +"Thus far, it was simplicity itself. On Wednesday evening when no news +could be obtained from your relatives, I started from Victoria, +intending to call at every station until I found the place where she +left the train. The railway clearing officer was too slow, Mr. White. +Naturally, the hours being identical in the same week, the first +ticket-collector I spoke to gave me the desired clue. The rest was a +mere matter of steady inquiry." + +"Then you are the man whom the police are now searching for?" blurted +out the detective. + +"From the railway official's description? Possibly. Pray, Mr. White, let +me see the details of my appearance as circulated through the force. It +would be interesting." + +The inspector was saved from further indiscretions by Sir Charles Dyke's +plaintive question: + +"Why did you not tell me these things sooner, Claude?" + +"What good was there in torturing you? All that I have ascertained is +the A B C of our search. We are at a loss for the motive of your wife's +disappearance. Victoria, Sloane Square, or Richmond--does it matter +which? My belief is that she intended to go to Richmond that night. Why, +otherwise, should she make to the footman and myself the same unvarying +statement? Perhaps she did go there?" + +"But these houses, Raleigh Mansions. What of them?" + +"Ah, there we may be forwarded a stage. But there are six main entrances +and no hall porters. There are twelve flats at each number, seventy-two +in all, and all occupied. That means seventy-two separate inquiries into +the history and attributes of a vastly larger number of persons, in +order to find some possible connection with Lady Dyke and her purposely +concealed visit. She may have remained in one of those flats five +minutes. She may be in one of them yet. Anyhow, I have taken the +necessary steps to obtain the fullest knowledge of the inhabitants of +Raleigh Mansions." + +"Scotland Yard appears to be an unnecessary institution, Mr. Bruce," +snapped the detective. + +"By no means. It is most useful to me once I have discovered a criminal. +And it amuses me." + +"Listen, Claude, and you, Mr. White," pleaded the baronet. "I implore +you to keep me informed in future of developments in your search. The +knowledge that progress is being made will sustain me. Promise, I ask +you." + +"I promise readily enough," answered Bruce. "I only stipulate that you +prepare yourself for many disappointments. Even a highly skilled +detective like Inspector White will admit that the failures are more +frequent than the successes." + +"True enough, sir. But I must be going, gentlemen." Mr. White was +determined to work the new vein of Raleigh Mansions thoroughly before +even his superiors were aware of its significance in the hunt for her +lost ladyship. + +When the detective went out there was silence for some time. Dyke was +the first to speak. + +"Have you formed any sort of theory, even a wildly speculative one?" he +asked. + +"No; none whatever. The utter absence of motive is the most puzzling +element of the whole situation." + +"Whom can my wife have known at Raleigh Mansions? What sort of places +are they?" + +"Quite fashionable, but not too expensive. The absence of elevators and +doorkeepers cheapens them. I am sorry now that I mentioned them to +White." + +"Why?" + +"He will disturb every one of the residents by injudicious inquiries. +Each housemaid who opens a door will be to him a suspicious individual, +each butcher's boy an accomplice, each tenant a principal in the +abduction of your wife. If I have a theory of any sort, it is that the +first reliable news will come from Richmond. There cannot be the +slightest doubt that she was going there on Tuesday night." + +"It will be very odd if you should prove to be right," said Sir Charles. + +Again they were interrupted by the footman, this time the bearer of a +telegram, which he handed to his master. + +The latter opened it and read: + + "What is the matter? Are you ill? I certainly am angry.--DICK." + +He frowned with real annoyance, crumpling up the message and throwing it +in the fire. + +"People bothering one at such a time," he growled. + +Soon afterwards Bruce left him. + +True to the barrister's prophecy, Inspector White made life miserable to +the denizens of Raleigh Mansions. He visited them at all hours, and, in +some instances, several times. Although, in accordance with his +instructions, he never mentioned Lady Dyke's name, he so pestered the +occupants with questions concerning a lady of her general appearance +that half-a-dozen residents wrote complaining letters to the company +which owned the mansions, and the secretary lodged a protest at Scotland +Yard. + +Respectable citizens object to detectives prowling about, particularly +when they insinuate questions concerning indefinite ladies in +tailor-made dresses and fur toques. + +At the end of a week Mr. White was nonplussed, and even Claude Bruce +confessed that his more carefully conducted inquiries had yielded no +result. + +Towards the end of the month a sensational turn was given to events. The +body of a woman, terribly disfigured from long immersion in the water +and other causes, was found in the Thames at Putney. + +It had been discovered under peculiar circumstances. A drain pipe +emptying into the river beneath the surface was moved by reason of some +sanitary alterations, and the workmen intrusted with the task were +horrified at finding a corpse tightly wedged beneath it. + +Official examination revealed that although the body had been in the +water fully three weeks, the cause of death was not drowning. The woman +had been murdered beyond a shadow of a doubt. A sharp iron spike was +driven into her brain with such force that a portion of it had broken +off, and remained imbedded in the skull. + +If this were not sufficient, there were other convincing proofs of foul +play. + +Although her skirt and coat were of poor quality, her linen was of a +class that could only be worn by some one who paid as much for a single +under-garment as most women do for a good costume; but there were no +laundry marks, such as usual, upon it. + +On the feet were a pair of strong walking boots, bearing the stamped +address of a fashionable boot-maker in the West End. Among a list of +customers to whom the tradesman supplied footgear of this size and +character appeared the name of Lady Dyke. + +Not very convincing testimony, but sufficient to bring Sir Charles to +the Putney mortuary in the endeavor to identify the remains as those of +his missing wife. + +In this he utterly failed. + +Not only was this poor misshapen lump of distorted humanity wholly +unlike Lady Alice, but the color of her hair was different. + +Her ladyship's maid called to identify the linen--even the police +admitted the outer clothes were not Lady Dyke's--was so upset at the +repulsive nature of her task that she went into hysterics, protesting +loudly that it could not be her mistress she was looking at. + +Bruce differed from both of them. He quietly urged Sir Charles to +consider the fact that a great many ladies give a helping hand to Nature +in the matter of hair tints. The chemical action of water would-- + +The baronet nearly lost his temper. + +"Really, Bruce, you carry your theories too far," he cried. "My wife had +none of these vanities. I am sure this is not she. The mere thought that +such a thing could be possible makes me ill. Let us get away, quick." + +So a coroner's jury found an open verdict, and the poor unknown was +buried in a pauper's grave. + +The newspapers dismissed the incident with a couple of paragraphs, +though the iron spike planted in the skull afforded good material for a +telling headline, and within a couple of days the affair was forgotten. + +But Claude Bruce, barrister and amateur detective, was quite sure in his +own mind that the nameless woman was Alice, Lady Dyke. + +He was so certain--though identification of the body was +impossible--that he bitterly resented the scant attention given the +matter by the authorities, and he swore solemnly that he would not rest +until he had discovered her destroyer and brought the wretch to the bar +of justice. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE LADY'S MAID + + +The first difficulty experienced by the barrister in his self-imposed +task was the element of mystery purposely contributed by Lady Dyke +herself. To a man of his quick perception, sharpened and clarified by +his legal training, it was easy to arrive at the positive facts +underlying the trivial incidents of his meeting with the missing lady at +Victoria Station. + +Briefly stated, his summary was this: Lady Dyke intended to go to +Richmond at a later hour than that at which his unexpected presence had +caused her to set out. She had resolved upon a secret visit to some one +who lived in Raleigh Mansions, Sloane Square--some person whom she knew +so slightly as to be unacquainted with the exact address, and, as the +result of this visit, she desired subsequently to see her sister at +Richmond. + +Sir Charles Dyke was apparently in no way concerned with her movements, +nor had she thought fit to consult him, beyond the mere politeness of +announcing her probable absence from home at the dinner hour. + +To one of Bruce's analytical powers the problem would be more simple +were it, in a popular sense, more complex. In these days, it is a +strange thing for a woman of assured position in society to be suddenly +spirited out of the world without leaving trace or sign. He approached +his inquiry with less certainty, owing to Lady Dyke's own negative +admissions, than if she had been swallowed up by an earthquake, and he +were asked to determine her fate by inference and deduction. + +It must be remembered that he was sure she was dead--murdered, and that +her body had been lodged by human agents beneath an old drain-pipe at +Putney. + +What possible motive could any one have in so foully killing a +beautiful, high-minded, and charming woman, whose whole life was known +to her associates, whom the breath of scandal had never touched? + +The key of the mystery might be found at Raleigh Mansions, but Bruce +decided that this branch of his quest could wait until other transient +features were cleared up. + +He practically opened the campaign of investigation at Putney. Mild +weather had permitted the workmen to conclude their operations the +day before the barrister reached the spot where the body had been +found--that is to say, some forty-eight hours after he had resolved +neither to pause nor deviate in his search until the truth was laid +bare. + +A large house, untenanted, occupied the bank, a house with solid front +facing the road, and a lawn running from the drawing-room windows to the +river. Down the right side of the grounds the boundary was sharply +marked by a narrow lane, probably a disused ferry road, and access to +this thoroughfare was obtained from the lawn by a garden gate. + +A newly marked seam in the roadway showed the line of the drainage work, +and Bruce did not glance at the point where the pipe entered the Thames, +as the structural features here were recent. + +He went to the office of the contractor who had carried out the +alterations. An elderly foreman readily answered his questions. + +"Yes, sir. I was in charge of the men who were on the job. It was an +easy business. Just an outlet for rain from the road. An old-fashioned +affair; been there thirty or forty years, I should think; all the pipes +were crumbling away." + +"Why were the repairs effected at this moment?" + +"Well, sir, the house was empty quite a while. You see it used to be a +school, a place where young gents were prepared for the army. It was +closed about a year ago, and it isn't everybody as wants so many +bedrooms. I do hear as how the new tenant has sixteen children." + +"The incoming people have not yet arrived?" + +"No, sir." + +"Can you tell me the name of the schoolmaster?" + +"Oh, yes. When I was younger I have done a lot of carpenter's work for +him. He was the Reverend Septimus Childe." + +Bruce made a note of the name, and next sought the local +police-inspector. + +"No, nothing fresh," said the latter, in reply to a query concerning the +woman "found drowned." + +"I suppose these things are soon lost sight of?" said Bruce casually. + +"Sometimes they are, and sometimes they aren't. It's wonderful +occasionally how a matter gets cleared up after years. Of course we keep +all the records of a case, so that the affair can be looked into if +anything turns up." + +"Ah, that brings me to the most important object of my visit. A small +piece of iron was found imbedded in the woman's skull." + +The inspector smiled as he admitted the fact. + +"May I see it? I want either the loan of it for a brief period, or an +exact model." + +Again the policeman grinned. + +"I don't mind telling you that you are too late, sir." + +"Too late! How too late?" + +"It's been gone to Scotland Yard for the best part of a week." + +So others besides the barrister thought that the Putney incident +required more attention than had been bestowed upon it. + + * * * * * + +Bruce concluded his round by a visit to the surgeon who gave evidence at +the inquest. + +The doctor had no manner of doubt that the woman had been murdered +before being placed in the water, the state of the lungs being proof +positive on that point. + +"It was equally indisputable that she was put to death by malice +aforethought?" + +"Oh, yes. A small iron spike was absolutely wedged into the brain +through the hardest part of the skull." + +"What was the nature of the injuries that caused death?" + +"This piece of iron penetrated the occipital bone at the lowest part, +and injured the cerebellum, damaging all the great nerve centres at the +base of the brain." + +"Would death ensue instantly?" + +"Yes. Such a blow would have the effect of a high voltage electric +current. Complete paralysis of the nerve centres means death." + +"Then I take it that great force must have been used?" + +"Not so much, perhaps, as the nature of the wound seems to imply; but +considerable--sufficient, at any rate, to break the piece of iron." + +"It was broken, you say? Was it cast-iron?" + +"Yes, of good quality. Off some ornament or design, I should imagine. +But it snapped off inside the head at the moment of the occurrence." + +"Curious, is it not, for a person to be killed in such a manner by such +an instrument?" + +"I have never before met such a case. Were it not for the way in which +the body was jammed beneath a hidden drain-pipe, and the effective means +taken to destroy the identity, I should have inclined to the belief that +some strange accident had happened. At any rate, the murderer must have +committed the crime on the spur of the moment, and seized upon the first +weapon to hand." + +"You say she was forcibly placed where found?" + +"Yes; the workmen's description left no other idea." + +"Could not the tide have done this?" + +"Hardly. One cannot be quite emphatic, as such odd things do happen. But +it seems to be almost impossible for the tide at Putney to pack a body +beneath a jutting drain-pipe in such a manner that the waist, or +narrowest part, should be beneath the pipe and the body remain securely +held." + +"Yet it is not so marvellous as the coincidence that this particular +drain should need repairs at the precise period when this tragedy +happened." + +"Quite so. It is exceedingly strange. Are you interested in the case? +Have you reason to believe that this poor woman--?" + +"I hardly know," broke in the barrister. "I have no data to go upon, but +I feel convinced that I shall ultimately establish her identity. You, +doctor, can help me much by telling me your surmises in addition to the +known facts." + +The medico looked thoughtfully through the window before he exclaimed: +"I am certain that the woman found in the Thames came from the upper +walks of life. Notwithstanding the disfiguring effects of the water and +rough usage, any medical man can rapidly appreciate the caste of his +subject. She was, I should say, a woman of wealth and refinement, one +who led an orderly, well-regulated life, whose surroundings were normal +and healthy." + +Bruce thanked his informant and hurried back to London. A telegram +to Inspector White preceded him. He had not long reached his +Victoria-street chambers when the detective was announced. He soon made +known his wishes. "I want you to give me that small piece of iron found +in the head of the woman at Putney," he said. "If necessary, I will +return it in twenty-four hours." + +Mr. White's face showed some little sign of annoyance. "It is against +the rules," he began; but Bruce curtly interrupted him. + +"Very well, I will make direct application to the Commissioner." + +"I was going to say, Mr. Bruce, that although not strictly in accordance +with orders, I will make an exception in your case." And the detective +slowly produced the _piece de conviction_ from a large pocket-book. + +In sober fact, the police officer was somewhat jealous of the clever +lawyer, who saw so quickly through complexities that puzzled his slower +brain. He was in nowise anxious to help the barrister in his inquiries, +though keenly wishful to benefit by his discoveries, and follow out his +theories when they were defined with sufficient clearness. + +Bruce did not at first take the proffered article. + +"Let me understand, Mr. White," he said. "Do you object to my presence +in this inquiry? Are you going to hinder me or help me? It will save +much future misunderstanding if we have this point settled now." + +The detective flushed at this direct inquiry. "I will be candid with +you, Mr. Bruce. It is true I have been vexed at times when you have +overreached me; but I regret it immediately. It is foolish of me to try +and solve problems by your methods. Kindly forget my momentary +disinclination to hand over the only genuine link in the case." + +"In what case?" + +"In the case of Lady Dyke's disappearance." + +"Ah! Then you think it is in some way connected with the woman found at +Putney?" + +"I am sure of it. The woman at Putney, whether Lady Dyke herself or not +I cannot tell, wore some of her ladyship's clothes. When we have +ascertained the means and the manner of the death of the woman buried at +Putney we shall not be far from learning what has become of Lady Dyke." + +"How have you identified the clothes?" + +"I managed to gain the confidence of the lady's maid, who gave evidence +at the inquest. She, of course, is quite positive that the body was not +that of her mistress, but when I had examined some of Lady Dyke's linen +I no longer doubted the fact." + +"If you knew all this, how comes it that more did not transpire at the +coroner's inquiry?" + +"In such affairs an inquest is rather a hindrance to the police. It is +better to lull the guilty person or persons into the belief that the +crime has passed into oblivion. They know as well as we do that Lady +Dyke is buried at Putney. We have failed to establish her identity by +the evidence of the husband and servants. The linen and clothes, our +sole effective testimony, remain in our possession; so, taking +everything into consideration, I prefer that matters should remain as +they are for the present." + +"Really, Mr. White, I congratulate you. You will perhaps pardon me for +saying that some of your colleagues do not usually take so sensible a +view." + +The policeman smiled at the compliment. "I am learning your method, Mr. +Bruce," he said. + +As he spoke, Smith entered with a note endorsed "Urgent." + +It was in the handwriting of Sir Charles Dyke, and even the +imperturbable barrister could not resist an exclamation of amazement +when he read: + + "MY DEAR BRUCE,--My wife's maid has vanished. She has not been + near the house for three days. The thing came to my ears owing + to gossip amongst the servants. There is something maddening + about these occurrences. I really cannot stand any more. Do + come to see me, there's a good fellow." + +"Well, I'm jiggered!" said the detective. "The blessed girl must have +been spirited away a few hours after I saw her. Maybe, Mr. Bruce, we are +all wrong. Has she gone to join her mistress?" + +"Possibly--in the next world." + +Nothing would shake the barrister's belief that Alice, Lady Dyke, was +dead. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +NO. 61 RALEIGH MANSIONS + + +Really, the maid deserved to have her ears pulled. + +People in her walk in life should not ape their betters. Lady Dyke, +owing to her position, was entitled to some degree of oddity or mystery +in her behavior. But for a lady's maid to so upset the entire household +at Wensley House, Portman Square, was intolerable. + +Sir Charles became, if possible, more miserable; the butler fumed; the +housekeeper said that the girl was always a forward minx, and the +footman winked at Buttons, as much as to say that he knew a good deal if +he liked to talk. + +The police were as greatly baffled by this latter incident as by its +predecessor. The movements of the maid were quite unknown. No one could +tell definitely when she left the house. Her fellow-servants described +the dress she probably wore, as all her other belongings were in her +bedroom; but beyond the fact that her name was Jane Harding, and that +she had not returned to her home in Lincolnshire, the police could find +no further clue. + +So, in brief, Jane Harding quickly joined Lady Dyke in the limbo of +forgetfulness. + +Bruce, however, forgot nothing. Indeed, he rejoiced at this new +development. + +"The greater the apparent mystery," he communed, "the less it is in +reality. We now have two tracks to follow. They are both hidden, it is +true, but when we find one, it will probably intersect the other." + +The new year was a few days old when Bruce made his first step through +the bewildering maze which seemed to bar progress on every side. He +received a report from the man, a pensioned police-officer, who had +conducted a painstaking search into the history and occupation of every +inhabitant of Raleigh Mansions. + +Two items the barrister fastened on to at once. + + "At No. 12, top floor right, entrance by first door on Sloane + Square side, is a small flat occupied by a man named Sydney H. + Corbett. He passes as an American, but is probably an Englishman + who has resided in the United States. He does not mix with other + Americans in London, and is of irregular habits. He frequents + race meetings and sporting clubs, is reported to belong to a + Piccadilly club where high play is the rule, and has no definite + occupation. He occasionally visits a lady who lives at No. 61, + same mansions, ground floor, and sixth door. They have been + heard to quarrel seriously, and the dispute appears always to + have concerned money. Corbett went to Monte Carlo early in + December. His address there is 'Hotel du Cercle,' and the local + post-office has a supply of stamped and addressed envelopes in + which to forward his correspondence. + + "At No. 61, as already described, resides Mrs. Gwendoline + Hillmer. She lives in good style, rents a brougham and a + victoria, and is either a wealthy widow or maintained by some + one of means. She dresses well, and goes out a good deal to + theatres, but otherwise leads a rather lonely life. Her most + frequent visitor is, or was, a gentleman who looked like an + officer in the Guards, and, much less often, the aforesaid + Sydney H. Corbett. Her servants, except the maid, live out. The + maid, who is a sort of companion, is talkative, but does not + know much, or, if she does, will not speak." + +Bruce weighed these statements very carefully. They did not contain any +positive facts that promised well for the elucidation of Lady Dyke's +visit to the mansions on that fateful November evening, but the absolute +colorlessness of the reports concerning the other occupants rendered +them quite impossible of individual distinction. + +After an hour of puzzled thought the barrister finally decided upon a +course of action. He would see Mrs. Gwendoline Hillmer, and trust to +luck in the way of discoveries. + +A quiet smile lit up his handsome, regular features as he proceeded to +array himself in the most fashionable clothes he possessed, paying the +utmost attention to every detail in a manner that amazed his valet. + +When at last that worthy was despatched to the nearest florist's for a +_boutonniere_, he communicated his bewilderment to the hall-porter. + +"My guv'nor's going out on the mash," he said confidentially. "I thought +he would never look at a woman; but, bless you, Jim, we're all alike. +When the day comes we all rush after a petticoat." + +It was nearly six o'clock when Bruce walked down Victoria Street. For +some reason, he did not call a hansom, and it was almost with a start +that he found himself purchasing a ticket to Sloane Square at the +Underground Railway office. At this precise hour and place he had last +seen Lady Alice on earth. The memory nerved him to his purpose. + +A few minutes later he pressed the electric bell of No. 61 Raleigh +Mansions. As he listened to the slight jar of the indicator within, he +smiled at the apparent fatuity of his mission. + +He had one card, perhaps a weak one, to play, it was true, but he hoped +that circumstances might prevent this from being tabled too early in the +game. + +The door opened, and a youthful housemaid stood before him, the simple +wonder in her eyes showing that such visitors were rare. + +"Is Mrs. Hillmer at home?" he said. + +"I'll see sir, if you give me your name." + +"Surely you know whether or not she is at home?" + +The girl stammered and blushed at this unexpected query. "Well, sir," +she said, "my mistress is in, but I do not know if she can receive any +one. She is dressed to go out." + +"Ah! that's better. Now, take her my card, and say that while I will not +detain her, my business is very important." This with a sweet smile that +put the flurried maid entirely at her ease. + +The girl withdrew, after hesitating for a moment to decide the important +question as to whether or not she should close the door in his face. + +Another smile, and she did not. + +He was thus free to note the luxurious and tasteful air of the general +appointments, for the entrance hall usually reveals much of the +characteristics of the inmates. Here was every evidence of refinement +and wealth. All the display had not been lavished on the drawing-room. + +As he waited, conscious of the fact that his colloquy with the servant +had been overheard, a lady crossed from one room to the other at the end +of the passage. Her smart but simple dress, and the quick scrutiny she +gave him, as though discovering his presence accidentally, caused him +to believe--rightly, as it transpired--that this was the maid-companion +described by his assistant. + +Not only had she obviously made her appearance in order to look at him, +but the housemaid had carried his message to a different section of the +flat. + +The girl returned. "My mistress will see you in a few minutes," she +said. "Will you kindly step into the dining-room?" + +He followed her, sat down in a position where the strong glare of the +electric lamps would fall on any one who stood opposite, and waited +developments. + +The furniture was solid and appropriate, the carpet rich, and the +pictures, engravings for the most part, excellent. This pleasant room, +warmed by a cheerful fire, impressed Bruce as a place much used by the +household. Books and work-baskets were scattered about, and a piano, +littered with music, filled a corner. There were a few photographs of +persons and places, but he had not time to examine these before the lady +of the house entered. + +Her appearance, for some reason inexplicable to the barrister himself, +took him by surprise. She was tall, graceful, extremely good-looking, +and dressed in a style of quiet elegance. Just the sort of woman one +would expect to find in such a well-appointed abode, yet more refined in +manner than Bruce, from his knowledge of the world, thought he would +meet, judging by the hasty inferences drawn from his subordinate's +report. She was self-possessed, too. With calm tone, and slightly +elevated eyebrows, she said: + +"You wish to see me, I understand?" + +"Yes. Allow me first to apologize for the hour at which I have called." + +"No apology is necessary. But I am going out. Perhaps you will be good +enough not to detain me longer than is absolutely necessary." + +She stood between the table and the door. Bruce, who had risen at her +entrance, was at the other side of the room. Her words, no less than her +attitude, showed that she desired the interview to be brief. But the +barrister resolved that he would not be repelled so coolly. + +Advancing, with a bow and that fascinating smile of his, he said, +pulling forward a chair: + +"Won't you be seated?" + +The lady looked at him. She saw a man of fine physique and undoubted +good breeding. She hesitated. There was no reason to be rude to him, so +she sat down. + +Claude drew a chair to the other side of the hearthrug, and commenced: + +"I have ventured to seek this interview for the purpose of making some +inquiries." + +"I thought so. Are you a policeman?" The words were blurted out +impetuously, a trifle complainingly, but Bruce gave no sign of the +interest they had for him. + +"Good gracious, no," he cried. "Why should you think that?" + +"Because two detectives have been bothering me, and every other person +in these mansions, about some mysterious lady who called here two months +ago. They don't know where she called, nor will they state her name; as +if any one could possibly know anything about it. So I naturally thought +you were on the same errand." + +"Confound that rascal White," growled he to himself. + +But Mrs. Hillmer went on: "If that is not your business, would you mind +telling me what it is?" + +Now Bruce's alert brain had been actively engaged during the last few +seconds. This woman was not the clever, specious adventuress he had half +expected to meet. It seemed more than ever unlikely that she could have +any knowledge of Lady Dyke or the causes that led to her disappearance. +He was tempted to frame some excuse and take his departure. But the +certainty that his missing friend had visited Raleigh Mansions, and the +necessity there was for exploiting every line of inquiry, impelled him +to adopt this last resource. + +"It is not concerning a missing lady, but concerning a missing gentleman +that I have come to see you." + +The shot went home. + +Why, for the life of him, he could not tell, but his companion was +manifestly disturbed at his words. + +"Oh," she said. + +Then, after a little pause: "May I ask his name?" + +"Certainly. He is known as Mr. Sydney H. Corbett." + +She gave a slight gasp. + +"Why do you put it in that way? Is not that his right name?" + +"I have reason to believe it is not." + +Mrs. Hillmer was so obviously distressed that Bruce inwardly reviled +himself for causing her so much unnecessary suffering. In all +probability, the source of her emotion had not the remotest bearing +upon his quest. + +Then came the pertinent query, after a glance at his card, which she +still held in her hand: + +"Who are you, Mr.--Mr. Claude Bruce?" + +"I am a member of the Bar, of the Inner Temple. My chambers are No. 7 +Paper Buildings, and my private residence is given there." + +"And why are you interested in Mr. Sydney Corbett?" + +"Ah, in that respect I am at this moment unable to enlighten you." + +"Unable, or unwilling?" + +He indulged in a quiet piece of fencing: + +"Really, Mrs. Hillmer," he said, "I am not here as in any sense hostile +to you. I merely want some detailed information with regard to this +gentleman, information which you may be able to give me. That is all." + +All this time he knew that the woman was scrutinizing him +narrowly--trying to weigh him up as it were, not because she feared him, +but rather to discover the true motive of his presence. + +Personally, he had never faced a more difficult task than this +make-believe investigation. He could have laughed at the apparent want +of connection between Lady Dyke's ill-fated visit to Raleigh Mansions +and this worrying of a beautiful, pleasant-mannered woman, who was +surely neither a principal nor an accomplice in a ghastly crime. + +"Well, I suppose I may consider myself in the hands of counsel. Tell me +what it is you want to know!" Mrs. Hillmer pouted, with the air of a +child about to undergo a scolding. + +"Are you acquainted with Mr. Corbett's present address?" he said. + +"No. I have neither seen him nor heard from him since early in +November." + +"Can you be more precise about the period?" + +"Yes, perhaps." She arose, took from a drawer in the sideboard a packet +of bills--receipted, he observed--searched through them and found the +document she sought. "I purchased a few articles about that time," she +explained, "and the account for them is dated November 15. I had not +seen my--" She blushed, became confused, laughed a little, and went on. +"I had not seen Mr. Corbett for at least a week before that date--say +November 8th or 9th." + +Lady Dyke disappeared on the evening of the 6th! + +Bruce swallowed his astonishment at the odd coincidence of dates, for he +said, with an encouraging laugh, "Out with it, Mrs. Hillmer. You were +about to describe Mr. Corbett correctly when you recollected yourself." + +Mrs. Hillmer, still coloring and becoming saucily cheerful, cried, "Why +should I trouble myself when you, of course, know all that I can tell +you, and probably more? He is my brother, and a pretty tiresome sort of +relation, too." + +"I am obliged for your confidence. In return, I am free to state that +your brother is now in the South of France." + +"As you are here, Mr. Bruce," she said, "I may as well get some advice +gratis. Can people writ him in the South of France? Can they ask me to +pay his debts?" + +"Under ordinary circumstances they can do neither. Certainly not the +latter." + +"I hope not. But they sometimes come very near to it, as I know to my +cost." + +"Indeed! How?" + +Mrs. Hillmer hesitated. Her smile was a trifle scornful, and her color +rose again as she answered: "People are not averse to taking advantage +of circumstances. I have had some experience of this trait in +debt-collectors already. But they must be careful. You, as a legal man, +must know that demands urged on account of personal reasons may come +very near to levying blackmail." + +"Surely, Mrs. Hillmer, you do not suspect me of being a dun. Perish the +thought! You could never be in debt to me." + +"Very nice of you. Don't you represent those people on Leadenhall +Street, then?" + +"What people?" + +"Messrs. Dodge & Co." + +"No; why do you ask?" + +"Because my brother entered into what he called a 'deal' with them. He +underwrote some shares in a South African mine, as a nominal affair, he +told me, and now they want him to pay for them because the company is +not supported by the public." + +"No, I do not represent Dodge & Co." + +"Is there something else then? Whom do you represent?" + +"To be as precise as permissible, I may say that my inquiries in no +sense affect financial matters." + +"What then?" + +"Well, there is a woman in the case." + +Mrs. Hillmer was evidently both relieved and interested. + +"No, you don't say," she said. "Tell me all about it. I never knew +Bertie to be much taken up with the fair sex. I am all curiosity. Who is +she?" + +He did not take advantage of the mention of a name which in no way stood +for Sydney. Besides, perhaps the initial stood for Herbert. He resolved +to try another tack. + +Glancing at his watch he said: "It is nearly seven o'clock. I have +already detained you an unconscionable time. You were going out. Permit +me to call again, and we can discuss matters at leisure." + +He rose, and the lady sighed: "You were just beginning to be +entertaining. I was only going to dine at a restaurant. I am quite tired +of being alone." + +Was it a hint? He would see. "Are you dining by yourself, then, Mrs. +Hillmer?" + +"I hardly know. I may bring my maid." + +Claude now made up his mind. "May I venture," he said, "after such an +informal introduction, to ask you to dine with me at the Prince's +Restaurant, and afterwards, perhaps, to look in at the Jollity Theatre?" + +The lady was unfeignedly pleased. She arranged to call for him in her +brougham within twenty minutes, and Bruce hurried off to Victoria Street +in a hansom to dress for this unexpected branch of the detective +business. + +When he told his valet to telephone to the restaurant and the theatre +respectively for a reserved table and a couple of stalls, that worthy +chuckled. + +When his master entered a brougham in which was seated a fur-wrapped +lady, the valet grinned broadly. "I knew it," he said. "The guv'nor's on +the mash. Now, who would ever have thought it of him?" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AT THE JOLLITY THEATRE + + +By tacit consent, Claude and his fair companion dropped for the hour the +rôles of inquisitor and witness. + +They were both excellent talkers, they were mutually interested, and +there was in their present escapade a spice of that romance not so +lacking in the humdrum life of London as is generally supposed to be the +case. + +Bruce did not ask himself what tangible result he expected from this +quaint outcome of his visit to Sloane Square. It was too soon yet. He +must trust to the vagaries of chance to elucidate many things now +hidden. Meanwhile a good dinner, a bright theatre, and the society of a +smart, nice-looking woman, were more than tolerable substitutes for +progress. + +As a partial explanation of his somewhat eccentric behavior, he +volunteered a lively account of a recent _cause celebre_, in which he +had taken a part, but the details of which had been rigidly kept from +the public. He more than hinted that Mr. Sydney Corbett had figured +prominently in the affair; and Mrs. Hillmer laughed with unrestrained +mirth at the unwonted appearance of her brother in the character of a +Lothario. + +"Tell me," said Bruce confidentially, when a couple of glasses of Moët +'89 had consolidated friendly relations, "what sort of a fellow is this +brother of yours?" + +"Not in any sense a bad boy, but a trifle wild. He will not live an +ordinary life, and at times he has been hard pressed to live at all. As +a matter of fact, it is this scrape he blundered into with Messrs. Dodge +& Co. that induced him to masquerade temporarily under an assumed name." + +"Then what is his real name?" + +"Ah, now you are pumping me again. I refuse to tell." + +"But there are generally serious reasons when a man disguises himself in +such fashion." + +"The reason he gave me was that he dreaded being writted for liability +regarding the shares I mentioned to you. It was good enough. Now you +come with this story of meddling with somebody else's wife. Surely this +is an additional reason. I supplied him with funds until we quarrelled, +and then he went off in a huff." + +"What did you quarrel about?" + +"That concerns me only." Mrs. Hillmer was so emphatic that Bruce dropped +the subject. + +When they drove to the theatre Mrs. Hillmer, on alighting at the +entrance, said to her coachman, "You may return home now, and bring +Dobson to meet me at 11.15." + +"May I venture to inquire who Dobson is?" said Claude. + +"Certainly. Dobson is my maid." + +This woman puzzled him the more he saw of her. He was now quite positive +that she lived on the fringe of Society. Her status was, at the best, +dubious. Yet he had never heard of her before, nor met her in public. +None of his friends were known to her, and she mentioned no one +beyond those popular personages who are _connu_ of all the world. +She was obviously wealthy and refined, with more than a spice of +unconventionality. At times, too, beneath her habitual expressions +of lively and vivacious interest, there was a touch of melancholy. + +For an instant her face grew sad when her eyes rested on a typical +family party of father, mother, and two girls who occupied seats in the +row of stalls directly in front of her. + +For some reason Bruce felt sorry for Mrs. Hillmer. He regretted that the +exigencies of his quest forced him to make her his dupe, and he resolved +that, if by any chance her scapegrace brother were concerned in Lady +Dyke's death, Mrs. Hillmer should, if possible, be spared personal +humiliation or disgrace. + +Indeed, he had formed such a favorable opinion of her that he had made +up his mind to conduct his future investigations without causing her to +assist involuntarily in putting a halter around her relative's neck. + +Nevertheless, it was impossible to avoid getting some further +information, as the lady herself paved the way for it. Her comments +betrayed such an accurate acquaintance with the technique of the stage +that he said to her, "You must have acted a good deal?" + +"No," she said, "not very much. But I was stage struck when young." + +"But you have not appeared in public?" + +"Yes, some six years ago. I worked so hard that I fell ill, and +then--then I got married." + +"Do you go out much to theatres, nowadays?" + +"Very little. It is lonely by oneself, and there are so few plays worth +seeing." + +Bruce wondered why she insisted so strongly upon the isolation of her +existence. In his new-found sympathy he forebore to question, and she +continued: + +"When I do visit a theatre I amuse myself mostly by silent criticism of +the actors and actresses. Not that I could do better than many of them, +or half so well, but it passes the time." + +"I hope you do not regard killing time as your main occupation?" + +"It is so, I fear, however hard I may strive otherwise." And again that +shadow of regret darkened the fair face. + +Some one in front turned round and glared at them angrily, for the +famous comedian, Mr. Prospect Ricks, was singing his deservedly famous +song, "It was all because I buttoned up her boots," so the conversation +dropped for the moment. + +Claude focussed his opera-glasses on the stage. While his eyes wandered +idly over the pretty faces and shapely limbs of the coryphées his brain +was busy piecing together all that he had heard. The odd coincidence of +the dates of Lady Dyke's murder and the speedy departure of the +self-styled Sydney Corbett for the Riviera would require a good deal of +explanation by the latter gentleman. + +True, it was not the barrister's habit to jump at conclusions. There +might be a perfectly valid motive for the journey. If the man did not +desire his whereabouts to be known, why did he leave his address at the +post-office? + +And, then, what possible reason could Lady Dyke have in visiting him +voluntarily and secretly at his chambers in Raleigh Mansions? This +virtuous and high-principled lady could have nothing in common with a +careless adventurer, taking the most lenient view of his sister's +description of him. And as Bruce's subtle brain strove vainly to match +the queer fragments of the puzzle, his keen eyes roved over the stage in +aimless activity. + +Suddenly they paused. His power of vision and mental analysis were +alike inadequate to the new and startling fact which had obtruded +itself, unasked and unsought for, upon his sight. + +Among the least prominent of the chorus girls, posturing and moving with +the stiffness and visible anxiety of the novice, who is not yet +accustomed to the glare of the footlights upon undraped limbs, was one +in whose every gesture Bruce took an absorbing interest. + +He was endowed in full measure with that prime requisite in the +detection of criminals, an unusually good memory for faces, together +with the artistic faculty of catching the true expression. + +Hence it was that, after the whirl of a dancing chorus had for a few +seconds brought this particular member of the company close to the +proscenium, Bruce became quite sure of having developed at least one +branch of his inquiry within measurable distance of its conclusion. + +The girl on the stage was Jane Harding, Lady Dyke's maid. + +When her features first flashed upon his conscious gaze he could hardly +credit the discovery. But each instant of prolonged scrutiny placed the +fact beyond doubt. Not even the make-up and the elaborate wig could +conceal the contour of her pretty if insipid face, and a slight trick +she had of drooping the left eyelid when thinking confirmed him in his +belief. + +So astounded was he at this sequel to his visit to the theatre, that he +utilized every opportunity of a full stage to examine still further the +appearance and style of this strange apparition. + +When the curtain fell and Jane Harding had vanished, he was brought back +to actuality by Mrs. Hillmer's voice. + +"Fie, Mr. Bruce. You are taking altogether too much notice of one of +the fair ladies in front. Which one is it? The tall standard bearer or +the little girl who pirouettes so gracefully?" + +"Neither, I assure you. I was taken up by wondering how a young woman +manages to secure employment in a theatre for the first time." + +"I think I can tell you. Influence goes a long way. Talent occasionally +counts. Then, a well-known agent may, for a nominal fee, get an opening +for a handsome, well-built girl who has taken lessons from either +himself or some of his friends in dancing or singing, or both." + +"Is such a thing possible for a domestic servant?" + +"It all depends upon the domestic servant's circle of acquaintances. As +a rule, I should say not. A theatre like this requires a higher average +of intelligence." + +This, and more, Bruce well knew, but he was only making conversation, +while he thought intently, almost fiercely, upon the latest phase of his +strange quest. + +During the third act he devoted more time to Mrs. Hillmer. If that +sprightly dame were a little astonished at the celerity with which he +conducted her to her carriage and the waiting Dobson, it was banished by +the nice way in which he thanked her for the pleasure she had conferred. + +"The enjoyment has been mostly on my side," she cried, as he stood near +the window of her brougham. "Come to see me again soon." + +He bowed, and would have said something if an imperious policeman had +not ordered the coachman to make way for the next vehicle. So Mrs. +Hillmer was whisked into the traffic. + +From force of habit, he glanced casually at the crowd struggling through +the exit of the theatre, and he caught sight of Mr. White, who, too +late, averted his round eyes and strove to shield his portly form in +the portico of a neighboring restaurant. + +He did not want to be bothered by the detective just then. He lit a +cigarette, and Mr. White slid off quietly into the stream of traffic, +finally crossing the road and jumping on to a Charing Cross 'bus. + +"So," said Claude to himself, "White has been watching Raleigh Mansions, +and watching me too. 'Pon my honor, I shouldn't wonder if he suspected +me of the murder! I'm glad I saw him just now. For the next couple of +hours I wish to be free from his interference." + +Waiting a few moments to make sure that White had not detailed an +aide-de-camp to continue the surveillance, he buttoned his overcoat to +the chin, tilted his hat forward, and strolled round to the stage door +of the Jollity Theatre. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +MISS MARIE LE MARCHANT + + +The uncertain rays of a weak lamp, struggling through panes dulled by +dirt and black letters, cast a fitful light about the precincts of the +stage-door. + +Elderly women and broken-down men, slovenly and unkempt, kept furtive +guard over the exit, waiting for the particular "super" to come forth +who would propose the expected adjournment to a favorite public-house. +Some smart broughams, a four-wheeler, and a few hansoms, formed a close +line along the pavement, which was soon crowded with the hundred odd +hangers-on of a theatre--scene-shifters, gasmen, limelight men, members +of the orchestra, dressers, and attendants--mingling with the small +stream of artistes constantly pouring out into the cold night after a +casual inquiry for letters at the office of the doorkeeper. + +This being a fashionable place of amusement there were not wanting +several representatives of the gilded youth, some obviously ginger-bread +or "unleavened" imitations, others callow specimens of the genuine +article. + +Bruce paid little heed to them as they impudently peered beneath each +broad-leafed and high-feathered hat to discover the charmer honored by +their chivalrous attentions. + +Yet the presence of this brigade of light-headed cavaliers helped the +barrister far more than he could have foreseen or even hoped. + +At last the ex-lady's maid appeared, dressed in a showy winter costume +and jaunty toque. She was on very friendly terms with two older girls, +on whom the stage had set its ineffaceable seal, and the reason was soon +apparent. + +"Come along," she cried, her words being evidently intended to have an +effect on others in the throng less favored than those whom she +addressed; "let us get into a hansom and go to Scott's for supper. Here, +cabby!" + +She was on the step of a hansom when a tall, good-looking boy, +faultlessly dressed, and with something of Sandhurst or Woolwich in his +carriage, darted forward. + +"Hello, Millie," he said to one of Jane Harding's companions. "How are +you? A couple of fellows have come up with me for the night. Let's all +go and have something to eat at the Duke's," thereby indicating a +well-known club usually patronized by higher class artistes than this +trio. + +After a series of introductions by Christian names, among which Bruce +failed to catch the word "Jane," the party went off in three hansoms, a +pair in each. + +Claude was not a member of the "Duke's," though he had often been there. +But there was a man close at hand who was a member of everything in +London that in any way pertained to things theatrical. Every one knew +Billy Sadler and Billy Sadler knew every one. A brief run in a cab +to a theatre, a restaurant, and another restaurant, revealed the +large-hearted Billy, drinking a whisky and soda and relating to a +friend, with great gusto and much gesticulation, the very latest quarrel +between the stage-manager and the leading lady. He hailed Claude with +enthusiasm. + +"'Pon my soul, Bruce, old chap, haven't seen you for an age. Where have +you bin? An' what's the little game now?" + +Mr. Sadler was fully aware of the barrister's penchant for investigating +mysteries. The two had often foregathered in the past. + +"Are you 'busy'"? said Bruce. + +"Not a bit. By-bye, Jack. See you at luncheon to-morrow at the +Gorgonzola. Well, what is it?" + +"I want you to come with me to the 'Duke's.' There's a young lady there +I'm interested in." + +Billy squeezed round in the hansom, which was now bowling across a +corner of Trafalgar Square. + +"You," he cried. "After a girl! Is she in the profession? Is mamma +frightened about her angel? The correct figure for a breach just now, my +boy, is five thou'." + +"Oh, it's nothing serious. I will tell you all about it when matters +have cleared a bit. It is a mere item in a really big story. But, here +we are. Take me straight to the supper-room." + +As they entered the comfortable, brightly lit club the strains of a band +came pleasantly to their ears, and in a minute they were installed at a +corner table in the splendid room devoted to the most cheery of all +gatherings--a Bohemian meal when the labors of the night are past. + +Bruce soon marked his quarry. Jane Harding was in great form--eating, +drinking, and talking at the same time. + +"Who is that, Billy?" he said, indicating the girl. + +Sadler carefully balanced his _pince-nez_ on his well-defined nose, +gazed, and laughed: "Goodness knows. She's a new-comer, and not much at +the best. Do you know where she carries a banner?" + +"At the Jollity." + +"Oh! then here's our man"--for a Mephistophelian gentleman was passing +at the moment. "Say, Rosenheim, who's the new coryphée over there?" + +Mephistopheles halted, looked at Jane and laughed, too. "Her name is +Miss Marie le Marchant; but as she happened to be born in London she +pronounces it Mahrie Lee Mahshuns, with the accent on the 'Mahs.' +Anything else you would like to know?" + +"Yes, I'm stuck on her! Where did you pick her up?" + +"She's a housemaid, or something of the sort. Came into money. Wants to +knock 'em on the stige. The rest is easy." + +"Has she been with you long?" put in Claude, as their informant was the +under-manager of the Jollity. + +Mr. Rosenheim glanced at him. Sadler, he knew, had no interest in the +girl, and the barrister did not quite possess the juvenile appearance +that warranted such solicitude. + +"She joined us just before Christmas. What's up? Is she really worth a +lot of 'oof?" + +"I should imagine not," laughed Bruce; and Mr. Rosenheim joined another +group. + +Supper ended, Marie and Millie, and eke Flossie, attended by their +swains, discussed coffee and cognac in the _foyer_. + +Chance separated Miss le Marchant, as she may now be known, momentarily +from the others, and Bruce darted forward. + +"Good-evening," he said. "I am delighted to meet you here." + +The girl recognized him instantly. She would have denied her identity, +but her nerve failed her before those steadfast, penetrating eyes. +Moreover, it was not an ill thing for such a well-bred, well-dressed man +to acknowledge her so openly. + +"Good-evening, Mr. Bruce," she said, with a smile of assurance, though +her voice faltered a little. + +He resolved to make the situation easy. + +"We have not met for such a long time," he said; "and I am simply dying +to have a talk with you. I am sure your friends will pardon me if I +carry you off for five minutes to a quiet corner." + +With a simper, Miss le Marchant took his proffered arm, and they went +off to an unoccupied table. + +"Now, Jane Harding," said he, with some degree of sternness in his +manner, "be good enough to explain to me why you are passing under a +false name, and the reasons which led you to leave Sir Charles Dyke's +house in such a particularly disagreeable way." + +"Disagreeable? I only left in a hurry. Who had any right to stop me?" + +"No one, in a sense, except that Sir Charles Dyke may feel inclined to +prosecute you." + +"For what, Mr. Bruce?" + +This emancipated servant girl was not such a simpleton as she looked. It +was necessary to frighten her and at the same time to force her to admit +the facts with reference to her sensational flight from Wensley House. + +"You must know," he said, "that Sir Charles Dyke can proceed against you +in the County Court to recover wages in lieu of notice, and this would +be far from pleasant for you in your new surroundings." + +"Yes, I know that. But why should Sir Charles Dyke, or you, or any other +gentleman, want to destroy a poor girl's prospects in that fashion?" + +"Surely, you must feel that some explanation is due to us for your +extraordinary behavior?" + +"No, I don't feel a bit like it." + +"But why did you go away?" + +"To suit myself." + +"Could you not have given notice? Why was it necessary to create a +further scandal in addition to the disappearance of your unfortunate +mistress?" + +"I am sorry for that. It was thoughtless, I admit. If I had to act over +again I should have done differently. But what does it matter now?" + +"It matters this much--that the police must be informed of your +existence, as they are searching for you, believing that you are in some +way mixed up with Lady Dyke's death." + +The girl started violently, and she flushed, rather with anger than +alarm, Bruce thought, as he watched her narrowly. + +"The police, indeed," she snorted; "what have the police to do with me? +A nice thing you're saying, Mr. Bruce." + +"I am merely telling you the naked truth." + +"All right. Tell them. I don't care a pin for them or you. Have you +anything else to say, because I wish to join my friends?" + +The girl's language and attitude mystified him more than any preceding +feature of this remarkable investigation. She was, of course, far better +educated than he had imagined, and the difference between the hysterical +witness at the coroner's inquiry and this pert, self-possessed young +woman was phenomenal. + +Rather than risk an open rupture, the barrister temporized. "If you are +anxious to quarrel with me, by all means do so," he said; "but that was +not my motive in speaking to you here to-night." + +Miss le Marchant shot a suspicious glance at him. "Then what was your +motive," she said. + +"Chiefly to reassure my friend, your former master, concerning you; and, +perhaps, to learn the cause of your very strange conduct." + +"Why should Sir Charles bother his head about me?" + +"As I have told you. Because of the coincidence between your departure +and Lady--" + +"Oh yes, I know that." Then she added testily: "I was a fool not to +manage differently." + +"So you refuse me an explanation?" + +"No, I don't. I have no reason to do so. I came in for some money, and +as I have longed all my life to be an actress I could not wait an hour, +a moment, before I--before I--" + +"Before you tried to gratify your impulse." + +"Yes, that is what I wanted to say." + +"But why not at least have written to Sir Charles, telling him of your +intentions?" + +The fair Marie was silent for a moment. The question confused her. "I +hardly know," she replied. + +"Will you write to him now?" + +"I don't see why I should." + +"Indeed. Not even when it was you who gave some of your mistress's +underclothing to Mr. White, by which means he was able to identify the +body found at Putney as that of Lady Dyke?" + +"Mr. White told you that, did he?" + +"He did." + +"Then you had better get him to give you all further information, Mr. +Bruce, as not another word will you get out of me." + +She bounced up, fiery red, pluming herself for the fray. + +"Will you not communicate with Sir Charles?" he said, utterly baffled by +Miss le Marchant's uncompromising attitude. + +"Perhaps I will and perhaps I won't. Mr. White, indeed!" And she ran off +to join her friends. + +The barrister drove quietly homewards. This was his summary of the +evening's events: "I have found two women. When I know all about them I +shall be able to lay my hand on the person who killed Lady Dyke." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +IN THE CITY + + +Messrs. Dodge & Co., of Leadenhall Street, possessed business premises +of greater pretensions than Bruce had pictured to himself from Mrs. +Hillmer's description of their transactions with her brother. + +Not only were their offices commodious and well situated, but a liberal +display of gold lettering, intermingled with official brass plates +marking the registering offices of many companies, gave evidence of some +degree of importance--whether fictitious or otherwise Bruce could not +determine, as he scrutinized the exterior of the building on the +following morning. + +Moreover, workmen were even then busy in substituting the title "Dodge, +Son & Co., Ltd.," for "Messrs. Dodge & Company," the suggestive nature +of the latter designation having perhaps proved a stumbling-block in the +way of the guileless investor. + +When the barrister entered the office, a busy place, a hive of many +clerks, and adorned with gigantic maps of the Rand, West Australia, +Cripple Creek, and Klondike, he asked for "Mr. Dodge." + +His card procured him ready admission. He was shown into an elaborately +upholstered apartment of considerable size. At the farther end, seated +in front of a gorgeous American desk, was a young man who ostentatiously +finished a letter and then motioned the barrister to a seat. + +Bruce was curious on the question of the age of the head of the firm. + +"Are you Mr. Dodge, or the son?" he said, with the utmost gravity. + +The other was taken back by this unexpected method of opening the +conversation. It annoyed him. + +"I am the representative of the firm, sir, and fully able to deal with +your business, whatever it may be," he replied. + +"No doubt. But it will simplify matters if I know exactly to whom I am +addressing myself." + +After an uneasy shuffling in his seat--he could not guess what this +keen-faced, earnest-eyed lawyer might want--the representative of +Messrs. Dodge, Son & Co. (Limited) explained that he was Dodge, and the +name of the firm had been adopted for general purposes. + +"Then there is no 'son,' I take it." + +"Yes, there is, sir,"--this with a snort of anger. + +"How old is he?" + +"What the Dickens has that got to do with it? Will you kindly tell me +what you want, sir, as my time is fully occupied?" + +"Just now I want to know how old the 'son' is?" + +This calm persistence irritated Mr. Dodge beyond endurance. + +"Three years, confound you, and his sister is four months. Can I oblige +you with any more details concerning my family affairs?" + +Having purposely raised this man to boiling point by this harmless +method of examination, Claude tackled the real business in hand. He was +quite sure that a financial sharper in a temper was far more likely to +blurt out the truth than if he were approached in a matter-of-fact +manner. + +"To begin with," he explained, never taking his eyes off the furious +face of Mr. Dodge, "I have called to ask for information with regard to +your dealings with Mr. Sydney H. Corbett, of Raleigh Mansions, Sloane +Square." + +"I never heard of him in my life. You have evidently come to the wrong +office, Mr. Bruce." + +"Are you quite sure?" + +"Well, nearly so. However, I can tell you in a moment, as it is +impossible for me to carry every name connected with several companies +in my memory." + +Mr. Dodge recovered his temper now that he saw a chance of disconcerting +his caustic visitor. He touched an electric bell, and told the answering +youth to send Mr. Hawkins. + +"My correspondence clerk," he explained loftily when Hawkins entered. +"Are we in communication with any one named Sydney H. Corbett, Mr. +Hawkins?" + +"No, sir." + +"Have you ever heard the name?" + +"No, sir." + +"That will do. You may go. You see you have come to the wrong shop, Mr. +Bruce." + +"Yes, so I see." + +The barrister kept looking at the back of Mr. Dodge's head, but made no +move. + +Mr. Dodge became puzzled. + +"Now, Mr. Bruce," he cried, "you know the age of my son, and the extent +of my information about Mr. Corbett. Is there anything else in which I +may be of service?" + +"Yes. You do a great deal of underwriting, mostly for the flotation of +gold-mining companies?" + +"Y--yes. That is a branch of our business." + +"I am interested in this class of undertaking, and I was given to +understand that Mr. Corbett has had some dealings with you in a similar +respect for a considerable sum of money." + +"The name is absolutely unknown to me." + +"Of course. So I gather. I am sorry to hear it. Several clients of mine +have money to invest in that way, and I naturally came to a firm whose +name apparently figured largely in the transactions of Mr. Corbett." + +It was good to see the manner in which Mr. Dodge metaphorically kicked +himself for his previous attitude. His emotion was painful. For quite an +appreciable time he could not trust his sentiments to words. + +At last he struggled to express himself. + +"Really, Mr. Bruce, if you had only put things differently. Don't you +see, it rather upset me when you came in and began jawing about the +youngsters. And then you spring Mr. Corbett's name on me--a man of whom +I have no sort of knowledge. It must have been my firm of which your +friends heard. There is absolutely no other Dodge in Leadenhall Street. +Indeed, we are the only financial Dodges--that is--er--Messrs. Dodge, +Son & Co. (Limited) are the only firm of the name dealing with financial +matters--in the city." + +By this time Bruce had assured himself that Mr. Dodge did not know Mr. +Corbett's identity, and if Mrs. Hillmer's brother had changed his name +to conceal himself from Dodge, it was likely to be successful. + +"Anyhow, I am here, Mr. Dodge," he said cheerfully, "so I may as well +enter into negotiations with you. Have you any good things in hand at +this moment?" + +"Some of the best. We are just waiting for the market to ease a bit, +and we shall have at least five splendid properties to place before the +public. By the way, do you smoke?" + +Bruce did smoke; and Mr. Dodge produced a box of excellent cigars. Then +he warmed to his work. + +"Here is the prospectus of the Golden Halo Mine, capital £150,000, for +which the vendors are asking £140,000 in cash, with a working capital of +£10,000. The ore now in sight is estimated to produce two millions +sterling, and the mine is not one-tenth developed. We are offering +underwriters ten per cent in cash, and there is not the slightest risk, +as the shares will stand at a high premium within a few days after the +lists--" + +"It sounds most promising," said Bruce; "but my principals are more +interested in taking up concerns which have been already established, +but in which, for want of sufficient capital, the vendors' shares have, +by a process of reconstruction, come into the market. If you have +anything of that kind--" + +"The very thing," interrupted Dodge excitedly. "The Springbok Mine will +just suit 'em. After all is said and done, Golden Halos are a bit in the +air, between you and me. But the Springbok is a genuine article. It was +capitalized for a quarter of a million, and the directors went to +allotment on a subscription list of about £14,000. This money has been +expended, but twice the amount is necessary to develop the property +properly. A call was made on the shares, but no one paid up, and there +is a talk of compulsory reconstruction. Believe me, money put into it +now will yield two hundred per cent in dividends within twelve months." + +"There is a whiff of scent on this trail," said Claude to himself. He +added aloud: "That looks promising. Can you give me details?" + +"By all means. Here is the original prospectus." Bruce glanced through +the document, which dealt with the Springbok claims on the Rand with +more candor than is usually exhibited in such compilations. Judging from +the reports of several mining engineers of repute it really looked as +if, this time, Mr. Dodge were speaking with some degree of accuracy. + +"This reads well," said Bruce. "What proportion of share capital is +falling in on the reconstruction scheme?" + +"I hold fifty thousand shares myself," cried Dodge, "and though my money +is locked up just now I am so convinced about this mine that I will +manage to pay the call myself. Roughly speaking, there are one hundred +and fifty thousand shares to be underwritten at, say, three shillings +each." + +"And who are the present holders?" + +The barrister asked the question in the most unconcerned way imaginable, +yet upon the answer depended the whole success or otherwise of this +hitherto unproductive mission. + +Mr. Dodge was manifestly anxious. + +"I take it that we are talking with a definite view to business?" he +said. + +The barrister hesitated. Even in the detection of a crime a man does not +care to tell a deliberate lie, and Dodge's attitude so far had been +candid enough. The Springbok Mine honestly looked to be a good +speculative investment, so he resolved to place the proposition before +one or two friends who dealt with similar matters, and who were fully +able to look after their own interests. + +"Yes," he answered, "I am here for that purpose. If my principals like +this thing they will go in for it." + +"Then here is the vendors' list," said Mr. Dodge, taking a foolscap +sheet from a drawer. + +Claude perused it nonchalantly. His quick eyes took in each name and +address out of half-a-dozen, and rejected all as being in no way +connected with the man whose antecedents he was seeking. + +Yet, where possible, he left nothing to chance. + +"Have you any objection to a copy being made?" he asked. + +Mr. Dodge hummed doubtfully. + +"You see," went on the barrister, "it is best to be quite candid with +people whom you wish to bring into risky if apparently high promising +ventures. I presume these gentlemen are moneyless. If so, it is a factor +in favor of your scheme. Should any of them be men of means, my +principals would naturally ask why they did not themselves underwrite +the shares." + +Mr. Dodge was convinced. "From that point of view," he cried +emphatically, "they are above suspicion. Jot them down, sir." + +The barrister armed himself with the necessary documents, and they +parted with mutual good wishes. It was only after reflection that Mr. +Dodge saw how remarkably little he had got out of the interview. "He was +a jolly smart chap," communed the company promoter. "I wonder what he +was really after. And who the dickens is Mr. Sydney H. Corbett? Anyhow, +the Springbok business is quite above board. How can I raise the wind +for my little lot?" + +If Mr. Bruce had probed more deeply Mr. Dodge's holding, he would have +been saved much future perturbation. But, clever as he was, he did not +know all the methods of financial juggling practised by experts on the +Stock Exchange. + +A hansom brought him quickly to Portman Square. In fulfilment of his +promise, he was about to place Sir Charles Dyke in possession of his +recent discoveries. + +When the door of Wensley House opened, the butler, Thompson, who +happened to be in the hall, anticipated the footman's answer to Bruce's +inquiry. + +"Sir Chawles left yesterday for Bournemouth, sir. 'E was that hovercome +by the weather an' his trouble that 'e has gone for a few days' rest at +the seaside. If you called, sir, I was to tell you 'e would be glad to +see you there should you find it convenient to run down. And, sir, +you'll never guess who came 'ere this morning, as bold as brass." + +"Jane Harding." + +"Now, 'ow upon earth can you 'it upon things that way, sir? It was 'er, +'er very self. And you ought to 'ave seen her airs. 'Thompson,' sez she, +'is Sir Chawles at 'ome?' 'No, 'e isn't,' sez I; 'but you're wanted at +the polis station.' She was in a keb, and she 'ad asked a butcher's boy +to pull the bell, so 'im and the cabby larfed. 'Thompson,' she said, +very red in the face, 'I'll 'ave you dismissed for your impidence.' An' +off she went. Did you ever 'ear anythink like it, sir?" + +"No, Thompson, Miss Harding is certainly a cool hand." + +Bruce walked to his chambers, and his stroll through the parks was +engrossed by one subject of thought. It was not Mrs. Hillmer, nor +Corbett, nor Dodge who troubled him. What puzzled him more than all else +was the "impidence" of Jane Harding. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE HOTEL DU CERCLE + + +Bruce did not go to Bournemouth. + +He quitted London by the next mail, and after a wearisome journey of +thirty-six hours, found himself in the garden courtyard of the Hotel du +Cercle at Monte Carlo. + +Refreshed by a bath and an excellent _déjeuner_, he decided to go +quietly to work and search the visitors' book for himself without asking +any questions. The Hotel du Cercle was a popular resort, and it took him +some time, largely devoted to the elucidation of hieroglyphic +signatures, before he was quite satisfied that no one even remotely +suggestive of the name of Sydney H. Corbett had recorded his presence in +the hotel since the first week in November. + +The barrister, for the first time, began to doubt Mrs. Hillmer. Twice +had her statements not been verified by facts. It was with an expression +of keen annoyance at his own folly in trusting so much to a favorable +impression that he turned to the hotel clerk to ask if the name of Mr. +Sydney H. Corbett was familiar to him. + +The courteous Frenchman screwed up his forehead into a reflective frown +before he answered: "But yes, monsieur. Me, I have not seen the +gentleman, but he exists. There have been letters--two, three letters." + +"Ah, letters! Has he received them?" + +The attendant examined a green baize-covered board, decorated with +diamonds of tape, in which was stuck an assortment of letters, mostly +addressed to American tourists. + +"They were here! They have gone! Then he has taken them!" + +"Yes," cried Bruce; "but surely you know something about him?" + +"Nothing. This hall is open to all the world." + +"Do you tell me that any one can come here and take any letters which +may be stuck in that rack?" + +"Will the gentleman be pleased to consider? Many persons give their +address here days and weeks before they come to arrive. Some persons, in +the manner of Monte Carlo, do not wish their names to be known of +everybody. We cannot distinguish. We do not allow the address of the +hotel to be used improperly, if we know it; but there are no +complaints." + +The barrister did not argue the matter further. He only said: "Perhaps +you can tell me thus far, as I am very anxious to meet Mr. Corbett. +About how long is it since the last letter came for him?" + +"But certainly. It came yesterday. It was re-addressed from some place +in London. If possible, with the next one I will keep watch for Mr. +Corbett." + +So Mrs. Hillmer had not misled him. The so-called Corbett was in Monte +Carlo, but had possibly disguised himself under another name. Again did +Bruce consult the hotel register, this time with the aid of the vendors' +list in the Springbok Mine, but without result. + +There was nothing for it but to familiarize himself with Monte Carlo and +its _habitués_, awaiting developments in the chase of Corbett. In +January, when London alternates between fog and sleet, it is not an +intolerable thing to remain in forced idleness amid the sunshine and +flowers of the Riviera. There are two ways of "doing" Monte Carlo. You +may live riotously, lose your substance at the Casino, and go home on a +free ticket supplied by the proprietors of the gambling saloons, or you +may enjoy to the utmost the keen air, magnificent scenery, fine +promenades, and excellent music--the two latter provided by the same +benevolent agency. + +It is needless to say which of these alternatives appealed to Claude +Bruce. Being a rich man, it was of no consequence to him to lose a few +louis in backing the red for a five minutes' bit of excitement. Being a +sensible one, he then quitted the Casino and went for a stroll in the +gardens. + +Fashion, backed by the doctors, has decreed that no longer shall +the northern littoral of the Mediterranean be the only haven of +rest for those afflicted with pulmonary complaints. Weak-chested and +consumptive people are now banished to the windless and icy altitudes +of Switzerland; so of recent years a walk through Nice, Mentone, or +Monte Carlo itself is not such a depressing experience as it was when +every second person encountered was a hopeless invalid. + +A pigeon-shooting match was in progress, and, as Bruce fell in with a +friend who took a prominent part in local life, the two entered the club +grounds to watch the contest. + +At the moment a handsome, well-set-up young Englishman was shooting off +a tie with a Russian count. A very pretty girl, with a delicate and +refined beauty enhanced by a pleasant expression, was taking a most +unfeminine interest in the slaughter of the pigeons by the Englishman. + +Her eyes spoke her thoughts. It was as if they said: "I do not want the +birds to be killed, but I want a certain person to win." + +Nine birds each had been grassed, and the Russian was growing impatient. +The Englishman was cool, his fair backer keenly excited. The Count fired +and missed his tenth. Up rose the Englishman's bird, and the girl could +not restrain an impetuous "Now!" + +So the Englishman missed also. + +Amidst the buzz of comment which arose, Bruce said to his companion: +"What's going on?" + +"This is the final tie in the International. It is a big prize, and each +man has backed himself heavily. The two are Albert Mensmore and Count +Bischkoff. The girl has taken all the nerve out of Mensmore. Bar +accident, he is a goner." + +The cynic was right. In the thirteenth round the count alone scored, and +smiled largely in response to his antagonist's quiet congratulations. As +for the girl, it was with difficulty she restrained her tears. + +"I think that we have witnessed a tragedy," said Bruce's acquaintance as +they walked off; and the barrister agreed with him. He was sorry for +Mensmore and his pretty supporter. Mayhap the loss of the match meant a +great deal to both of them. + +That night he learned by chance that Mensmore lived at the Hotel du +Cercle. He met him in the billiard-room and tried to inveigle him into +conversation. But the young fellow was too miserable to respond to his +advances. Beyond a mere civil acknowledgement of some slight act of +politeness, Bruce could not draw him out. + +Next morning he saw Mensmore again. If the man looked haggard the +previous evening his appearance now was positively startling, that is, +to one of Bruce's powers of observation. Ninety-nine men out of a +hundred would have seen that Mensmore had not slept well. Bruce was +assured that, for some reason, the other's brain was dominated by some +overwhelming idea, and one which might eventuate in a tragic manner were +it to be allowed to go unchecked. + +For some reason he took a good deal of interest in his unfortunate +fellow-countryman, and determined to help him if the opportunity +presented itself. + +It came, with dramatic rapidity. + +During dinner he noticed that Mensmore was in such a state of mental +disturbance that he ate and drank with the air of one who is feverishly +wasting rather than replenishing his strength. + +Soon after eight o'clock, at the hour when frequenters of the Casino go +there in order to secure a seat for the evening's play, Mensmore quitted +the dining-room. Bruce followed him unobstrusively, and was just in time +to see him enter the lift. + +The barrister waited in the hall, having first secured his hat and +overcoat from the bureau, where he happened to have left them. + +Even while he noted the descending lift, in which he could see Mensmore, +who had donned a light covert coat, the breast of which bulged somewhat +on the left side, the hotel clerk came to him, triumphantly holding a +letter. + +"And now, monsieur," cried the clerk, "we shall see what we shall see." + +The missive was addressed to the mysterious Sydney H. Corbett, and had +been forwarded by the Sloane Square Post-Office. + +With a clang the door of the lift swung open and Mensmore hastened out. +Bruce had to decide instantly between the chance of seeing Corbett with +his own eyes and pursuing the fanciful errand he had mapped out in +imagination with reference to the stranger who so interested him. + +"Thank you," he said to the clerk. "I am going to the Casino for an +hour; you will greatly oblige me by keeping a sharp lookout for any one +who claims the letter." + +"Monsieur, it shall have my utmost regard." + +The barrister had not erred in his surmise as to Mensmore's destination. +The young man walked straight across the square and entered the grounds +of the famous Casino. + +Indoors, an excellent band was playing a selection from "The Geisha." +The spacious _foyer_ was fast filling with a fashionable throng; +without, the silver radiance of the moon, lighting up gardens, rocks, +buildings, and sea, might well have added the last link to the pleasant +bondage that would keep any one from the gambling saloon that night; but +Mensmore heeded none of these things. + +He passed the barrier, closely followed by Bruce, crossed the _foyer_, +and disappeared through the baize doors that guard the magnificent room +in which roulette is played. + +Round several of the tables a fairly considerable crowd had gathered +already. The more, the merrier, is the rule of the Casino. There is +something curiously fascinating for the gambler in the presence of +others. It would seem to be an almost ridiculous thing for a man to +stalk solemnly up to a deserted board and stake his money on the chances +of the game merely for the edification of the officials in charge. + +Bruce entered the room soon after Mensmore, and saw the latter elbowing +his way to a seat about to be vacated by a stout Spanish lady, who had +rapidly lost the sum she allowed herself to stake each day. + +She was one of those numerous players who bring to the Casino a certain +amount daily, and systematically stop playing when they have either lost +their money or won a previously determined maximum. + +This method, in fact, when combined with a careful system, is the only +one whereby even a rich individual can indulge in a costly pastime, and, +at the same time, escape speedy ruin. With a fair share of luck it may +be made to pay; with continuous bad fortune the loss is spread over such +a period that common sense has some opportunity to rescue the victim +before it is too late. + +Claude took up a position from which he could note the actions of the +stranger in whom he was so interested. At first, Mensmore staked +nothing. He placed a small pile of gold in front of him; he seemed to +listen expectantly to the _croupier's_ monotonous cry--"_Vingt-sept_, +_rouge_, _impair_, _passe_," or "_Dixhuit_, _noir_, _pair_, _manque_," +and so on, while the little ivory ball whirred around the disc, and the +long rakes, with unerring skill, drew in or pushed forward the sums lost +or won. + +The dominant expression of Mensmore's face as he sat and listened was +one of disappointment. Something for which he waited did not happen. At +last, with a tightening of his lips and a gathering sternness in his +eyes, he placed five louis on the red, the number previously called +being thirteen. + +Black won. + +For the next three attempts, each time with a five louis stake on the +board, Mensmore backed the red, but still black won. + +Next to him, an Italian, betting in notes of a thousand francs each, +had quadrupled his first bet by backing the black. + +Both men rose simultaneously, the Italian grinning delightedly at a +smart Parisienne, who joyously nodded her congratulations, the +Englishman quiet, utterly unmoved, but slightly pallid. + +He passed out into the _foyer_ and stopped to light a cigarette. Bruce +noticed that his hand was steady, and that all the air of excitement had +gone. + +These were ill signs. There is no man so calm as he who has deliberately +resolved to take his own life. That Mensmore was ruined, that he was +hopelessly in love with a woman whom he could not marry, and that he was +about to commit suicide, Bruce was as certain as though the facts had +been proved by a coroner. + +But this thing should not happen if he could prevent it. + +The band was now playing one of Waldteufel's waltzes. Mensmore listened +to the fascinating melody for a moment. He hesitated at the door of the +writing-room; but he went out, puffing furiously at his cigarette. A +guard looked at him as he turned to the right of the entrance, and made +for the shaded terraces overlooking the sea. + +"A silent Englishman," thought the man; and he caught sight of Bruce, +also smoking, preoccupied, and solitary. + +"Another silent Englishman. _Mon Dieu!_ What miserable lives these +English lead!" + +And so the two vanished into the blackness of the foliage, while, within +the brilliantly lighted building, the _frou-frou_ of silk mingled with +soft laughter and the sweet strains of music. + +If it be true that extremes meet, then this was a night for a tragedy. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +BREAKING THE BANK + + +There were not many people in this part of the Casino gardens. A few +love-making couples and a handful of others who preferred the chilly +quietude of Nature to the throng of the interior promenade, made up the +occupants of the winding paths that cover the seaward slope. + +At last Mensmore halted. There was no one in front, and he turned to +look if the terrace were clear behind him. He caught sight of Bruce, but +did not recognize him, and leant against a low wall, ostensibly to gaze +at the sea until the other had passed. + +Claude came up to him and cried cheerily: + +"Hello! Is that you, Mr. Mensmore? Isn't it a lovely night?" + +Mensmore, startled at being thus unexpectedly addressed by name, wheeled +about, stared at the new-comer, and said, very stiffly: + +"Yes; but I felt rather seedy in the Casino, so I came here to be +alone." + +"Of course," answered the barrister. "You look a little out of sorts. +Perhaps got a chill, eh? It is dangerous weather here, particularly on +these heavenly evenings. Come back with me to the hotel, and have a +stiff brandy and soda. It will brace you up." + +Mensmore flushed a little at this persistence. + +"I tell you," he growled, "that I only require to be left in peace, and +I shall soon recover from my indisposition. I am awfully obliged to you, +but--" + +"But you wish me to walk on and mind my own business?" + +"Not exactly that, old chap. Please don't think me rude. I am very +sorry, but I _can't_ talk much to-night." + +"So I understand. That is why I think it is best for you to have +company, even such disagreeable companionship as my own." + +"Confound it, man," cried the other, now thoroughly irritated; "tell me +which way you are going and I will take the other. Why on earth cannot +you take a polite hint, and leave me to myself?" + +"It is precisely because I am good at taking a hint that I positively +refuse to leave you until you are safely landed at your hotel. Indeed, I +may stick to you then for some hours." + +"The devil take you! What do you mean?" + +"Exactly what I say." + +"If you don't quit this instant I will punch your head for you." + +"Ah! You are recovering already. But before you start active exercise +take your overcoat off. That revolver in the breast pocket might go off +accidentally, you know. Besides, as I shall hit back, I might fetch my +knuckles against it, and that would be hardly fair. Otherwise, I can do +as much in the punching line as you can, any day." + +This reply utterly disconcerted Mensmore. + +"Look here," he said, avoiding Bruce's steadfast gaze, "what are you +talking about? What has it got to do with you, anyhow?" + +"Oh, a great deal. My business principally consists in looking after +other people's affairs. Just now it is my definite intention to prevent +you from blowing out your brains, or what passes for them." + +"Then all I can say is that I wish you were in Jericho. It is your own +fault if you get into trouble over this matter. Had you gone about your +business I would have waited. As it is--" + +It so happened that the guard, having nothing better to do, strolled +along the terraces by the same path that Mensmore and Bruce had +followed. The first sight that met his astonished eyes, when in the +flood of moonlight he discovered their identity, was the spectacle of +these two springing at each other like a pair of wild cats. + +"_Parbleu_," he shouted, "the solitary ones are fighting!" + +He ran forward, drawing his short sword, ready to stick the weapon into +either of the combatants if the majesty of the law in his own person +were not at once respected. + +In reality, the affair was simple enough. Mensmore made an ineffectual +attempt to draw his revolver, and Bruce pinioned him before he could get +his hand up to his pocket. Both men were equally matched, and it was +difficult to say how the struggle might have ended had not the +sword-brandishing guard appeared on the scene. + +Claude, even in this excited situation, kept his senses. Mensmore, blind +with rage and the madness of one who would voluntarily plunge into the +Valley of the Shadow, took heed of naught save the effort to rid himself +of the restraining clutch. + +"Put away your sword. Seize his arms from behind. He is a suicide," +shouted the barrister to the gesticulating and shrieking Frenchman. + +Fortunately, Bruce was an excellent linguist. The man caught Mensmore's +arms, put a knee in the small of his back, and doubled him backwards +with a force that nearly dislocated his spine. In the same instant +Claude secured the revolver, which he promptly pocketed. + +"It is well," he said to the guard. "Here is a louis. Say nothing, but +leave us." + +"Monsieur understands that the honor of a French policeman--" + +"I understand that if there is any report made of this affair to the +authorities you will be dismissed for negligence. Had this lunatic been +left to your care he would now have been lying here dead. Do you doubt +me?" + +The guard hesitated. "Monsieur mentioned a louis," he said, for Bruce's +finger and thumb had returned the coin to his waistcoat pocket. + +This transaction satisfactorily ended, Bruce accosted Mensmore, who was +awkwardly twisting himself to see if his backbone were all right. + +"You are not hurt, I hope?" + +"It is matterless. Why could you not let me finish the business in my +own way?" + +"Because the world has some use for a man like you. Because you are a +moral coward, and require support from a stronger nature. Because I did +not want to think of that girl crying her eyes out to-morrow when she +read of your death, or heard of it, as she assuredly would have done." + +Mensmore, though still furious at his fellow-countryman's interference, +was visibly amazed at this final reference. + +"What do you know about her?" he cried. + +"Nothing, save what my eyes tell me." + +"They seem to tell you a remarkable lot about my affairs." + +"Possibly. Meanwhile I want you to give me your word of honor that you +will not make any further attempt on your life during the next seven +days." + +"The word of honor of a disgraced man! Will you accept it?" + +"Most certainly." + +"You are a queer chap, and no mistake. Very well, I give it. At the same +time, I cannot help dying of starvation. I lost my last cent to-night at +roulette. I am hopelessly involved in debts which I cannot pay. I have +no prospects and no friends. You are not doing me a kindness, my dear +fellow, in keeping me alive, even for seven days." + +"You might have obtained your fare to London from the authorities of the +Casino?" + +"Hardly. I lost very little at roulette. I am not such a fool. My losses +are nearly all in bets over the pigeon-shooting match which I ought to +have won. I was backing myself at a game where I was apparently sure to +succeed." + +"Until you were beaten by a woman's voice." + +"Yes, wizard. I am too dazed to wonder at you sufficiently. Yet I would +have lost fifty times for her sake, though it was for her sake that I +wanted to win." + +"Come, let us smoke. Sit down, and tell me all about it." + +They took the nearest seat, lighting cigarettes. The guard, watching +them from the shade of a huge palm-tree, murmured: + +"Holy Virgin, what madmen are these English! They move apart, unknown; +they fight; they fraternize; they consume tobacco--all within five +minutes." + +And he lovingly felt for the louis to assure himself that he was not +dreaming. + +"There is not much to tell," said Mensmore, who had quite recovered his +self-control, and was now trying to sum up the man who had so curiously +entered his life at the moment when he had decided to do away with it. +"I came here, being a poor chap living mostly on my wits, to go in for +the pigeon-shooting tournaments. I won several, and was in fair funds. +Then I fell in love. The girl is rich, well-connected, and all that sort +of thing. She is the first good influence that has crossed my life, so I +thought that perhaps my luck was now going to turn. I backed myself for +all I was worth, and more, to win the championship. If it came off I +should have won over £3,000. As it is, I owe £500, which must be paid on +Monday. My total assets, after I settled my hotel bill and sent a cheque +to a chum who took some of my bets in his own name, was £16. Now I have +nothing. So you see--" + +"Yes," interrupted Bruce, "it is a hard case. But death is no +settlement. Nobody gets paid, and everybody is worried." + +"My dear fellow, my life is in your keeping for seven days. After that, +I presume, I take myself in charge again." + +The barrister took thought for a while before he inquired: + +"Why did you go to the Casino to-night, if you did not patronize the +tables as a rule?" + +The other colored somewhat and laughed sarcastically. + +"Just a final bit of folly. I dreamt that my luck had turned." + +"Dreamt?" + +"Yes, last night. Three times did I imagine that I was playing roulette, +and that after a certain number--whether thirteen or twenty-three I was +uncertain--turned up, there was a run of seventeen on the red. The funny +thing is that I had an impression that the number was twenty-three, +but with a doubt that it might be thirteen. I remember, during a +sub-conscious state in the third dream, resolving to listen and look +more carefully to discover the exact number. But again things got +blurred. The only clear point was that the run of seventeen on the red +commenced at once." + +"Well?" + +"Well, I took my remaining cash, went to the Casino, became a bit +impatient when neither number turned up for quite a while, and when +thirteen appeared I backed the red. But four times it was the black that +won." + +"So I saw." + +"Have you been keeping guard over me?" + +"Yes, in a sort of way." + +"You are a queer chap. I can't help saying that I am obliged to you. But +it won't do any good. I am absolutely dead broke." + +"Now listen to me. I will pay your fare back to London and give you +something to live on until I return a week hence. Then you must come to +see me, and I will help you into some sort of situation. But you must +once and for all abandon this notion of suicide." + +"What about my debts?" + +"Confound your debts. Tell people to wait until you are able to pay +them." + +"And--and the girl?" + +"If she is worth having she will give you a chance of making a living +sufficient to enable you to marry her. She is of age, I suppose, and can +marry any one she likes." + +Mensmore puffed his cigarette in silence for fully a minute. Then he +said: + +"You are a very decent sort, Mr.--" + +"Bruce--Claude Bruce is my name." + +"Well, Mr. Bruce, you propose to hand me £10 for my railway fare, and, +say, £5 for my existence, until we meet again in London, in exchange for +which you purchase the rights in my life indefinitely, accidents and +reasonable wear and tear excepted." + +"Exactly!" + +"Make it £20, with five louis down, and I accept." + +"Why the stipulation?" + +"I want to back my dream. The number is twenty-three. It evidently was +not thirteen. I want to see that thing through. I will back the red +after twenty-three turns up, and if I lose I shall be quite satisfied." + +"What if I refuse?" + +"Then I don't care a bit what happens during the next seven days. After +that, _au revoir_, should we happen to meet across the divide. Please +make up your mind quickly. That run on the red may come and go while we +are sitting here." + +Bruce opened his pocket-book. "Here," he said with a smile, "I will give +you four hundred francs. You will reach the maximum more quickly if you +are right." + +Mensmore's face lit up with excitement. "By Jove, you are a brick," he +said. "So you really trust me?" + +"Yes." + +"Then give me back my revolver." + +Without a word, Bruce handed him the weapon. + +Mensmore extracted the cartridges and threw them into a clump of shrubs. + +"Come," he cried; "come with me to the Casino. You will see something. +This is not my own luck; it is borrowed. Come, quick!" + +They raced off, Bruce himself being more fired with the zest of the +thing than he cared to admit. Within the Casino all the tables were now +crowded, but Mensmore hurried to that at which he sat during his earlier +visit. + +"It was here that I played in my dream," he whispered, "soon after I +came to it." + +He edged through the onlookers, closely followed by Bruce. Neither cared +for the scowls and injured looks cast at them by the people whom they +forced out of the way. + +The Italian, the winner of half an hour ago, had come back like a moth +to the candle. Now he was getting his wings singed. At last, with a +groan, he hastily rose, but as a final effort flung the maximum, six +thousand francs, on the black. + +The disc whirled and slowly slackened pace, the ball rested in one of +the little squares, and the _croupier's_ monotonous words came: + +"_Vingt-trois_, _rouge_, _impair_, _et passe_!" + +Out bounced the Italian, and Mensmore seized his chair, turning to Bruce +with white face as he murmured: + +"You hear! Twenty-three!" + +The barrister nodded, and placed his hands on Mensmore's shoulders as +though to steady him. + +Mensmore staked his ten louis on the red. They became twenty, then +forty. Another whirl and they were eighty. A fourth made them one +hundred and sixty. + +Mensmore was now so agitated that the table and the players swam before +his eyes. But Bruce, under the stress of exciting circumstances, had the +gift of remaining preternaturally cool. + +At the fifth coup the sum to Mensmore's credit was £256. He would have +left it all on the table had not Bruce withdrawn £16 in notes, as the +maximum is £240. + +When Mensmore won the sixth and seventh coups a buzz of animated +interest passed around the board. People began to note the run on the +red, together with the fact that a man was staking the maximum each +time. Even the _croupiers_ cast fleeting glances at the new-comer, when, +several times in succession, the long rake pushed across the table the +little pile of money and notes. + +Thenceforth Mensmore sat in a state of stupor more pronounced now that +he was playing and awake than when he dreamt he was playing. + +Each time he mechanically staked the maximum and received back twice as +much, while the eager onlookers now burst into cries of wonder that +brought others running from all parts of the room. + +But Bruce did not lose count. + +When the red had turned up seventeen times, and the amount to Mensmore's +credit was £3,128, he shook the latter violently as he was about to +shove forward another maximum, and, of his own volition, placed the +money on the black. + +"_Douze_, _noir_, _pair et manque_," sang out the _croupier_, and Bruce +hissed into Mensmore's ear: + +"Get up at once." + +His strangely made acquaintance obeyed, gathered up his gold and notes, +fastened them securely in an inner pocket, and the pair quitted the +Casino amid extravagant protestations of good-will and friendship from +all the voluble foreigners present, having attracted not a little +attention from the less demonstrative Americans and English in the room. + +It was some time before the roulette tables began their orderly round +again, for Mensmore's sensational performance was in everybody's mouth. + +The highest recorded sum is twenty-three on the black, but a run of +eighteen on the red is sufficiently remarkable to keep Monte Carlo in +talk for a week. + +Albert Mensmore certainly could not complain that the events of the +particular evening were dull. For one hour at least he lived in the fire +that consumes, for he stepped back from the porch of dishonored death to +find himself the possessor of a sum more than sufficient for his +reasonable requirements. + +The pace was rapid and almost fatal. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +SOME GOOD RESOLUTIONS + + +Once safe in the seclusion of Claude's sitting-room Mensmore almost +collapsed. The strain had been a severe one, and now he had to pay the +penalty by way of reaction. + +The barrister forced him to swallow a stiff brandy and soda, and then +wished him to retire to rest, but the other protested with some show of +animation. + +"Let me talk, for goodness' sake!" he cried. "I cannot be alone. You +have seen me through a lot of trouble to-night. Stick to me for another +hour, there's a good fellow." + +"With pleasure. Perhaps it is the best thing you can do, after all. Let +us see how much you have won." + +Bruce made a calculation on a sheet of paper and said: "Exclusive of the +original stake of ten louis you ought to have £3,128." + +Mensmore pulled out of his pocket the crumpled bundle of notes and +bills. Claude's notes were among them, and he tossed them across the +table with a smile. + +"There's your capital. I will see if the total is all right before we go +shares." + +Claude nodded, and Mensmore began to jot down the items of his valuable +package. He bothered with the figures for some time but could not get +them right. Finally he tossed everything over to the other, saying: + +"No matter how I count, I can't get this calculation straight. Seventeen +coups, beginning with ten louis, work out at £3,128 all right enough. +But in this lot there is £3,368, and they don't pay twice at the +Casino." + +The barrister thought for a moment, and then laughed heartily. "I +remember now," he said; "I kept careful count of the series of +seventeen, or eighteen, to be exact. On my own account, as you were too +dazed to notice anything, I put a maximum on the black. Your dream +turned up trumps, as the series stopped and black won. Hence the odd +£240." + +"Then that is yours," said the other gravely. "I will take £1,128 to +square all my debts, and we go shares in the balance, a thousand each, +if you think that fair. If not I will gladly hand over the lot, after +paying my debts, I mean." + +Mensmore's seriousness impressed the barrister more than any other +incident of that dramatic evening. + +"You forget," he replied, "that I told you I had money in plenty for my +own needs. You must keep every farthing except my own £8, which you do +not now need. No. Please do not argue. I will consent to no other +course. This turn of Fortune's wheel should provide you with sufficient +capital to branch out earnestly in your career, whatever it be. I will +ask my interest in different manner." + +"I can never repay you, in gratitude, at any rate. And there is another +who will be thankful to you when she knows. Ask anything you like. Make +any stipulation you please. I agree to it." + +"It is a bargain. Sign this." + +Bruce took a sheet of notepaper, bearing the crest of the Hotel du +Cercle, dated it, and wrote: + + "I promise that, for the space of twelve months, I will not + make a bet of any sort, or gamble at any game of chance." + +When Mensmore read the document his face fell a little. "Won't you +except pigeon-shooting?" he said. "I am sure to beat that Russian next +time." + +"I can allow no exceptions." + +"But why limit me for twelve months?" + +"Because if in that time you do not gain sense enough to stop risking +your happiness, even your life, upon the turn of a card or the flight of +a bird, the sooner thereafter you shoot yourself the less trouble you +will bring upon those connected with you." + +"You are a rum chap," murmured Mensmore, "and you put matters pretty +straight, too. However, here goes. You don't bar me from entering for +sweepstakes." + +He signed the paper, and tossed it over to Bruce, while the latter did +not comment upon the limitation of his intentions imposed by Mensmore's +final sentence. The man undoubtedly was a good shot, and during his +residence in the Riviera he might pick up some valuable prizes. + +"And now," said the barrister, "may I ask as a friend to what use you +intend to put your newly found wealth?" + +"Oh, that is simple enough. I have to pay £500 which I lost in bets over +that beastly unlucky match. Then I have a splendid 'spec,' into which I +will now be able to place about £2,000--a thing which I have good reason +to believe will bring me in at least ten thou' within the year, and +there is nearly a thousand pounds to go on with. And all thanks to you." + +"Never mind thanking me. I am only too glad to have taken such a part in +the affair. I will not forget this night as long as I live." + +"Nor I. Just think of it. I might be lying in the gardens now, or in +some mortuary, with half my head blown off." + +"Tell me," said Bruce, between the contemplative puffs of a cigar, "what +induced you to think of suicide?" + +"It was a combination of circumstances," replied the other. "You must +understand that I was somewhat worried about financial and family +matters when I came to Monte Carlo. It was not to gamble, in a sense, +that I remained here. I have loafed about the world a good deal, but I +may honestly say I never made a fool of myself at cards or backing +horses. At most kinds of sport I am fairly proficient, and in +pigeon-shooting, which goes on here extensively, I am undoubtedly an +expert. For instance, all this season I have kept myself in funds simply +by means of these competitions." + +His hearer nodded approvingly. + +"Well, in the midst of my minor troubles, I must needs go and fall over +head and ears in love--a regular bad case. She is the first woman I ever +spoke two civil words to. We met at a picnic along the Corniche Road, +and she sat upon me so severely that I commenced to defend myself by +showing that I was not such a surly brute as I looked. By Jove, in a +week we were engaged." + +The barrister indulged in a judicial frown. + +"No. It's none of your silly, sentimental affairs in which people part +and meet months afterwards with polite inquiries after each other's +health. I am not made that way; neither is Phil--Phyllis is her name, +you know. This is for life. I am just bound up in her, and she would go +through fire and water for me. But she is rich, the only daughter of a +Midland iron-master with tons of money. Her people are awfully nice, and +I think they approve of me, though they have no idea that Phil and I +are engaged." + +He paused to gulp down a strong decoction of brandy and soda. The +difficult part of his story was coming. + +"You can quite believe," he continued, "that I did not want to ask her +father, Sir William Browne--he was knighted by the late Queen for his +distinguished municipal services--to give his daughter to a chap who +hadn't a cent. He supposes I am fairly well off, living as I do, and I +can't bear acting under false pretences. I hate it like poison, though +in this world a man often has to do what he doesn't like. However, this +time I determined to be straight and above board. It was a very odd +fact, but I just wanted £3000 to enable me to make a move which, I tell +you, ought to result in a very fair sum of money, sufficient, at any +rate, to render it a reasonable proposition for Phil and me to get +married." + +Claude was an appreciative listener. These love stories of real life are +often so much more dramatic than the fictions of the novel or the stage. + +"The opportunity came, to my mind, in this big tournament. I had no +difficulty of getting odds in six or seven to one to far more than I was +able to pay if I lost. Phil came into the scheme with me--she knows all +about me, you know--and we both regarded it as a certainty. Then the +collapse came. She wanted to get the money from her mother to enable me +to pay up, but I would not hear of it. I pretended that I could raise +the wind some other way. The fact is I was wild with myself and with my +luck generally. Then there was the disgrace of failing to settle on +Monday, combined with the general excitement of that dream and a +fearfully disturbed night. To make a long story short, I thought the +best thing to do was to try a final plunge, and if it failed, to quit. +I even took steps to make Phil believe I was a bad lot, so that she +might not fret too much after me." + +Mensmore's voice was a little unsteady in this last sentence. The +barrister tried to cheer him by a little bit of raillery: + +"I hope you have not succeeded too well?" he laughed. + +"Oh, it is all right now. I mean that I left her some papers which would +bring things to her knowledge that, unexplained by me, would give any +one a completely false impression." + +The subject was evidently a painful one, so Bruce did not pursue it. + +"About this speculation of yours," he said. "Are you sure it's all +right, and that you will not lose your money?" + +"It is as certain as any business can be. It is a matter I thoroughly +understand, but I will tell you all about it. If you will pardon me a +moment I will bring you the papers, as I should like to have your +advice, and it is early yet. You don't want to go to bed, I suppose?" + +"Not for hours." + +Mensmore rose, but before he reached the door a gentle tap heralded the +appearance of the hall-porter. + +"There is a letter for the gentleman. Monsieur is not in his room. He is +reported to be here, so I bring it." + +Mensmore took the note, read it with a smile and a growing flush, and +handed it to the barrister, saying: "Under the circumstances I think you +ought to see this. Isn't she a brick?" + +The tiny missive ran: + + "_Dearest One_,--You must forgive me, but we are both so + miserable about that wretched money that I told mother + everything. She likes you, and though she gave me a blowing up, + she has promised to give me £500 to-morrow. We can never thank + her sufficiently. Do come around and see me for a minute. I + will be in the verandah until eleven. + + "Ever yours, + "PHYLLIS." + +Claude returned the note. + +"Luck! you're the luckiest fellow in the South of France!" he said. +"Why, here's the mother plotting with the daughter on your behalf. Sir +William hasn't the ghost of a chance. Off you go to that blessed +verandah." + +When Mensmore had quitted the hotel Bruce descended to the bureau to +take up the threads of his neglected quest. The letter to Sydney H. +Corbett was still unclaimed, and he thought he was justified in +examining it. On the reverse of the envelope was the embossed stamp of +an electric-lighting company, so the contents were nothing more +important than a bill. + +An hour later Mensmore joined him in the billiard-room, radiant and +excited. + +"Great news," he said. "I squared everything with Lady Browne. Told her +I was only chaffing Phil about the five hundred, because she spoiled my +aim by shrieking out. Sir William has chartered a steam yacht to go for +a three weeks' cruise along the Gulf of Genoa and the Italian coast. +They have put him up to ask me in the morning to join the party. Great +Scott! what a night I'm having!" + +They parted soon afterwards, and next morning Bruce was informed that +his friend had gone out early, leaving word that he had been summoned to +breakfast at the Grand Hotel, where Sir William Browne was staying. + +During the afternoon Mensmore came to him like a whirlwind. "We're off +to-day," he said. "By the way, where shall I find you in London?" + +The barrister gave him his address, and Mensmore, handing him a card, +said, "My permanent address is given here, the Orleans Club, St. +James's. But I will look you up first. I shall be in town early in +March. And you?" + +"Oh, I shall be home much sooner. Good-bye, and don't let your good luck +spoil you." + +"No fear! Wait until you know Phyllis. She would keep any fellow all +right once he got his chance, as I have done. Good-bye, and--and--God +bless you!" + +During the next three days Bruce devoted himself sedulously to the +search for Corbett. He inquired in every possible and impossible place, +but the man had utterly vanished. + +Nor did he come to claim his letter at the Hotel du Cercle. It remained +stuck on the baize-covered board until it was covered with dust, and the +clerk of the bureau had grown weary of watching people who scrutinized +the receptacle for their correspondence. + +Others came and asked for Corbett--sharp-featured men with imperials and +long moustaches--the interest taken in the man was great, but +unrequited. He never appeared. + +At last the season ended, the hotel was closed, and the mysterious +letter was shot into the dustbin. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THEORIES + + +Bruce announced his departure from Monte Carlo by a telegram to his +valet. + +Nevertheless, he did not expect to find that useful adjunct to his +small household--Smith and his wife comprised the barrister's +_ménage_--standing on the platform at Charing Cross when the mail +train from the Continent steamed into the station. + +Smith, who had his doubts about this sudden trip to the Riviera, was +relieved when he saw his master was alone. "Sir Charles Dyke called this +afternoon, sir," he explained. "I told Sir Charles about your wire, sir, +and he is very anxious that you should dine with him to-night. You can +dress at Portman Square, and if I come with you--" + +"Yes; I understand. Bundle everything into a four-wheeler." + +"Sir Charles thought you might come, sir, so he sent his carriage." + +London looked dull but familiar as they rolled across Leicester Square +and up Regent Street. Your true Cockney knows that he is out of his +latitude when the sky is blue overhead. Let him hear the tinkle of the +hansoms' bells through a dim, fog-laden atmosphere, and he knows where +he is. There is but one London, and Cockneydom is the order of +Melchisedek. Claude's heart was glad within him to be home again, even +though the band was just gathering in the Casino gardens, and the lights +of Monaco were beginning to gleam over the moon-lit expanse of the +Mediterranean. + +At Wensley House the traveller was warmly welcomed by the baronet, who +seemed to have somewhat recovered his health and spirits. + +Nevertheless, Bruce was distressed to note the ineffaceable signs of the +suffering Sir Charles Dyke had undergone since the disappearance of his +wife. He had aged quite ten years in appearance. Deep lines of sorrowful +thought had indented his brow, his face was thinner, his eyes had +acquired a wistful look; his air was that of a man whose theory of life +had been forcibly reversed. + +At first both men fought shy of the topic uppermost in their minds, but +the after-dinner cigar brought the question to Dyke's lips: + +"And now, Claude, have you any further news concerning my +wife's--death?" + +The barrister noted the struggle before the final word came. The husband +had, then, resigned all hope. + +"I have none," he answered. "That is to say, I have nothing definite. I +promised to tell you everything I did, so I will keep my promise, but +you will, of course, differentiate between facts and theories?" + +The baronet nodded an agreement. + +"In the first place," said Bruce, "let me ask you whether or not you +have seen Jane Harding, the missing maid?" + +"Yes. It seems that she called here twice before she caught me at home. +At first she was very angry about a squabble there had been between +Thompson and herself. I refused to listen to it. Then she told me how +you had found her at some theatre, and she volunteered an explanation +of her extraordinary behavior. She said that she had unexpectedly +come into a large sum of money, and that it had turned her head. She +was sorry for the trouble her actions had caused, so, under the +circumstances, I allowed her to take away certain clothes and other +belongings she had left here." + +"Did she ask for these things?" + +"Yes. Made quite a point of it." + +"Did you see them?" + +"No." + +"So you do not know whether they were of any value, or the usual +collection of rubbish found in servants' boxes." + +"I have not the slightest notion." + +"Have they ever been thoroughly examined by any one?" + +"'Pon my honor, I believe not. Now that you remind me of it I think the +girl seemed rather anxious on that point. I remember my housekeeper +telling me that Harding had asked her if her clothes had been ransacked +by the detectives." + +"And what did the housekeeper say?" + +"She will tell you herself. Let us have her up." + +"Don't trouble her. If I remember aright the police did not examine Jane +Harding's room. They simply took your report and the statements of the +other servants, while the housekeeper was responsible for the partial +search made through the girl's boxes for some clue that might lead to +her discovery." + +"That is so." + +The barrister smoked in silence for a few minutes, until Sir Charles +broke out rather querulously: + +"I suppose I did wrong in letting Harding take her traps?" + +"No," said Bruce. "It is I who am to blame. There is something +underhanded about this young woman's conduct. The story about the sudden +wealth is all bunkum, in one sense. That she did receive a bequest or +gift of a considerable sum cannot be doubted. That she at once decided +to go on the stage is obvious. But what is the usual course for a +servant to pursue in such cases? Would she not have sought first to +glorify herself in the sight of her fellow-servants, and even of her +employers? Would there not have been the display of a splendid +departure--in a hansom--with voluble directions to the driver, for the +benefit of the footman? As it was, Jane Harding acted suddenly, +precipitately, under the stress of some powerful emotion. I cannot help +believing that her departure from this house had some connection, +however remote, with Lady Dyke's disappearance." + +"Good heavens, Claude, you never told me this before." + +"True, but when we last met I had not the pleasure of Miss Marie le +Marchant's acquaintance. I wish to goodness I had rummaged her boxes +before she carried them off." + +"And I sincerely echo your wish," said Sir Charles testily. "It always +seems, somehow, that I am to blame." + +"You must not take that view. I really wonder, Dyke, that you have not +closed up your town house and gone off to Scotland for the fag-end of +the shooting season. You won't hunt, I know, but a quiet life on the +moors would bring you right away from associations which must have +bitter memories for you." + +"I would have done so, but I cannot tear myself away while there is the +slightest chance of the mystery attending my wife's fate being +unravelled. I feel that I must remain here near you. You are the only +man who can solve the riddle, if it ever be solved. By the way, what of +Raleigh Mansions?" + +The baronet obviously nerved himself to ask the question. The reason was +patent. His wife's inexplicable visit to that locality was in some way +connected with her fate, and the common-sense view was that some +intrigue lay hidden behind the impenetrable wall of ignorance that +shrouded her final movements. + +Bruce hesitated for a moment. Was there any need to bring Mrs. Hillmer's +name into the business? At any rate, he could fully answer Sir Charles +without mentioning her at this juncture. + +"The only person in Raleigh Mansions who interests me just now is one +who, to use a convenient bull, is not there." + +"Yes?" + +"This person occupies a flat in No. 12, his name is Sydney H. Corbett, +and he left his residence for the Riviera two days after your wife was +lost." + +"Now, who on earth can _he_ be? I am as sure as a man may be of anything +that no one of that name was in the remotest way connected with either +my wife or myself for the last--let me see--six years, at any rate." + +"Possibly. But you cannot say that Lady Dyke may not have met him +previously?" + +The baronet winced at the allusion as though a whip had struck him. "For +heaven's sake, Claude," he cried, "do not harbor suspicions against her. +I cannot bear it. I tell you my whole soul revolts at the idea. I would +rather be suspected of having killed her myself than listen to a word +whispered against her good name." + +"I sympathize with you, but you must not jump at me in that fashion. One +hypothesis is as wildly impossible as the other. I did not say that Lady +Dyke went to Raleigh Mansions on account of some present or bygone +transgression of her own. I would as soon think of my mother in such a +connection. But a pure, good woman will often do on behalf of others +what she will not do for herself. Really, Dyke, you must not be unjust +to me, especially when you force me to tell you what may prove to be +mere theories." + +"Others? What others?" + +"I cannot say. I wish I could. If I once lay hold of the reason that +brought Lady Dyke to Raleigh Mansions, I will, within twenty-four hours, +tell you who murdered her. Of that I am as certain as that the sun will +rise to-morrow." + +And the barrister poked the fire viciously to give vent to the annoyance +that his friend's outburst had provoked. + +"Pardon me, Bruce. Do not forget how I have suffered--what I am +suffering--and try to bear with me. I never valued my wife while she +lived. It is only now that I feel the extent of my loss. If my own life +would only restore her to me for an instant I would cheerfully give it." + +If ever man meant his words this man did. His agitation moved the kindly +hearted barrister to rise and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. + +"I am sorry, Dyke," he said, "that the conversation has taken this turn. +These speculative guesses at potential clues distress you. If you took +my advice, you would not worry about events until at least something +tangible turns up." + +"Perhaps it is best so," murmured the other. "In any event, it is of +little consequence. I cannot live long." + +"Oh, nonsense. You are good for another fifty years. Come, shake off +this absurd depression. You can do no good by it. I wish now I had taken +you with me to Monte Carlo. The fresh air would have braced you up while +I hunted for Corbett." + +"Did you find him?" + +"No, but I dropped in for an adventure that would cheer the soul of any +depressed author searching vainly for an idea for a short story." + +"What was it?" + +Claude, who possessed no mean skill as a _raconteur_, gave him the +history of the Casino incident, and the thrilling _dénouement_ so +interested the baronet that he lit another cigar. + +"Did you ascertain the names of the parties?" he said. + +"Oh yes. You will respect their identity, as the sensational side of the +affair had better now be buried in oblivion, though, of course, all the +world knows about the way we scooped the bank. The lady is a daughter of +Sir William Browne, a worthy knight from Warwickshire, and her rather +rapid swain is a youngster named Mensmore." + +"Mensmore!" shouted the baronet. "A youngster, you say?" and Sir Charles +bounced upright in his excitement. + +"Why, yes, a man of twenty-five. No more than twenty-eight, I can swear. +Do you know him?" + +"Albert Mensmore?" + +"That's the man beyond doubt." + +Dyke hastily poured out some whiskey and water and swallowed it. Then he +spoke, with a faint smile: "You didn't know, Bruce," he said, "that you +vividly described the attempted self-murder of a man I know intimately." + +"What an extraordinary thing! Yet I never remember hearing you mention +his name." + +"Probably not. I have hardly seen him since my marriage. We were +schoolboys together, though I was so much his senior that we did not +chum together until later, when we met a good deal on the turf. Then he +went off, roughing it in the States. It must be he. It is just one of +his pranks. And he is going to marry, eh? Is she a nice girl?" + +The baronet was thoroughly excited. He talked fast, and helped himself +liberally to stimulants. + +"Yes, unusually so. But I cannot help marvelling at this coincidence. It +has upset you." + +"Not a bit. I was interested in your yarn, and naturally I was +unprepared for the startling fact that an old friend of mine filled the +chief part. What a fellow you are, Claude, for always turning up at the +right time. I have never been in a tight place personally, but if I were +I suppose you would come along and show me the way out. Sit down again +and give me all the details. I am full of curiosity." + +Bruce had never before seen Sir Charles in such a hysterical mood. The +anguish of the past three months had changed the careless, jovial +baronet into a fretful, wayward being, who had lost control of his +emotions. Undoubtedly he required some powerful tonic. The barrister +resolved to see more of him in the future, and not to cease urging him +until he had started on a long sea voyage, or taken up some hobby that +would keep his mind from brooding upon the everlasting topic of his +wife's strange death. + +Dyke's fitful disposition manifested itself later. After he had listened +with keen attention to all that Bruce had told him concerning Mensmore +and Phyllis Browne, he suddenly swerved back to the one engrossing +thought. + +"What are you going to do about Corbett?" he asked. + +"Find him." + +"But how?" + +"People are always tied to a centre by a string, and no matter how long +the string may be, it contracts sooner or later. Corbett will turn up at +Raleigh Mansions, and before very many weeks have passed, if I mistake +not." + +"And then?" + +"Then he will have to answer me a few pertinent questions." + +"But suppose he knows nothing whatever about the business?" + +"In that case I must confess the clue is more tangled than ever." + +"It would be curious if Corbett and Jane Harding were in any way +associated." + +"If they were, it would take much to convince me that one or both could +not supply at least some important information bearing on my--on our +quest. If Mr. White even knew as much as I do about them he would arrest +them at sight." + +"Oh, he's a thick-headed chap, is White. By the way, that reminds me. He +got hold of the maid, it seems, before she had bolted, and made her give +him some of my wife's clothes. By that means he established some sort of +a theory about--" + +"About a matter on which we differ," put in Bruce quietly. "Let us talk +of something else." + +The other moved restlessly in his chair, but yielded. For the remainder +of the evening they discussed questions irrelevant to the course of this +narrative. + +It was late when they separated, but Bruce found Smith sitting up for +him at home. + +That faithful servitor bustled about, stirring the fire and turning up +the lights. Finally he nervously addressed his master: + +"Pardon me, sir, but there was a policeman here asking about you +to-night, sir." + +"A policeman!" + +"Well, sir, a detective--Mr. White, of Scotland Yard. I knew him, sir, +though he did not think it. He came about ten o'clock, and asked where +you were." + +"Did you tell him?" + +"Well, sir," and Smith shifted from one foot to the other, "I thought it +best to let him know the truth, sir." + +"Good gracious, Smith, he is not going to handcuff me. You did quite +right. What did he say?" + +"Nothing, sir; except that he would call again. He wouldn't leave his +name, but I know'd him all right." + +"Thank you. Good-night. It was unnecessary that you should have remained +up. But I am obliged to you all the same." + +The barrister laughed as he went to his room. "Really," he said to +himself, still highly amused, "White will cap all his previous feats by +trying to arrest me. I suspect he has thought of it for a long time." + +And Mr. White _had_ thought of it. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +WHO CORBETT WAS + + +"Inexorable Fate!" is a favorite phrase with the makers of books; but +Fate, being feminine according to the best authorities, is also somewhat +fickle in disposition. Not only is she not invariably inexorable, but at +times she delights to play with her poor subjects, to dazzle them with +surprise, as it were, to stupefy them with the sense of their sheer +inability to foresee or understand her vagaries. + +It was Bruce's turn to receive the sharpest lesson in this respect that +he ever remembered. + +At breakfast the next morning he selected from a packet of unimportant +letters one which required immediate attention. The financiers to whom +he had written in conformity with his implied promise to Mr. Dodge had +replied favorably with reference to the reconstruction of the Springbok +Mine. + +They informed Bruce confidentially that a thoroughly reliable man in +Johannesburg, to whom they had cabled, reported very strongly in favor +of the property. They would await his written statement before finally +committing themselves. Meanwhile, if Messrs. Dodge, Son & Co. (Limited) +were anxious to get the business advanced a stage, there was no reason +why he (Bruce) should not assure them that, subject to the first +satisfactory report being confirmed, his clients would underwrite the +shares. The whole thing would thus go through in about three weeks. As +for Bruce himself, they proposed to give him a commission of five per +cent in fully paid shares for the introduction. + +"Well, I never!" he laughed. "Now who would have thought such a thing +possible? Why, if that rascal Dodge is right and this company is really +a sound undertaking, my share of the deal will be £10,000. It seems +wildly incredible, yet my friends know what they are writing about as a +rule." + +An hour later he was in the city. + +A smart brougham stood in front of the now thoroughly renovated offices +of Dodge, Son & Co. (Limited), and out of it, at the moment the +barrister detached himself from the chaos of Leadenhall Street, stepped +the head of the firm. + +He was making up the steps when Claude cried: + +"Hello, Mr. Dodge, how is the junior partner?" + +Dodge stopped, focussed Bruce with his sharp eyes, and smiled: + +"Oh, it is you, is it? The young 'un is all right, thanks. Are you +coming in?" + +"That was my intention." + +"Come along then. I was hoping I would see you one of these days." + +"Has business improved recently?" inquired Bruce, as they entered the +inner office. + +"Yes, somewhat; but money is very tight still. However, we generally +look for a spurt early in the New Year. Why do you ask?" + +"No valid reason. A mere hazard." + +"Was it because you saw me drive up in a carriage?" + +"Mr. Dodge, I never dreamt that self-consciousness was a failing of the +members of the Stock Exchange." + +"Then that _was_ the cause. I guessed it. I have been making inquiries +about you, Mr. Bruce, and there is no use in trying to fool you, not a +bit." + +"Have you another Springbok proposition on hand?" + +"No; bar chaffing. You were the man who ferreted out the truth about +that West Australian combination when everybody else had failed. And, +now I think of it, you made me talk a lot the last time you were here. +However, I am ready. Fire away! I will tell you the truth, the whole +truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me--" + +"Sh-s-sh! Do not perjure yourself for the sake of alliteration. Besides, +it is I who have come to talk this time." + +"About Springboks?" + +"Yes. The people I mentioned to you at my previous visit are prepared to +underwrite the shares, provided that their agent's report is as +favorable in its entirety as a telegraphic summary leads them to +believe." + +"Eh? That's good news! When will they be in a position to complete?" + +"As soon as they hear from South Africa by post. Say three weeks." + +"So long! But suppose I get an offer from some other quarter in the +meantime? I cannot keep the proposal open indefinitely." + +"I have not asked you to do so, Mr. Dodge. Let me see--three shillings +per share on, say, two hundred thousand shares is £30,000. It is a good +deal of money. If any one likes to hand you a cheque for that amount +without preliminary investigation, take it by all means." + +The notion tickled Dodge immensely. + +"All right, Mr. Bruce. When people of that sort turn up we don't sell +'em Springboks in the City. But there is no harm in you telling me your +clients' names." + +"Not in the least. They are the Anglo-African Finance Corporation." + +Mr. Dodge whistled. "By Jove, they're the best backing I could have. +This is a good turn, Mr. Bruce, and I shan't forget it. You see, we're a +young firm, and association with well-known houses is good for us in +every sense. I'm jolly glad now that Springboks are all right. It would +never have done for me to introduce them to a risky piece of business. I +am really much obliged to you. And now, how do we stand?" + +"Kindly explain." + +"How much 'com' do you want?" + +"Nothing." + +Mr. Dodge moved his chair backward several feet in sheer amazement. +"Nothing, my dear sir! Nonsense! It is a big affair. Shall we say one +per cent in cash, or two in shares. I am not very well off just now, +or--" + +"Pray don't trouble yourself. I have already secured my commission--five +per cent in fully paid shares." + +"But the people who put up the money don't pay for the privilege as a +rule." + +"That I know quite well. This case is different. I am not, nor ever have +been, a financial go-between." + +"Didn't you come to see me about the deal in the first instance?" + +It was Bruce's turn to hesitate. + +"Not exactly," he said. "I really wanted to know something about Mr. +Corbett, and the Springbok business arose out of it." + +"Ah, that chap Corbett. I have been thinking about him. I wonder who he +can be? Anyhow, I owe him my best wishes, as the mention of his name +has had such excellent results." + +"Well, that is all," said Bruce rising. + +"Yes, thanks. I must now see about raising the money to pay my own call. +I am interested in fifty thousand shares, you know." + +"Then you require some £7,500?" + +"Yes. But that will be easy when I can say that the Anglo-African +Finance people are with me. Besides, this morning--queer you should call +immediately afterwards--I have had some wholly unexpected news." + +"Indeed?" Mr. Dodge was in a talkative vein, and Bruce was in no hurry. + +"The very best!" went on Dodge gleefully. "You see, there is another man +in this affair with me. I thought he was as stony-broke as I am +myself--speaking confidentially, you know--when he suddenly writes to me +saying that he had won a pot of money at Monte Carlo and could spare me +£2,000. What's the matter? Beastly trying weather, isn't it? Try a nip +of brandy." + +For once in his life the self-possessed barrister had blanched at a +sudden revelation. But this was too much. He felt as though a meteorite +had fallen on his head. Nevertheless, he grappled with the situation. + +"Ill! No!" he cried. "How stupid of me. I have forgotten my morning +smoke. May I light a cigar?" + +"With pleasure. You know these. Try one." + +"You were saying--" + +"That's all. This young fellow, Mensmore his name is, got mixed up with +me over a Californian mine. I thought he had lots of coin, so when +Springboks came along he and I went shares in underwriting them. The +public didn't feed, so we were loaded. I tried all I knew to get him to +pay up, but he absolutely couldn't. And now at the very moment affairs +look promising he writes offering £2,000. More than that, he says, if +necessary, he can get the remainder of his half, £1750, from somebody. +Where is his letter?" + +Mr. Dodge looked on his table. "Oh, here it is. Addressed from 'Yacht +_White Heather_,' if you please. Quite swell, eh? Sir William Browne! +That's the covey. I think I will let Sir William have 'em. It's a good, +solid sort of name to have on the share register." + +"I would if I were you," said Bruce, hardly conscious of his +surroundings. + +"If _you_ think so, I will. By Jove, this has been a good morning for +me. Come and have lunch." + +"No, thanks. I have a lot to attend to. By the way, where did Mensmore +live?" + +"I don't know. His address was always at the Orleans Club." + +Somehow, Bruce reached the street and a hansom. As the vehicle rolled +off westward he crouched in a corner and tried to wrestle with the +problem that befogged his brain. + +Was Albert Mensmore Sydney H. Corbett? Was he Mrs. Hillmer's brother? +The "Bertie" she had spoken of meant Albert as well as a hypothetical +Herbert. Mensmore was an old schoolfellow of Sir Charles Dyke's. In all +probability he knew Lady Dyke as well. He lived in Raleigh Mansions +under an assumed name, and quitted his abode two days after the murder. + +Every circumstance pointed to the terrible assumption that at Mensmore's +hands the unfortunate lady met her death. And Bruce had sworn to avenge +her memory! + +He laughed with savage mirth as he reflected that he himself had helped +this man to escape the punishment of Providence, self-inflicted. It was, +indeed, pitifully amusing to think how the clever detective had used his +powers to befool himself. The very openness of the clue had helped to +conceal it the more effectually. Were it not for Dodge and his +Springboks he might have gone on indefinitely covering up the criminal's +tracks by his own friendly actions. The situation was maddening, +intolerable. Bruce wanted to seize the reins and flog the horse into a +mad gallop through the traffic as a relief to his feelings. + +Blissfully unconscious of the living volcano he carried within, the +cabby on the perch did not indulge in any such illegal antics. He +quietly drove along the Embankment and delivered his seething fare at +his Victoria-street chambers. + +Quite oblivious of commonplace affairs, the barrister threw a shilling +to the driver and darted out. + +The man gazed at his Majesty's image with the air of one who had never +before seen such a coin. It might have been a Greek obolus, so utter was +his blank astonishment. + +But Bruce was across the pavement, and cabby had to find words, else it +would be too late. + +"Here guv'nor," he yelled, "what the ballyhooley do you call this?" + +"What's the matter?" was the impatient query. + +"Matter!" The cabman looked towards the sky to see if the heavens were +falling. "Matter!" in a higher key, as a crowd began to gather. "I tykes +him from Leaden'all Street to Victoria. 'E gives me a bob, an' 'e arsks +me wot's the matter. I'd been on the ranks four bloomin' hours--" + +"Oh, there you are!" and Bruce threw him half-a-crown before he +disappeared up the steps. + +Mr. White was watching for Bruce's arrival. He wondered why the +barrister was so perturbed, and resolved to strike while the iron was +hot. So he, too, vanished into the interior. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A QUESTION OF PRINCIPLE + + +"If any one calls, I am out," cried Claude to his factotum, as he +crossed the entrance-hall of his well-appointed flat, and flung open the +door of his library. + +"The guv'nor's in a tantrum," observed Smith to his wife, and he settled +himself to renew the perusal of Grand National training reports. He had +just noticed the interesting fact that last year's winner had "jumped in +for the last mile" in a gallop given to a rank outsider, when the +electric bell upset his calculations. + +"My master is out," he said, as he opened the door to find Mr. White +standing on the mat. + +He was about to close the door again, but the detective planted his foot +against the jamb. + +"Your master is not out," he answered. "I saw him come in a minute +since. Tell him Mr. White wants to see him." + +Smith's dignity was superb. "My master may be hin," he cried, "but 'e +told me to say 'e was hout to callers." The aspirates supplied emphasis. + +"Tell him what I say at once," and Mr. White gave him his best +"accessory-after-the-crime" glance. + +"I don't see why I should," snarled Smith, but the squabble ended when +Bruce's voice was heard-- + +"Show him in, Smith, but admit nobody else." + +With an air of armed neutrality Smith ushered the representative of +Scotland Yard into the library. + +"You're not looking very well, sir," said White, his round eyes fixed on +Bruce with all their power. + +"Was it to ask about my health that you came?" + +"No, sir, not exactly. But I haven't seen you for quite a while, and as +we are both interested in the same matter I thought I would look you up +and compare notes." + +Bruce was annoyed by the interruption. He wanted to think, not to be +bothered by official theories. He looked hard at Mr. White, wondering +whether he should tell him all he knew and wash his own hands clear of +the investigation in future. But there was a second picture before his +eyes. He saw Phyllis Browne's face, not as it was that day at the Tir +aux Pigeons, but with the light of happiness in it, with the joyousness +of requited and undisturbed love, with the glow reflected from dancing +waves, and the tremulous smile of innocent pleasure. + +It was hard to believe that such a woman could place her heartfelt trust +in a man who was possibly a cold-blooded murderer. Such a combination +was unnatural and horrible. Already Bruce was beginning to doubt the +evidence of his analytical senses. + +Mr. White meanwhile flattered himself by the thought that the other was +trying to read his thoughts by looking at him fixedly. + +"I have been away from home," said Bruce at last. "I had occasion to go +to the South of France." + +"I thought so. I was sure of it. How do you manage always to get ahead +of us?" Mr. White was enthusiastic in his admiring divination. + +"You have heard about Sydney H. Corbett?" said the barrister, still +keeping that inscrutable, calculating gaze upon the policeman. + +"Yes. I am on his track. We may be slow, but we are sure in Scotland +Yard. May I ask what luck you have had, sir?" + +"In what respect?" + +"As if you didn't go to Monte Carlo to find Corbett yourself! Really, +Mr. Bruce, the scent is too hot this time. You might as well give a +'View halloa' if you have seen him." + +"Seen Sydney H. Corbett, you mean?" + +"That is the gentleman." + +For an instant Mensmore's future trembled in the balance. Bruce almost +framed the words which would have led to his immediate arrest at the +next port touched by the _White Heather_. But the memory of Phyllis +Browne, of her agony, of the fearful scandal that must fly through +Society on the Riviera, restrained him. There was no hurry. He must have +time to think. + +"I certainly went to Monte Carlo to discover the identity of that +interesting personage, but I came back, Mr. White, as wise as I went. +The only trace I found of him was an undelivered letter awaiting him at +the Hotel du Cercle." + +"A letter! Wasn't he there?" Mr. White's face, notwithstanding its +official decorum, betrayed its disappointment. This was an unlooked-for +check. + +"He had been there. Other letters came for him earlier, and he had +received them." + +"But the hotel people--" + +"Did not know him. In fact, there cannot be the slightest doubt that Mr. +Corbett concealed his identity at Monte Carlo under another name." + +"It doesn't matter much," growled the detective. "We will nab him all +the same, if he had fifty names." + +"Possibly. But it is wonderful how a man may be under your very nose, +and yet you may miss him." + +During the next few minutes neither man spoke. Bruce smiled cynically +at the thought that he was actually shielding Lady Alice's probable +slayer from the minions of the law. He marvelled at himself for his +irresolution. Nevertheless, he would wait. Mensmore could not escape him +now. Perhaps the business might be managed without the dramatic features +which would accompany an immediate arrest. And there were some things +that required explanation. If his Monte Carlo acquaintance really killed +Lady Dyke, then he was the strangest criminal whom Bruce had ever +encountered during the course of his varied career. + +The policeman misinterpreted his expression. + +"You can't laugh at us this time, Mr. Bruce," he cried. "Scotland Yard +and yourself evolved the same theory, eh? And we can't fly off to the +South of France as readily as you." + +"Your skill is profound, no doubt. Indeed, I wonder at it, considering +the mysterious way in which the missing man left his address at the +post-office." + +The other reddened. "That was simple enough, I know; but we were on his +track before that." + +"By watching me when I visited his sister." + +"You saw me outside the Jollity Theatre, then?" + +"Of course. What did you expect?" + +Mr. White recovered his placidity. "There's no use quarrelling about +it," he laughed. "I did get that wrinkle from you. But how on earth were +we to know what to do, when there were seventy-one flats occupied by +respectable people, and one closed for months, the caretaker told us." + +"I hope you have ceased your surveillance so far as I am concerned." + +"Honor bright, sir. I won't do it again. Besides, we must lay hands on +Corbett sooner or later." + +"What steps are you taking?" + +"The Monte Carlo police are making inquiries. They have his description. +It has also gone to America." + +"Why America?" + +"Because he spent some time there. He only returned from the States +early last year. His sister has not seen him for years, and a rare old +row they had when he turned up. He had not much money, so she helped +him, and he settled down for a time in the same mansions as herself." + +"Who told you all this?" + +"Mrs. Hillmer, and a precious lot of trouble she gave me. She is a +clever woman that." + +"It was rather too bad to pester her about it, poor lady." + +"I only followed your lead, sir." + +This was so true that Claude changed the conversation. + +"What sort of man is Corbett? Have you his description?" + +"Yes. Here it is." Mr. White produced a copy of the _Police Gazette_, a +publication never seen by the public, but of a large circulation among +the police of the United Kingdom. The details were fairly accurate as to +Mensmore's personal appearance, but there was no photograph. Oddly +enough, Bruce was pleased on noting this serious deficiency. + +"You did not secure his picture?" + +"No. Mrs. Hillmer declared that she had not a single photograph of her +brother in her possession." + +"Did she--tell you his real name?" the barrister had almost said, but he +deflected the question. "Did she give you any hint as to a possible +cause for this apparently unnecessary crime?" + +"Not a word." + +"Then you did not mention Lady Dyke to her?" + +"No. Sir Charles has always implored me to keep his wife's name out of +my inquiries until it became absolutely impossible to conceal it in view +of a public prosecution. He wants to know definitely when that time +comes." + +"Why?" + +The detective did not reply for a moment. When he spoke he leaned +forward and subdued his voice. "I am as sure as I am sitting here, sir, +that Sir Charles will not live if any disgrace should come to be +attached to his wife's memory." + +"Do you mean that he will kill himself?" + +"I do. He has changed a great deal since this affair happened. He is not +the same man. He appears to be always mooning about her. And people say +that they were not so devoted to one another when she was alive." + +Again did the barrister switch off their talk from an unpleasant topic. + +"This description of Corbett is not much use," he said. "It applies to +every athletic young Englishman of good physique and gentlemanly +appearance." + +"Quite true. I don't depend on that for his arrest, but it will be +valuable for identification. 'Blue eyes, light brown hair, fresh, clear +complexion, well-modelled nose and chin.' Some of these things can be +changed by tricks, but not all. For instance, there would be no use in +smoking a man with black eyes and irregular features." + +"'Smoking' him?" + +"Oh, that's our way of putting it. Following him, it means." + +"Suppose the French police don't succeed in catching him?" + +"We will get him at Raleigh Mansions. He is sure to think that Lady +Dyke's fate has never been determined, and he will return when the +inquiry has blown over, to all appearance." + +"You have quite made up your mind, then, that Sydney H. Corbett is the +murderer?" + +"It looks uncommonly like it. At any rate, he knows something about it. +If not, why did he bolt to France two days after the crime? Why has he +concealed his identity? Why does he take pains to receive his +correspondence in the manner he has adopted? And, by Jove! suppose he +isn't in Monte Carlo at all, but in London all the time!" + +The inspector glowed with his sudden inspiration, but Bruce kept him to +the lower level of realities. + +"Corbett is, or was, in Monte Carlo. Of that you may be sure. He, and +none other, got the letters sent to the Hotel du Cercle. I cannot for +the life of me imagine why he did not take the last one. But let us look +at what we know. Lady Dyke, we will say, went to Corbett's chambers, +secretly and of her own accord. That may be taken as fairly established. +Thence there is a blank in our intelligence until she appears as a +hardly recognizable corpse, stuffed by hands beneath an old drain-pipe +in the Thames at Putney. How do you fill up that gap, Mr. White?" + +"Simply enough. Corbett, or some other person, persuaded her to +voluntarily accompany him to Putney. She was killed there, and not in +London. It would be almost a matter of impossibility for any man to have +conveyed her lifeless body from Raleigh Mansions to Putney without +attracting some notice. One man could _not_ do it. Several might, but it +is madness to imagine that a number of people would join together for +the purpose of killing this poor lady." + +"The seemingly impossible is often accomplished." + +"Do you really believe, then, that she met her death in London?" + +"I have quite an open mind on the question." + +"You forget that she had resolved early that day to visit her sister at +Richmond, and Putney is on the direct road. What more reasonable than to +assume--" + +"Beware of assumptions! You are assuming all the time that Corbett was a +principal in her murder." + +"Very well, Mr. Bruce. Then I ask you straight out if you don't agree +with me?" + +"I do not." + +This declaration astounded the barrister himself. Often the mere +utterance of one's thoughts is a surprise. Speech seems to stiffen the +wavering outlines of reflection, and the new creation may differ +essentially from its embryo. It was so with Bruce in this instance. + +Ever since Mr. White's arrival had aroused him from the positive stupor +caused by the stock-broker's unwitting revelation, Claude Bruce had been +slowly but definitely deciding that Mensmore did not kill Lady Dyke. He +had seen him, unprepared, facing death as preferable to dishonor. At +such moments a man's soul is laid bare. With the shadow of a crime upon +his conscience Mensmore's actions could not have been so genuine and +straightforward as they undoubtedly were. + +Mensmore, of course, might in some way be bound up with the mystery +surrounding Lady Dyke's movements. His very utterance in Bruce's room +at the Hotel du Cercle implied as much. That was another matter. It +would receive his (Bruce's) most earnest attention. But the major +hypothesis, so quickly jumped at by the police, needed much more +substantiation than it had yet obtained. + +That it was plausible was demonstrated by the barrister's readiness to +adopt it at the outset. Even now that his impulse to fasten the crime on +Mensmore had weakened he wondered at his eagerness to defend him. + +The detective was even more surprised. + +"I don't see how you can take that view," he cried. "Corbett's behavior +is, to say the least, unaccountable. If he is an innocent man, then he +must be a foolish one. Besides, why should he necessarily be innocent? +This is the first gleam of light we have had in a very dark business, +and I mean to follow it up." + +The vindictive emphasis of his tone showed that the detective was +annoyed at the other's impassive attitude. He even went so far as to +dimly evolve a theory that the barrister wished to throw him off +Corbett's trail on account of his sympathy for Mrs. Hillmer, but Claude +rapidly dispelled this notion. + +"You are here, I suppose, to ask my advice in pursuance of our +understanding that we are working together in the matter, as it were?" +he said. + +"Well, something of the kind, sir." + +"Then I recommend that we see the inside of that closed flat in Raleigh +Mansions at the earliest moment." + +"Do you mean by a search warrant?" + +"Certainly not. Do you want the whole neighborhood to know of it? You +have probably heard of locks being picked before to-day. You and I, and +none other, must have a quiet look around the place without anyone +being the wiser." + +Mr. White hesitated, but the prospect was attractive. "I think I can +manage it," he said, smiling reflectively. "Will six this evening suit?" + +"Admirably." + +"Then I will call for you." + +After a parting glance at Smith, who returned it, nose in air, the +inspector ran down the stairs, murmuring, "Blest if I can understand Mr. +Bruce. But this is a good move. We may learn something." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +NO 12 RALEIGH MANSIONS + + +When the door of Corbett's or Mensmore's flat swung open before the +skilful application of a skeleton key, a gust of cold air swept from the +interior blackness, and whirled an accumulation of dust down the stairs. + +It is curious how a disused house seems to bottle up, as it were, an +atmospheric accumulation which always seeks to escape at the first +available moment. Emptiness is more than a mere word; it has life and +the power of growth. A residence closed for a week is less depressing +than if it has not been inhabited for a month. If the period of neglect +be lengthened into a year, the sense of dreariness is magnified +immeasurably. + +In this instance, the mysterious abode might have been the abiding-place +of disembodied spirits, so cold was its aspect, so uninviting the dim +vista that sprung into uncertain vision under the flickering rays of a +wax vesta struck by the detectives. + +But neither the policeman nor his companion was a nervous subject. + +They entered at once, closed the door by its latch, and, aided by other +matches, found the switch of the electric light. + +In this brighter radiance the indefinable vanished. The flat became a +cosy, fairly well appointed bachelor's "diggings," neglected and +untidy, yet not without a semblance of comfort, which only needed the +presence of a sturdy housemaid and a fire to be converted into the +ordinary chambers with which the locality abounds. + +Their first care was to draw down all the blinds, the neglect of which +housewifely proceeding argued the careless departure of a mere male when +the place was vacated. + +A rapid preliminary survey followed, and drew from Bruce the remark: + +"Furnished by a woman, but occupied by a man." + +Mr. White agreed, but he didn't know why, so he put a tentative question +on the point. + +"Don't you see," said Bruce, "that the carpets match the upholstery of +the furniture, that the beds have valances, that the spare bedroom for a +guest is even more elaborate than that used by the tenant, that care has +been taken in fitting up the kitchen, and taste displayed in the +selection of pieces of bric-a-brac? Only a woman attends to these +things. On the other hand, a card tray has been used as a receptacle for +a cigar ash, the pictures--no woman ever buys a picture--have been +picked up promiscuously from shops where they sell sporting prints, and +the sides of the mantelpieces are chipped by having feet propped against +them. There are plenty of other signs, but these suffice." + +Thenceforth the two men devoted themselves to their task, each after his +kind. + +The representative of Scotland Yard hunted for documents, photographs, +torn envelopes; he looked at the covers of books to see if they were +inscribed; he opened every drawer, ransacked every corner, peered into +the interior of jars, pots, and ovens; appraised the value of furniture, +noted its age, and was specially zealous in studying the appearance of +the only bedroom which had been occupied so far as he could judge. + +Bruce, having given a casual glance around, entered the sitting-room, +selected the most comfortable chair, and proceeded to envelope himself +in smoke. + +He had not spent two minutes in Mensmore's flat before he made a +striking discovery. + +The dwelling consisted of a central passage, dividing two equal portions +from the other. That on the right contained a drawing-room and a large +bedroom, with dressing-room attached. On the left were another bedroom, +a dining-room, a kitchen, and a store-room. At the end of the passage, +which terminated in the transverse corridor, were the bathroom, a +pantry, and a small room, empty now, but apparently designed for a +servant's bedroom. + +The furniture, as has been stated, was good in quality and sufficient +for its purposes. But the fact which immediately impressed this skilled +observer was that the arrangement of the sitting-room differed +essentially from the other details of the flat. + +The same care had not been taken in the disposition of the articles. +They had been dumped down anyhow, without taste or regard for suitable +position. The carpet had not been bought for this special apartment like +the carpets elsewhere. A handsome ebony cabinet stood in the wrong +place. The blue china ornaments obviously intended to fill its shelves +were littered about the mantelpiece or on small tables, while the +Satsuma ware meant for the over-mantel was stiffly disposed on the +cabinet. + +Small matters these, but Bruce thought them more fruitful of accurate +theory than the detective's hunt for a written history of the crime! + +So, as he smoked, he mused and examined. + +"The drawing-room was the last place to be furnished," he thought. "The +usual course. It remained empty for some time probably. The rest of the +flat was arranged by a woman--Mrs. Hillmer in all likelihood--before the +arrival of her brother. Then he came and tackled the vacant room. The +history of the place is as plain as though I were present. More than +that, a woman--Mrs. Hillmer again, let us say--fixed upon these latter +purchases, but without measurements. She did not personally see to their +adaptability, and she certainly did not supervise their final +arrangement. Now, why was that? Again, these things are more worn than +those in the other rooms. Were they bought second-hand? If so, why? A +woman thinks most of her drawing-room. It is the last place in which she +would economize." + +Mr. White entered, anxious and puzzled. + +"Found anything?" inquired Claude, without looking at him. + +"Not a rag, not a piece of old newspaper with a date on it. A lot of +papers were burned in the kitchen grate, but from the remnants I judge +that they were mostly bills." + +"The place has been systematically cleared, eh?" + +"It looks like it." + +"Going to hunt here?" + +"Yes. You don't seem to take much interest in the premises, Mr. Bruce, +though you persuaded me to do a bit of house-breaking in order to get +here." + +"I find the quietude good for thought, Mr. White. Be good enough not to +make more noise than is absolutely necessary." + +The other sniffed. He was disappointed. He hoped for something tangible +from this visit, and the outlook was far from promising. + +"This room appears to have been lived in a good deal," he growled. + +"That is one way of looking at it." + +"Is there any other way?" His voice snapped out the question as if he +held the barrister personally responsible for his failure to gain a +clue. + +"No, Mr. White, I should have guessed your point of view exactly." + +"My point of view, indeed! Do you want me to draw up another chair and +light a pipe? Should we be enlightened by tobacco smoke?" + +"I cannot trust your tobacco. Try a cigar." + +The detective angrily thumped a Chesterfield lounge to see if it +betrayed aught suspicious. + +At that instant Bruce's glance rested on the fireplace. The grate +contained the ashes of a fire,--a fire not long lighted. This, combined +with the undrawn blinds, argued a departure early in the morning. + +"He went to Monte Carlo by the day Channel service," mused Bruce. "He +may have departed a few hours after Lady Dyke's death, as Mrs. Hillmer +was not certain as to the exact date." + +Somehow the few cinders attracted him. They had, perchance, witnessed a +tragedy. + +Suddenly he stopped smoking. He was so startled by something he had seen +that the policeman must have noticed his agitation were not the +detective at that instant intently screwing his eyes to peer behind the +back of the elaborate cabinet. + +On the hearth was a handsome Venetian fender. Into each end was +loosely socketed a beautifully moulded piece of ironwork to hold the +fire-irons. That on the left was whole, but from that on the right a +small spike had been broken off. + +By comparison with its fellow the missing portion was identical with the +bit of iron found imbedded in the skull of the murdered woman. Of this +damning fact Bruce had no manner of doubt, though the incriminatory +article itself was then locked in a drawer in his own residence. + +He did not move. He sat as one transfixed. + +What a weapon for such a deed! Was ever more outlandish instrument used +with murderous intent? The entire bracket could easily be detached from +the fender, and would, no doubt, inflict a terrible blow. But why seize +this clumsy device when it actually supported a heavy brass poker? + +The thing savored of madness, of the wild vagary of a homicidal maniac. +It was incomprehensible, strange beyond belief. + +Yet as Bruce pictured the final scene in that tragedy, as he saw the +ill-fated lady stagger helplessly to the ground before a treacherous and +crushing stroke, a fierce light leaped into his face, and his lips set +tight with unflinching purpose. + +Had Mensmore been within reach at that moment he would assuredly have +been lodged in a felon's cell forthwith. No excuse, no palliation, would +be accepted. The man who could so foully slay a gentle, kindly, +high-minded woman deserved the utmost rigor of the law, no matter what +the circumstances that led to the commission of the crime. + +It was not often that Bruce allowed impulse to master reason so utterly. + +In strange altruistic mood he asked himself why he did not spring from +his chair, and, tearing the bracket from its supports, exhibit it to his +fellow-worker, while he gave, in a few passionate sentences, the +information that would set the French police to scour the Mediterranean +littoral until they found the _White Heather_. Of what matter to him was +the suffering of a sister or sweetheart? Did the man who killed Lady +Dyke reck of these things? Yes, he would do it-- + +But a cry of triumph from the detective arrested the fateful words even +as they trembled on his lips. "Here's a find!" was the shout. "Thinking +is all very well, Mr. Bruce, but hard work is better. What do you make +of that?" + +"That" was a letter, which, in the manner known to many a puzzled +householder, had slipped down behind a drawer in the cabinet, to be +crushed against the wardrobe at the back, and lie there forgotten and +unnoticed. + +Even in his perturbed state the barrister could not help glancing at the +crumpled document, first noting the date, October 15th of the year just +closed, with the superscription, "Mountain Butts, Wyoming." There was no +envelope. + +It was addressed to "Dear Bertie," and ran as follows: + + "Your welcome note and its draft for fifty dollars came to hand + last week. My sisters and I can never forget your generosity. + We know you are hard up, and that you can ill spare these + frequent gifts, or loans, as you are pleased to call them. You + and I have been in many a tight place, old chap, and I never + knew you to fail either with hand or heart. And when we drifted + into this ranch, on my advice, and nearly starved to death, it + was you who were bold enough to cut yourself adrift so that + you might make something to keep the pot boiling. + + "But the tide is turning. You know my failing; this time I will + try not to be too sanguine. There have been big gold + discoveries in this country. It is now firmly believed that all + our land is auriferous, and the scoundrel who sold us this + beggarly ranch has tried to upset our title. Thanks to your + foresight, he was knocked out at the first round. So I may soon + have big news for you. By Jove, won't it be a change if we both + become rich! And won't we all have a time in Paris! However, I + must not promise too much. I have been taught caution by + repeated failures. Write by return, and say if this reaches you + all right. + + "Your faithful friend, + "SYDNEY H. CORBETT." + +"What do you think of that?" cried the detective, when Bruce had slowly +mastered the contents of the letter. + +"Think! I am too dazed to think." + +"We can now learn all about him from America." + +"About whom?" + +"About Corbett, of course." + +"Then did Corbett travel by the same mail as this letter in order to +murder Lady Dyke? It is dated October 15th, and she was killed November +6th. It takes twelve days, at the quickest, for a letter to come here +from Wyoming. And Corbett, the writer of it, not the receiver, must have +travelled in the same steamer, or its immediate successor." + +Mr. White's face fell, but he stuck to his point: + +"Anyhow, Corbett was here about that time. I have seen the secretary to +the company that owns these flats. Corbett took the rooms for six months +from September first. When asked for references he gave his sister's +name, and as she banks with the National--and she has always paid her +rent for five years--it was good enough. Still, I must confess that +Corbett could hardly be in Wyoming in October if he lived here in +September and in November." + +The barrister answered between his set teeth: "Yes, it is rather +puzzling." + +"Perhaps the letter was left there as a plant." + +"An elaborate one. It must have been conceived a month before the +murder." + +"But suppose it never came from Wyoming. We have no proof that it was +written in America." + +"We have proof of nothing at present." + +"Well, Mr. Bruce, have you a theory? This is the place where you ought +to shine, you know." + +"I have no theory. I must think for hours, for days, before I see my way +clear." + +"Clear to what, sir." + +"To telling you how, when, and where to arrest the murderer of Lady +Dyke." + +"So this find of mine is of great importance?" + +"Undoubtedly. I remember its contents sufficiently, but you will let me +see it again if necessary?" + +"With pleasure, sir. And that reminds me. You never returned that small +bit of iron to me. You recollect I lent it to you some time since." + +"Perfectly. Come with me. I will model it in wax and give it to you." + +"All right, sir; but as we are here I may as well continue my search. I +may drop on something else of value." + +Bruce resumed his seat, and did not stir until the detective had +completely rummaged the cabinet. The reading of that queer epistle from +Corbett to "Bertie"--from the real Simon Pure to the sham one--from one +man to his double--had stopped him at the very threshold of disclosure. + +The document impressed him as being genuine. If so, who on earth was +Corbett, and why had Mensmore taken his name, if that was the solution +of the tangle? + +Whatever the explanation, he would not jump to a conclusion. The web had +closed too securely round Mensmore to allow of escape. Hence, Bruce +could bide his time. Another week might solve many elements in the case +now indistinct and nebulous. He would wait. + +The detective finally satisfied himself there was nothing else in the +cabinet. He approached the fireplace, peered into every vase on the +over-mantel, picked with his penknife at the back of the frame to feel +for other letters, and in doing so several times kicked the fender. + +The barrister vaguely wondered whether the man of method would note the +missing portion of the iron "dog." + +"Surely," he thought, "he will see it now," as Mr. White bent to examine +the ashes, and actually took the poker from the very support itself in +order to rake among the cinders. + +The other even scrutinized the fire-irons, but the too obvious fact +that, so to speak, stared him in the face, escaped notice. He was quite +wrapped up in his theory that Lady Dyke had been killed at Putney, and +not in Sloane Square. + +At last he quitted the room, and walked off to the small apartments at +the end of the main corridor. + +Instantly Bruce sprang forward, fell on his knees, and intently examined +the iron rest with a strong lens. It bore no unusual signs in the +locality of the break. Taking some wax from his pocket, he took a +slight impression of the fracture. + +When Mr. White returned, he found the barrister sitting in his chair, +still smoking, and with set face and fixed eyes. + +Soon afterwards they quitted the flat, carefully leaving all things as +they found them. They said little on their way to Victoria Street, for +Bruce was trying to explain Mensmore's attitude at Monte Carlo, and the +detective was considering the best use to which he could put that +all-important letter. + +Besides, Mr. White attributed his companion's silence to annoyance. Had +not he, White, laid hands on the only direct piece of evidence yet +discovered as to Corbett's identity, and this in defiance of Bruce's +spoken philosophy? He could afford to be generous and not to worry his +amateur colleague with questions. + +Thus they reached the barrister's chambers. Bruce asked the other to sit +down for a moment while he obtained a model of the small lump of iron. +He took it into his bedroom, fitted in into the wax impression obtained +at Raleigh Mansions, and noted that the two coincided perfectly. + +He handed the bit of iron to White without comment. + +The latter said: "It had better remain in my keeping now, sir, but if +you want to see it again, of course I will be glad--" + +"I shall never want it again," said Bruce, and his voice was harsh and +cold, for he had seldom experienced such a strain as the last hours had +given him. "It is an accursed thing. It has caused one death already, +and may cause others." + +"I sincerely hope it will cause a man to be hanged," cried the +detective, "for this affair is the warmest I have ever tackled. +However, I'll get him, as sure as his name's Corbett, if he has forty +aliases and as many addresses." + +Smith let Mr. White out. The latter, halting for a moment at the door, +said quietly, "Is your name Corbett?" + +"No, it ain't, any more than yours is Black. See?" + +Each man thought he had had his joke, so they were better friends +thenceforth, but Mr. White was thoughtful as he passed into the street. + +"This is a funny business," he communed. "There isn't enough evidence +against Corbett to hang a cat, yet I _think_ he's the man. And Bruce is +a queer chap. Was he cut up about me finding the letter, or has he got +some notion in his head. He's as close as an oyster. I wonder if he +_did_ dine at Hampstead on the evening of the murder, as he said at the +inquest? I must inquire into it." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +MRS. HILLMER HESITATES + + +"I wonder if I shall have such exciting times to-day as I had +yesterday," said Bruce to himself, as he unfolded his _Times_ next +morning at breakfast. + +Affairs had so jumbled themselves together in his brain the previous +evening that he had abandoned all effort to elucidate them. He retired +to rest earlier than usual, to sleep soundly, save for a vivid dream in +which he was being tried for his life, the chief witnesses against him +being Mrs. Hillmer, Phyllis Browne, and Jane Harding, the latter varying +her evidence by entertaining the Court with a song and dance. + +The weather, too, had improved. It was clear, frosty, and sunlit--one of +those delightful days of winter that serve as cheerful remembrances +during periods of seemingly interminable fog overhead and slush beneath. + +During a quiet meal he read the news, and, with the invaluable morning +smoke, settled himself cosily into an armchair to consider procedure. + +In the first place he carefully weighed those utterances of Mensmore at +Monte Carlo, which he could recall, and which seemed by the light of +later knowledge, to bear upon the case. + +Mensmore had alluded to "family troubles," to "worries," and +"anxieties," that practically drove him from England. + +Some of these, no doubt, referred to the Springbok speculation. Others, +again, might have meant Mrs. Hillmer or some other presently unknown +relative. But in Mensmore's manner there was nothing that savored of a +greater secrecy than the natural reticence of a gentleman in discussing +domestic affairs with a stranger. + +This man had practically been snatched from death. At such a moment it +was inconceivable that he could cloak the remorse of a murderer by the +simulation of more honorable motives, in themselves sufficiently +distressing to cause him deliberately to choose suicide as the best way +of ending his difficulties. + +The policeman had summarized the testimony against Corbett as +insufficient to curtail the remarkable powers of endurance of a cat. But +to Bruce the case against Mensmore, alias Corbett, stood in clearer +perspective. Now that he calmly reasoned the matter he felt that the +balance of probabilities swung away from the hypothesis that Mensmore +was the actual slayer of Lady Dyke, and towards the theory that he was +in some way bound up with her death, whether knowingly or unknowingly it +was at present impossible to say. + +The new terror to Bruce was Mr. White. + +"Why, if that animated truncheon knew what I know of this business he +would arrest Mensmore forthwith. If he did, what would result? A +scandal, a thorough exposure, possibly the ruin of Mensmore's +love-making if he be an innocent man. That must be stopped. But how, +without forewarning Mensmore himself?--and he may be guilty. Chance may +favor White, as it favored me, in disclosing the identity of the missing +Corbett. And what of the _real_ Corbett? What on earth has _he_ got to +do with it, and why has Mensmore taken his name? If ever I get to the +bottom of this business I may well congratulate myself. The sole result +of all my labor thus far may be summed up in a sentence--I have not yet +come face to face with the man whom I can honestly suspect as Lady +Dyke's murderer. Not much, my boy!" + +Claude uttered the last sentence aloud, startling Smith, who was +clearing the table. + +"Beg pardon, sir," cried Smith. + +"Oh, nothing. I was only expressing an opinion." + +"I thought, perhaps, sir, you was thinkin' of Mr. White." + +"What of him?" + +"Your remark, sir, hexactly hexpresses my hopinion of 'im." + +Smith was not a badly educated man, but the least excitement produced an +appalling derangement of the letter "h" in his vocabulary. + +"Mr. White is a sharp fellow in his own way, Smith." + +"Maybe, but why should 'e come pokin' round 'ere pryin' into your little +affairs-deecur?" + +"My what?" + +"Sorry, sir, but that's what a French maid I once knew called 'em. +Flirtations, sir. Mashes." + +"Smith, have you been drinking?" + +"Me, sir?" + +"Well, explain yourself. I never flirted with a woman in my life." + +"That's what I told 'im, sir. 'My master's a regular saint,' says I, 'a +sort of middle-aged ankyrite.' But Mr. White 'e wouldn't 'ave it at no +price. 'Come now, Smith,' says 'e, 'your guv'nor's pretty deep. 'E's a +toff, 'e is, an' knows lots of lydies--titled lydies.' 'Very like,' says +I, 'but 'e doesn't mash 'em.' 'Then what price that lydy who called for +'im in a keb afore 'e went away? An' who's 'e gone to Monte Carlo with?' +This was durin' your absence, sir." + +"Go on, Smith. Anything else?" + +"Well, sir, that rather flung me out of my stride, as the sayin' is, as +I _'ad_ seen the lydy in question. An' Mr. White 'as a nasty way of +putting you on your oath, so to speak. But I never owned up." + +Claude laughed. + +"Excellent. Mr. White has a keen nose for false scents. I have already +told him to let my affairs alone. He means no harm." + +But the reference to a "lydy in a keb" had suggested an immediate plan +of action to the barrister. He would call to see Mrs. Hillmer. He wrote +a note asking her if he might come to tea that afternoon, and sent it by +a boy messenger. + +In return he received this answer. + + "Mrs. Hillmer will be at home at four o'clock if Mr. Bruce cares + to call then." + +"Whew!" he whistled. "What's in the wind there? This is an uncommonly +stiff invitation. That rascal White has upset her, I'll be bound. I +_must_ choke him off somehow. Suppose he were to find that damaged +bracket! He would have Mensmore under trial at the Old Bailey in +double-quick time. After I leave Mrs. Hillmer I must visit No. 12 again, +and carry off that pair of brackets before White discovers them, as he +will haunt the place in future." + +Bruce had a set of skeleton keys in his possession. + +They were in his pocket when he approached Raleigh Mansions at the +appointed hour. + +The same trim maid opened the door for him and ushered him into the +drawing-room. On the occasion of his first visit he was taken to the +dining-room. It was a small matter, but Bruce paid heed to such. + +Mrs. Hillmer appeared, very stately and undemonstrative. She greeted him +coldly, seated herself at a distance, and said, in a cold, +well-controlled voice: + +"I did not expect the honor of another visit from you, Mr. Bruce." + +"Why not?" + +There was a fight brewing, and he would let the enemy open fire. The +glitter in her eyes showed that the batteries were ready to be unmasked. +He was not mistaken. + +"Why not? Because I believed you to be a gentleman. Once you had stooped +to sending your myrmidons to pester me I imagined that you would keep +yourself in the background." + +There was an indignant ring in her words as she concluded. When a woman +is angry her own speech acts as a trumpet-call and fires her blood. Mrs. +Hillmer began, as she intended, in icy disdain. She ended in tremulous +anger. + +"You allude to Mr. White?" said the barrister, looking steadily at her. + +"Yes, that is the man. Some hireling from Scotland Yard. How _could_ you +so meanly induce my confidence at our first meeting? I have never been +so deceived in a man in my life, and I have had a surfeit of bitter +experience already." + +"Brother and sister are alike. They have led queer lives," mused Bruce. +Aloud he said: + +"Your experience, Mrs. Hillmer, should at least lead you not to condemn +any one unheard. May I explain that which is to you incomprehensible at +this moment?--justly so, I admit." + +"Explanations! I am a child in the hands of such as you. How can I hope +to fathom your real intent? Presumably, if I accept your apologies now, +it will be a prelude to further visits by impudent police officers." + +"I am not here to apologize, Mrs. Hillmer." + +"What then, pray?" + +"To plead with you. For Heaven's sake do not distrust _me_. It may ruin +those whom you hold dear. Listen to me first, and try to believe me +afterwards." + +He was so thoroughly in earnest, so impressive in manner, that she did +not know what to make of him. In her despair, she adopted a woman's +chief resource--her eyes filled with tears. + +But he anticipated her. + +"Now, Mrs. Hillmer," he cried, "let us act like sensible people. Compose +yourself, order in some tea, and after an interlude I will tell you all +about it. Candor is an indispensable element of confidence." + +Mrs. Hillmer rose, made an effort to choke back her agitation, went out, +and called to the maid for tea. She returned in a few moments. When they +were alone Bruce said, with a smile: + +"A little _poudre de ris_ is an excellent corrective for signs of +grief." + +The lady blushed, and there was a perceptible return to her former +pleasant manner. + +"You are incorrigible, I fear," she cried. + +"Not a bit. Impressionable, rather. Now, I am going to startle you +considerably, so be prepared. And do not jump at conclusions. Though +startling, my news is not alarming. All may yet end well." + +Mrs. Hillmer was manifestly anxious, but she promised to try to +understand him fully before she formed any judgment. + +"Then," said he, "I can clear the air a good deal by a simple statement. +Mr. White is no agent of mine, and I have seen your brother, Albert +Mensmore, at Monte Carlo." + +Mrs. Hillmer gave a little gasp of surprise. "You have seen Bertie?" + +"Yes; your brother, is he not?" + +"My half-brother, to be exact. My father was married twice. I--I am the +elder of the two by four years." + +"Apart from the compliment, you do not look it. But what you say +explains the total absence of likeness between you." + +"Possibly. People said we each resembled our mother. And Bertie, you +know, has led a somewhat adventurous career. He roughed it a good deal +in America. But what has all this got to do with detectives, and recent +inquiries, and that sort of thing?" + +"Much. The last time we met I told you that your brother was mixed up in +some little affair with a lady." + +Mrs. Hillmer laughed, a trifle constrainedly. "If you knew Bertie as +well as I do, you would not harbor suspicions concerning him. He never +had a love affair in his life. Indeed, he is something of a +woman-hater." + +"No doubt he was. But he has changed his opinions. He is in love, and is +engaged to be married to a very charming girl. Thus far, his beliefs and +his good fortune have pulled against each other." + +"Bertie engaged to be married! Good gracious! Who is she? And how can he +support a wife? He is poor, and in debt, and he won't even let me help +him." + +"I have stated the facts, nevertheless. The lady is a daughter of Sir +William Browne, and they are now yachting with a large party in the +Mediterranean." + +"Are her people against the match? Is that why this Scotland Yard +man--?" + +"No. Mensmore is on board Sir William's yacht. But there is another +lady, missing from her home for nearly three months, who is believed to +be dead--murdered, the police say--and with whom your brother was in +some indefinable way associated." + +"Do they dare to say that Bertie killed her?" Mrs. Hillmer's color rose +and her eyes flashed fire again. + +"They say nothing. They are simply doing their duty in trying to +discover the truth. And you may take it from me, as an undoubted fact, +that the last place this lady visited before her death was one of the +flats in these mansions. All present indications point to your brother's +residence as being that place. Now, I pray you, be calm, and try to help +me, for I have acted in this matter as your friend and as your brother's +friend. At this very moment I am concealing his identity and his +whereabouts from the police, who are searching for him under the assumed +name of Corbett. If he is guilty of this crime, then I must hand him +over to justice, for the murdered woman was a dear and good friend of +mine. If he is innocent, as, indeed, I believe him to be, I will strive +to help him and save his good name from the tarnish of being arrested on +such an odious charge." + +During this recital Mrs. Hillmer became deathly pale. Her agitation was +the greater inasmuch as she forcibly controlled herself. But she could +not remain seated. She sprang to the window and looked out, in the vain +effort to seek inspiration from the gathering gloom of the street. Then +she turned, and spoke very slowly: + +"I think I understand. I must have faith in you, Mr. Bruce. +Who--was--the lady?" + +The barrister thought deeply before replying. He had previously decided +upon this supreme step, but he hesitated now that it was imminent. There +was no help for it. + +"Her name," said he, "is one which is well known to the world. Lady +Dyke, wife of Sir Charles Dyke, is missing from her home since the +evening of November 6 last. She met with a violent death that night, and +I--not the police--have good reason to believe that she was killed in +your brother's residence." + +Mrs. Hillmer flung herself on a lounge, buried her white face in her +hands and moaned, in a perfect agony of terror: + +"Oh, my God! What shall I do? What shall I do?" + +This outburst astounded Bruce. He did not know what to make of it. His +intelligence had certainly taken his hearer by surprise. What +interpretation was he to place upon her words and her unrestrained +actions? + +"Now, Mrs. Hillmer," he began; but she broke in vehemently, running to +him and clutching him by the arm: + +"He is innocent, Mr. Bruce. He _must_ be innocent. He could not lift his +finger to any woman. You must save him--do you hear?--save him, or you +will have his blood on your soul. It _was_ true, then, that you came +here to hunt for him. Save him, if you hope for mercy yourself when you +are dying." + +In her passion she shook him violently, and for an instant they looked +intently at each other--the woman tensely piteous, entreating; the man +amazed and questioning. + +"Do you not see," he said at last, "that your vehemence reveals your +thoughts? For anything you know to the contrary, your brother may have +committed the crime. Nay, it requires but slight knowledge of human +nature to read your suspicions lest it be true. At this moment I am +convinced that you are, in your heart, less sceptical than I of his +guilt." + +Mrs. Hillmer flung herself again upon the lounge, silent, tearful, torn +with violent emotion, which she vainly tried to suppress. + +He tried to reason with her. + +"It will, perhaps, serve to clear up a mystery that deepens each moment +if you place your trust in me," he said. "Tell me fully and openly any +cause you may have for fearing that your brother may be implicated in +this terrible business. I ask you to adopt this course in all faith. I +have seen your brother under most trying circumstances; I have been with +him at an hour when it would be impossible for him to conceal his burden +if the weight of Lady Dyke's death lay upon him. Yet I think him +innocent. I think that chance has contributed to gather evidence against +him. If I can learn even a portion of the truth it will enable me to +quickly dispel the barrier of uncertainty that now hinders progress." + +"What is it you want to know?" + +Mrs. Hillmer's voice was hollow and broken. The barrister was shocked at +the effect of his revelation, but he was forced to go on with the +disagreeable task he had undertaken. + +"Do you mean," he asked, "that you will answer my questions?" + +"So far as I can." + +"Would it not be better to tell me in your own words what you have to +say?" + +Mrs. Hillmer looked up, and the agony in her face filled him with keen +pity. + +"Oh, Heaven help me to do what is right!" she cried. + +"Your prayer will surely be answered. I am certain of that. A great +wrong has been committed by some one, and the innocent must not suffer +to shield the guilty." + +Mrs. Hillmer bowed her head and did not utter a word for some minutes. +She appeared to be reasoning out some plan of action in a dazed fashion. +When decision came she said in low tones: + +"You must leave me now, Mr. Bruce. I must have time. When I am ready I +shall send for you." + +He knew instinctively that it was hopeless to plead with her. Frivolous, +volatile women of her stamp often betray unusual strength of character +in a supreme crisis. + +"You are adopting an unwise course," he said sadly. + +"Maybe. But I must be alone. I am not deceiving you. When I have +determined something which is not now clear to me, I will send for you. +It may be that I shall speak. It may be that I shall be silent. In +either case I only can judge--and suffer." + +"Tell me one thing at least, Mrs. Hillmer, before we part. Did you know +of Lady Dyke's death before to-day?" + +She came to him and looked him straight in the face, and said: "I did +not. On my soul, I did not." + +Then he passed into the hall; and even the shock of this painful +interview did not prevent him from noting the flitting of a shadow past +a distant doorway, as some one hurried into the interior of a room. + +In their excitement they forgot that their voices might attract +attention, and ladies' maids are proverbially inquisitive. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +FOXEY + + +The keen, cold air of the streets soon restored the man to his habitual +calm. He felt that a quiet stroll would do him good. + +As he walked he pondered, and the more critically he examined Mrs. +Hillmer's change of attitude the less he understood it. + +"For some ridiculous reason," he communed, "the woman believes her +brother guilty. Now I shall have endless trouble at getting at the +truth. She will not be candid. She will only tell me that which she +thinks will help him, and conceal that which she considers damaging. +That is a woman's way, all the world over. And a desperately annoying +way it is. Perhaps I was to blame in springing this business too hastily +upon her. But there! I like Mrs. Hillmer, and I hate using her as one +juggles with a self-conceited witness. In future I shall trouble her no +more." + +A casual glance into the interior of Sloane Square Station gave him a +glimpse of the barrier, and he recognized the collector who had taken +Lady Dyke's ticket on that fatal night when she quitted the Richmond +train. + +Rather as a relief than for other cause he entered into conversation +with the official. + +"Do you remember me?" he said. + +"Can't say as I do, sir." The man examined his questioner with quick +suspicion. The forgotten "season" dodge would not work with _him_. + +"Maybe you remember these?" said Bruce, producing his cigar-case. + +"Now, wot's the gyme?" said the collector to himself. But he smiled, and +answered: "Do you mean by the look of 'em, sir?" + +"Good!" laughed Claude. "Take three or four home with you. Meanwhile I +am sure you remember me coming to see you last November concerning a +lady who alighted here from Victoria one foggy evening and handed you a +ticket to Richmond?" + +"Of course I do, sir. And the cigars are _all_ right. There was a lot of +fuss about that lydy. Did she ever turn up?" + +"Not exactly. That is to say, she died shortly after you saw her." + +"No! Well, of all the rummy goes! She was a fine-looking woman, too, as +well as I rec'llect. Looked fit for another fifty year. Wot 'appened to +'er." + +"I don't know. I wish I did." + +"An' 'ave you been on the 'unt ever since, guv'nor?" + +"Yes, ever since." + +"She's dead, you s'y?" + +"Yes." + +"But 'ow'd you know she's dead, if you 'ain't seen 'er since?" + +"I have seen her. I saw her dead body at Putney." + +"At Putney! Well, I'm blowed!" + +A roar from beneath, the slamming of many doors, and the quick rush of a +crowd up the steps, announced the arrival of a train. "Pardon, sir," +said the man, "this is the 5.41 Mansion House. But don't go aw'y. +There's somethin'--Tickets, _if_ you please." + +In a minute the collector had ended his task. While sorting his bundles +of pasteboards he said: + +"Nobody ever tell'd me that before. An' you ain't the only one on 'er +track. Are you in the police?" + +"No." + +"I thought not. But some other chaps who kem 'ere was. None of 'em ever +said the lydy was dead." + +"Why; what matter?" + +"Oh, nothin', but two 'eads is better'n one, if they're only sheep's +'eads." + +"Undoubtedly. The rule is all the more reliable when one of them belongs +to a shrewd chap like you." + +The collector grinned. He understood that he was being flattered for a +purpose, yet he liked it. + +"That's one w'y of lookin' at it," he said, "but if this affair's +pertickler, why, all I can s'y is it's worth somethin' to somebody." + +"Certainly. Here's a sovereign for a start. If you can tell me anything +really worth knowing I will add four more to it." + +"Now, that's talkin'. I'm off duty at eight o'clock, an' I can't 'ave a +chat now because I expect the inspector any minute." + +"Suppose you call and see me in Victoria Street at nine?" + +"Right you are, sir." + +Bruce gave the man his address and recrossed the square. Few people were +abroad, so he walked straight to the first door of Raleigh Mansions and +made his way to the fourth floor. + +Had he been a moment later he must have seen Mrs. Hillmer, closely +wrapped up, leave her residence unattended. Her carriage was not in +waiting. She walked to the cabstand in the square and called a hansom, +driving back up Sloane Street. + +Her actions indicated a desire to be unobserved even by her servants, as +in the usual course of events the housemaid would have brought a cab to +the door. + +But the barrister, steadily climbing up the stairs, could not guess what +was happening in the street. He soon opened Mensmore's door, and noted, +as an idle fact, that the expected gust of cold air was absent. + +There was no light on this landing, so he was in pitch darkness once he +had passed the doorway. There was no need to strike a match, however, as +he remembered the exact position of the electric switchboard--on the +left beyond the dining-room door. + +He stepped cautiously forward, and stretched forth his hand to grope for +the lever. With a quick rush, some two or three assailants flung +themselves upon him, and after a fierce, gasping struggle--for Bruce was +a strong man--he was borne to the floor face downwards, with one arm +beneath him and the other pinioned behind his back. + +"Look sharp, Jim," shouted a breathless voice. "Turn on the light and +close the door. We've got him safe enough." + +They had. Two large hands were clutched round his neck, a knee was +firmly embedded in the small of his back, another hand gripped his left +wrist like a vice, while some one sat on his legs. + +He could not have been collared more effectually by a Rugby +International team. + +The third man found the electric light and turned it on. + +"Now, get up," said some one, "and don't give us any more trouble. It's +no use." + +The barrister, who had had his wind knocked out of him, rose to his +knees. Then, as the light fell upon the horrified face of Mr. White, he +vainly essayed to keep up the pretence of indignation. Once fairly on +his feet, he nearly collapsed with laughter. He leaned against the wall, +and, as his breath came again, he laughed until his sides ached. + +Meanwhile the detective was crimson with rage and annoyance. His two +assistants did not know what to make of the affair. + +"What's wrong, Jim?" said one at last. "Isn't this Corbett?" + +"No, of course it's not," was his angry growl. + +"Then who the ---- is it?" + +"Oh, ask me another! How on earth could I guess, Mr. Bruce, that you'd +come letting yourself in here with a latchkey?" + +Claude was still holding his sore ribs and could not answer; but the +policeman who had questioned White caught the name. He recognized it, +and grinned at his companion. + +"What did you want here, anyhow?" snarled the infuriated detective, as +he realized that his great _coup_ would be retailed with embellishments +through every police station in the metropolis. + +"I w-wanted you to ar-r-rest me, W-White," roared Claude. "I s-said you +would, and you have." + +"Confound it, how could you know I was here?" + +"You were sure to wait here for a man who probably will not return for +months." + +"Was I, indeed? Well, you have yourself to blame if you are hurt. I +hope my mates did not treat you too badly?" + +"What?" cried the one who had not yet spoken. "He gave me such a punch +on the bread-basket that I've only just recovered my speech." + +"I think we're about quits," said the other, surveying a torn waistcoat +and broken watch-chain. + +"I shall be black and blue all over to-morrow," said Bruce; "but if you +are satisfied I am. Come, Mr. White, bring your friends and we will open +a bottle of wine. We all want it. Corbett won't be here to-night. Just +now he is in Wyoming." + +"How do you know?" + +"By intuition. I am seldom mistaken." + +"But why didn't you call out just now when you came in?" + +"I hadn't a chance. You were on me like a thousand of bricks. I must +confess that if Corbett were in my shoes he would be a doomed man." + +White didn't know whether to believe Bruce or not. He was genuinely +angry at the incident, but the barrister did not want to convert him +into an enemy, and he vaguely felt that a catastrophe was imminent, and +a false move by the police might do irretrievable mischief. + +"Well, inspector," he said, "I must confess that this time you have got +the better of me. I did not know you were here. I looked in for the +purpose of quietly studying the ground, as it were, and I was never more +taken by surprise in my life. Moreover, your plan was a very clever one, +in view of the fact that Corbett might return at any moment." + +The detective became more amiable at this praise from the famous +amateur, for Bruce's achievements were well known to his two colleagues. + +"I suppose you wondered what had happened," he said with a smile. + +"I thought my last hour had come. I am only sorry that Corbett himself +did not have the experience." + +"Do you really believe he is in the States, sir?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"Then he must have returned there since he wrote that letter." + +"That is the only solution of the difficulty." + +"Hum. It's a pity." + +"Why?" + +"I would sooner prefer to arrest him on this side. To get him by +extradition is a slow affair, and probably means a trip across the +Atlantic." + +Good-humor being now restored, the party quitted the flat and adjourned +to a neighboring hotel, where the barrister started White on the full, +true, and particular account of his pursuit and capture of the Winchmore +Hill burglars, an exploit which was the pride of the detective's life. + +At the end of a bottle of champagne and a cigar they all parted +excellent friends, but Bruce did not attempt to revisit Raleigh Mansions +that night. + +Instead, he partook of a quiet meal at a restaurant, and hurried to his +chambers to await the advent of the ticket-collector. + +Punctual to the hour, this new witness arrived, and was admitted by +Smith in obedience with previous instructions. The man was somewhat awed +by the surroundings and the appearance of a servant in livery, but Bruce +quickly put him at his ease. + +"Come, sit near the fire. Do you drink whisky and soda? That box +contains your favorite cigars. Now, tell me all you know about this +business." + +"I can't s'y as I know anythink about it, sir, but by puttin' two and +two together it makes four sometimes--not always." + +"Quite right. You're a philosopher. Let me hear the two two's. We will +see about the addition afterwards." + +"Well, sir, this yer lydy was a-missin' early in November. She tykes a +ticket at Victoria Station on the District for Richmond; she gives it up +to me at Sloane Square, arsks a newsboy the w'y to Raleigh Mansions, for +'e tell'd me so after you'd bin to see me, an' from what you s'y, 'as +bin swallered up ever since." + +"The Lord Chief couldn't state the case more simply." + +"That's the first two. Now, for the second two, an' you won't forgit as +I knew nothink about the lydy bein' dead, or I should 'ave opened my +mouth long afore this." + +"Go on. No one can blame you." + +"There's an old chap--Foxey they calls 'im, but I don't know 'is right +nyme--who drives a four-wheeler around Chelsea, an' 'e 'ad tyken a fare +from the Square to the City. It might be four o'clock or it might be +five, but 'e was on 'is w'y back from Cornhill when a gent, a tall, +good-looking gent, a youngish, military chap, 'ails 'im and says: +'Cabby, drive me to Sloane Square. There's no 'urry, but tyke care, +because it's foggy.' Old Foxey nearly jumped out of 'is skin at this bit +of good luck. 'E was pretty full then, for 'e's a regular beer-barrel, +'e is, but 'e made up 'is mind to 'ave a fair old skinful that night. +Well, Foxey drives 'im all right to the Square. The gent gives 'im five +bob and says: 'Wite 'ere for me, cabby. You can drive me 'ome in about +an hour's time.' This was at 5.30. Foxey drew up near the stytion, tells +me all about it, an' stan's me two beers, 'e was that pleased with +'isself. 'E goes to give 'is 'oss the nose-bag, in comes the Richmond +train, and out pops the lydy with the Richmond ticket. D'ye follow me?" + +"Every word." + +"An' you see now 'ow it is I can fix the d'y?" + +"Perfectly." + +"Well, I sees no more of Foxey. I missed 'im about the Square, so one +d'y I axes at the rank,--'Where's Foxey?' An' where d'ye think 'e was?" + +"I can not tell." + +"In quod." + +"In jail. Why?" + +"That's hit. That's number two of the twos. Pardon me, but I'm gettin' a +bit mixed. Well, it seems that that very night, comin' back from Putney +as drunk as a lord, old Foxey runs over a barrer. 'E an' the coster 'as +a fight. The police come, and Foxey dots one bobby in the blinkers and +another on the boko. You wouldn't think it was in 'im. 'E must 'ave bin +paralytic." + +"So he was locked up?" + +"Locked up! 'E was dragged there by the 'eels. Next mornin' 'e comes +before the beak. 'We was all drunk together, your wurshup,' 'e says. 'I +took a fare from the City to Sloane Square, an' 'e left me for more'n an +hour. 'E comes back excited like--bin boozin' 'ard, I suppose--brings my +keb up to a 'ouse, carries in a lydy who was that 'toxicated she +couldn't stand, an' tells me to drive to Putney. We gits there, an' I +says 'you've nearly killed my 'oss, guv'nor.' With that 'e tips me a +fiver--a five-pun note, your wurshup.' 'What has that got to do with +the charge?' says the beak. 'Wot?' says Foxey. 'If a chap give you a +fiver for drivin' 'im to Putney wouldn't you get drunk?' With that the +magistrate gives 'im three months for assaulting the police, and fines +'im the balance of the fiver for bein' drunk in charge of a 'oss and +keb." + +The ticket collector took a long drink after this recital. + +"I hope you will not follow Foxey's example," said Bruce, rising. + +"'Ow do you mean, sir?" + +"Because I am going to keep my word. Here are the four sovereigns I owe +you. In your case your two and two have made five." + +"Thank you, sir. You're a brick. No fear of me meltin' this little lot. +The missus will be on 'em like a bird w'en I tell her." And the man spat +upon the coins with evident relish as he handled them. + +"One word more," said Bruce. "Where was this man tried?" + +"At the West London Police Court." + +"You can get me his real name and post it to me?" + +"Sure, sir. Anyway, I'll try." + +"I am greatly obliged to you." + +"An' 'as my yarn bin of any use to you, sir?" + +"The greatest. It has solved a puzzle. However, I will see you again. +Good-bye. Don't forget to write." + +"Cornhill is the direct line from Leadenhall Street," mused Claude, when +he was alone. "Any one coming to Sloane Square from Dodge & Co.'s office +would pass through it. Upon my word, things look very black against +Mensmore. Yet I cannot believe it." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +A POSSIBLE EXPLANATION + + +Bruce now had several lines of inquiry open. + +Apart from the main and vital question as to the exact method of Lady +Dyke's death, and the identity of the person responsible for it, a +number of important matters required attention. + +Why had Jane Harding quitted her situation so suddenly? + +Whence did she obtain the money that enabled her to blossom forth as +Marie le Marchant? + +Who was Sydney H. Corbett? + +Why did Mensmore adopt a false name; and, in any case, why adopt the +name of Corbett? + +Why did Mrs. Hillmer exhibit such sudden terror lest her brother might +be guilty? + +Whom did Mrs. Hillmer marry? Was her husband alive or dead? + +Was the man who conveyed Lady Dyke's body from Raleigh Mansions to +Putney responsible also for her death? + +Finally, why did he select that particular portion of the Thames banks +for the bestowal of his terrible burden? + +Many other minor features suggested themselves for careful attention, +but the barrister knew that if he elucidated some of the major questions +the rest would answer themselves. + +The last query promised to yield a good crop of information should it be +satisfactorily dealt with. Turning to his notes, he found that the +former owner of the Putney house was a tutor or preparatory +schoolmaster, named the Rev. Septimus Childe. + +Could it be that this was the school in which both Sir Charles Dyke and +Mensmore were fellow-students? If so, Bruce failed to see why he should +not forthwith place the whole of the facts in his possession at the +service of the police, and allow the law to take its course. + +On this supposition, the case against Mensmore was very black; not, +indeed, incapable of explanation--for circumstantial evidence +occasionally plays strange pranks with logic--but of such a grave nature +that no private individual would be justified in keeping his knowledge +to himself. + +The deduction was intensely disagreeable; but Bruce resolved to coerce +his thoughts, and do that which was right, irrespective of consequences. + +He did not possess a Clergy List. No letter came from Mrs. Hillmer, so +he walked across the Park to his club in Pall Mall to consult the +appropriately bound black and white volume which gives reference to the +many degrees of the Church of England. + +Septimus Childe was a distinctive, though simple, name. And it was not +there. There was not a Childe with a final "e" in the whole book. +Without that important letter, as his informant might be mistaken, there +were several. Close scrutiny of each man's designation and duties +convinced him that though any of these might be one of the particular +Childe's children, none answered to the description of the gentleman he +sought. + +Of course, he could always apply to Sir Charles Dyke, but he dreaded +approaching the grief-stricken baronet on this matter. Now there was no +help for it. The barrister was beginning to feel impatient at the +constant difficulties which barred progress in each direction. After +all, it was a small thing merely to ask his friend if he ever knew a +reverend gentleman named Childe. + +Bruce was sure that Sir Charles would not be acquainted with Mr. Childe, +and also with the fact that the Putney house had served as his school, +for it would be strange beyond credence if it were so that he had not +mentioned it. + +The weather was still clear and cold, and a wintry sun made walking +pleasant. Claude, on quitting his club, set out again on foot. He +crossed St. James's Square, Jermyn Street, and Piccadilly, and made his +way to Oxford Street up New Bond Street. + +Not often did he frequent these fashionable thoroughfares, and he had an +excellent reason. When walking, he was given to abstraction, and seldom +saw his acquaintances if he encountered them in unusual quarters. He +would thus cut dead a woman at whose house he had dined the previous +evening, or, when he was in practice at the Bar, fail to notice the +salutation of his own leader. + +To Claude himself this short-coming was intolerable; consciousness of it +when in the West made him the most alert man in the crowd to note +anybody whom he knew, except on the rare occasions when he forgot his +failing. + +This morning Bond Street was pleasantly full. People were beginning to +return to town. Parliament re-assembled in a few days, and he passed +many who were on his visiting list. + +Outside a well-known costumer's he saw a brougham, into which a lady had +just been assisted by the commissionaire. + +It is no uncommon thing to recognize an acquaintance by the color of his +horse, or the peculiar cut of the coachman's whiskers. This time Bruce +knew the driver as well as the equipage, but the lady was not Mrs. +Hillmer. + +Instantly he was at the door, with his hat lifted; he assumed an +expression of polite regret as he saw Dobson, the maid, in her +mistress's place. + +"Sorry," he said, "I knew the carriage, and thought that Mrs. Hillmer +was inside. She is well, I trust." + +"Not very, sir," answered the maid with an angry pout. + +"Indeed, what is the matter?" + +"Madame is going away, and has put us all on board wages." + +Dobson had some of the privileges of a companion, and resented this +relegation to the servants' hall. + +"Going away?" cried Bruce. "A sudden departure, eh?" + +The girl was arranging some parcels on the seat in front of her. She was +not disinclined for a conversation with this good-looking gentleman, so +she smiled archly, as she said: "Didn't you know, sir? I thought you +would know all about it." + +What he might have ascertained by a longer chat the barrister could not +tell, for an interruption occurred. The coachman was more loyal to his +mistress than the maid. + +"Beg pardon, sir," he cried, "but the missus told us to hurry"; and he +whipped his steed into the passing stream of carriages. + +"More complications," murmured Claude. "Mrs. Hillmer contemplates a +bolt. Shall I pay her another visit and surprise her? No, confound it, I +will not. Let her go, and let things take their course." + +Not in the most amiable frame of mind at this discovery, he pursued his +walk to Portman Square. + +Sir Charles Dyke was at home. He always was, now. + +"For goodness' sake, Mr. Bruce," whispered Thompson in the hall, "try to +persuade Sir Charles to quit smokin', and readin', and thinkin'. He sits +all day in the library and 'ardly has anything to eat." + +Claude reproached himself for having neglected his resolution to stir +his friend into something like animation. He was wondering what he +should do in the matter, when the baronet rose at his entrance, saying, +with a weary smile: + +"Well, old fellow, what news?" + +The other suddenly decided to throw all questioning to the winds for the +moment. "I have come to bring you out. I won't hear of a refusal. Let us +walk to the club and have lunch and a game of billiards." + +Sir Charles protested. He had slept badly and was tired. + +"All the more reason that you should sleep well to-night. Come, now, be +advised. You will allow yourself to become a hopeless invalid if you go +on in this way." + +Dyke unwillingly consented, and they left the house. The older man +brightened up considerably amidst the bustle of the streets. His color +returned, he talked with some degree of cheerfulness, and even laughed +as he said: + +"I never understood you were a doctor, Claude, in addition to your other +varied acquirements. For the first time since--since November last, I +feel hungry." + +"Why don't you take my advice, and go away for some shooting? It is not +too late, even now, to go after a hare." + +"I will think of it. I wonder who we shall meet at the club." + +"Lots of fellows, no doubt. And, by the way, you must be prepared for +one little difficulty. Suppose they ask about your wife?" + +The baronet's momentary gaiety vanished. He stopped short, and clutched +Bruce's arm. "Don't you see," he almost moaned, "that this is the reason +I have remained indoors for so long? What shall I say?" + +"You must make the best of it. Say, off-handedly, you don't know where +she is--either with relations or in Italy. Anything will do, and it will +create a false impression." + +"I am sick of false impressions. I cannot do it." + +"You must." + +The stronger will prevailed, and they entered the doors of the Imperial, +where, of course, Dyke was hailed at once by a dozen men. + +"Hallo, Charlie! Been seedy?" + +"Good gracious, Dyke! have you had influenza? I've missed you for +months, now I come to think of it." + +"I haven't seen your wife for quite a time. How is she?" + +In the multitude of questions there was safety. + +Sir Charles answered vaguely, and a chance arrival created a diversion +by announcing that the favorite had broken down in his preparation for +the Grand National. + +Later in the afternoon, the two found themselves ensconced in a quiet +corner of the smoking-room. Bruce seized the opportunity. + +"You told me," he said, "that Mensmore and you were at school together?" + +"Did I?" said the baronet. + +"Yes; don't you remember?" + +"I get mixed up in thinking about things. But it is all right. We were." + +"Whereabouts?" + +"Oh, a private establishment kept by an old chap called Septimus +Childe,--Lucky Number was our nickname for him." + +Bruce betrayed no surprise at this startlingly simple statement. He said +casually: + +"I mean where was the school situated?" + +"At Brighton in my time. But afterwards he shifted to some place near +London--something to do with examinations, I fancy." + +"But don't you know where?" + +"How should I? I was at Sandhurst then. I believe the old boy is dead. +Why do you ask?" + +"Oh, it has something to do with the inquiry. I won't trouble you now +with the details." + +"Go on, I can stand it." + +"But where is the good in paining you needlessly?" + +"That stage has passed, old chap. My wife's memory has almost become a +dream to me." + +"Well, it is an extraordinary thing, but that place where--that house at +Putney, you know, must have been the new school of the Rev. Septimus +Childe." + +"How did you learn that?" + +"I have known it for months, ever since the inquest." + +"And you did not tell me?" + +"True, but at the time it seemed of no consequence. Now that Mensmore +turns out to be a pupil of his, and probably passed the remainder of his +early school days at that very establishment, the incident assumes a +degree of importance." + +Sir Charles looked earnestly at his friend as he put his next question: +"Tell me, Claude, do you seriously believe that Mensmore had anything to +do with my wife's death?" + +"I cannot honestly give you a satisfactory answer." + +"But what do you think?" + +"If you press me I will try to put my opinion into words. Mensmore was +in some mysterious way associated with the crime; but the degree of +association, and whether conscious or unconscious, I do not know." + +"What do you mean by 'conscious or unconscious'?" + +"I am sure that Lady Dyke met her death in his residence; but it is +impossible to say now if he was aware of her presence. He was in London +at the time, that is quite certain." + +"Do the police know all this?" + +"No." + +"I am glad of it. Mensmore did not kill my wife. The suggestion is +absurd--wildly absurd." + +"Things look black against him, nevertheless." + +"I tell you it is nonsense. You are on the wrong track, Bruce. What +possible reason could he have had to decoy my wife to his flat and there +murder her?" + +"None, perhaps." + +"Then why do you hesitate to agree with me?" + +"Because there is a woman in the case." + +"Another woman?" + +"Yes; Mensmore's sister, or half-sister, to be exact. She also lives in +Raleigh Mansions." + +"Indeed. So all kinds of things have been going on without my knowledge. +Yet you promised faithfully to keep me informed of every incident that +transpired." + +"I am sorry, Dyke; but you were so upset--" + +"Upset, man. Don't you realize that this affair is all I have to think +about in the world?" + +The baronet was so disturbed that Claude at once made up his mind +to tell him as little as possible in the future. These constant +possibilities of rupture between them must be avoided at all hazard. + +To change the conversation he said: "Never mind; this time you must +pardon my inadvertence. How do your wife's people bear the continued +mystery of her disappearance?" + +"At first they were awfully cut up. But lately they have been reconciled +to her death, which they say must have resulted from accident, and that +her identity must have been mixed up with that of some other person. +Such things do happen, you know. Anyway, her sister has gone into +mourning for her. You didn't hear, I suppose, that I have made my little +nephew my heir?" + +"Was that step necessary at your time of life?" + +"I shall never marry again, Bruce." + +"Well, let us drop the subject. You have done right as regards the boy +under present circumstances; but, as a man of the world, I only point +out that it is an unwise thing to bring up a youngster in expectation of +something which chance might determine differently." + +"Chance! There is no chance! My wife cannot return from the grave!" + +"True. You have done right, no doubt. But the suddenness of the thing +caused me to speak unwittingly." + +They were silent for a little while, when Sir Charles returned to the +subject nearest his heart. + +"Has your search developed in other directions?" + +Bruce fenced with the query. "To be candid," he said, "I am now most +busily engaged in the not very difficult task of throwing dust in the +eyes of the police. My motives are hardly definite to myself, but I do +not want this unfortunate man, Mensmore, to be arrested until I have +personally become convinced of his guilt." + +"You are right. Your instinct seldom fails you. I question if he ever, +to his own knowledge, saw my wife." + +"Ah! You see you have hit upon the difficulty. Show me her reason for +making that secret journey, and I will tell you how she met her death." + +His concluding words sank to a murmur. An old friend of Dyke's had +entered the room and came toward them. + +A few minutes later Bruce quitted the Imperial and drove to his +chambers, where he found a note from the ticket collector stating that +Foxey's name was William Marsh. + +The day was still young, and the barrister paid a visit to the West +London Police Court, where the records soon revealed the conviction of +the cab-driver and the period of his sentence. + +"Let me see," said the resident inspector, "his time at Holloway is up +on February 6. That is a Monday, and as Sunday doesn't count, he will be +liberated on the 4th, about 8 A.M. That is the habit, sir, in the matter +of short sentences. If you want to see him when he leaves the jail you +can either wait at the gates or at the nearest public-house, where the +prisoners go for their first drink. They seldom or never miss." + +Bruce thanked the official and returned home. + +He was on the point of going out to drive, when he received a letter +from Sir Charles Dyke. It ran: + + "_My Dear Claude_,--Today's experiences have taught me to take + the inevitable step of announcing my wife's death. Hence, I + have forwarded the enclosed notice to an advertisement agency, + with instructions to insert it in the principal papers. I have + also decided to follow your advice and leave town for a few + days. I am going to Wensley, my place in Yorkshire, should you + happen to want me. + + "Yours, + "CHARLES DYKE." + +The notice read: + + "DYKE.--On November 6, Alice, wife of Sir Charles Dyke, Bart., + suddenly, at London." + +Next morning it figured in the obituary columns of many newspapers. +Bruce, though taken back by the suddenness of his friend's resolve, saw +no reason to endeavor to dissuade him. In the words of the letter, it +was "the inevitable step." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +WHAT HAPPENED ON THE RIVIERA + + +The _White Heather_ swung quietly at her moorings in the harbor of +Genoa the Superb. The lively company on board, tired after a day's +sight-seeing, had left the marble streets and palace cafés to the +Genoese, and sought the pleasant seclusion of the yacht's airy promenade +deck. + +"Dinner on board, followed by a dance," said Phyllis, as arbiter of the +procedure. A few hasty invitations sent out to British residents in +Genoa met with general acceptance, and the lull between afternoon tea +and the more formal meal was a grateful interlude. + +Genoa is so shut in by its amphitheatre of hills that unless a gale +blows from the west its bay is unruffled, and its atmosphere +oppressively hot during the day, even in the winter months. + +Sir William Browne's excursion had proved so attractive to those invited +that the _White Heather_ was taken farther along the coast than was +originally intended. When all the best known resorts of the Riviera +itself were exploited, some one, probably prompted thereto by Phyllis or +Mensmore, suggested a run to Genoa. + +They had been in the port three days, and on the morrow would hand the +yacht over to the owner's agents, those on board separating on their +different routes. The Brownes went to Florence and Rome, and Mensmore +was pretending to hold out against a pressing request to accompany +them, cordially given by his prospective father-in-law. + +This afternoon Phyllis and he were leaning over the taffrail and +discussing the point. + +The young lady was slightly inclined to be angry. Her eyes roamed over +the magnificent panorama of church-crowned hills and verdant valleys, +with the white city in front and the picturesque quays looking as though +they had been specially decked for a painting by Clara Montalba. But +Phyllis paid heed to none of these things. She wanted her lover to come +with her, and not to fly away to smoke-covered London. + +"Business!" she cried, "it is always business that men think of. Of +course I know that affairs must be attended to, but now that everything +is settled and we are quite happy, it is too bad of you to run away +immediately." + +"But, dearest--" + +"There! Take your hand off my arm. You are not going to coax me into +agreement. Just because you receive a horrid letter this morning you go +and upset all the arrangements." + +"Phyllis, listen to me. I--" + +"You _shan't_ go. I think it is mean of you to insist upon it when I am +so urgent." + +"I am not insisting. You might at least help me to settle matters; +otherwise they will get terribly mixed." + +"And you _will_ stay?" + +"What else can I do when you ask me?" + +"Oh, you darling!" + +This little quarrel was very delightful, and made them feel ever so much +more in love than before; but it did not help Mensmore out of his +difficulty. + +"Let us see what Corbett really says," he remarked, ruefully taking a +letter from his pocket. + +"Am I to look, too?" + +"Of course. I have no secrets from you, little woman." + +Phyllis nestled up close to him. This time she did not object to his +hand resting on her shoulder, and together they read the following +letter: + + "_My Dear Bertie_,--At last I am able to write you definitely. + The prospectors have struck it rich on our property, and I have + sold two claims outright for $50,000. With this nest-egg I am + taking the girls to New York, and shall then start by the + _Teutonic_ for your side of the pond. I am due in Liverpool on + February 4, so look out for me. + + "Yours ever, + "SYDNEY H. CORBETT." + +Both gazed thoughtfully at the document for a few moments before Phyllis +said: + +"Does that mean we shall be rich, Bertie?" + +Her companion emphasized the gratification of the plural pronoun by a +squeeze. + +"I hope so, sweet." + +"That will be very nice, won't it? I will marry you even if you have to +take a place in father's office; but it will be so much better if we +haven't to explain to him that we are poor after all." + +Mensmore laughed. "It is not so bad as that in any case," he said. "This +Springbok Mine speculation will probably turn out well, but I look to +Wyoming to yield the best and most permanent results." + +"Why is Mr. Corbett coming to London?" + +"Because it is only in London that capital can be obtained for large +undertakings, and if the Wyoming Goldfield is really a valuable one we +may be able to realize some portion of our interests for a considerable +sum. Anyhow, he wants to consult me." + +"Do you both own the ranch?" + +"Yes; it was a joint transaction, but I found the money." + +"And why did you come away?" + +"Well, we made very little out of it, Phil. As Corbett has two sisters, +I thought it best to leave what there was for him. He was absurdly +grateful about what he called my generosity in the matter, but now that +the land has proved valuable, of course all that nonsense is at an end, +and we go half-shares in the deal." + +"Two sisters! They pretty?" + +"What! Jealous already! They are very nice, but much older than their +brother, and he is my senior by two years." + +Miss Browne was graciously pleased to accept this explanation. She +knitted her smooth brow into a reflective frown as she said: + +"Mr. Corbett arrives on the 4th. It is now January 30th. You really +ought to go home, Bertie." + +"Now my dear, sensible little woman is talking like her own self." + +"I see I must give you permission. But I did hope we would see Florence +together." + +"So we shall. I'll tell you what I can do. I shall write to Corbett +to-day, care of the steamer at Liverpool, tell him to go to my flat, and +stay there a few days until I arrive, and go home myself at the end of +next week. He is sure to spend some time seeing the sights before +tackling business, and he can do that as well without me as if I were +there. A line to my old housekeeper, who has a spare key, will make the +place habitable for him. Happy thought, I'll do it." + +"And another happy thought! I'll come and watch you do it." + +She did not notice that Mensmore's face clouded at this otherwise +pleasant intimation. Nevertheless, he raced off with her to the saloon +and seated himself at the writing-table. But before he placed pen to +paper, Phyllis bending over him meanwhile, he suddenly exclaimed, in a +tone of annoyance: + +"Now, what a bore this is. I don't know how to address the letter to +make sure of reaching him at once, and it is very important that it +should not miss him." + +"Father will know. Let us ask him." + +"No," said Mensmore judicially, "I will row across the harbor to the +Florio-Rubattino office, find out the exact thing, and send off the +letter. Back in half-an-hour. Be good!" + +And before Phyllis could argue the matter he was at the gangway shouting +for a boat. + +She blew a kiss to him as he shot over the narrow strip of water inside +the mole, and little realized that Mensmore was saying to himself: + +"That was a narrow squeak. Never again, as long as I live, will I take +another man's name. It causes no end of bother, and at the most +unexpected moments." + +He did not trouble the Florio-Rubattino people, as he well knew that a +letter addressed to the White Star offices would insure any +communication reaching his friend. + +The context of the missive, as finally indited at the post-office, +explains his hesitancy to write it in the presence of his _fiancée_. + + "_My dear Sydney_,--Your good news is more than surprising. + Although I believe you, I cannot yet grasp its full + significance. However, let us leave explanations until we meet. + I am fixed here for a few days more, as I have just become + engaged to the sweetest girl in the world, but will return home + at the end of next week. Meanwhile I want you to take up your + residence at my flat, No. 12 Raleigh Mansions, Sloane Square, + where my housekeeper has instructions to receive you. Do not be + surprised if you find the name of Corbett familiar there. + Indeed, I took the place in your name in August last. However, + all explanations when we meet. + + "Yours ever, + "BERTIE MENSMORE." + +This, with a note to the housekeeper, Mrs. Robinson, and another to the +hall-porter of the Universities Club, lest by any chance the Liverpool +letter missed his friend, completed his task. + +He laughed as he hurried from the post-office to the harbor. + +"By Jove!" he said to himself, "won't old Robinson be surprised when +she gets my letter telling her that another Mr. Corbett is coming from +America, and that my name, concealed for family reasons, is Mensmore. I +guess that Sydney will feel a bit mixed up, too, until I tell him the +whole yarn." + +No wonder his housekeeper would fail to understand him. + +Others, whose influence on his fortunes he little suspected, were +already puzzled by the circumstances. Bruce, for instance, and White +would be very glad if some occult power enabled them to read the +seemingly trivial letters posted that day in Genoa. + +Every person known to the reader, and not the least the visitor from the +United States, was on the eve of a mad whirl of events, the outcome of +which no man could prophesy. As yet, one man only, Claude Bruce, had the +slightest suspicion that affairs were approaching a crisis. + +When Mensmore reached the _White Heather_ he found Lady Browne and +Phyllis dressed for a drive before dinner. Sir William seized the +opportunity to cross-examine his daughter's suitor as to his means. +Phyllis was an only child, and her father did not propose that she +should live in penury, whatever the financial position of her husband +might be. He liked Mensmore, and had ascertained by private inquiries +that his social position was good. + +"His father was a Major-General," said his informant, "who lost his +savings by speculation, and was unable to maintain his son in a crack +cavalry corps, so the youngster resigned and went to America to try to +better himself. There was a daughter, too, by the first wife, a very +charming woman, who, when the crash came, was supposed to have gone on +the stage. But I have never heard of her since." + +So far, the credentials were not bad; but Sir William thought it his +duty to ascertain definite particulars. + +Mensmore was quite candid with him. + +"I have been somewhat of a rolling stone," he said, "but I am glad to +believe that people have never had cause to think ill of me. At times, +my affairs have been at a desperate stage, but I hope such periods have +passed forever. I have already spoken to you about the Springbok Mine--" + +The old gentleman nodded. + +"Well, this morning I have received very satisfactory news from +America," and he handed over Corbett's letter for perusal. + +"Yes," agreed Sir William, "these things promise well. We will look into +them when we reach England. Meanwhile, I give my provisional sanction to +my daughter's engagement. She is a good girl, Mensmore. She will be a +true and excellent wife. I think you are worthy of her, and I hope that +whatever clouds may have darkened your life will now pass away. You two +ought to be happy." + +"We will, sir," said Mensmore fervently. + +"By the way, where is your sister? Is she in England or abroad?" + +Mensmore had been expecting this question. He was prepared for it. + +"Mrs. Hillmer is my half-sister," he explained. "I have not seen much of +her since--since an unhappy marriage she contracted some years ago." + +"Indeed. Is her husband alive?" + +"I can hardly tell you. I believe so. But she does not live with him. +She is well provided for, but it was partly on account of this matter +that I came to the Riviera for the winter. To tell the truth, I +quarrelled with her about it." + +"Ah, well. Her troubles need not affect Phyllis and you, except to give +you warning. And take my advice. Never interfere between husband and +wife. However good your motive, ill is sure to come of it." + +In the growing dusk Sir William Browne did not note his companion's +embarrassment in discussing this topic. Mensmore was essentially an +honorable man, and he detested the necessity which forced him to permit +false inferences to be drawn from his words. Yet there was no help for +it. He was compelled to suffer for the faults of another. + +It was relief when the dressing-bell for dinner allowed him to escape to +his cabin. + +There was quite a large gathering for dinner. Places like Genoa contain +a number of highly interesting personages if the visitor discovers them. +The British race produces a richer variety of human flotsam and jetsam +than any other. These derelicts come to anchor in out-of-the-way parts +of the earth. They seem to have been everywhere and have done +everything, while the whole world is an open book to them. + +Thus there was no lack of variety in the conversation, and, as usual in +such assemblies, it dealt more with persons than with incidents. + +Phyllis had arranged the guests, so it may be taken for granted that her +lover was near her--in fact, he sat exactly opposite. The lady he took +in to dinner was the wife of an English doctor, and the British consul +at the port was Miss Browne's table companion. + +The consul was a chatty man, who kept himself well informed concerning +society events. + +"By the way," he said to Phyllis, "did you ever meet Lady Dyke?" + +"No, her name is not familiar to me." + +"Do you mean the wife of Sir Charles Dyke?" said Mensmore; and the +sudden interest he evinced caused Phyllis to glance at him wonderingly. + +"Yes, that is she." + +"I know Sir Charles well. What is there new about his wife?" + +"She is dead." + +"Good Heavens! Dead! When, and how?" + +Mensmore was so obviously agitated that others present noticed it, and +Phyllis marvelled much that in all their confidence the name of Dyke had +never escaped his lips. + +The consul, too, was a little nonplussed by the sensation caused by his +words. + +"I fear," he said, "that I have blurted out the fact rather unguardedly. +The Dykes are friends of yours?" + +"No, no, not in that sense. Sir Charles I have known for many years. But +are you sure his wife is dead?" + +"My authority is an announcement in the _Times_ to hand by to-day's +post. I should not have mentioned it were not her ladyship so well known +in society, and the affair is peculiar, to say the least." + +"Peculiar--how?" + +In his all-absorbing interest in the consul's statement, Mensmore paid +no heed to the curious looks directed at him; he had become very pale, +and was more excited in manner than the circumstances appeared to +warrant. + +"In this sense: The paper is the issue of January 28, yet the notice +says that Lady Dyke died on November 6. This is odd, is it not? A woman +of her position could hardly have quitted life so quietly that no one +would trouble to publish the fact until nearly three months after the +event." + +"It is extraordinary--inexplicable!" + +"Did you know Lady Dyke personally, Bertie?" put in Phyllis timorously. + +The question restored Mensmore to some sense of his surroundings. + +"I have never even seen her," he said, trying desperately to be +commonplace; "but her husband is an old schoolfellow of mine, and I +have heard much of both of them since their marriage. I am quite shocked +by the news." + +"I can only repeat my regret for having spoken of it so carelessly," +said the polite consul. + +"Oh, I am glad to know of it since it has happened. Poor Lady Dyke! How +strange that she should die!" + +Phyllis had the tact to change the conversation, and Mensmore gradually +recovered his self-possession. A woman's eyes are keener than a man +often gives her credit for; and Phyllis saw quite plainly that after the +first effect of the news had passed it, in some indefinable way, seemed +to have a good effect on her lover. But if a woman's intuition is seldom +at fault her reasoning faculties are narrow. + +Trying to arrive at a solution of the mystery attending Mensmore's +behavior, Phyllis suddenly became hot all over. + +She felt furiously and inordinately jealous of a woman she did not know, +and who was admittedly dead before Mensmore and she herself had met. + +Hence her nose went high in the air when Bertie claimed her for the +first dance. + +"Who is this Lady Dyke in whom you are so deeply interested?" she said, +drawing him beneath a sheltering awning. + +"As I said," replied Mensmore, "she is the wife of an old acquaintance +of mine." + +"But you must have been very fond of her to feel so keenly when you +heard of her death?" + +"Fond of her! I have never, to my knowledge, laid eyes on her." + +"Oh!" And the tone was somewhat mollified. "Then why did you look so +worried during dinner?" + +"Simply because I know Sir Charles." + +"What a dear, sympathetic little boy you are! When I die, Bertie, I +suppose you will drop down stiff from grief at once." + +"Don't talk nonsense. We are missing all this delightful music." + +And they whirled away down the snowy deck, forgetful of all things save +one, that they were in love. + +Now, what a pity it was that Bruce was not on board the _White Heather_ +that night. Many complications, and not a little misery, would have been +avoided thereby. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +WHERE MRS. HILLMER WENT + + +Sir Charles Dyke, in sending off the hurried announcement of his wife's +death, forgot the "society" papers. + +Such a promising topic did not come in their way every week, and they +made the most of it. Where did Lady Dyke die? Under what circumstances +did she die? They rolled the morsel under their tongue in every +conceivable manner. + +Details were not forthcoming. + +"Our representative called at Wensley House, Portman Square, but was +informed that Sir Charles was in Yorkshire." Inquiry by a local reporter +from Sir Charles in person elicited no information. "Lady Dyke is dead," +wrote this enterprising journalist; "of that there can be no manner of +doubt, but her husband states that for family reasons he is unable to +supply the public with the precise facts concerning his wife's demise." + +This ill-advised authentic statement only fanned the flame. An evening +journal got hold of the proceedings at the Putney Coroner's Court which +inquired into the death of a woman found in the Thames, and, with a +portentous display of headlines, published an interview with the doctor +giving particulars of the iron spike found imbedded in the skull. + +The paper was also able to state "on the best authority" that at this +inquest Sir Charles Dyke and the missing lady's personal maid were +called in to identify the body, but failed. + +A first-class sensation was in full swing and threatened to reach the +question stage in the House of Commons when Bruce took hold of affairs. + +He went to Sir Charles Dyke's solicitors, and induced them to send out +the following authoritative communication to the press: + + "Much unnecessary pain is being caused to Sir Charles Dyke and + to the relatives of his late wife by the comments which have + appeared in many newspapers regarding Lady Dyke's death. Her + ladyship left her home on November 6th to pay a visit to her + sister at Richmond, and since that date has not been seen or + heard of. There was no possible reason for her disappearance. + After a long and agonizing search, her husband and relatives + have come to the conclusion that she met with some accident on + the date named, with the result that her identity was not + established, and she was probably buried from some hospital or + other institution long before her friends seriously entertained + the thought that she was dead. Every such case of accidental + death followed by the interment of unknown persons by the + authorities, occurring on or about November 6th, has since been + rigidly investigated, but no definite trace has been found of + the missing lady. Sir Charles Dyke determined to take the public + step of announcing his wife's death in the hope that any + hitherto undiscovered clue might thereby come to light. But + there are no grounds to suppose that any other explanation of + the occurrence than that given will be forthcoming. The + investigation has been in the hands of Scotland Yard throughout, + so no good purpose can be served by further discussion in the + press of what is now, and threatens to remain, a mystery + rendered more complex by the simplicity of its leading + features." + +Several newspapers, of course, pointed out that they were helping +forward the inquiry by noising it abroad, but thenceforth the paragraphs +ceased, being eclipsed in interest by the revelations of a great divorce +case in which there were no less than six titled co-respondents. + +One man was much puzzled by the original obituary notice and the +semi-official statement supplied by the solicitors. + +Mr. White did not know what to make of them. He guessed that Bruce had +inspired that "explanation," and he read the concluding sentence many +times. + +"It threatens to remain a mystery, does it not?" he murmured. "Just +wait, Mr. Bruce, until I lay my hands on Corbett. Clever as you are, I +think I will show you that Scotland Yard can occasionally get the better +of your theories. Anyhow, Corbett will have to be very explicit about +his movements before I am satisfied that he knows nothing about this +business." + +He had written to the Chief of Police at Cheyenne, and something +definite would soon come to hand. + +Nevertheless, he felt somewhat shaken in his diagnosis of the crime. +Wyoming was a long way from London, and the letter from Corbett, which +he had in his possession, did not exactly confirm his suspicion that +this man was concerned in the murder of Lady Dyke. + +He quickly became aware of Mrs. Hillmer's departure, and at once jumped +to the conclusion that she had recently left England for the United +States. A close scrutiny of the passenger lists at Liverpool and +Southampton did not help him much, and he ultimately resolved to call on +Bruce, in the hope that a chance exclamation might reveal the +barrister's opinion of the situation. + +Claude was not at a loss to account for Mr. White's presence. + +"I expected you," he said. + +"Really now, may I ask why, sir?" + +"Because you have missed Mrs. Hillmer, and you want me to help you find +where she has gone, and why." + +The detective smiled. + +"I won't say that you are wrong, sir," he cried. "In these affairs it is +always well to keep an eye on the woman, you know." + +"When did Mrs. Hillmer leave Raleigh Mansions?" + +"On the 30th." + +"It is now February 3. Four days ago, eh?" + +"That is the time. She might have left by the American line from +Southampton or the Cunard from Liverpool on Wednesday, but she did not, +and no one answering to her description is booked by the White Star +to-morrow." + +"Southampton! Liverpool! Do you think she has gone to America?" + +"Where else? She's in league with Corbett, somehow, of that I am +certain, and I think that the Monte Carlo address was a mere blind--a +clever one, too, as it even deceived you, Mr. Bruce." + +"Yes. It did deceive me." + +"Then why are you so surprised at the suggestion that the lady should +attempt to cross the Atlantic?" + +"Because I have not your rapid perception of the points of the case." + +"That's your way of pulling my leg, Mr. Bruce." + +The barrister smiled. + +Mrs. Hillmer, of course, had gone to Monte Carlo. Once there she would +have little difficulty in tracing the _White Heather_, and overtaking +Mensmore. + +She would warn him of the police pursuit, and there would be a scene +between them. + +How would it result? Would Mensmore, guilty, seek safety in flight? +Would he, innocent, return to London and demand to be confronted with +his accusers? + +For the life of him, Bruce could not say positively. Yet he felt the +situation was too delicate to be dealt with by Mr. White's bludgeon +methods, and he forebore to speak. + +The detective interpreted his silence as an admission of inability to +find a satisfactory explanation of Mrs. Hillmer's absence. + +He went on: + +"Corbett is not at Monte Carlo." + +"So I imagined." + +"Well, it is a fact. The police have made constant inquiries for him at +the Hotel du Cercle and elsewhere. Not the slightest trace of him can be +found." + +"I was there myself, you know." + +"Yes, sir. I have not forgotten that. But it shows what a clever rascal +the fellow is in concealing his identity. However, he could never have +counted on my discovering that letter of his. Even if he is not in +America we shall have some reliable data to go upon in answer to my +queries." + +"There I fully agree with you. You will have done a great deal if you +thoroughly clear up the mystery regarding Corbett. May I ask you to let +me know the result?" + +"With pleasure, sir. And now, can I request a favor in return?" + +"Certainly." + +"Tell me, then, what is, in your opinion, the best way to find Mrs. +Hillmer." + +Bruce did not expect to be thus openly challenged on the matter. It was +one thing to withhold his own theories and discoveries from this +representative of the majesty of the law, but quite another to refuse to +help a detective with whom he was nominally working. + +Besides, Mrs. Hillmer had four days' start. It would take some +time--possibly a telegram would not be sufficiently explicit--to obtain +the desired assistance from the Continental police. Yes--in this +instance, Mensmore must take his chances. + +"If I were you," said Bruce, slowly weighing his words, "I would inquire +at the Continental booking-offices at Victoria and Charing Cross, and +from the guards in charge of the morning mail trains on the 30th. In +fact, it would be quite safe if you were to wire the authorities at +Monte Carlo, asking if Mrs. Hillmer is not now at the Hotel du Cercle." + +The detective started as though he had been shot. + +"What!" he cried, "you think she is there all the time?" + +"I think she has been there since Wednesday morning." + +"That is what I mean. Why did you not tell me sooner?" + +"Because you never asked me. And now, Mr. White, one word of advice. Go +slow." + +"It's all jolly fine telling me to go slow when I have no reason to go +fast. The case even against Corbett is shadowy enough at present." + +"Exactly. Wait until you can grasp a substance." + +"I will, sir," said White, jamming his hat on; "but when I lay my hands +on Corbett I will grasp him hard enough." + +It took the policeman all that day to satisfy himself that Mrs. Hillmer +had really booked for the Riviera by the Club train from Charing Cross +on the preceding Monday. + +Just as he verified the fact, came a reply from the Monte Carlo police: + + "Mrs. Hillmer arrived at the Hotel du Cercle on Wednesday. Left + for Italy same afternoon. Shall we endeavor to trace her?" + +"Oh, bother," he growled. "Corbett may be in Jerusalem by this time. And +here have I been fussing about Wyoming or some other potato-patch in the +Far West." + +However, he wired again to Monte Carlo: + + "Yes. Locate Mrs. Hillmer, if possible. I will then telegraph + instructions to local police." + +When this message was despatched he felt easier in his mind. + +The chase was at least getting warm. + +"I cannot arrest him yet," he reflected; "but if I once get fairly on +his track, I will not lose sight of him again if I can help it. I +suppose it will mean a trip to Italy for me. I must lay the evidence +before the Treasury to see if a warrant is justified." + +Two days passed without incident. + +Late on Sunday evening, February 5, a Continental telegram was handed to +him at Scotland Yard: + + "Mrs. Hillmer's present address, Hotel Imperiale, Florence." + +He promptly wired the Chief of Police at Florence: + + "Keep Mrs. Hillmer, English visitor, Hotel Imperiale, under + surveillance. Also watch her associates, particularly + Englishman named Corbett, if there. Letter follows." + +"That's a good stroke of business," said he, when the message was sent. +"Now we shan't be long!" + +It was in contented mood that he lit a cigar in his office, before +walking home for dinner, but a messenger with the badge of the +Commercial Cable Company in Northumberland Avenue bustled past him. + +"Who's the cable for, boy?" said the detective. + +"White, Scotland Yard," was the answer. + +"That's me." + +He tore open the envelope, and found that the contents were coded, but +he caught the word "Corbett" amidst the unintelligible jumble. + +With some excitement he rushed into the office to find the A B C Code, +and after some confusion in deciphering the words, this was what he +read: + + "Regret delay in replying to your communication. Corbett left + New York in _White Star_ steamer due Liverpool, February 4." + +"February 4? Why, that's yesterday. Good gracious, he's here all the +time. Well, of all the--" + +But exclamations were useless. Calling another plain-clothes man to +accompany him, he drove off in mad haste to Sloane Square. + +About an hour later Bruce received a typewritten slip gummed on to a +telegraph form. It was from Florence, and ran as follows: + + "My brother wildly excited regarding allegations. We start for + London to-night. Meanwhile fearful complications expected. Mr. + Corbett, of Wyoming, my brother's friend, is probably occupying + his flat, and may be arrested. We both trust you to save him. + Wire us at Modane or Gare du Nord. + + "GWENDOLINE HILLMER." + +So Bruce also raced off in a hansom towards Sloane Square. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +MR. SYDNEY H. CORBETT + + +The detective glanced up at Bruce's chambers while passing through +Victoria Street. + +"I wonder what he would think if he knew what we are after," he said to +his colleague, one of the two who accompanied him when the barrister was +arrested by mistake. + +"What _are_ we after?" said the policeman. + +"This time we are going to nail the right Corbett," was the confident +answer. + +"Will we cart him off?" + +"Well, now, that depends. I think I am quite right in collaring him +unless he explains to my satisfaction, which is hardly likely." + +"The charge is one of murder, isn't it?" + +"Yes." + +"Who did he kill?" + +"Well, up to now it hasn't come out, for the sake of the family. But if +Corbett is here you will know soon enough." + +"It's a funny way to go to work." + +"Commissioner's orders, my boy. I am not to reveal the la-- the name +until it cannot be helped. However, as I have said so much, I don't mind +telling you it's a woman, and a big one too." + +"Big! Fat, do you mean?" + +"No. A woman of high position." + +"Phew! A regular society scandal, I suppose?" + +"That's about the size of it." + +On arrival at Sloane Square they quickly ascended to No. 12 Raleigh +Mansions. + +A stout, elderly woman answered their knock, and a glance at her face +revealed the map of Ireland, although her name was Saxon Robinson. + +"Mr. Corbett in?" inquired White. + +"Faix, he's not." + +"Then where is he?" + +"I don't know, misther, an' if I did I wouldn't be afther telling when +axed in an oncivil manner." + +"All right, Mrs. ----" + +"Robinson's my name, if that's anny use to ye." + +"Very well, Mrs. Robinson. We wish to have a word with Mr. Corbett, and +we will be much obliged if you can tell us when he is likely to return, +if he is in London." + +"Arrah, it's meself is mixed intirely about him. Sure _this_ Mr. Corbett +is in London right enough, and is comin' in to dinner in half-an-hour, +so by yer lave I'll jist go on wid me wurruk." + +"May we come in and wait for him?" + +Mrs. Robinson surveyed them suspiciously, but seemingly decided in their +favor. + +"Stip in here, gintlemen both," she said, and conducted them to the +sitting-room. + +A fire now burned brightly in the grate wherein Bruce had made his +pregnant discovery. The damaged bracket still stared at White, so to +speak, but he saw it not. + +Mrs. Robinson bustled away to the kitchen, and the two officers sat +silently waiting developments. Suddenly a thought occurred to White, and +he went into the passage. + +"Mrs. Robinson," he said, "what did you mean by referring to _this_ Mr. +Corbett?" + +A quick step came bounding up the stairs, and a key rattled in the lock. + +"You'd betther ax him yerself," responded the housekeeper pithily, and +the door opened to admit a handsome, well-knit man, tall and straight, +with the clearly cut features of the true Westerner, and the easy +carriage of one accustomed to the freedom of the prairie. + +He was quietly dressed. The only sign that he was not a Londoner was +given by his wide-awake felt hat, the last token of environment +relinquished by a wandering citizen from the region of the Rockies. In +the semi-darkness of the interior he could but dimly discern the form of +the detective behind the ready-tongued housekeeper. + +"There's two gintlemen to see ye, Misther Corbett," said she. + +"Well, now, that's curious," he answered cheerfully. "I can only see one +of you, but I'm glad to have you call, stranger, anyway. Come right in. +Are you sent by my friend to kinder cheer me up? I find this big city of +yours a powerful kind of tonic after Wyoming. Come right in." + +Mr. White was as greatly nonplussed by the newcomer's attitude as by his +flow of language. + +Within the drawing-room Corbett caught sight of the second detective. +"Hello! Here's the other one. Ve-ry glad to meet you both. Now, if +you'll just tell me your names we'll get along straight away, as I guess +you know mine all right." + +The man was genuinely pleased by this unexpected visit. He smilingly +pushed towards them a box of cigars, green ones, and helped himself to a +weed. + +"My name," said the detective, "is Inspector White, of Scotland Yard, +and my friend here accompanies me officially." + +"And hasn't he got a name?" + +"Yes; but it doesn't matter." + +"Well, if it doesn't matter, we won't quarrel. I guess you've got a +message of some sort for me, else you wouldn't trouble to climb these +stairs. Why don't you have el-e-vators in these big buildings?" + +"As I said," began Mr. White, "we are from Scotland Yard." + +"That's so. I've got that fixed O.K. Your name is I. White, from +Scotland Yard. I don't know where Scotland Yard is, but we'll worry +along without the geography of it." + +"I am in the police. My title is Inspector. It is not my Christian name. +Scotland Yard is the headquarters of the London police." + +The American's eyes opened wide in wonder at this announcement, and a +perplexing thought seemed to occur to him. But he said quietly: + +"I'll figure it out better when you tell me why you've been good enough +to call. And suppose we all sit down. I'm not used to stone pavements. +I'm tired." + +"Your name is Sydney H. Corbett?" said the detective severely, though he +took a chair. + +"So my people always told me." + +"And you have occupied these chambers since August last?" + +"Have I?" + +"So I am informed." + +"Get along with your story." + +"You have just returned to England from Wyoming. The New York police +cabled me that you arrived in Liverpool yesterday." + +"Did they now? That was real cute of 'em." + +"I want to ask you, in the first instance, the exact date of your +departure from this country." + +Before replying to the detective Corbett looked at him fixedly, as +though he was trying to read what was passing in his mind. + +At last he said with a smile: + +"Say, what are you after, Mr. White of Scotland Yard? What's the game? +Who's been fooling you?" + +"That is not the way to talk to me, sir. Answer my question fully and +properly, or it may be worse for you." + +"Jehosh! Have you come to wipe the floor with me?" + +"Are you going to reply to me or not?" + +"I'm not going to speak square to any man who comes along and puts a +thing like you do." + +"Very well. I can get my information by other means. You leave me no +alternative--" + +Mr. White had half risen and was about to add, "but to arrest you," +when, with a rapidity known only to those accustomed to "draw" from +boyhood, Corbett whipped a revolver from a hip pocket and covered the +bridge of White's nose with the muzzle. + +"Just you sit still, right there, Mr. White of Scotland Yard, or I will +let daylight through you and your nameless friend if he interferes. +You'd better believe me. By gad! I won't speak twice." + +Neither White nor his companion were cowards. But they were quite +helpless. They had not grappled with the circumstances with sufficient +alertness, and they were utterly at this man's mercy. They were away +from the door, and a table separated them from Corbett, while there was +that in his eye which told them he would shoot if either of them moved. +They both sprang to their feet, and glared at him impotently. + +"Now, gentlemen," said Corbett, with the utmost coolness, "let me +persuade you to sit down again and go on with your story, which +interests me." + +White was scarlet with wrath and annoyance. + +"Let me tell you--" he roared. + +"Sit down!" + +"Make the best of it, Jim," murmured the other policeman; and the queer +gathering resumed their seats. + +"That's better," said Corbett genially. "Now, we'll have a nice little +chat. Am I correct in supposing that you were about to march me off to +jail just now, when I spoilt the proposition?" + +"There's no use in resisting," growled White. "You cannot escape. If you +have an atom of sense left you will come with us quietly, as it's all up +with you." + +"It looks like it," said Corbett, with a grim smile. "But if it's so bad +a case as all that, there's no desperate hurry, is there?" + +"You're only making matters more difficult for yourself." + +"Maybe. But as I happen to be a citizen of the United States, I allow +that I can't be whipped off to prison just because a fool like you +thinks it's good for me. I've been a law-abiding man all my life, and +I've lived in places where each man made his own law. If you can show +good cause for your action, I'll stand the racket. At present I regard +you as a blamed idiot." + +The situation overcame the detective. He could only mutter: + +"Time will show who's the idiot." + +"I'm getting hungry, Mr. White of Scotland Yard, and I've a kind of +notion that the old lady is ready with the eatables. Will you be good +enough to say what you're after?" + +"I came here to ask you to account for your movements, and, failing a +satisfactory explanation, to arrest you." + +"On what charge?" + +"For being concerned in the murder of Lady Dyke, on or about November 6 +last." + +"Lady Dyke?" + +"Yes." + +"Arrest _me_?" + +"Yes." + +"I placed you right away. You are a blamed idiot, Mr. White of Scotland +Yard." + +This repetition of his name and address goaded the detective almost +beyond endurance. + +"Now you know the charge," he shouted, "are you coming with us quietly, +or--" + +"Or what?" + +The revolver still hovered across the table. + +"Are we going to sit here all night?" + +It was a weak conclusion, but to suggest an attack was sheer madness +under the conditions. + +"I guess not," was the calm answer. "I want my dinner, and I mean to +have it." + +"Very well. Eat your dinner and have done with it." + +"That's better. You and your friend shall join me. We'll have a nice +little talk and straighten out matters, which have got kinder mixed." + +This was too much for White's associate. He burst out laughing. + +"I allowed there was a joke in the deal, somewhere," went on Corbett, +"but I haven't quite got the hang of it yet. Now, Mr. White of Scotland +Yard, are you going to act like a reasonable man, or must I keep your +nose in line with the barrel?" + +White was saved from deciding which horn of the dilemma he would land +on, for a sharp rat-tat at the door induced silence, and a moment later +Bruce's voice was heard inquiring: + +"Is Mr. Corbett in?" + +"Faix, there may be a half-a-dozen of him in by this time," cried Mrs. +Robinson. "I dunno where I am, at all, at all. The gintlemen are in the +parlor, sir." + +And Bruce entered. + +In order to enfilade the new-comer scientifically, Corbett backed to the +corner. Claude glanced at the three, saw the revolver, and said with a +comical air of relief: + +"Thank goodness, nothing has happened. Put away your pistol, Mr. +Corbett; you will not need it." + +Although the barrister's manner differed considerably from the brusque +methods adopted by Mr. White, the American remained on his guard. He +said stiffly: + +"You all seem to know me fairly well; but if you had the advantage of +closer acquaintance, you would allow that I am not the man to be rushed +on a confidence trick. If somebody doesn't explain quick I will lose my +temper, and there will be trouble." + +"I sympathize with you!" cried Bruce. "But the first thing you must +learn in this country is to keep dry cigars for your visitors. Our +respective tastes differ in that respect." + +"I guess I'll cotton to you, stranger; but I'm tired holding this +pistol." + +"Put it away, then. I tell you it is not wanted. White, listen to me. +You have hit upon the wrong man." + +"Wrong man!" cried the detective, feeling more confident in the +barrister's presence. "Why, I've had a cable about him from New York." + +"Possibly; but you're mistaken, nevertheless. Mr. Corbett has not been +within five thousand miles of England for years, possibly not in his +life." + +"Bully for you, stranger!" broke in Corbett. + +"Then who is Mr. Sydney H. Corbett whom you believe, as well as I, to be +the murderer of Lady Dyke?" + +"Steady, White. The last time I saw you I appealed to you to go slow. +The man whom you want, simply because he happens to be the real occupant +of these rooms, is at present travelling to London as fast he can from +Florence, and his sister, Mrs. Hillmer, is with him." + +"Florence! Mrs. Hillmer!" gasped the policeman. "I've just arranged to +have her watched there." + +"Your arrangements, though admirable, are somewhat late in the day." + +"Then what is her brother's name?" + +"Albert Mensmore. For some reason, hidden at this moment, he lived here +under the name of the gentleman who has, I see, been giving you a +practical lesson in the art of not jumping at conclusions." + +"Have you known this long?" + +"For some weeks." + +"Then why didn't you tell me?" + +"Because I have no definite reason for connecting Mensmore with Lady +Dyke's death. If I had, his action in returning to London the moment he +hears of the charge would shake my belief." + +"Who told him?" + +"Mrs. Hillmer." + +"Oh, this business is quite beyond me. I can't fathom it a little bit." + +And White sank dejectedly to his chair again. + +"I don't know what you're talking about, gentlemen," said Corbett, +pocketing his revolver; "but it dawns upon me that I shan't be required +to shoot anybody or sleep in jail to-night." + +"Why didn't you answer my questions properly, and save all this +nonsense?" + +"I'll tell you why, sir. The name of a friend of mine has been +mentioned. Albert Mensmore has been more than a brother to me. I allowed +you meant mischief to him, as you thought you were talking to him all +the time. I don't know much about you, but I hope that your first action +would not be to give away your chum if he is in trouble." + +The detective did not answer, though his look of astonishment at +Corbett's declaration of motive was eloquent enough. + +"Before we quit this business," went on the American, "let me say one +thing. Any man who tells you that Albert Mensmore murdered a woman is +telling you a lie. I don't know anything about this Lady Dyke, or how +she may have died, but I do know my friend. He's good in a tight place, +but, to think of him killing a woman--Jehosh, it's sickening." + +Mrs. Robinson burst in, with face aflame. + +"Is this palaverin' to go on all night?" she demanded angrily. "Here's +the dinner sphilin', after all me worry and bother, with the head of me +vexed to know who is the masther and who ishn't." + +"All right, mother," laughed Corbett. "Bring in the whole caboodle." + +"Mr. Corbett," said Bruce, "I hope you will come and have lunch with me +to-morrow, at this address," handing him a card. "I want to have a long +talk with you. Mr. White, if you come with me I will explain a good deal +to you of which you are now in ignorance." + +"Surely, Mr. Corbett will answer a few questions first," said the +detective. + +"Don't you think you have troubled him sufficiently for this evening? +Besides, he can tell us nothing. All the explanation is really due to +him, and I propose to give it to him to-morrow. Come, White, this time I +promise you that a considerable portion of your inquiry shall be cleared +up, and I do not speak without foundation, as you have often learned +hitherto." + +So the mysterious Sydney H. Corbett was left in undisturbed possession +of his flat and his dinner, while the trio passed out into the quietude +of the streets. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +HOW LADY DYKE LEFT RALEIGH MANSIONS + + +Mr. White was actually inclined to preserve silence while they walked to +Victoria Street. The events of the preceding hour had not exactly +conduced to the maintenance, in the eyes of his brother officer, of that +pre-eminent sagacity which he invariably claimed. + +His companion rubbed in this phase of the matter by saying: "I should +think, Jim, you will give Raleigh Mansions wide berth for some time to +come, after making two bad breaks there." + +But it was no part of Bruce's scheme that the detective should be +rendered desperate by repeated failures. "It is not Mr. White's fault," +he said, "that these errors have occurred. They are rather the result of +his pertinacity in leaving no clue unsolved which promises to lead to +success. When this case ends, if ever it does end, I feel sure he will +admit that he has never before encountered so much difficulty in +unravelling the most complex problems within his experience." + +"That is so," chimed in the senior detective. "The thing that beats me +in this affair is the want of a beginning, so to speak. One would +imagine it the work of a lunatic if Lady Dyke herself had not +contributed so curiously to the mystery of her disappearance." + +"There you are, White; that is the true scent. Find the motive and we +find the murderer, if Lady Dyke was wilfully put to death." + +"_If_ she was, Mr. Bruce? Have you any doubt about it?" + +"There cannot be certainty when we are groping in the dark. But the +gloom is passing; we are on the eve of a discovery." + +At Bruce's residence White's colleague left him. Soon the barrister and +the policeman were sitting snugly before a good fire. + +There Claude took him step by step through each branch of his inquiry as +it is known to the reader. + +He omitted nothing. The discovery of Jane Harding and of Mensmore, the +latter's transactions with Dodge & Co., his dramatic _coup_ at Monte +Carlo and its attendant love episode--all these were exhaustively +described. He enlarged upon Mrs. Hillmer's anxiety when the tragedy +became known to her, and did not forget Sir Charles Dyke's amazement at +the suggestion that his old playmate might prove to be responsible for +the death of his wife. + +He produced the waxen moulds of the piece of iron found on the body at +Putney, and the ornamental scroll from which it had been taken. + +At this bit of evidence Mr. White's complacency forsook him. Thus far he +had experienced a feeling of resentment against Bruce for having +concealed from him so much that was material to their investigation. + +But when he realized that a powerful link in the chain of events had all +along been placidly resting before his eyes his distress was evident, +and the barrister came to his rescue. + +"You are not to blame, White," he said, "for having failed to note many +things which I have now told you. You are the slave of a system. Your +method works admirably for the detection of commonplace crime, but as +soon as the higher region of romance is reached it is as much out of +place as a steam-roller in a lady's boudoir. Look at the remarkable +series of crimes the English police have failed to solve of late, merely +because some _bizarre_ element had intruded itself at the outset. Have +you ever read any of the works of Edgar Allan Poe?" + +The detective answered in the affirmative. "The Murders of the Rue +Morgue" and "The Mystery of Marie Roget" were familiar to him. + +"Well," went on Bruce, "there you have the accurate samples of my +meaning. Poe would not have been puzzled for an hour by the vagaries of +Jack the Ripper. He would have said at once--most certainly after the +third or fourth in the series of murders--'This is the work of an +athletic lunatic, with a morbid love of anatomy and a morbid hatred of a +certain class of women. Seek for him among young men who have pestered +doctors with outrageous theories, and who possess weak-minded or +imbecile relatives.' Then, again, take the murder on the South-Western +Railway. Do you think Poe would have gone questioning bar-tenders or +inquiring into abortive love affairs? Not he! Jealous swains do not +carry pestles about with them to slay their sweethearts, nor do they +choose a four-minutes' interval between suburban stations for frenzied +avowals of their passion. Here you have the clear trail of a clever +lunatic, dropping from the skies, as it were, and disappearing in the +same erratic manner. That is why I tell you most emphatically that +neither you nor I have yet the remotest conception as to who really +killed Lady Dyke." + +"Surely things look black now against this Mensmore?" + +"Do they? How would it have fared with an acquaintance of one of the +unfortunate women killed by Jack the Ripper had the police found him in +the locality with fresh blood-stains on his clothes? What would have +resulted from the discovery of a chemist's mortar among the possessions +of one of Elizabeth Camp's male friends? Come now, be honest, and tell +me." + +But Mr. White could only smoke in silence. + +"Therefore," continued Bruce, "let us ask ourselves why, and how, it was +possible for Mensmore to commit the crime. Personally, notwithstanding +all that we apparently know against him circumstantially, I should +hardly believe Mensmore if he confessed himself to be the murderer!" + +"Now, why on earth do you say that, Mr. Bruce?" + +"Because Mensmore is normal and this crime abnormal. Because the man who +would blow out his brains on account of losses at pigeon-shooting never +had brains enough to dispose of the body in such fashion. Because +Mensmore, having temporarily changed his name for some trivial reason, +would never resume it with equal triviality with this shadow upon his +life." + +"Then why have you told me all these things that tell so heavily against +him?" + +"In order that, this time at least, you may feel that the production of +a pair of handcuffs does not satisfactorily settle the entire business." + +"I promise there shall be no more arrests until this affair is much more +decided than it is at present." + +"Good. I shall make a detective of you after my own heart in time." + +"Yet I cannot help being surprised at the very strange fact that his own +sister should seem to suspect him!" + +"Ah! Now you have struck the true line. Why did she have that fear? +There I am with you entirely. Let us ascertain that and I promise you an +important development. Mrs. Hillmer and Mensmore are both concerned in +the disappearance of Lady Dyke, yet neither knew that she had +disappeared, and both are deeply upset by it, for Mrs. Hillmer flies off +to warn her brother, and the brother posts back to London the moment it +comes to his ears through her. There, you see, we have a key which may +unlock many doors. For Heaven's sake let it not be battered out of shape +the instant it reaches our hands." + +But Mr. White was quite humble. "As I have told you," he said, "I have +done with the battering process." + +"I am sure of it. And now listen to the most remarkable fact that has +yet come to light. Lady Dyke's body was taken from Raleigh Mansions to +Putney in a four-wheeler. The cabman was forthwith locked up by the +police and clapped into prison for three months. He was released +yesterday, and will be here within the next quarter of an hour." + +The detective's hair nearly rose on end at this statement. + +"Look here, Mr. Bruce!" he cried, "have you any more startlers up your +sleeve, or is that the finish?" + +"That is the last shot in my locker." + +"I'm jolly glad! I half expected the next thing you would say was that +you did the job yourself." + +"It wouldn't be the first time you thought that; eh, my friend?" + +White positively blushed. + +"Oh! that's chaff," he said. "But why the dickens did the police lock up +this cabman--the only witness we could lay our hands upon? Why, I myself +questioned every cabman in the vicinity several times." + +"Because he got drunk on the proceeds of the journey, and subsequently +thought he was Phaeton driving the chariot of the sun. But, there, he +will tell you himself. I met him yesterday morning outside Holloway +Jail, and persuaded him to come here to-night, provided he has not gone +on the spree again with disastrous results." + +The entrance of Smith--obviously relieved to see his master and the +"tec" on such good terms--to announce the arrival of "Mr. William +Marsh," settled any doubts as to the cabman's intentions, and his +appearance established the fact of his sobriety. Three months "hard" had +made the cab-driver a new man. + +Recognition was mutual between him and Mr. White. + +"Hello, Foxey," cried the latter. "It's you, is it?" + +"Me it is, guv'nor; but I didn't know there was to be a 'cop' +here"--this with a suspicious glance at Bruce and a backward movement +towards the door. + +"Do not be alarmed," said the barrister; "this gentleman's presence +implies no trouble for you. We want you to help us, and if you do so +willingly I will make up that lost fiver you received for driving two +people to Putney the night you were arrested." + +The poor old cabman became very confused on hearing this staggering +remark. Up to that moment he regarded Bruce as the agent for a +charitable association, and there was no harm, he told his "missus," in +trying to "knock him for a bit." + +He stood nervously fumbling with his hat, but did not answer. White knew +how to deal with him. + +"Sit down, Foxey, and have a drink. You need one to cheer you up. Answer +this gentleman's questions. He means you no harm." + +"Honor bright?" + +"Honor bright." + +"Well, I don't mind if I do. No soda, thank you, sir. Just a small drop +of water. Ah, that's better stuff 'n they keep in Holloway." + +Thus fortified, Marsh had no hesitation in telling them what he knew. +Substantially, his story was identical with the version given to Bruce +by the ticket collector. + +"Can you describe the gentleman?" said the barrister. + +"No, sir. He was just like any other swell. Tall and well-dressed, and +talked in the 'aw-'aw style. It might ha' been yerself for all I could +tell." + +"Do you think it was I?" + +Foxey scratched his head. + +"No, p'r'aps it wasn't, now I come to rec'llect. He 'ad a moustache, and +you 'aven't. Beggin' yer pardon, sir, but you 'ave a bit of the cut of a +parson or a hactor, an' this chap wasn't neither--just an every-day sort +of toff." + +"Could you swear to him if you saw him?" + +"That I couldn't, sir. I am a rare 'and at langwidge, but I couldn't +manage that." + +"Why?" + +"Because that night, sir, I were as full as a tick when I started. Lord +love you, it must 'ave poured out of me afterwards when I started +fightin' coppers. Mr. White, 'e knows, I ain't no fightin' man as a +rule." + +"And the _lady_? Did you see her?" + +"No, sir. Leastways, I seed a bundle which I took to be a lydy, but her +face was covered up with a shawl, and she was lyin' 'eavy in 'is arms +as though she was mortal bad. He tell'd me she was sick." + +"Did he? Anything else?" + +"No, sir." + +"Are you sure it was a shawl?" + +A vacuous smile spread over Foxey's countenance as he answered, "I ain't +sure of anythink that 'appened that night." + +"But were you not surprised when a man hired your cab under such +peculiar circumstances, and paid you such a high fare?" + +"We four-wheelers are surprised at nothink, sir. You don't know all wot +goes on in kebs. Why, once crossin' Waterloo Bridge--" + +"Never mind Waterloo Bridge, Foxey," put in the detective. "Keep your +wits fixed on as much as you can remember of November 6." + +"Where did he tell you to drive to?" went on Bruce. + +"Just Putney. I was to drive my 'ardest. I recollect wantin' to pull up +at the Three Bells, but 'e put 'is 'ead out an' said, 'Go on, driver. I +am awfully late already.' So on I went." + +"Where did you stop?" + +"I don't know no more than the child unborn. By that time the drink was +yeastin' up in me. The fare kept me on the road 'e wanted by shoutin'. +When we pulled up, 'e carries 'er into a lane. There was a big 'ouse +there. I know that all right. After a bit 'e comes back and tips me a +fiver. With that I whips up the old 'oss and gets back to the Three +Bells. You know the rest, as the girl said when she axed the Bench to--" + +"Yes, we know the rest," interrupted Bruce, "but I fear you are not able +to help us much." + +"This isn't a five-pun' job, eh, guv'nor?" said Foxey anxiously. + +"Hardly at present. We shall see. Can you say exactly where you drew up +your cab when the lady was carried into it?" + +"Sure as death," replied the cabman, in the hope that his information +might yet be valuable. "It was outside Raleigh Mansions, Sloane Square." + +"We know that--" + +"It seems to me, sir, as ye know as much about the business as I do," +broke in Marsh. + +"Were you in the Square or in Sloane Street?" + +"In Sloane Street, of course. Right away from the Square." + +"Not so very far away, surely." + +Foxey was doubtful. His memory was hazy, and he feared lest he should be +mistaken. "No, no," he said quickly, "not far, but still well in the +street." + +"Were there many people about?" + +"You could 'ardly tell, sir; it was that foggy and nasty. If the lydy +'ad bin dead nobody would 'ave noticed 'er that night." + +"Did any one besides yourself see the gentleman carrying the lady into +the cab?" + +"I think not. I don't remember anybody passin' at the time." + +"Did the gentleman keep your cab waiting long at the kerb before he +brought the lady out?" + +"It might 'a' bin a minute or two?" + +"No longer?" + +"Well, sir, it's 'ard for me to say, especially after bein' away for a +change of 'ealth, so to speak." + +"Did not the lady speak or move in any manner?" + +"Not so far as I know, sir." + +"And do you mean to tell me that, although you had been drinking, you +were not astonished at the whole business?" + +"I never axes my fares any questions 'cept when they says 'By the hour.' +Then I wants to know a bit." + +"Yes; but this carrying of a lady out of a house in such fashion--did +not this strike you as strange?" + +"Strange, bless your 'eart, sir. You ought to see me cartin' 'em off +from the Daffodil Club after a big night--three and four in one keb, all +blind, paralytic." + +"No doubt; but this was not the Daffodil Club at daybreak. It was a +respectable neighborhood at seven o'clock, or thereabouts, on a winter's +evening." + +"It ain't my fault," said Foxey doggedly. "Wot was wrong with the lydy? +Was it a habduction?" + +"The lady was dead--murdered, we believe." + +The cabman's face grew livid with anxiety. + +"Oh, crikey, Mr. White," he cried, addressing the detective, "I knew +nothink about it." + +"No one says you did, Foxey," was the reply. "Don't be frightened. We +just want you to help us as far as you can, and not to get skeered and +lose your wits." + +Thus reassured, Marsh mopped his head and said solemnly: + +"I will do wot lies in my power, gentlemen both, but I wish I 'adn't bin +so blamed drunk that night." + +"You say you would not recognize your fare if you saw him," continued +Bruce. "Could you tell us, if you were shown a certain person, that he +was _not_ the man? You might not be sure of the right man, but you might +be sure regarding the wrong one." + +"Yes, sir. It wasn't you, and it wasn't Mr. White, and it wasn't a lot +of other people I know. I think if I saw the man who really got into my +keb, I would be able to swear that 'e was like him, at any rate." + +"All right. That will do for the present. Leave us your address, so that +we may find you again if necessary. Here is a sovereign for you." + +When Marsh had gone, Bruce turned to the detective. + +"Well," he said, "if Mensmore were here now, I suppose you would want to +lock him up." + +"No," admitted White sadly; "the more I learn about this affair the more +mixed it becomes. Still, I don't deny but I shall be glad to have +Mensmore's explanation of his movements at that time. And so will you, +Mr. Bruce." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +A WILFUL MURDER + + +Bruce sent a telegram to Mrs. Hillmer at Paris. "Matters satisfactorily +arranged pending your arrival," he wired, and early on Monday morning he +received a reply: + + "Due Charing Cross 7.30 P.M. Will drive straight to your + chambers with my brother. + + "GWENDOLINE HILLMER." + +He forwarded the message with a note to the detective, asking him to be +present. + +About one o'clock Corbett turned up. + +"Guess I slept well last night after the excitement," he said, with a +pleasant smile. "You seemed to skeer those chaps more with a few words, +Mr. Bruce, than I did with a revolver." + +"The English police are not so much afraid of revolvers as they are of +making mistakes," was the answer. + +"Now, is that so? On our side they wouldn't have stopped to argy. Both +of 'em would have drawn on me at once." + +"Then I am glad, for everybody's sake, Mr. Corbett, that the affair +happened in London." + +"Why, sure. But tell me. Has my friend Mensmore been getting himself +into trouble?" + +"Not so much as it looks. Others appear to have involved him without +his knowledge, and he has lent color to the accusations by involuntary +actions of a suspicious nature." + +"Well, if it is permissible, I should like to hear the straight story." + +Under the circumstances, Bruce thought that this stranger from America +had a right to know why he was in danger of being arrested during his +first twenty-four hours' residence in the country, so he gave him a +succinct narrative of the _prima facie_ case against Mensmore. + +Corbett listened in silence to the recital. When it ended he said: + +"Mr. Bruce, my friend was incapable of murdering any woman. He was +equally incapable of conducting any discreditable _liaison_ with any +woman. I have known him for years, and a straighter, truer, more +honorable man I never met. I don't know what his reason was for assuming +my name, which he undoubtedly did, as the agent called this morning, and +I find the flat is taken in my name." + +"What did you say?" + +"Oh, just that Mensmore had acted for me. The man seemed a bit puzzled, +but he didn't kick when I offered to pay up the rent owing since +Christmas, and another quarter in advance." + +"I don't suppose he did. The rent was due, then?" + +"Yes. It seems that Mensmore, writing in my name, sent a letter from +Monte Carlo a month ago, saying he would return about this time and +settle up." + +"Thus proving his intention all along to come back to London. It is a +queer muddle, Mr. Corbett, is it not?" + +"Very; but you will pardon me, as an outsider, saying one thing--you all +appear to have overlooked a clear trail." + +"And what is that?" + +"What about Mrs. Hillmer? Who is she? Who are her friends? Who maintains +her in such style? Bertie was with me four years and never mentioned her +name. She could not have been rich by inheritance, as it was on account +of their father going broke that Mensmore had to leave the Army and come +to the States. It strikes me, Mr. Bruce, that the woman knows more about +this affair than the man." + +"You may be right. But do not forget the absolute proofs we possess that +the crime occurred in Mensmore's chambers, and the extraordinary +coincidence that he left England immediately afterwards." + +"I am not forgetting anything. Those facts tell both ways. Just because +he quitted the country at the time somebody may have tried to throw the +blame on him." + +The theory was plausible, though Bruce could not accept it. +Nevertheless, after Corbett had taken his departure he could not help +thinking about his references to Mrs. Hillmer. That there was force in +them he could not deny, and with the admission came the unpleasant +thought that perhaps he, Bruce, was in some sense responsible for the +neglect to clear up her antecedents. + +However, a few hours might explain much. + +With unwonted impatience the barrister awaited the coming of night. He +tried every expedient to kill time, and found each operation tedious. + +He dined early, and as half-past seven came and passed he wondered why +the detective did not appear. + +But his doubts on this point did not last long. + +"White is looking at Charing Cross to make sure of their arrival," he +said to himself. + +At ten minutes to eight the detective came in hurriedly. + +"They will be here directly," he announced. "A servant has taken their +luggage to Mrs. Hillmer's place, and they are evidently driving straight +here after taking some refreshment at the station." + +"Have you no faith in human nature, Mr. White? Could you not trust their +words?" + +"Well, sir, my experience of human nature is that you can very seldom +trust anybody's word." + +At last Smith announced Mrs. Hillmer and Mr. Mensmore. + +When they entered Bruce was for the moment at a loss to know exactly how +to receive them. + +But Mrs. Hillmer settled the matter by greeting him with a quiet +"Good-evening," and seating herself. Mensmore stood near the door, very +pale and stern-looking. + +"It appears, Mr. Bruce," he said, "that we met in Monte Carlo under +false pretences. You were, it seems, a detective on the track of a +murderer, and you were good enough to believe that I was the person you +sought. It would have saved some misconception on my part had you +explained our _rôles_ earlier. However, I am here, to meet the charge." + +Claude was not unprepared for this attitude on Mensmore's part. But he +was determined that it should not continue if he could help it. + +"When we parted at Monte Carlo, Mensmore," he said, "we parted as +friends." + +"Yes." + +"Then tell me what has happened since to cause this obvious change in +your opinion of me?" + +"Is it not true that you suspect me of murdering Lady Dyke?" + +"No." + +"But why has my sister been told that I ran serious risk of being +apprehended on that account?" + +"Because we certainly did suspect a mysterious personage who called +himself Sydney H. Corbett, and whose behavior was so unaccountable that +the authorities required a reasonable explanation of it." + +"Do I understand, Bruce, that we meet with no more suspicion between us +than when we last saw each other?" + +"Most certainly." + +"Then I ask your pardon for my manner and words. I have suffered keenly +during the last three days from this cruel thought. Let us shake hands +on it." + +As their hands met they both heard Mrs. Hillmer stifle a sob. Mensmore +turned to her. + +"Now, Gwen," he said, "don't be foolish. We will soon clear up this +miserable business. So far as we are concerned, all we need to do is to +tell the truth and fear nobody." + +"That's it," said White. "If you adopt that course the matter will soon +be ended." + +Mensmore turned to the speaker. He guessed his identity, but Bruce +introduced the detective by name. + +"Well," said Mensmore, "I have come here to answer questions. What is it +you want to know?" + +Mr. White glanced at the barrister, and the other explained. + +"I have, as you may already realize, taken more than a passive interest +in this inquiry, so the questioning largely devolves on me. First, tell +me why you adopted the name of Corbett?" + +"Simply enough, though stupid, I now admit. When I returned from the +States I was very hard up, but managed to pick up a subsistence by +writing for the sporting press, and occasionally backing horses. But I +knew this could not last, so I tried to secure some financial interests +in the City. In doing so I made the acquaintance of a man named Dodge, +and committed myself to the underwriting of a new venture named the +Springbok Mine. This fell through at the time, and with this collapse +came other demands. I hate being worried by creditors, so when my sister +offered to take and furnish a flat for me, near her own, I thought I +would live quietly for a time and conceal my name so as to have peace +there at any rate. Therefore, I assumed the name of a friend in America, +little thinking that I should land both him and myself into such trouble +by doing it. That is the explanation. By the way, what has happened to +Corbett?" + +"He is all right. He expects to see you to-night. You know Sir Charles +Dyke, do you not?" + +"Yes." + +"Intimately?" + +"Well, no, not exactly. He and I were at school together at Brighton, at +Childe's place." + +"At Brighton?" + +"Yes. I was a little chap when Dyke was a senior. After he left, the +headmaster changed the school to a place called Seton Lodge, at Putney, +on account of cramming operations for Army exams." + +"Then you were at Putney?" + +"Yes, for two years." + +"And Dyke was not?" + +"No; that I am sure of." + +"Have you and Sir Charles been friendly since?" + +Mensmore's face hardened somewhat as he answered, "I have seen very +little of him, and hardly ever spoken to him." + +"Why? Did you quarrel?" + +"N-no, but we just did not happen to meet. Bear in mind, I was in +business some years ago, and I am not yet thirty." + +"Did you know his wife?" + +"I have never, to my knowledge, seen her." + +"How, then, can you account for the fact that she visited your flat at +Raleigh Mansions on November 6." + +"I say that such a statement is mere nonsense." + +"But if it can be proved?" + +"It cannot." + +"I assure you, on my honor, that it can." + +"But look here, Bruce. Why should she come to see me? I question greatly +if she knew of my existence." + +"Nevertheless, it is the fact." + +"I can only tell you it is not. I left London on November 8, and on the +two previous evenings I dined alone. Mrs. Robinson, my housekeeper, can +tell you that not another soul entered my flat for a week prior to my +departure, except my sister and--and--I had forgotten--some workmen." + +"Some workmen?" + +"Yes; some fellows from a furniture warehouse." + +"What were they doing?" + +"Well, don't you see, I told you I was not well off, and my sister +furnished my flat for me, in August last that was, but the drawing-room +was left bare for a time. Just before I left for France she decided to +refurnish her drawing-room, and she gave me the whole fit-out. The +things were brought in by the men who brought her purchases." + +At this astounding revelation Bruce and the detective were utterly taken +aback. It was with difficulty that the barrister enunciated his next +words clearly. + +"Can you tell me with absolute certainty the date of this change of the +furniture?" + +"Oh yes. It was the day before I started for the Riviera; that must have +been November 7." + +"Are you positive of this?" + +"Undoubtedly. Is it a matter of importance? Gwen, you know all about it. +Besides, the bills for your new furniture will show the exact date of +delivery, and it was the same day." + +Mrs. Hillmer's face was hidden by her veil, but she nodded silently. + +Three people in the room knew the significance of Mensmore's +straightforward words; he alone was unaware of the direction towards +which the investigation now tended. + +"Let us analyze the matter carefully," said Bruce, who had recovered his +self-possession, though he was almost terrified at the possibilities of +the situation. "Did the whole of the contents of your drawing-room come +from your sister's flat?" + +"Every stick. There was nothing there before but the bare boards." + +"Do you remember a handsome ornamental fender being among these +articles?" + +"Perfectly. My housekeeper said the men broke it during the transit. +They denied this, and looked for the piece chipped off, but could not +find it. She told me about it that night." + +"Did you mention it to Mrs. Hillmer?" + +"No. To tell the honest truth, Gwen and I had quarrelled a couple of +days before. That is to say, we disagreed seriously about a certain +matter, and it was this which led to my making off to Monte Carlo. +Therefore it was hardly likely I should mention such a trivial matter +to her." + +"May I ask what you quarrelled about?" + +"I have told her since that it ought to be made known, but she has +implored me not to reveal it, so I cannot. But she will tell you herself +that we agreed I should be at liberty to make this guarded explanation." + +Bruce and the detective exchanged glances of wondering comprehension. + +"I do not think we need question Mr. Mensmore further," said the +barrister to White. + +"No," was the reply. "The matter is clear enough. Mrs. Hillmer must tell +us how that furniture came to be transferred from her premises on the +morning of the 7th." + +"If she chooses." + +The barrister's tone was sad, and its ominous significance was not lost +on his hearers. + +Mrs. Hillmer raised her veil. Her face was deathly pale and tense in its +fixed agony. But in her eyes was a light which gave a curious aspect of +resolve to her otherwise painful aspect of utter grief. + +"I do not choose," she said quietly, looking, not at Bruce or the +detective, but at her brother. + +For a little while no one spoke. Mensmore at last broke out eagerly: + +"Don't act absurdly, Gwen. I cannot even guess where all this talk about +the furniture is leading us, but I do know that you are as innocent of +any complicity in Lady Dyke's death as I am, so it is better for you to +help forward the inquiry than to retard it." + +"I am not innocent," said Mrs. Hillmer, her words falling with painful +distinctness upon the ears of the three men. "Heaven help me! I am +responsible for it!" + +Her brother started to his feet, and caught her by the shoulder. + +"What folly is this," he cried. "Do you know what you are saying?" + +"Fully. My words are like sledge-hammers. I will forever feel their +weight. I tell you I am responsible for the death of Lady Dyke." + +"Then how did she die, Mrs. Hillmer?" said Bruce, whose glance sought to +read her soul. + +"I do not know. I do not want to know. It matters little to me." + +"In other words, you are assuming a responsibility you should not bear. +You were not even aware of this poor lady's death until I told you. Why +should you seek to avert suspicion from others merely because Lady Dyke +is shown to have met her death in your apartments?" + +"But how is it shown?" interrupted Mensmore vehemently. He was more +disturbed by his sister's unaccountable attitude than he had ever been +by the serious charge against himself. + +"Easily enough," said White, feeling that he ought to have some share in +the conversation. "A piece of the damaged fender placed in your rooms, +Mr. Mensmore, was found in the murdered lady's head." + +"Was it?" he cried. "Then, by Heaven, I refuse to see my sister +sacrificed for anybody's sake. She has borne too long the whole burden +of misery and degradation. I tell you, Gwen, that if you do not save +yourself I will save you against your will. That furniture came to my +room because--" + +"Bertie, I beseech you, for the sake of the woman you love, to spare +me." + +Mrs. Hillmer flung herself on her knees before him and caught hold of +his hands, while she burst into a storm of tears. + +Mensmore was unnerved. He turned to Bruce, and said: + +"Help me in this miserable business, old chap. I don't know what to say +or do; my sister had no more connection with Lady Dyke's death than I +had. This statement on her part is mere hysteria, arising from other +circumstances altogether." + +"That I feel acutely," said the barrister. "Yet some one killed her, +and, whatever the pain that may be caused, and whoever may suffer, I am +determined that the truth shall come out." + +"I tell you," wailed Mrs. Hillmer between her sobs, "that I must bear +all the blame. Why do you hesitate? She was killed in my house, and I +confess my guilt." + +"This _is_ rum business," growled Mr. White aloud, half unconsciously. + +At that moment the door opened unexpectedly, and Smith entered. + +Before Bruce had time to vociferate an order to his astounded servitor +the man stuttered an excuse: + +"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but Sir Charles Dyke has called, and wants +to know if you will be disengaged soon." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE LETTER + + +Quick on the heels of the footman's stammered explanation came the voice +of Sir Charles himself: + +"Sorry to disturb you, Bruce, if you are busy, but I must see you for a +moment on a matter of the utmost importance." + +There was that in his utterance which betokened great excitement. He was +not visible to the occupants of the room. During the audible silence +that followed his words, they could hear him stamping about the passage, +impatiently awaiting Bruce's presence. + +Mrs. Hillmer quietly collapsed on the floor. She had fainted. + +The barrister rushed out, calling for Mrs. Smith, and responding to Sir +Charles Dyke's proffered statement as to the reason for his presence by +the startling cry: + +"Wait a bit, Dyke. There's a lady in a faint inside. We must attend to +her at once." + +Mrs. Smith, fortunately, was at hand, and with the help of her +ministrations, Mrs. Hillmer gradually regained her senses. + +After a whispered colloquy with White, the barrister said to Mensmore: + +"You must remove your sister to her residence as quickly as possible. +She is far too highly strung to bear any further questioning to-night. +Perhaps to-morrow, when you and she have discussed matters fully +together, you may be able to send for us and clear up this wretched +business." + +For answer Mensmore silently pressed his hand. With the help of the +housekeeper he led his sister from the room, passing Sir Charles Dyke in +the hall. The baronet politely turned aside, and Mensmore did not look +at him, being far too engrossed with his sister to pay heed to aught +else at the moment. As for Mrs. Hillmer, she was in such a state of +collapse as to be practically unconscious of her surroundings. + +She managed to murmur at the door: + +"Where are you taking me to, Bertie?" + +"Home, dear." + +"Home? Oh, thank Heaven!" + +They all heard her, and even the detective was constrained to say: + +"Poor thing, she needn't have been afraid. She is suffering for some one +else." + +Sir Charles Dyke grasped Bruce's arm. + +"What on earth is going on?" he said. + +"Merely a foolish woman worrying herself about others," replied Bruce +grimly. + +"But those people were my old friends, Mensmore and his sister?" + +"Yes." + +"What are they doing here?" + +"Mensmore has been brought back to London by Mrs. Hillmer to face the +allegations made against him with regard to your wife's disappearance. +They came here by their own appointment, and--" + +"Did I not tell you that this charge against Mensmore was wild folly on +the face of it?" + +"So it seems, when we have just discovered that your wife was killed in +his sister's house, and Mrs. Hillmer persists in declaring that she was +responsible for the crime." + +"Look here, Bruce. Don't lose your head like everybody else mixed up in +this wretched business. My wife is not dead." + +"What!" The cry was a double one, for both Bruce and White gave +simultaneous utterance to their amazement. + +"It is true. She is alive all the time. I have had a letter from her." + +"A letter. Surely, Dyke--" + +"I am neither mad nor drunk. The letter reached me by this morning's +post. I came here with it as fast as I could travel. I have been in the +train all day, and am nearly fainting from hunger." + +"Where is it?" cried White. "Is it genuine?" + +"I could swear to her writing amidst a thousand letters. Here it is. I +have brought some old correspondence of hers for the purpose of +comparison, as I could hardly believe my eyes when I first received it." + +Bruce was so dumfounded by this remarkable development that he could but +mutely take the document produced by the baronet and read it. + +He himself recognized Lady Dyke's handwriting, which he had often +seen--a clear, bold, well-defined script, more like the caligraphy of a +banker than of a fashionable lady. + +The letter was dated February 1, bore no other superscription, and read +as follows: + + "_My Dear Charles_,--I have just seen in the newspapers the + announcement of my death, and the theories set on foot to + account for my disappearance on November 6. This seems to + convey to me the strange fact that you have not received the + explanation I sent you of my reasons for leaving London so + suddenly. Otherwise you must have kept your own counsel very + closely. However, I do not now desire to reopen the question of + motive; let it suffice to say that no one save myself was + responsible for my disappearance, and that neither you nor any + one acquainted with me will ever see me again. Do not search + for me; it will be time wasted. If you have legal proof of my + death and wish to marry again, be satisfied. Tear up this + letter and forget it. I am dead--to you and to the world. You + can neither refuse to accept the genuineness of this letter nor + trace me by reason of it, as I have taken such precautions that + the latter course will be impossible. Let me repeat--forget me. + + "ALICE." + +The barrister carefully refolded the sheet after scrutinizing the +water-mark against the light, and noting that the paper was British +made; he then examined the envelope. The obliterating postmark was +"London, February 4, 9 P.M., West Strand." The office of delivery was +"Wensley, February 6." + +"Posted at the West Strand Post-Office on Saturday," he said. "Detained +in London all Sunday, and delivered to you this morning in the North." + +"Exactly." + +"It was written three days earlier, if the date be accurate. So the +writer is somewhere in Europe." + +"That's how I take it," said Sir Charles. + +"Unless the whole thing is a fraud." + +"How can it be a fraud? I am sure as to the handwriting. Why, even +yourself, Bruce, must have a good recollection of my wife's style." + +"Undoubtedly. No man born could swear that this was not Lady Dyke's +production." + +"Well, what are we to do?" + +"And what did Mrs. Hillmer mean by kicking up that fuss when we spoke to +her?" interpolated White. "I'll take my oath that some one was killed in +her house, else how comes it that a woman found in the Thames at Putney +is carrying about in her head some of Mrs. Hillmer's ironwork? I wish +she hadn't fainted just now. Why, she said herself that she was the +cause of Lady Dyke's death, and here is Lady Dyke writing to say she is +alive. This business is beyond me, but Mrs. Hillmer has got to explain a +good deal yet before I am done with her." + +The detective's wrath at this check in the hunt after a criminal did not +appeal to the baronet. + +"You can please yourself, Mr. White, of course," he said coldly; "but so +far as I am concerned, I will respect my wife's wishes, and let the +matter rest where it is." + +"My dear fellow," said the barrister, "such a course is impossible. +Assuming that her ladyship is really alive, why did she leave you?" + +"How can I tell? She herself refuses to give a reason. She apparently +stated one in a letter which never reached me, as you know. She has +selfishly caused me a world of suffering and misery for three long +months. I refuse to be plagued in the matter further." + +Sir Charles was excited and angry. He was in bitter revolt against +circumstances. + +"Do you intend to show this letter to Lady Dyke's relatives?" asked +Bruce, at a loss for the time to discuss the situation coherently. + +"I do not know. What would you advise? I trust fully to your judgment. +But is it not better to obey her wishes?--to forget, as she puts it?" + +"We must decide nothing hastily. I am perplexed beyond endurance by +this business. There is so much that is wildly impossible in its +irreconcilable features. I must have time. Will you give me a copy +of the letter?" + +"Certainly, keep it yourself. We have all seen it." + +"Thank you." Bruce placed the envelope and its contents in his +pocket-book. Then, turning to the detective, he said: + +"Now, Mr. White, do me a favor. Do not worry Mrs. Hillmer until you hear +from me." + +"By all means, Mr. Bruce. But am I to report to the Commissioner that +Lady Dyke has been found, or has, at any rate, explained that she is not +dead?" + +"There is no immediate necessity why a report of any kind should be +made." + +"None." + +"Then leave matters where they are at present." + +"But why," put in Sir Charles. "Is it not better to end all inquiries, +at least so far as my wife is concerned? It is her desire, and, I may +add, my own, now that I know something of her fate." + +"Of course, if you wish it, Dyke, I have no valid objection." + +"Oh, no, no. Do not look at it in that way. I leave the ultimate +decision entirely to you." + +"In that case, I recommend complete silence in all quarters at present." + +The detective left them, and as he passed out into Victoria Street his +philosophy could find but one comprehensive dictum. "This _is_ a rum +go," he muttered, unconsciously plagiarizing himself on many previous +occasions. + +The baronet sat down, and meditatively chewed the handle of his +umbrella. + +"What is this nonsense Mensmore's sister talked about being responsible +for my wife's death?" he said. + +"I do not pretend to understand," answered Bruce. "Little more than a +week ago she learned for the first time of your wife's supposed murder. +Of that I am quite positive. She feared that her brother was implicated, +and, without trusting me with the reasons for her belief, took the +measures she thought best to safeguard him." + +"Took measures! What?" Sir Charles jerked the words out impetuously. + +"She followed him to the South of France, and found him in Florence. +What she said I cannot guess, but the result was their visit here +to-night. During our interview it came out, quite by accident, that some +furniture was taken from her place to her brother's on the morning of +November 7, thus shifting the venue of Lady Dyke's death--or imaginary +death I must now say--from No. 12 Raleigh Mansions to No. 61. This +discovery was as startling to Mrs. Hillmer as to us, for she forthwith +protested that the whole affair arose from her fault, and practically +asked the detective to arrest her on the definite charge of murder." + +"Pooh! The mania of an hysterical woman!" + +"Possibly!" + +"Why 'possibly'? No one was murdered in her abode. Do you for a moment +believe the monstrous insinuation?" + +"No, not in that sense. But her brother was about to make some +revelation regarding a third person when she appealed to him not to +speak. What would have happened finally I do not know. At that critical +moment my servant announced your arrival." + +"But what can Mrs. Hillmer have to conceal? She and her brother have +been lost to Society since long before my marriage. Neither of them, so +far as I know, has ever set eyes on my wife during the last seven +years." + +"Yet Mrs. Hillmer _must_ have had some powerful motive in acting as she +did." + +"Is it not more than likely that she had a bad attack of nerves?" + +"A woman who merely yields to nervous prostration behaves foolishly. +This woman gave way to emotion, it is true, but it was strength, not +weakness, that sustained her." + +"What do you mean?" + +"There is but one force that sustains in such a crisis--the power of +love. Mrs. Hillmer was not flying from consequences. She met them +half-way in the spirit of a martyr." + +"'Pon my honor, Bruce, I am beginning to think that this wretched +business is affecting your usually clear brain. You are accepting +fancies as facts." + +"Maybe. I confess I am unable to form a logical conclusion to-night." + +"Why not abandon the whole muddle to time? There is no solution of a +difficulty like the almanac. Let us both go off somewhere." + +"What, and leave Mrs. Hillmer to die of sheer pain of mind? Let this +unfortunate fellow, Mensmore, suffer no one knows what consequences from +the events of to-day? It is out of the question." + +"Very well, I leave it to you. Every one seems to forget that it is I +who suffer most." The baronet stood up and dejectedly gazed into the +fire. + +"I, at least, can feel for you, Dyke," said Bruce sympatherically, "but +you must admit that things cannot be allowed to remain in their present +whirlpool." + +"So be it. Let them go on to their bitter end. If my wife was tired of +my society she might at least have got rid of me in an easier manner." + +With this trite reflection Sir Charles quitted his friend's house. + +Bruce sat motionless for a long time. Then, as his mind became calmer, +he lit a cigar, took out the doubly mysterious letter, and examined it +in every possible way, critically and microscopically. + +There could be no doubt that it was a genuine production. The condition +of the ink bore out the correctness of the date, and the fact that the +note paper and envelope were not of Continental style was not very +material. + +It did not appear to have been enclosed in another envelope, as the +writer implied, for the purpose of being re-posted in London. Rather did +the slightly frayed edges give rise to the assumption that it had been +carried in some one's pocket before postage. But this theory was vague +and undemonstrable. + +The handwriting was Lady Dyke's; the style, allowing for the strange +conditions under which it was written, was hers; yet Bruce did not +believe in it. + +Nothing could shake his faith in the one solid, concrete certainty that +stood out from a maze of contradictions and mystery--Lady Dyke was dead, +and buried in a pauper's grave at Putney. + +At last, wearied with thought and theorizing, he went to bed; but Smith +sat up late to regale his partner with the full, true, and particular +narrative of the "lydy a-cryin' on her knees, and the strange gent +lookin' as though he would like to murder Mr. White." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE HANDWRITING + + +Like most men, Claude took a different view of events in the morning to +that which he entertained over night. + +Yesterday, the surprises of the hour were concrete embodiments, each +distinct and emphatic. To-day they were merged in the general mass of +contradictory details that made up this most bewildering inquiry. + +That matters could not be allowed to rest in their present state was +clear; that they would, in the natural course of things, reveal +themselves more definitely, even if unaided, was also patent. + +Mrs. Hillmer's partial admissions, her brother's evident knowledge of +some salient features of the puzzle, that utterly strange letter in the +admitted handwriting of Lady Dyke herself, and bearing the prosaic +testimony of dates stamped by the Post-office--these sensational +elements, when brought into juxtaposition, could not avoid reaction into +clearer phases. + +Long experience in criminal investigation told him that, under certain +circumstances, the best course of all was one of inactivity. + +On the basis of the accepted truism in the affairs of many people that +"letters left unanswered answer themselves," the barrister knew that +there must be an outcome from the queer medley of occurrences at his +residence on the Monday evening. + +Reviewing the history of the past three months several odd features +stood out from the general jumble. + +In the first place, he wondered why he had failed to deduce any +pertinent fact from the manner in which Mrs. Hillmer's dining-room was +furnished on the occasion of his first visit to Raleigh Mansions. + +He distinctly remembered noting his reception in an unusual room +littered with unusual articles, when the luxurious and well-appointed +suite of apartments was considered as a whole. It was suggested to him +at the time that the drawing-room, which he saw during his second visit, +was dismantled earlier, but he did not connect this trivial incident +with the feature in Mensmore's flat that he noted immediately--namely, +the discrepancies between the arrangement of the sitting-room and the +other chambers in the place. + +These things were immaterial now, but he indexed them as a guide for +future use. + +Lady Dyke's motive for that secret visit to Raleigh Mansions--that was +the key to the mystery. But how to discover it? Who was her confidant? +To whom could he turn for possible enlightenment? It was useless to +broach the matter again to her husband. The baronet and his wife had +been friends sharing the same _ménage_ rather than husband and wife. Her +relatives had already been appealed to in vain. They knew nothing of the +slightest value in this search for truth. + +In this train of thought the name of Jane Harding cropped up. She was +the personal maid of the deceased lady. She had sharp eyes and quick +wits. Her queer antics shortly after the inquest were not forgotten. +Here at least was a possibility of light if the girl would speak. + +If she refused what could be her motive? + +Anyhow it was worth while to make a fresh effort. Early in the afternoon +he called at the stage-door of the Jollity Theatre. + +"Is Miss Marie le Marchant still employed here?" he asked the attendant. + +"I dunno," was the careless answer. + +"Well, think hard," said the barrister, laying a half-crown on the +battered blotting-pad which is an indispensable part of the furniture in +the letter bureau of a theatre. + +"Yes, sir, I believe she is, but she has been away on a week's leave." + +"Indeed. Has she returned?" + +"I was off last night, sir, but if you will pardon me a moment I'll +inquire from the man who took my place." + +The stage-doorkeeper disappeared into the dark interior, to return +quickly with the information that Miss le Marchant had appeared as usual +on Monday night. + +"She was away most part of last week, sir," added the man, "and I +believe it wasn't a holiday, as she was a-sort of flurried about it as +if some one was ill." + +"Thank you. Do you know where she lives?" + +A momentary hesitation was soon softened by another half-crown. + +"It's against the rules, sir. If you were to find yourself near Jubilee +Buildings, Bloomsbury, you would not be far out." + +The information was sound. Miss Marie le Marchant's name was painted +outside a second-floor flat. + +Bruce knocked, and the door was opened by an elderly woman whom he had +no difficulty in recognizing. + +"Is your daughter in, Mrs. Harding?" he said. + +For a moment she could not speak for surprise. + +"Well, I never," she cried, "but London is a funny place. Do you know +me, sir?" + +"Any one would recognize you from your daughter, if they did not take +you for her elder sister," he said. Bruce's smile was irresistible. + +"My daughter is not in just now, sir," replied Mrs. Harding, "but I +expect her in to tea almost immediately." + +"Then may I come in and await her arrival?" + +"Certainly, sir." + +Once inside the flat, he was impressed by the pretentious but fairly +comfortable nature of its appointments; the ex-lady's maid's legacy must +have been a nice one to enable her to live in such style, as the poor +pittance of a coryphée would barely pay the rent and taxes. Moreover, +the presence of her mother in the establishment was a distinct factor in +her favor. + +Mrs. Harding had brought the visitor to the tiny sitting-room. She +seated herself near the window and resumed some sewing. + +"Have you been long in town, Mrs. Harding?" he said, by way of being +civil. + +"In London, do you mean, sir? About two months. Ever since my daughter +got along so well in her new profession. She's a good girl, is my +daughter." + +"Miss Harding is doing well on the stage, then?" + +"Oh yes, sir. Why, she's been earning £6 a week, and last week she was +sent for on a special engagement, which paid her so well that she's +going to buy me a new dress out of the money." + +"Really," said the barrister, "you ought to be proud of her." + +"I am," admitted the admiring mother. "I only wish her brother, who +went off and 'listed for a sojer, had turned out half as well." + +Mrs. Harding nodded towards a photograph of a cavalry soldier in uniform +on the mantelshelf, and Bruce rose to examine it, inwardly marvelling at +the intelligence he had just received. Was it reasonable that the girl +could be the recipient of a legacy without the knowledge of her mother? +In any case, why did she conceal the real nature of her earnings? The +story about "£6 a week" was a myth. + +Near to the portrait of the gallant huzzar was a large plaque +presentment of Miss Marie herself, in all the glory of tights, wig, and +make-up. Across it was written, in the best theatrical style, "Ever +yours sincerely, Marie le Marchant." And no sooner had Bruce caught +sight of the words than he almost shouted aloud in his amazement. + +The handwriting was identical with that of Lady Dyke. + +Gulping down his surprise, he devoured the signature with his eyes. The +resemblance was truly remarkable. What on earth could be the explanation +of this phenomenon. + +"Your daughter is a remarkably nice writer, Mrs. Harding," he said, +turning the photograph towards her. + +"Yes," said the complacent mother, "she taught herself when--before she +went on the stage. She was always a clever girl, and when she grew up +she improved herself. I wasn't able to afford her much schooling when +she was young." + +"I have seldom seen a nicer hand," he went on. "Have you any other +specimens of her writing? I should like to see them if they are not +private." + +The smooth surface of the photograph might perhaps lend a deceptive +fluency to the pen. He wanted to make quite sure that he was not +mistaken. + +"Oh yes. She's just copying out the part of Ophelia in _Hamlet_. And she +acts it beautiful." + +Mrs. Harding handed over a large MS. book, and there, written on the +first page, was the name of the luckless woman whose fatal passion has +moved millions to tears. + +He admired Miss Marie le Marchant's efforts in the matter of +self-culture, but he was determined, once for all, to wrest from her +some explanation of her actions. + +The rattle of a key in the outer door caused him to throw aside the +coveted "part," and the young lady herself entered. A few weeks of stage +experience had given her a more stylish appearance. There was a +"professional" touch in the arrangement of her hat and the droop of her +skirt. + +She knew him instantly, and listened with evident anger to her mother's +explanation that "this gentleman has just called to see you, dear." + +"All right, mother," she cried. "I see it is Mr. Bruce. Will you get tea +ready while I talk with him? I shall be ready in two minutes." This with +a defiant look at the visitor. + +When Mrs. Harding quitted the room her daughter said in the crisp +accents of ill-temper: + +"What do you want with me, now?" + +"I want to ask why you dared to write a letter to Sir Charles Dyke in +the name of your dead mistress." + +The answer was so direct, the tone so menacing, its assumption of +absolute and unquestioned knowledge so complete, that for a moment Marie +le Marchant's assurance failed her. + +She stood like one petrified, with eyes dilated and breast heaving. At +last she managed to ejaculate: + +"I--I--why do you ask me that question?" + +"Because I must have the truth from you this time. You are playing a +very dangerous game." + +That he was right he was sure now beyond doubt. It was impossible for +the girl to deny it with those piercing eyes fixed on her, and seeming +to read the secrets of her heart. + +Yet she was plucky enough. Although she was confused and on the point of +bursting into tears, she snapped viciously: + +"I will tell you nothing. Go away." + +"You are obstinate, I know," said Bruce, "but I must warn you that you +are juggling with edged tools. You should not imagine that you can +trifle with murder. What is your motive for deliberately trying to +conceal Lady Dyke's death? If you do not answer me you may be asked the +question in a court of law." + +"You have no right to come here annoying me!" she retorted. + +"I am not here to annoy you. I come, rather, as a friend, to appeal to +you not to incur the grave risk of keeping from the authorities +information which they ought to possess." + +"What information?" + +"The reasons which led you to leave Sir Charles Dyke's house so +suddenly, the source from which you obtain your money, paid to you, +doubtless, to secure your silence, the motive which impelled you to use +your ability to imitate her ladyship's handwriting in order to spread +the false news that she is alive. This is the information needed, and +your wilful refusal to give it constitutes a grave indictment." + +"I don't care _that_ for you, Mr. Bruce," replied the girl, her face set +now in a scarlet temper, while she snapped her fingers to emphasize the +words. "You can do and say what you like, I will tell you nothing." + +"You cannot deny you wrote that letter to Sir Charles Dyke last +Saturday?" + +"I am waiting for my tea. Sorry I can't ask you to join me." + +"Your flippancy will not avail you. See, here is the letter itself--your +own production--written on paper of which you have a quantity in this +very room." + +The shot was a bold one, and it very nearly hit the mark. She was +staggered, almost subdued by this melodramatic production of the +original, and his clever guess at the existence of similar notepaper in +the house. + +But her dogged temperament saved her. Jane Harding was British, +notwithstanding her penchant for a French-sounding name, and she would +have died sooner than beat a retreat. + +"I will thank you to leave me alone, Mr. Bruce," she said. + +There was nothing for it but to retire as gracefully as possible, but +the barrister was more than satisfied with the result of his visit. He +had now established beyond a shadow of doubt that for some reason which +he could not fathom the ex-lady's maid not only knew of her mistress's +death, but wished to conceal it. + +This desire, too, had the essential feature of every other branch of the +inquiry; it grew to maturity long after the day when Lady Dyke was +actually killed. What did it all mean? + +From Bloomsbury he strolled west to Portman Square, and found Sir +Charles on the point of going for a drive in the Park. + +He briefly told him his discovery. + +The baronet at first was sceptical. "Do you mean to say, Claude," he +cried, fretfully, "that I do not know my wife's writing when I see it?" + +"You may think you do, but when another person can imitate it exactly, +of course, you may be deceived. Besides, if this girl, as is probable, +was helped in her education by your wife, what is more likely than that +Jane Harding should seek to copy that which she would consider the ideal +of excellence. Don't harbor any delusions in the matter, Dyke. The +letter you received on Monday morning was written by Jane Harding. I am +sure of that from her manner no less than from the accidental +resemblance of the two styles of handwriting. What I could not find out +was her motive for the deceit." + +"It is a queer business altogether," said Sir Charles wearily; "I wish +it were ended." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +MISS PHYLLIS BROWNE INTERVENES + + +Bruce was quite positive in his belief that Jane Harding was the paid +agent of some person who wished to conceal the facts concerning Lady +Dyke's death. + +Her unexpected appearance in the field at this late hour, no less than +the bold _rôle_ she adopted, proved this conclusively. But in England +there was no torture-chamber to which she might be led and gradually +dismembered until she confessed the truth. + +So long as she adhered to the policy of pert denial she was quite safe. +The law could not touch her, for the chief witness against her, Sir +Charles Dyke, was obviously more than half-inclined to admit the +genuineness of the letter, even in opposition to the superior judgment +of his friend. + +Yet it was a matter which Bruce considered ought to be made known to the +police, so he sent for Mr. White and told him of the strange result of +his interview with Miss Marie le Marchant. + +"Dash everything!" cried the detective, when he heard the news. "I made +a note sometime ago that that girl ought to be watched, but I clean +forgot all about it." + +"Remember," said Bruce, "that my discovery was the result of pure +accident. My object in visiting her was to endeavor to induce her +confidence with regard to Lady Dyke's former life and habits. Indeed, I +handled the business very badly." + +"I don't see that, sir. You got hold of a very remarkable fact, and thus +prevented the success of a bold move by some one which, in my case at +any rate, nearly choked me off the inquiry." + +"True. Thus far, chance favored me. But I ought to have been content +with the assumption. There was no need to frighten her by pressing it +home." + +"Oh, from that point of view--" began the detective. + +But Bruce was merely thinking aloud--rough-shaping his ideas as they +grouped themselves in his brain. + +"Perhaps I am wrong there too," he went on. "If this girl is working to +instructions she would have refused to help me in any way, and she +already knows that I am on the trail. There is one highly satisfactory +feature in the Jane Harding adventure, Mr. White." + +"And what is that?" + +"The person, or persons, responsible for Lady Dyke's death know that the +matter has not been dropped. They are inclined to think that the circle +is narrowing. In some of our casts, Mr. White, we must have come so +unpleasantly close to them, that they deemed it advisable to throw us +off the scent by a bold effort." + +"No doubt you are right, sir, but I wish to goodness I knew when we were +'warm,' as I am becoming tired of the business. Every new development +deepens the mystery." + +The detective's face was as downcast as his words. + +"Surely not! The more pieces of the puzzle we have to handle the less +difficult should be the final task of putting them together." + +"Not when every piece is a fresh puzzle in itself." + +"Why, what has disconcerted you to-day?" + +"Mrs. Hillmer." + +"What of her?" + +"I have had another talk with the maid,--her companion, you know,--a +girl named Dobson. It struck me that it was advisable to know more about +Mrs. Hillmer than we do at present." + +Bruce made no comment, but he could not help reflecting that Corbett, +the stranger from Wyoming, had entertained the same view. + +"Well," continued the detective, "I went about the affair as quietly as +possible, but the maid, though willing, could not tell me much. Mrs. +Hillmer, she thinks, married very young, and was badly treated by her +husband. Finally, there was a rumpus, and she went on the stage, while +Hillmer drank himself to death. He died a year ago, and they had been +separated nearly five years. He was fairly well-to-do, but he squandered +all his money in dissipation and never gave her a cent. Three years last +Michaelmas she set up her present establishment at Raleigh Mansions, and +there she has been ever since." + +"Then where does the money come from? It must cost her at least £2,000 a +year to live." + +"That's just what the maid can't tell me. Her mistress led a very +secluded life, and was never what you could call fast, though a very +pretty woman. During this time she had only one visitor--a gentleman." + +"Ah!" + +"It sounds promising, but it ends in smoke, so far as I can see." + +"Why?" + +"This gentleman was a Colonel Montgomery--an old friend--though he +wasn't much turned thirty, the maid says. He interested himself a lot in +Mrs. Hillmer's affairs, looked after some investments for her, and was +on very good terms with her, and nobody could whisper a word against the +character of either of them. He was never there except in the afternoon. +On very rare occasions he took Mrs. Hillmer, whose maid always +accompanied them, to Epping Forest, or up the river, or on some such +journey." + +"Go on!" + +"I'm sorry, sir, but the chase is over. He's dead." + +"Dead?" + +"Yes. The maid doesn't know how, or when, exactly, but one day she found +her mistress crying, and when she asked her what was the matter, Mrs. +Hillmer said, 'I've lost my friend.' The maid said, 'Surely not Colonel +Montgomery, madam?' and she replied, 'Yes.' She quite took on about it." + +"Had the maid no idea as to the date of this interesting occurrence?" + +"Only a vague one. Sometime in the autumn or before Christmas. By Jove, +yes; it escaped me at the time, but she said that soon after the +Colonel's death another gentleman called and took her mistress out to +dinner. I was so busy thinking about the colonel that I slipped the +significance of that statement. It must have been you, Mr. Bruce." + +"So it seems." + +The barrister's active brain was already assimilating this new +information. If a woman like Mrs. Hillmer had lost a dear and valuable +friend--one who practically formed the horizon of her life--she would +certainly have worn mourning for him. It was a singular coincidence that +Mrs. Hillmer "lost" Colonel Montgomery about the same time that Lady +Dyke disappeared. Detective and maid alike had drawn a false inference +from Mrs. Hillmer's words. + +"We must find Colonel Montgomery," he said, after a slight pause. + +"Find him!" + +"Yes." + +"I hope neither of us is going his way for some time to come, Mr. +Bruce," laughed the policeman. + +"White, I shall never cure you from jumping at conclusions. Upon your +present evidence Colonel Montgomery is no more dead than you are." + +"But the maid said--" + +"I don't care if fifty maids said. There are many more ways of 'losing' +a friend than by death. Pass me the Army List, on that bookshelf behind +you there." + +A brief reference to the index, and Bruce said: + +"I thought so. There is no _Colonel_ Montgomery. There are several +captains and lieutenants, and a Major-General who has commanded a small +island in the Pacific for the last five years, but not a single colonel. +White, you have blundered into eminence in your profession." + +"I'm glad to hear it, even as you put it, Mr. Bruce. But I don't see--" + +"I know you don't. If you did, a popular novelist would write your life +and style you the English Lecocq. Mrs. Hillmer 'lost' the gallant +colonel at the same time that the world 'lost' Lady Dyke. Find the +first, and I am much mistaken if we do not learn all about the second." + +"Now I wonder if you are right." + +The detective's eyes sparkled with animation. It was the first real clue +he had hit upon, and Bruce's method of complimenting him on the fact did +not disconcert him. + +"Of course I am right. You have done so well with the maid that I leave +her in your hands. Try the coachman and the cook. But keep me informed +of your progress." + +White rushed off elated. So persistent was he in striving to elucidate +this new problem that he paid no heed during some days to the side-light +furnished by Jane Harding and her exceedingly curious powers as a +letter-writer. + +Bruce purposely left the inquiry to the policeman. + +He realized intuitively that the disappearance of Lady Dyke would soon +be explained, but he shrank from subjecting Mrs. Hillmer to further +questioning. + +His abstinence was rewarded later in the week, for Mensmore came to see +him. The young man wore an expression of settled melancholy which +surprised the barrister greatly. + +"Have you prevailed on your sister to take us into her confidence?" he +said, when Mensmore was ensconced in a chair in his cosy sitting-room. + +"No. She is more fixed than ever in her resolve to take the whole blame +on herself." + +"Surely this mistaken idea can be shaken?" + +"I fear not." + +"And you also share it?" + +"I do. Bear with us, Bruce. This is a terrible business. It has broken +me up utterly." + +"Nonsense. You are in no way concerned save to shield your sister, and +no one credits her wild statements regarding her complicity in this +crime." + +"Look here, my dear fellow, I have come to ask you if this investigation +cannot be allowed to rest. It means a lot of misery that you cannot +foretell or prevent. Knowing what I do, I cannot believe that Lady Dyke +was murdered." + +"Knowing what I do, I cannot accept any other conclusion. A worthy and +estimable lady leaves her home suddenly, without the slightest imaginary +cause, and she is found in the Thames with a piece of iron driven into +her brain, while the medical evidence is clear that death was not due to +drowning. What other inference can be drawn than that she was foully +done to death?" + +"Heaven help me, I cannot tell. Yet I appeal to you to let matters rest +where they are if it is possible." + +"It is not possible. I cannot control the police. I am merely a private +agent acting on my own responsibility and on behalf of Lady Dyke's +relatives." + +"Don't misunderstand me, Bruce. I am not asking this thing on account of +my sister or myself." + +"On whose account, then?" + +Mensmore did not answer for a moment. He looked mournfully into the fire +for inspiration. + +"Perhaps I had better tell you," he said, "that I have broken off my +engagement with Miss Browne." + +The other jumped from his chair. + +"What the dickens do you mean?" he cried. + +"Exactly what I have said. When we met on Monday night, I did not +mention that Sir William and Lady Browne and their daughter travelled +back to England with us. On Tuesday I saw Phyllis. In view of the shadow +thrown on me by this frightful charge I thought it my duty to release +her from any ties. If my sister has to figure in a court of law as a +principal, or accomplice, in a murder case--and possibly myself with +her--I could not consent to associate my poor Phyllis's name with mine. +So I took the plunge." + +"You are a beastly idiot," shouted Bruce. "If I had the power I would +give you six months' hard labor this moment. Who ever threatened to put +you or your sister in the dock?" + +"You have done your best that way, you know." + +"I?--I have shielded you throughout!" + +"I feel that. But your admission shows that I am right. Shielded us from +what? From arrest by the police, of course." + +"But why take this precipitate action? What has Lady Dyke's death to do +with your marriage to Miss Browne?" + +"That's it, Bruce. I cannot explain. I must endure silently." + +"Did you give her any reason for your absurd resolution?" + +"Yes. I could have no secrets from her." + +"Did you inflict all this wretched story on a woman you loved and hoped +to marry?" + +"You may be as bitter as you like. That is my idea of square dealing, at +any rate. What other pretext could I invite for--for giving her up?" + +Mensmore found it hard to utter the words. In his heart Bruce pitied +him, though he raged at this lamentable issue of the only bright passage +in the whole story of death and intrigue. + +"And what did Miss Browne say?" + +"Oh, she just pooh-poohed the affair, and pretended to laugh at me, +though she was crying all the time." + +"A nice kettle of fish you have made of it," growled the barrister. "You +help your sister in her folly of silence and then proceed to give effect +to it by ruining your own happiness and that of your affianced wife. +Have you seen Miss Browne since?" + +"No." + +His visitor was so utterly disconsolate that Bruce was at a loss to +know how to deal with him. He felt that if Mensmore would but speak +regarding Mrs. Hillmer's strange delusion, and the cause of it, all +these difficulties and disasters would disappear. He resolved to try a +direct attack. + +"Have you ever heard of a Colonel Montgomery?" he said suddenly, bending +his searching gaze on the other's downcast face. + +The effect was electrical. Mensmore was so taken back that he was +spellbound. He looked at Claude, the picture of astonishment, before he +stammered: + +"I--you--who told you about him?" + +"He was your sister's friend, adviser, and confidant," was the stern +reply. "He it is who, in some mysterious way, is bound up with Lady +Dyke's disappearance." + +Mensmore rose excitedly. + +"I cannot discuss the matter with you," he cried. "I have given my +sacred promise, and no matter what the cost may be I will not break my +word." + +"I do not press you. But may I see Mrs. Hillmer again? When she is +calmer I might reason with her." + +The other placed his hand on Bruce's shoulder, and his voice was very +impressive, though shaken by strong emotion: + +"Believe me," he said, "it is better that you should not see her. It +will be useless. She is leaving London, not to avoid consequences, but +to get away from painful memories. Her departure will be quite open, and +her place of residence known to any one who cares to inquire. One thing +she is immovable in. She will never reveal to a living soul what she +knows of Lady Dyke's death. She would rather suffer any punishment at +the hands of the law." + +"Don't you understand that this man, Montgomery, is now known to the +police. Sooner or later he will be found and asked to explain any +connection he may have had with the crime. Why not accomplish quietly +that which will perforce be done through the uncompromising channels of +Scotland Yard?" + +"Your reasoning appears to be good, but--" + +"But folly must prevail?" + +"Put it that way if you like." + +"So this wretched imbroglio may cost you the love of a charming and +devoted girl?" + +"Heaven help me, it may--probably will." + +"I swear to you," cried the barrister, who was unusually excited, "that +I will tear the heart out of this mystery before the week expires." + +Mensmore bowed silently and would have left the room, but Smith entered. +In their distraction they had not heard the bell ring. Smith handed a +card to his master. Instantly Bruce controlled himself. His admiration +for the dramatic sequence of events overcame his eagerness as an actor. +It was with an appreciative smile that he said, without the slightest +reference to Mensmore: + +"Show the lady in." + +Mensmore was passing out, but the sight of the visitor drove him back as +though he had been struck. It was Phyllis Browne. + +Her recognition of him was a bright smile. She advanced to Bruce, saying +pleasantly: + +"I am glad to meet you, though the manner of my call is somewhat +unconventional. I heard much of you from Bertie in the Riviera, and more +since my return to town." + +He suitably expressed his delight at this apparition. Mensmore, not +knowing what to do, stood awkwardly at the other end of the room. + +Neither of the others paid the least heed to him. + +"Of course I had a definite object in coming to see you, Mr. Bruce," +went on the young lady. "I have been coolly told that, because somebody +killed somebody else some months ago, a young gentlemen who asked me to +be his wife, is not only not going to marry me but intends to spend the +rest of his life in Central Africa or China--anywhere in fact but where +I may be." + +"A most unwise resolve," said the barrister. + +"So I thought. You appear to hold the key to the situation; and, as it +is an easy matter to trace you through the Directory, here I am. My +people think I am skating at St. James's." + +"Well, Miss Browne," said Claude, "I am neither judge nor jury nor +counsel for the prosecution, but there is the culprit. I hand him over +to you." + +"Yes; but that goose didn't kill anybody, did he?" + +"No." + +"And I am sure his sister did not; from what little I saw of her she +would not hurt a fly." + +"Quite true." + +"Then why don't you find the man who caused all the +mischief--and--and--lock him up at least, so that he cannot go on +injuring people?" + +Miss Phyllis was very brave and self-confident at the outset. Now she +was on the verge of tears, for Mensmore's saddened face and depressed +manner unnerved her more than his passionate words at their last +interview. + +"You ask me a straight question," replied Bruce, though his eyes were +fixed on Mensmore, "and I will give you a straight answer. I _will_ find +the man who killed Lady Dyke. As you say, it is time his capacity for +doing injury to others should be limited. Before many days have passed +Mr. Mensmore will come to you and beg your pardon for his hasty and +quite unwarranted resolve." + +"Do you hear that, Bertie?" cried the girl. "Didn't I tell you so?" + +Mensmore came forward to her side of the table. + +"I need not wait, Phil, dear," he said simply. "I ask your pardon now. +This business is in the hands of Providence. I was foolish to think that +anything I could do would stave off the inevitable." + +"And if you have--to go--to China--you w-will take me with you?" + +Bruce looked out of the window, whistled, and said loudly, addressing a +beautiful lady in short skirts who figured in a poster across the way: + +"Let me ring for some tea. All this talk makes one dry." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +LADY HELEN MONTGOMERY'S SON + + +When the young people had gone--Mensmore ill at ease, though tremuously +happy that Phyllis had so demonstrated her trust in him, Phyllis herself +radiantly confident in the barrister's powers to set everything +right--Bruce devoted himself to the task of determining a new line for +his energies. + +The first step was self-evident. He must ascertain if the Dykes knew a +Colonel Montgomery. + +He drove to the Club frequented by Sir Charles, but the baronet was not +there, so he went to Wensley House. + +Sir Charles was at home, in his accustomed nook by the library fire. He +looked ill and low-spirited. The temporary animation he had displayed +during the past few weeks was gone. If anything, he was more listless +than at any time since his wife's death. + +"Well, Claude," he said wearily, "anything to report?" + +"Yes, a good deal." + +"What is it?" + +"I want to ask you something. Did you ever know a Colonel Montgomery, or +was your wife acquainted with any one of that name to your knowledge?" + +"I do not think she was. Had she ever met such a man I should probably +have heard of him. Who was he?" + +The baronet's low state rendered his words careless and indefinite, but +his friend did not wish to bother him unduly. + +"The police have discovered," he said, "that Mrs. Hillmer formed a close +intimacy with some one whom she designated by that name and rank, though +I have failed to trace any British officer who answers to his +description. He disappeared, or died, as some people put it, about the +same time as your wife." + +"Is it not known what became of him, then?" + +"No." + +"Won't Mrs. Hillmer tell you?" + +"She absolutely refuses to give any help, whatever." + +"On what ground?" + +"That is best known to herself. My theory is that a man she loves is +implicated in the affair, and she is prepared to go to any lengths to +shield him." + +"Ah!" + +Sir Charles bent over and poked the fire viciously. Then he murmured: +"Women are queer creatures, Bruce. We men never understand them until +too late. My wife and I did not to all appearance care a jot for one +another while she lived. Yet I now realize that she loved me, and I +would give the little remaining span of existence, dear as life is, to +see her once more." + +This was a morbid subject; the younger man tried to switch him off it. + +"It is almost clear to me," he said, "that Colonel Montgomery's name was +assumed. Few people realize the use of the _alias_ made in modern life. +I have a notion that the custom among otherwise honorable people has +arisen from the publicity given to the fact that Royal and other +distinguished personages frequently choose to conceal their identity +under less known territorial titles." + +"The idea is ingenious. We are all slaves to fashion." + +"However that may be, it should not be a difficult task to lay hands on +the gentleman should he be still living." + +"Suppose you succeed. How can you connect him with my wife's death?" + +"At this moment I am unable to say. But the cabman might be of some +use." + +"The cabman. What cabman?" + +"Did I omit that? I ought to have told you that I have found the driver +of the four-wheeler in which your poor wife was taken, dead or +insensible, from Sloane Square to Putney." + +"What an extraordinary thing!" + +"What is?" + +"That you should have forgotten to inform me of such a striking fact." + +"Not so. Now that I recollect, I have not had the opportunity. It was +impossible to discuss anything else but that forged letter on the last +two occasions we met, and it was only a few hours prior to your visit on +Monday that I got the cabman's story fully. By the way, do you now see +any reason why Jane Harding should have tried to deceive you in such a +manner?" + +The barrister perceived that Sir Charles was nervous and irritable, so +he deemed it a needless strain to enlarge on the history of his +discovery of Foxey. + +"I am tired of letters, and plots, and mysteries. My life is resolving +into one huge note of interrogation. Soon the great question of eternity +will dominate all others." + +Dyke's mood unfitted him for sustained conversation. Bruce could but +pity him, and hope that time would calm his fevered brain, and soothe +the unrest that shed this gloom over him. + +"Really," said Claude, after a long interval, during which both men +sought inspiration from the dancing flames in the fireplace, "really +this is too bad of you, Dyke. You showed a marked improvement for a +little space, and now you are letting yourself slip back into a state of +lonely and unoccupied moping again." + +"My thoughts find me both occupation and company," was the despondent +reply. + +"There is nothing for it," continued Bruce cheerfully, "but a tour round +the world. You must start immediately. A complete change of scene and +surroundings will soon pull you back to a normal state of mind and +health." + +"I have been thinking of a long journey for some time past." + +The barrister glanced sharply at his friend. The _double entente_ was +not lost on him. Dyke was in a depressed and nervous condition. The +uncertainty regarding his wife's fate was harassing him unduly and it +was with a twinge of conscience that Bruce reflected upon his own +eagerness to pursue a quest which, by very reason of its indefiniteness, +attracted him as an intellectual pursuit. + +"Look here," he cried, on the spur of the moment, "I have long desired +to see the Canadian Pacific route. Will you arrange to start West with +me a fortnight hence? We can return when the spirit moves us." + +"We will see. We will see. To-day I feel unable to decide anything." + +"Yes, I know, but the mere fact that you take the resolution will serve +to reanimate you." + +"It is very good of you, Claude, to trouble so about me. Had you asked +me earlier I might have gone straight away. But let it rest for a little +while. When I have recovered my spirits somewhat I will come to you to +ask you to sail next day, or something of the sort." + +Beyond this, the other could not move him. + +There was one link in the chain of evidence that would be irrefragable +if discovered. Was this "Colonel Montgomery" in any way connected with +the house at Putney where the murderer had disposed of the body? If this +could be established, the unknown visitor to Raleigh Mansions would +experience a good deal of difficulty in clearing himself of suspicion. +Bruce was certain that, once the "Colonel" was traced, much would come +to light explanatory of Mrs. Hillmer's, and her brother's, dread lest +his identity should be discovered. + +An inquiry addressed to the house agents to whom possible tenants were +referred elicited the information that the present owner, a lady, was +prepared to let the house annually or on a lease. They enclosed an order +to view, which Bruce retained in case he should happen to need it. + +A second letter gave him the address of the lady's solicitors, Messrs. +Small & Sharp, Lincoln's Inn. + +He called on them as a possible tenant, with a desire to purchase the +property outright if his proposal could be entertained. + +Mr. Sharp, the partner who dealt with the estate, became very suave when +the suggestion reached his ears. + +"You will understand, Mr. Bruce, that your request requires some +consideration. The rent my client asks is comparatively low, because the +house is old-fashioned, but the splendid riparian position of the +property, a free-hold acre on the banks of the Thames at Putney, gives +it a highly increased future value. Any figure you may have based on a +rental calculation would therefore--" + +"Not meet the case at all," said the barrister, repressing a smile at +the familiar opening move in the game of bargaining. + +"Precisely." + +"May I ask who the present owner is?" + +"Certainly, the lady's name is Small. In fact, she is my partner's wife. +Her father, the late Rev. Septimus Childe, purchased the estate some +years ago, largely because the house suited his requirements as the head +of a successful private school." + +"Has the estate changed hands frequently then?" + +"Oh, dear, no. Indeed, it is well understood that the Rev. Mr. Childe +acquired it more as a friendly transaction than otherwise. The estate is +a portion of the separate estate of the late Lady Helen Montgomery, who +married Sir William Dyke, father of the present baronet, who +perhaps--good gracious, my dear sir, what is the matter?" + +Had Bruce been a woman he must have fainted. + +As it was, the shock of the intelligence nearly paralyzed him. Sir +Charles Dyke!--Montgomery!--The house at Putney the property of his +mother! What new terror did not this frightful combination suggest? + +Why did his friend conceal from him these most important facts? Why +did he pretend ignorance not only of the locality but of his mother's +maiden name? Like lightning the remembrance flashed through Bruce's +troubled brain that he had only heard of the earlier Lady Dyke as a +daughter of the Earl of Tilbury. A suspicion--profoundly horrible, yet +convincing--was slowly mastering him, and every second brought further +proof not only of its reasonableness, but of its ghastly and inflexible +certainty. + +Again the lawyer's voice reached his ears, dully and thin, as though it +penetrated through a wall. + +"Surely, you feel ill? Let me get you some brandy." + +"No--no," murmured the barrister. "It is but a momentary faintness. I--I +think I will go out into the fresh air. Are you--quite sure--that Mr. +Childe bought the property from Lady Helen Montgomery's trustees?" + +"Quite sure. If you wait even a few moments I will show you the +title-deeds." + +"No, thank you. I will call again. Pray excuse me." + +Somehow Bruce crossed the quiet square of the Inn, and plunged into +the turmoil of the street. Amid the bustle of Holborn he had a +curious sensation of safety. The fiend so suddenly installed in his +consciousness was less busy here suggesting strange and maddening +thoughts. + +Why--why--why--fifty questions beat incessantly against the barrier of +agonized negation he strove to set up, but the noise of traffic made +the attack confused. Each incautious bump against a passer-by silenced +a demand, each heavy crunch of a 'bus on the gravel-strewed roadway +temporarily silenced a doubt. + +He was so unmanned that he felt almost on the verge of tears. He +absolutely dared not attempt to reason out the fearful alternative which +had so fiercely thrust itself upon him. + +At last he became vaguely aware that people were staring at him. Fearful +lest some acquaintance should recognize and accost him he hailed a +hansom and drove to Victoria Street. + +All the way the heavy beat of the horse's feet served to distract his +thoughts. He forced himself to count the quick paces, and tried hard to +accommodate the numerals of two or more syllables to the rapidity of the +animal's trot. He failed in this, but in the failure found relief. + +Nevertheless, though the horse was willing and the driver eager to +oblige a fare who gave a "good" address, the time seemed interminable +until the cab stopped in front of his door. + +Once arrived there, he slowly ascended the stairs to his own flat, told +Smith to pay the cabman half-a-crown and to admit no one, and threw +himself into a chair. + +At last he was face to face with the troublous demon who possessed him +in Lincoln's Inn, struggled with him through the crowd, and travelled +with him in the hansom. Phyllis Browne should have her answer sooner +than he had expected. + +The man who murdered Lady Dyke was her own husband. + +"Oh, heavens!" moaned Bruce, as he swayed restlessly to and fro in his +chair, "is it possible?" + +He sat there for hours. Smith entered, turned on the lights and +suggested tea, but received an impatient dismissal. + +After another long interval Smith appeared again, to announce that Mr. +White had called. + +"Did you not say I was out?" said Claude, his hollow tones and haggard +air startling his faithful servitor considerably. + +"Yes, sir--oh yes, sir. But that's no use with Mr. White. 'E said as 'ow +'e were sure you were in." + +"Ask him to oblige me by coming again--to-morrow. I am very ill. I +really cannot see him." + +Smith left the room only to return and say: "Mr. White says, sir, 'is +business is of the _hutmost_ himportance. 'E can't leave it; and 'e says +you will be very sorry afterwards if you don't see 'im now." + +"Oh, so be it," cried Bruce, turning to a spirit-stand to seek +sustenance in a stiff glass of brandy. "Send him in." + +Quite awed by circumstances, Smith admitted the detective and closed the +door upon the two men, who stood looking at each other without a word of +greeting or explanation. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +MR. WHITE'S METHOD + + +The policeman spoke first. "Has Jane Harding been here, then?" he said. + +His words conveyed no meaning to his hearer. + +They were so incongruous, so ridiculously unreasoning, that Bruce +laughed hysterically. + +"You must have seen her," cried the detective excitedly. "I know you +have learned the truth, and in no other way that I can imagine could it +have reached you." + +"Learnt what truth?" + +"That Sir Charles Dyke himself is at the bottom of all this business." + +"Indeed. How have you blundered upon that solution?" + +"Mr. Bruce, this time I am right, and you know it. It was Sir Charles +Dyke who killed his wife. Nobody else had anything else to do with it, +so far as I can guess. But if you haven't seen Jane Harding, I wonder +how you found out." + +"You are speaking in riddles. Pray explain yourself." + +"If Sir Charles Dyke had not been out of town, the riddle would have +been answered by this time in the easiest way, as I should have locked +him up." + +"Excellent. You remain faithful to tradition." + +"Mr. Bruce, please don't try to humbug me, for the sake of your friend. +I am quite in earnest. I have come to you for advice. Sir Charles Dyke +is guilty enough." + +"And what do you want me to do?" + +"To help me to adopt the proper course. The whole thing seems so +astounding that I can hardly trust my own senses. I spoke hastily just +now. I would not have touched Sir Charles before consulting you. I was +never in such a mixed-up condition in my life." + +Whatever the source of his information, the detective had evidently +arrived at the same conclusion as Bruce himself. There was nothing for +it but to endeavor to reason out the situation calmly and follow the +best method of dealing with it suggested by their joint intelligence. +Claude motioned the detective to a chair, imposed silence by a look, and +summoned Smith. He was faint from want of food. With returning +equanimity he resolved first to restore his strength, as he would need +all his powers to wrestle with events before he slept that night. + +Mr. White, nothing loth, joined him in a simple meal, and by tacit +consent no reference was made to the one engrossing topic in their +thoughts until the table was cleared. + +"And now, Mr. White," demanded the barrister, "what have you found out?" + +"During the last two days," he replied, "I have been unsuccessfully +trying to trace Colonel Montgomery. No matter what I did I failed. I got +hold of several of Mrs. Hillmer's tradespeople, but she always paid her +bills with her own cheques, and none of them had ever heard of a Colonel +Montgomery. That furniture business puzzled me a lot--the change of the +drawing-room set from one flat to another on November 7, I mean. So I +discovered the address of the people who supplied the new articles to +Mrs. Hillmer--" + +"How?" + +"Through the maid, Dobson. Mrs. Hillmer has given her notice to leave, +and the girl is furious about it, as she appears to have had a very easy +place there. I think it came to Mrs. Hillmer's ears that she talked to +me." + +"I see. Proceed." + +"Here I hit upon a slight clue. It was a gentleman who ordered the new +furniture, and directed the transfer of the articles replaced from No. +61 to No. 12 Raleigh Mansions. He did this early in the morning of +November 7, and the foreman in charge of the job remembered that there +was some bother about it, as neither Mrs. Hillmer nor Mr. Corbett, as +Mensmore used to be called, knew anything about it. But the gentleman +came the same morning and explained matters. It struck the foreman as +funny that there should be such a fearful hurry about refurnishing a +drawing-room, for the gentleman did not care what the cost was so long +as the job was carried out at express speed. Another odd thing was that +Mrs. Hillmer paid for the articles, though she had not ordered them nor +did she appear to want them. The man was quite sure that Mensmore's +first knowledge of the affair came with the arrival of the first batch +of articles from Mrs. Hillmer's flat, but he could only describe the +mysterious agent as being a regular swell. He afterwards identified a +portrait of Sir Charles Dyke as being exactly like the man he had seen, +if not the man himself." + +"How did you come to have a portrait of Sir Charles in your possession?" + +"That appears later," said the detective, full of professional pride at +the undoubtedly smart manner in which he had manipulated his facts once +they were placed in order before him. + +"Of course," he went on, "I jumped at the conclusion that the stranger +was this Colonel Montgomery. Then, while closely questioning the maid +about the events of November 7, she suddenly remembered that she lost an +old skirt and coat about that time. They had vanished from her room, and +she had never laid eyes on them since. This set me thinking. I +confronted her with the clothes worn by Lady Dyke when she was found in +the river, and I'm jiggered if Dobson didn't recognize them at once as +being her missing property. Now, wasn't that a rum go?" + +"It certainly was," said Bruce, who was piecing together the story of +the murder in his mind as each additional detail came to light. + +"Naturally I thought harder than ever after that. It then occurred to me +that Jane Harding must have had some powerful reasons for so suddenly +shutting up about the identification of her mistress's underclothing. +She was right enough, as we know, in regard to the skirt and coat, but +she admitted to me that the linen on the dead body was just the same as +Lady Dyke's. Curiously enough, it was not marked by initials, crest, or +laundry-mark, and I ascertained months ago that owing to some fad of her +ladyship's, all the family washing was done on the estate in Yorkshire. +This explained the absence of the otherwise inevitable laundry-mark." + +"Thus far you are coherence itself." + +"Well," said Mr. White complacently, "I was a long time getting to work, +Mr. Bruce, and had it not been for your help I should probably never +have got at the truth, but I flatter myself that, once on the right +track, I seldom leave it. However, as I was saying, I felt that Jane +Harding knew a good deal more than she would tell, except under +pressure, so I decided to put that pressure on." + +"In what way?" + +"I frightened her. Played off on her a bit of the stage business she is +so fond of. This afternoon I placed a pair of handcuffs in my pocket and +went to her place at Bloomsbury, having previously prepared a bogus +warrant for her arrest on a charge of complicity in the murder of Lady +Dyke." + +"It was a dangerous game!" + +"Very. If it had gone wrong and reached the ears of the Commissioner or +got into the papers, I should have been reduced or dismissed. But what +is a policeman to do in such cases? I was losing my temper over this +infernal inquiry and never obtaining any real light, though always +coming across startling developments. It had to end somehow, and I took +the chance. The make-believe warrant and the production of handcuffs for +a woman--they are never used, you know, in reality--have often been +trump-cards for us when everything else failed." + +"This time, then, the 'properties' made up the 'show,' as Miss Harding +would put it?" + +"They did, and no mistake. I gave her no time to think or act. I found +her sitting with her mother, admiring a new carpet she had just laid +down. I said, 'Is your name Jane Harding, now engaged at the Jollity +Theatre, under the alias of Marie le Marchant, but formerly a maid in +the service of Lady Dyke?' She grew very white, and said 'Yes,' while +her mother clutched hold of her, terrified. Then I whipped out the +warrant and the cuffs. My, but you should have heard them squeal when +the bracelets clinked together. 'What has my child done?' screamed the +mother. 'Perhaps nothing, madam,' I answered; 'but she is guilty in the +eyes of the law just the same if she persists in screening the guilty +parties.' Jane Harding was trembling and blubbering, but she said, 'It +is very hard on me. I have done nothing.' I trembled myself then, as I +feared that she might offer to come with me to the police station, in +which case I should have been dished. But the mother fixed the affair +splendidly. 'I am sure my daughter will not conceal anything,' she said, +'and it is a shame to disgrace her in this way without telling what it +is you want to know.' I took the cue in an instant. 'I am empowered,' I +said, 'to suspend this warrant, and perhaps do away with it altogether, +if she answers my questions fully and truthfully.' 'Why, of course she +will,' said the mother, and the girl, though desperately upset, +whimpered her agreement. With that I got the whole story." + +"Sir Charles Dyke inspired her actions, I suppose." + +"From the very beginning almost. At first Jane Harding herself believed, +when she gave evidence at the inquest, that the body she saw was not +that of Lady Dyke; but afterwards she changed her opinion, especially +when she recalled the exact pattern and materials of the underclothing. +Then my inquiries put her on the scent. Being rather a sharp girl, she +jumped to the conclusion that Sir Charles knew more about the matter +than he professed. In any case, her place was gone, and she would soon +be dismissed, so she resolved on a plan even bolder than mine in +threatening to lock her up. She watched her opportunity, found Sir +Charles alone one day, and told him that from certain things within her +knowledge, she thought it her duty to go to the police-station. He was +startled, she could see, and asked her to explain herself. She said that +her mistress had been killed, and she might be able to put the police on +the right track. He hesitated, not knowing what to say; so she hinted +that it would mean a lot of trouble for her, and she would prefer, if +she had £500, to go to America, and let the matter drop altogether. He +told her that he did not desire to have Lady Dyke's name brought into +public notoriety. Sooner than to allow such a thing to occur he would +give her the money. An hour later he handed her fifty ten-pound notes." + +"What a wretched mistake," cried Bruce involuntarily. This unmasking of +his unfortunate friend's duplicity was the most painful feature of all +to him. + +"Perhaps it was," replied the detective, "but the thing is not yet quite +clear to me. That is why I am here. But to continue. The girl admitted +that she lost her head a bit. Instead of leaving the house openly, +without attracting comment, she simply bolted, thus giving rise to the +second sensational element attending Lady Dyke's disappearance. But she +resolved to be faithful to her promise. When you found her she held her +tongue, and even wrote to Sir Charles to assure him that she had not +spoken a word to a soul. He sent for her, and pitched into her about not +going to America, but took her address in case he wished to see her +again." + +"He recognized her letter-writing powers, no doubt." + +"Evidently. She was surprised last Thursday week to receive a telegram +asking her to meet him at York Station. When she arrived there he asked +her to write the letter he handed to you and to post it in London on +Saturday evening. He explained that his action was due to his keen +anxiety to shield his wife's name, and that this letter would settle the +affair altogether. As he handed her another bundle of notes, and +promised to settle £100 a year on her for life, she was willing enough +to help him. During your interview with her you guessed the reason why +she wrote Lady Dyke's hand so perfectly. She had copied it for three +years." + +"All this must have astonished you considerably?" + +"Mr. Bruce, astonished isn't the word. I was flabbergasted! Once she +started talking I let her alone, only rattling the handcuffs when she +seemed inclined to stop. But all the time I felt as if the top of my +head had been blown off." + +"I imagine she had not much more to tell you?" + +"She pitched into you as the cause of all the mischief, and went so far +as to say that she was sure it was not Sir Charles who killed Lady Dyke, +but you yourself." + +Bruce winced at Jane Harding's logic. Were he able to retrieve the past +three months the mystery of Lady Dyke's death would have remained a +mystery forever. + +"Now about the photograph," said the detective. "After I had left Jane +Harding with a solemn warning to speak to no one until I saw her again, +I made a round of the fashionable photographers and soon obtained an +excellent likeness of Sir Charles. I showed it to Dobson, and she said: +'That is Colonel Montgomery.' I showed it to the foreman of the +furniture warehouse, and he said: 'That is the image of the man who +ordered Mrs. Hillmer's suite.' Now, what on earth is the upshot of this +business to be? I called at Wensley House, but was told Sir Charles was +not in town. Had he been in, I would not have seen him until I had +discussed matters with you." + +"That is very good of you, Mr. White. May I ask your reason for showing +him this consideration?" + +The policeman, who was very earnest and very excited, banged his hand on +the table as he cried: + +"Don't you see what all this amounts to? I have no option but to arrest +Sir Charles Dyke for the murder of his wife." + +"That is a sad conclusion." + +"And do you believe he killed her?" + +"Strange as it may seem to you, I do not." + +"And I'm jiggered if I do either." + +"I--I am greatly obliged to you, White." + +Claude bent his head almost to his knees, and for some minutes there was +complete silence. When he again looked at the detective there were tears +in his eyes. + +"What can we do to unravel this tangled skein without creating untold +mischief?" he murmured. + +"It beats me, sir," was the perplexed answer. "But when I came in I +imagined that Jane Harding or some one had been to see you. Surely, you +had learned something of all this before my arrival?" + +"Yes, indeed. I had reached your goal, but by a different route. +Unfortunately, my discovery only goes to confirm yours." + +Bruce then told him of his visit to the lawyer's office, and its result. +Mr. White listened to the recital with knitted brows. + +"It is very clear," he said, when the barrister had ended, "that Lady +Dyke was killed in Mrs. Hillmer's flat, that Sir Charles knew of her +death, that he himself conveyed the body to the river bank at Putney, +and that ever since he has tried to throw dust in our eyes and prevent +any knowledge of the true state of affairs reaching us." + +"Your summary cannot be disputed in the least particular." + +"Well, Mr. Bruce, we must do _something_. If you don't like to +interfere, then _I_ must." + +"There is but one person in the world who can enlighten us as to the +facts. That person obviously is Sir Charles Dyke himself." + +"Unquestionably." + +Bruce looked at his watch. It was 10.30 P.M. He rose. + +"Let us go to him," he said. + +"But he is not in London." + +"He is. I expect you will find that he gave orders for no one to be +admitted, and told the servants to say he had left town to make the +denial more emphatic." + +"It will be a terrible business, I fear, Mr. Bruce." + +"I dread it--on my soul I do. But I cannot shirk this final attempt to +save my friend. My presence may tend to help forward a final and full +explanation. No matter what the pain to myself, I must be present. Come, +it is late already!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +SIR CHARLES DYKE'S JOURNEY + + +The streets were comparatively deserted as they drove quickly up +Whitehall and crossed the south side of Trafalgar Square. It is a common +belief, even among Londoners themselves, that the traffic is dense in +the main thoroughfares at all hours of the night until twelve o'clock +has long past. + +But to the experienced eye there is a marked hiatus between half-past +nine and eleven o'clock. At such a time Charing Cross is negotiable, +Piccadilly Circus loses much of its terror, and a hansom may turn out of +Regent Street into Oxford Street without the fare being impelled to +clutch convulsively at the brass window-slide in a make-believe effort +to save the vehicle from being crushed like a walnut shell between two +heavy 'buses. + +Such considerations did not appeal to the barrister and his companion on +this occasion. + +For some inexplicable cause they both felt that they were in a desperate +hurry. + +A momentary stoppage at the turn into Orchard Street caused each man to +swear, quite unconsciously. Now that the supreme moment in this most +painful investigation was at hand they resented the slightest delay. +Though they were barely fifteen minutes in the cab, it seemed an hour +before they alighted at Wensley House, Portman Square. + +In response to an imperative ring a footman appeared. Instead of +answering the barrister's question as to whether Sir Charles was at home +or not, he said: "You are Mr. Bruce, sir, aren't you?" + +"Yes." + +"Sir Charles is at home, but he retired to his room before dinner. He is +not well, and he may have gone to bed, but he said that if you came you +were to be admitted. I will ask Mr. Thompson." + +"Better send Thompson to me," said Bruce decisively; and in a minute the +old butler stood before him. + +"I hear that Sir Charles has retired for the night," said Claude. + +Thompson had caught sight of the detective standing on the steps. A few +hours earlier he had himself told him that the baronet was out of town. +It was an awkward dilemma, and he coughed doubtingly while he racked his +brains for a judicious answer. + +But Bruce grasped his difficulty. "It is all right, Thompson. Mr. White +quite understands the position. Do you think Sir Charles is in bed?" + +"I will go and see, sir. He was very anxious that you should be sent +upstairs if you called. But that was when he was in the library." + +Bruce and the detective entered the hall, the butler closed the door +behind them, and then solemnly ascended the stairs to Sir Charles Dyke's +bedroom, which was situated on the first floor along a corridor towards +the back of the house. + +They distinctly heard the polite knock at the door and Thompson's query, +"Are you asleep, Sir Charles?" + +After a pause, there was another knock, and the same question in a +slightly louder key. + +Then the butler returned, saying as he came down the stairs: + +"Sir Charles seems to be sound asleep, sir." + +Bruce and the detective exchanged glances. The barrister was +disappointed, almost perturbed, but he said: + +"In that case we will not disturb him. Sir Charles does not often retire +so early." + +"No, sir. I have never known him to go to his room so early before. He +told me not to serve dinner, as he wasn't well. He would not let me get +anything for him. He just took some wine, and I have not seen him +since." + +"Since when?" + +"About 7.30, sir." + +Bruce turned to depart, but Thompson, with the privilege of an old +servant when talking to one whom he knew to be on familiar terms with +his master, whispered: + +"That there blessed maid turned up again this afternoon, sir." + +The barrister started violently. + +"Not Jane Harding, surely?" + +"Yes, sir. She came at four o'clock and asked for Sir Charles, as bold +as brass." + +"Did he see her?" + +"Oh yes, sir." + +"Do you hear that, White?" + +The detective nodded. + +"She must have reached the house about half-an-hour before me," he said, +addressing the butler. + +"That's about right, sir." + +"But I understood," went on Bruce, "that Sir Charles was not at home to +ordinary callers?" + +Thompson shuffled about somewhat uneasily. He wished now he had held his +tongue. + +"I had my orders, sir," he murmured, in extenuation of his apparently +diverse actions. + +"Tell me what your orders were," persisted Bruce. + +The man hesitated, not wishful to offend his master's friend, but too +well trained to reveal the explicit instructions given him by Sir +Charles Dyke. + +"Do not be afraid. I will explain everything to Sir Charles personally. +We cannot best judge what to do--whether to wake him or not--unless we +know the position," went on the barrister. + +Thus absolved from blame, Thompson took from his waistcoat pocket a +folded sheet of notepaper. + +"I don't pretend to understand the reason, sir," he said, "but Sir +Charles wrote this himself, and told me to be careful to obey him +exactly." + +The barrister eagerly grasped the note and read: + + "If Mr. Bruce, Jane Harding, or Mrs. Hillmer should call, admit + any of them immediately. To all others say that I have left + town--some days ago, should they ask you. + + "C. D." + +White, round-eyed and bullet-headed, gazed with goggle orbs over Bruce's +shoulder. + +"That settles it, Mr. Bruce," he said. "We _must_ see him." + +"Thompson," said Bruce, "does Sir Charles usually lock his door?" + +"Never, sir." + +"Very well. Knock again, and then try the door. We will go with you." + +Something in the barrister's manner rather than his words sent a cold +shiver down the old butler's spine. + +"I do hope there's nothing wrong, sir," he commenced; but Bruce was +already half-way up the stairs. Both he and White guessed what had +happened. They knew that poor Thompson's repeated summons at the bedroom +door would remain forever unanswered--that the unfortunate baronet had +quitted the dread certainties of this world for the uncertainties of the +next. + +They were not mistaken. A few minutes later they found him listlessly +drooping over the side of the chair in which he was seated, partly +undressed, and seemingly overcome at the moment when he was about to +take off his boots. + +On a table near him were two bottles, both half-emptied, and an empty +wineglass. Each of the bottles bore the label of a well-known chemist. +One was endorsed "Sleeping-draught," the other "Poison," and "Chloral." + +The three men were pale as the limp, inanimate form in the chair while +they silently noted these details. Bruce raised the head of his friend +in the hope that life might not yet be extinct. But Sir Charles Dyke had +taken his measures effectually. Though the _rigor mortis_ had not set +in, he had evidently been dead some time. + +Thompson, quite beside himself with grief, dropped to his knees by his +master's side. + +"Sir Charles!" he wailed. "Sir Charles! For the love of Heaven, speak to +us. You can't be dead. Oh, you can't. It ain't fair. You're too young to +die. What curse has come upon the house that both should go?" + +Bruce leaned over and shook the old butler firmly by the shoulder. + +"Thompson," he said impressively, for now that the crisis he feared had +come and gone, he exercised full control over himself. "Thompson, if you +ever wished to serve Sir Charles you must do so now by remaining calm. +For his sake, help us, and do not create an unnecessary scene." + +Governed by the more powerful nature, the affrighted man struggled to +his feet. + +"What shall I do?" he whimpered. "Shall I send for a doctor?" + +"Yes; say Sir Charles is very ill. Not a word to a soul about what has +happened until we have carefully examined the room." + +At that instant Mr. White caught sight of a large and bulky envelope, +which had fallen to the floor near the chair on which Sir Charles was +seated. + +Picking it up, he found it was addressed, "Claude Bruce, Esq. To be +delivered to him _at once_." + +"This will explain matters, I expect," said the detective. + +"Whatever could have come to my master to do such a thing?" groaned +Thompson, turning to reach the door. + +"Come back," cried Bruce sharply. "Now, look here, Thompson," he went +on, placing both his hands on the butler's shoulders and looking him +straight in the eyes, "it is imperative that you should pull yourself +together. That sort of remark will never do. Sir Charles has simply +taken an over-dose of chloral accidentally. He has slept badly ever +since Lady Dyke's death, you understand, and has been in the habit of +taking sleeping-draughts. Now, before you leave the room tell me exactly +what has happened, in your own language." + +"I can't put it together now, sir, but I won't say anything to anybody. +You can trust me for that. Why, I loved him as my own son, I did." + +"Yes, I know that well. But remember. An over-dose. An accident. Nothing +else. Do you follow me?" + +"Quite, sir. Heaven help us all." + +"Very well. Now send for the doctor, without needlessly alarming the +other servants." + +Bruce placed the envelope in the pocket of his overcoat, saying to the +detective: + +"We will examine this later, White. Just now we must do what we can to +avoid a scandal. The case between Lady Dyke and her husband will be +settled by a higher tribunal than we had counted upon." + +"It certainly _looks_ like an accident, Mr. Bruce," was the answer, "but +it all depends upon the view the doctor takes. And you know, of course, +that I shall have to report the actual facts to my superiors." + +"That is obvious. Yet no harm is done at this early stage in taking such +steps as may finally render undue publicity needless. It may be +impossible; but on the other hand, until we have heard Sir Charles's +version, contained, I suppose, in this letter to me, it is advisable to +sustain the theory of an accidental death." + +"Anything I can do to help you will be done," replied the detective. +With that they dropped the subject, and more carefully scrutinized the +room. + +To all intents and purposes Sir Charles Dyke might, indeed, have brought +about the catastrophe inadvertently. The sleeping-draught bore the +ledger number of its prescription, and there is nothing unusual in a +patient striving to help the cautious dose ordered by a physician by the +addition of a more powerful nostrum. + +His partly dressed state, too, argued that he had taken the fatal +mixture at a time when he contemplated retiring to rest forthwith. A +fire still burned in the grate. On the mantelpiece--in a position where +the baronet must see it until the moment when all things faded from his +vision--was a beautiful miniature of his wife. + +The detective, with professional nonchalance, soon sat down. There was +nothing to do but await the arrival of the doctor, and, having heard his +report, go home. + +In the quietude of the room, with the strain relaxed, Bruce was +profoundly moved by the spectacle of his dead friend. Whatever his +logical faculties might argue, he could not regard this man as a +murderer. If Lady Dyke met her death at his hand then it must have been +the result of some terrible mistake--of some momentary outburst of +passion which never contemplated such a sequel. + +Poisons which kill by stupefaction do not distort their victims as in +cases where violent irritants are used. Sir Charles Dyke seemed to live +in a deep sleep, exhausted by toil or pain--sleep the counterfeit of +death--while the bright colors and speaking eyes of the miniature +counterfeited life. Standing between these two--both the mere images of +the man and the woman he had known so well--the barrister insensibly +felt that at last they had peace. + +It was his first experience of the tremendous change in the relationship +established by death. It utterly overpowered him. No mere words could +express his emotions. Between him and those that had been was imposed +the impenetrable wall of eternity. + +A bustle in the hall beneath aroused him from his grief-stricken stupor, +and Mr. White's commonplace tones sounded strange to his ears. + +"Here's the doctor." + +A well-known physician hastened to the room. Thompson had carefully +followed instructions. The doctor was not prepared for the condition of +affairs that a glance revealed to his practised eye. + +"Surely he is not dead?" he cried, looking from the form in the chair to +the two men. + +Bruce answered him: + +"Yes, for some hours, I fear, but we wanted to avoid spreading +unnecessary rumors until--" + +"I understand. My poor friend! How came this to happen?" + +The skilled practitioner merely lifted one of the dead man's eyelids, +and then turned to examine the bottles on the table. + +"My own prescription," he said, after tasting the contents of one phial. +"Ah, this was bad; why did he not consult me?" and he sadly shook his +head as he tasted the remaining liquid in the second. + +"What do you make of it?" said Bruce. + +He looked the other steadily in the face and the doctor interpreted the +cause of his anxiety. + +"A clear case of accidental poisoning," he replied. "Sir Charles has +consulted me several times during the past week on account of his +extreme insomnia. I specifically warned him against overdoing my +treatment. Change of air, exercise, and diet are the true specifics for +sleeplessness, especially when induced, as his was, by a morbid state of +mind." + +"You mean--" + +"That Sir Charles has never recovered from the shock of his wife's +death. I did not know of it myself until it was announced recently, and +I gathered from him that the manner of her demise was partly unaccounted +for. Altogether, it is a sad business that such a couple should be taken +in such a manner." + +Mr. White was industriously taking notes the while, and the doctor +regarded him with a questioning look. + +"This gentleman is in the police," explained Bruce. + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes. We came here by mere accident. Mr. White and I were engaged in an +important inquiry--the cause of Lady Dyke's disappearance, in fact--and +we hurried here at a late hour to consult with Sir Charles. Hence our +presence and this discovery." + +"How strange!" + +"There is no reason now," broke in the detective, "why the body should +not be moved?" + +Claude shuddered at the phrase. It suggested the inevitable. + +"Not in the least. I am quite satisfied as to the cause of death." + +The despatch of telegrams and other necessary details kept Bruce busily +employed until two o'clock. Not until he reached the privacy of his own +library was he able to break the seal of the packet left for him as the +final act and word of the late Sir Charles Dyke. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +HOW LADY DYKE DISAPPEARED + + (_Being the Manuscript left by Sir Charles Dyke, Bart., and + addressed to Claude Bruce, Esq., Barrister-at-law_) + + +It is customary, I believe, for poor wretches who are sentenced to +undergo the last punishment of the law to be allowed a three weeks' +respite between the date of their sentence and that on which they are +executed. I am in the position of such a one. The difference between me +and the convicted felon lies merely in environment; in most respects I +am worse situated than he. My period of agony is longer drawn out, I am +condemned to die by my own hand, I am mocked by the surroundings of +luxury, taunted by the knowledge that though life and even a sort of +happiness are within my reach I must not avail myself of them. + +There may come a time in the affairs of any man when he is compelled to +choose between a dishonored existence and voluntary death. These +unpleasant alternatives are now before me. You, who know me, would never +doubt which of them I should adopt, nor will you upbraid me because our +judgments coincide. There is nothing for it, Bruce, but quiet +death--death in the least obtrusive form, and so disposed that it may be +possible for you, chief among my friends and the only person I can trust +to fulfil my wishes, to arrange that my memory may be speedily +forgotten. My virtues, I fear, will not secure me immortality; my +faults, I hope, will not be spread broadcast to cram the maws of the +gaping crowd. + +I do not shirk this final issue, nor do I crave pity. In setting forth +plainly the history of my wife's death and its results, I am actuated +solely by a desire to protect others from needless suspicion. Having +resolved to pay forfeit for my own errors, I claim to have expiated +them. This document is an explanation, not a confession. + +I have not much time left wherein fittingly to shape my story so as to +be just to all, myself included. If I am not mistaken, the officers of +the law are in hot chase of me, but my statement shall not be made to an +earthly judge. The words of a man about to die may not be well chosen; +they should at least be true. I will tell of events as nearly as +possible in their sequence of time. If I leave gaps through haste or +forgetfulness you will, from your own knowledge of the facts, readily +fill them up once you are in possession of the salient features. + +Mensmore and his sister were the friends of my early years. We played +together as children. Gwendoline Mensmore was two years younger than I, +and I well remember making love to her at the age of eleven. Her mother +died when she was quite a baby, and her father married again, so her +step-brother Albert is her junior by four years. I taught him how to +ride and swim and play cricket. My father's place in Surrey--we +did not acquire the Yorkshire property until the death of my +grandfather--adjoined the estate General Mensmore occupied after his +retirement from the army. + +We children always called Gwendoline "Dick," to avoid the difficulty of +her long-sounding name, I suppose, and I honestly believe that our +respective parents entertained the idea that a marriage between us was +quite a natural thing. I went to school at Brighton, and Mensmore, +being a somewhat precocious lad, joined the same school before I left. +The headmaster, the Rev. Septimus Childe, was an old friend of my +father's, and when he wished to purchase a house at Putney--the terrible +house which has figured in my dreams for the past three months as a +Place of Skulls--my parents put pressure on my mother's trustees to make +the transaction an easy one. Of course, I knew it well. We regarded it +in those early days as a town house, and always lived there during the +season. + +My father's succession to the title and estates changed all that. We +quitted Surrey for Yorkshire, and Wensley House, Portman Square, was a +step upwards from the barrack-like building which so admirably suited +Mr. Childe's requirements. + +When I was at Sandhurst General Mensmore got into difficulties. He +quitted Surrey, and we gradually lost sight of him and his children. +Afterwards I knew that he struggled on for a few years, placed his son +in the army, and then came a complete collapse, ending in his death and +the boy's resignation of his commission. Of Gwendoline Mensmore's +whereabouts I knew nothing. Her memory never quitted me, but the new +interests in my life dulled it. I imagined that I could laugh at a +childish infatuation. + +Then I married. I did so in obedience to my father's wishes, and Alice +was, I suppose, an ideal wife--far too ideal for a youngster of my lower +intellectual plane. I know now that I never had any real affection for +her. I was always somewhat awed by her loftier aspirations. My interests +lay in racing, hunting, sports generally, and having what I defined as +"a good time." She, though an excellent horsewoman, and in every sense +an admirable hostess, thought Newmarket vulgar, treated Ascot as a +social necessity, and turned up her eyebrows at me when I failed to see +any utility in schemes for the reclamation of the submerged tenth. + +Thus, though we never quarrelled, we gradually drifted apart. She knew +she bored me if she asked me to inspect a model dwelling; I knew she +hated the people who were the companions of a coaching tour or a week at +Goodwood. Unfortunately, we were not blessed with offspring. Had it been +otherwise, we might have found a common object of interest in our +children. + +Insensibly, we agreed to a separate existence. We lived together as +friends rather than as husband and wife. We parted without regret and +met without cordiality. Do not think we were unhappy. If our marriage +was not bliss, it was at least comfortable. I think my wife was proud of +my successes on the turf in a quiet kind of way, and I certainly was +proud of her and of the high reputation she enjoyed among all classes of +society. I even reverenced her for it, and I well knew that the +enthusiastic receptions given us by our Yorkshire tenantry were not due +to my efforts in their behalf, but to hers. + +So we lived for nearly six years, and so we might have continued for +sixty had I not met Gwendoline Mensmore again, under vastly changed +circumstances. She was a chorus-girl in a variety theatre, earning a +poor living under wretched conditions. I discovered the fact by mere +chance. + +I met her, and she told me her story--how she had married a man named +Hillmer, whom her father had trusted, and whom she believed to be able +to save them from ruin. Then the crash came. Her father died; her +husband also broke down financially, took to drink and ill-treated her; +her brother was swallowed up somewhere in the Far West. She had no +alternative but to live apart from her husband and try to support +herself by the first career that suggests itself to a young, talented, +and beautiful woman. But she was already weary of the stage and its +distasteful surroundings. Her nature was too delicate for the rude +friendships of the dressing-room. She shuddered at the thought of a mild +carousal in a bar when the labors of the night were ended. + +In a word, were I differently constituted, were she cast in more common +mould, there was apparently ready to hand all the material for a vulgar +_liaison_. + +My respect for my wife, however, no less than Mrs. Hillmer's fine +disposition, saved both of us from folly. Yet I could not leave her +exposed to the exigencies of a life in which she was rapidly becoming +disillusioned. Away in the depths of my heart I knew that this sweet +woman was my true mate, separated from me by adverse chance. There was +nothing unfair to Alice in the thought. Were she questioned at any time, +I suppose, she must have admitted that we were, in some respects, as +ill-matched a couple as we were well-matched in others. You will say +that I understood but little of feminine nature--nothing at all of my +wife's. + +How best to help Mrs. Hillmer--that was the question. It was at this +stage I made the initial mistake to which I can, too late, trace a host +of succeeding misfortunes. I did not consult my wife. Trying now to +analyze my reasons for this lamentable error of judgment I imagined that +it arose from some absurd disinclination on my part to admit that I went +to the stage-door of a theatre to inquire about the identity of a young +woman whom I had recognized from the front of the house. + +Don't you see, my dear Bruce, it is almost as bad to fear your wife as +to suspect her. + +As, at that time, my own life was free from the slightest cloud of +sorrow, I took keen interest in the troubles of Mrs. Hillmer, and I +amused myself by playing, in her behalf, the part of a modern magician. +I felt intuitively that she would resent any direct attempt on my part +to place funds at her disposal, and I found a great deal of harmless fun +in helping her with her consent, but without her actual knowledge. + +I am, as you know, a rich man. At this hour I cannot sum up my available +assets to within £100,000. Altogether I must be worth nearly a million +sterling--yet my money cannot purchase me another day's existence such +as I would tolerate. Strange, is it not? + +Well, the close of the year before last was a period of unexampled +activity on the Stock Exchange, and, by way of a joke, I made some +purchases on Mrs. Hillmer's account, with the intention of pretending to +pay myself out of the profits, while handing her such balances as might +accrue. She is a shrewd woman, and quick at figures, so I might have +experienced some difficulty in deceiving her. But the mad record of the +past twelve months was in no wise belied by its inception. My purchases +were those of a man inspired by the Goddess of Fortune. Stocks which I +bought commenced suddenly to inflate. I astounded my brokers by the +manner in which I ferreted out neglected bonds, mines which struck the +mother lode next week, railway companies whose directors were even then +secretly conspiring to water the stock. + +Mrs. Hillmer became infected with the craze like myself. Twice we +plunged heavily in American Rails and came out triumphantly. To end this +part of my story, after five months of excitement I had contrived not +only to swell my own deposits to a large extent, but I had secured on +Mrs. Hillmer's account a sufficient quantity of reliable stock to bring +her in an average income of £1,500 per annum. + +My greatest difficulty was to persuade Mrs. Hillmer to break off the +habit of speculation once she had contracted it. I found that she +perused the late editions of the evening papers with the same eagerness +that a bookmaker looks for the starting prices of the day's races. By +the exercise of firmness and tact I was able to stop her from further +dealings. + +At the close of this period I need hardly say that two things had +happened. Mrs. Hillmer and I were fast friends, with common objects and +interests in life; and, concurrently, the ties between Alice and myself +had loosened still more. + +I also carelessly made another blunder. Under the pretence that secrecy +was requisite for Stock Exchange transactions, I persuaded Mrs. Hillmer +to allow me to pass under the name of Colonel Montgomery. + +Mrs. Hillmer, of course, was now able to live in comparative luxury. I +came to regard her house as an abode of rest. I was more at home in her +drawing-room than in my own house. She often spoke to me of my wife, and +obviously wished to see her, but here I did a cowardly thing. I +represented my married existence as far less comfortable than it really +was, and gradually Mrs. Hillmer ceased all allusion to Alice. She +misunderstood our relations. I knew it, and did not explain. Not a very +worthy proceeding for a man whose sense of honor is so keen that he +prefers death to disgrace. But one can deceive no other so easily as +oneself. + +Occasionally, when opportunities offered, we went out together. It was +foolish, you will say, and I agree with you. If folly were not pleasant +it would not be so fashionable. But, to this hour, the relations between +us are those only of close friendship. Never in my life have I addressed +her by other than her married name, never have I touched her arm save by +way of casual politeness. + +I really think I flattered myself upon my superior virtues. I could see +all the excellence but none of the stupidity of my behavior. + +About this time, Mrs. Hillmer's husband died. Thenceforth she became +slightly reserved in manner. When life was a defiance she fought +convention, but with safety came prudence. In fact, she told me that my +frequent visits to her house would certainly be ill-construed if they +became known. I was seeking for a pretext to introduce her to her own +set in society, when a double catastrophe occurred. + +My wife discovered, as she imagined, that I was clandestinely occupied +with another woman, and Mrs. Hillmer's brother returned from America. + +It will best serve my hurried narrative if I relate events exactly as +they happened, and not as they look in the light of subsequent +knowledge. + +Mensmore was naturally astounded to find his sister so well provided +for, and gratefully accepted the help she gave him towards resuscitating +his own fortunes. But it did not occur to either of us that he would +take the ordinary view of the bond existing between us, and I shall +never forget his rage when he found out that I was not known to his +sister's servants by my right name. It was an awkward position for all +three. He was loth to allege that which we did not feel called upon to +deny. But between him and me there was a marked coolness, arising from +suspicion on his part and resentment on mine, coupled, I must add, with +an unquiet consciousness that his attitude was not wholly unreasonable. + +Mrs. Hillmer and he discussed the matter several times. He urged that +this compromising friendship should be discontinued. She--a determined +woman when her mind was made up--fought the suggestion on the ground of +unfairness, though, like myself, she would have been glad of any +accident which would alter the position of affairs. + +He interpreted her opposition to different motives. Finally, as his +financial position was a dangerous one, as we afterwards learned, and he +despaired of setting things straight in Raleigh Mansions--judging them +from his own point of view--he resolved to leave England again. + +And now I come to the night of November 6. + +It was, as you will remember, a foggy and unpleasant day. I had some +business in the city which detained me until darkness set in. I had not +seen Mrs. Hillmer for two days, so I resolved to drive to Sloane +Square--travelling by the Underground was intolerable in such +weather--and have tea with her. + +I did not know then that she had gone with her maid to +Brighton--intending to return that evening. It was a sudden whim, she +told me subsequently, and she had not even informed the other servants +of her intention. + +The pavements in the City were slimy with the dampness of the fog, and +as an empty four-wheeler passed through Cornhill I hailed it, a most +unusual choice on my part. The cabman, I noticed, was fairly elevated, +but as these fellows often drive better when drunk than sober, I simply +told him to be careful, and jumped in. I reached Sloane Square all +right, and detained the cab for my intended journey home in time for +dinner. + +At the door of Mrs. Hillmer's flat I met the cook and housemaid, both +going out to do some shopping, probably, in the spare hour before it was +time to prepare dinner. + +They knew me well, of course, and admitted me to the drawing-room, +telling me that Mrs. Hillmer was out, but would surely return very soon. + +I had not been in the room a minute before the sharp double knock of a +telegraph messenger brought the coachman, whom the girls left in charge +of the house, to the door, and I startled the man by appearing in the +hall, as he did not know of my presence. + +"What is it, Simmonds?" I said, as I correctly guessed the message to be +from Mrs. Hillmer. + +"The missus is in Brighton, sir," he answered. "She wants the carriage +to meet her at Victoria at seven o'clock. It's six now, and I ought to +go around to the stables at once, but both these blessed girls have gone +out. I'm in a fair fix." + +"No fix at all," I said. "I want to see Mrs. Hillmer, so I will wait +here until she arrives--or, at all events, till the servants come back." + +The man scratched his head, but he could think of no better plan, so he, +too, went off, and I was left alone, for the first time in my life, in +Mrs. Hillmer's abode. It is the small events that govern our lives, +Claude, not those that stand out prominently. The shopping expedition of +a couple of servant girls, intent on securing a new cap or a few yards +of calico, brought about my wife's death, caused misery to many people, +and ends, I sincerely hope, in my own speedy leap into oblivion. + +I picked up a novel, "Tess of the D'Urbervilles," hit upon the terrible +episode that culminates on Salisbury Plain, and was soon deeply +interested, when another knock--this time an imperative summons long +drawn out--caused me to hasten to the door. + +I opened it, and in the dim light of the staircase landing, for a second +did not recognize the lady who stood outside. Heaven help me, I was soon +enlightened. My wife's voice was bitterly contemptuous as she said: + +"You don't keep a footman, it appears, in your new establishment, +Charles." + +Had I been suddenly struck blind, or paralyzed, I could not have been +more dumfounded than by Alice's unexpected appearance. A thorough +scoundrel might, perhaps, have thought of the best thing to say. I +blurted out the worst. + +"What are you doing _here_?" I stammered when my tongue recovered its +use. + +"No doubt you resent my appearance," she cried, in a high, shrill tone I +had never before heard from her, "but I shall not trouble you further. I +merely came to confirm with my own eyes what my ears refused to +entertain. Now, I am satisfied." + +She half turned with the intention of reaching the street, but, rendered +desperate by the absurdity of my position, I gripped her arm and pulled +her forcibly into the entrance-hall, closing and bolting the door behind +us. + +"You have seen too much not to see more," I cried. "I will not allow you +to ruin both our lives by a mere suspicion." + +She was in a furious temper, but her sense of propriety--for she did not +know that the servants' quarters were empty--restrained her until we had +both entered the drawing-room. + +Then she burst upon me with a torrent of words. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +SIR CHARLES DYKE ENDS HIS NARRATIVE + + +"A mere suspicion, indeed!" she said, and there was that in her voice +which warned me that I had better try unarmed to control a tigress than +a wife who deemed herself wronged; "these are pretty _suspicions_ that +surround you. A house tenanted by another woman where you are evidently +master! A mistress who left the ranks of the ballet, or something of the +sort, living in luxury on means supplied by you! A married woman who +casts off her husband with her poverty, to take up a paramour and +riches! Do you think you can blind my eyes further? I have the most +convincing proofs of your infamy. Do not imagine that on any specious +pretext I will condone your conduct. I despise you from the depths of my +heart. Henceforth I will strive to forget your very existence." + +"Alice," I said, and if she had not been blinded by passion she must +have been affected by my earnestness, "will you listen to me?" + +"Why should I? What respect have you shown to me that I should now seem +even to accept your excuses?" + +"I appeal to you not to do anything in anger. You have good reason to be +enraged with me. I only ask you to suspend your final judgment. Hear +what I have to say, take time for deliberation, for further inquiry, and +then condemn me to any punishment you think fit." + +She did not answer me. Her eyes were roving round the room and taking +stock of every indication of poor Mrs. Hillmer's artistic aptitude. The +place was eminently home-like, much more so than our elegant mansion in +Portman Square, and my wife noted the fact with momentarily increasing +bitterness. Yet I essayed my desperate task with failing nerve and +terrible consciousness of a bad cause. + +"Notwithstanding all that you have seen and heard," I said, "I am not +guilty of the crime you accuse me of. Mrs. Hillmer is an old friend of +mine, whom I have helped from a state of misery to one of comfort and +comparative happiness. She is as pure-minded in thought, as spotless in +character, as you are yourself. You are doing her a grievous injustice +by doubting the relations between her and me. If you only knew her--" + +My wife laughed scornfully. + +"Pray spare yourself, Charles. I have never seen you so interested +before, but you lie badly, nevertheless." + +"I do not lie. Before heaven I am telling you the truth." + +"You are even willing to perjure yourself, _Colonel Montgomery_?" + +My poor armor was ill-fitted for this stroke. I suppose I must have +flinched before it, for she went on: + +"You see I am well posted. My detectives have done their work well. Oh, +Heaven, that I should ever have learned to love a vile wretch like you. +I thought you respected me, at least. I tried hard to bend my own wishes +to sympathy with yours, and I dreamt even of ultimate success. I knew +you didn't care much for me, but the devotion of a slave has at times +been rewarded by the affection of her master. Fortunately, I am a slave +by choice. It only required experience to break my bonds, and you have +supplied the experience." + +For the first time in my life did it dawn on me that my self-contained +and haughty wife harbored other thoughts than a sentiment of respect for +an indulgent and easily controlled husband. It was a shock to me, a +deeper humiliation than she dreamed of. How could I expiate the past, +wipe out this record of error and folly, but not of ill-doing, and live +happily with her so long as Providence was pleased to spare us? While +these things ran through my brain she suddenly turned on me. + +"You fear exposure in the law courts! You dread your name figuring in a +society scandal! How little you know me. You naturally compare me by +your own contemptible standard. I left your house to-night determined +never to return to it should I find you here, as in all probability, I +was told, would be the case. I will go to my sister until I have +determined upon my future life. You, at least, will never, by my desire, +see or hear from me again. Thus far, I presume, I will fall in with your +views." + +She would have passed me, but I held fast to the inside of the door. If +once she got away from me I might never be able to set affairs even +tolerably right. Better, I deemed, have one trying scene in the hope +that she would calm down in the face of facts, than allow her to carry +the quarrel to her relatives and strengthen her attitude by their +natural support. + +"Alice," I said, "you shall not go." + +"How can you dare to detain me?" she shrieked, and the glint in her eyes +showed how thoroughly her passions were aroused. + +"You can separate from me if you will. I shall not venture to hinder +you. But I swear you shall not do this rash act without knowledge. I +tell you you must remain here. When you leave this house you do so in my +company." + +"And why am I to be kept a prisoner?" + +"Mrs. Hillmer will return in less than an hour. You have sought this +meeting yourself. Very well. You shall have it. When your charges have +been thoroughly thrashed out in the presence of Mrs. Hillmer and myself +I will then accompany you where you will, and leave you under the +protection of your sister, or any one else you choose, should you still +persist in leaving me." + +Of course my action was unwise to the last degree. But remember, Claude, +that during these last awful five minutes I had seen a side of my wife's +nature hidden from me six long years. And I was a man suddenly plunged +into a raging sea, drifting helplessly I knew not whither. All that +consumed me was a wild desire for such scant justice as I deserved. I +had erred, but my faults were not those my wife alleged against me. + +If she was angry before she was now absolutely uncontrollable. + +"What?" she screamed. "Remain to meet your--your mistress? Never, while +I have life!" + +She flung herself upon me so suddenly that she tore me away from the +door. She was a strong and athletic woman, and I suppose she expected +some resistance, for she used such force as to drag me forward into the +middle of the room, overturning a chair in the effort. I was so utterly +taken by surprise that I yielded to her violence more completely than +she expected. + +She staggered, let go her hold, and fell heavily backwards, tripping +over the fallen chair. I made a desperate attempt to save her, but only +caught the end of a fur necklet, and it tore like a spider's web. + +Her body crashed against a Venetian fender, and her head came with awful +force against a sort of support for the fire-irons that stood up a foot +from the ground. + +Then she rolled over, her eyes and face undergoing a ghastly change, and +instantly became, as I thought, unconscious. + +I knelt beside her, raising her head with my right hand, and brokenly +besought her to speak to me, when I would at once do anything she +demanded. But she gave no sign of animation. In a frenzy of despair, I +forced myself to examine her injuries, and my heart nearly stopped +beating when I discovered that a large piece of iron had been driven +into her brain through the back of her head. + +I knew in a moment that she was dead. Although I have not had much +experience of that terrible epoch in the human being, I have seen far +too much of death in animal life not to know that she who had been my +honored and respected wife now lay before me a mere soulless entity--a +symbol only of the splendid vital creature who, a minute earlier, was +angrily protesting against the supposed faithlessness of her mate. + +Looking back now upon the events of that fateful night, I marvel at the +appalling coolness which came to my aid as soon as I realized the extent +of the misfortune which had befallen both Alice and myself. I can fully +understand what is meant by the callousness of a certain class of +criminals, or the indifference to inevitable death betrayed by Eastern +races. No sooner was I quite assured that my wife was dead--dead beyond +hope or doubt--than I regained the use of my reasoning faculties in the +most marvellously cold-blooded degree. + +The actual difficulties of my position were enormous. I arraigned myself +before the judge and jury, and saw clearly that every circumstance +which contributed to Alice's suspicions in the first instance were now +magnified a hundred-fold by the manner and scene of her death. + +Before me, in ghostly panorama, moved the dread crowd of witnesses +against me, the degradation of my family, the bitter and vengeful +feelings of my wife's relatives, the suffering of poor, unconscious Mrs. +Hillmer, the whole avalanche of horror and misery which this unfortunate +accident had precipitated upon every person who claimed my relationship +or friendship. + +My mental attitude was quite altruistic. Could I have undone the past, I +would cheerfully have undergone a painful and protracted death +forthwith. + +But no possible atonement on my part would restore Alice to life. I knew +it was quite improbable that I should be convicted of murdering her, +strong as the circumstantial testimony against me must be. The mere +legal consequences did not, however, weigh with me for a second. From +that awful hour I felt that I was doomed personally. My only thought was +to seek oblivion, not only for myself, but for all whom Alice's death +might affect. + +Reasoning in this way, I rapidly resolved to make a bold effort to +conceal forever the time and place of the fatality. If I failed, I could +tell the truth; if I succeeded, I might, at my own expense, save a vast +amount of unnecessary sorrow. + +The desperate expedient came to me of carrying off the body to the +untenanted house at Putney where my old master had resided until his +death, utilizing the four-wheeled cab with its half-drunken driver for +the purpose. + +If I reached Putney unhindered, I could dispose of my terrible burden +easily, for the river flowed past the grounds, and every inch of the +locality was known to me. + +It occurred to me that perhaps the body might be found and recognized. +Our personal linen was never marked, by reason of the fact that our +laundry work was done upon our Yorkshire estate, but as a temporary +safeguard I resolved to take some different and less valuable outer +clothes from Mrs. Hillmer's residence. + +Her maid was of a similar build to my wife, so I hastened to the girl's +room, and laid hands upon a soiled coat and skirt which were relegated +to the recesses of the wardrobe. + +I glanced at my watch as I came along the corridor. It was 6.15 P.M. All +the incidents I have related to you had happened within a quarter of an +hour. Oh, heaven! it seemed longer than all the preceding years of my +life. + +Having resolved upon a line of conduct, I pursued it with the +_sang-froid_ and accuracy of one of the superior scoundrels delineated +by Du Boisgobey. The door of the flat was locked. If the servants, +hardly due yet, returned unexpectedly, I would send them off to Victoria +Station on some imaginary errand of their mistress's. + +I knelt beside my poor wife's body once more, and with great difficulty +took off her costume and loosely fastened on the maid's garments. + +In her purse there were some bulky documents, which I afterwards +discovered to be the reports furnished by a firm of private detectives, +detailing all my movements with reference to Raleigh Mansions with +surprising accuracy. But she had concealed her name. These men +themselves only knew me as "Colonel Montgomery." + +How Alice first came to suspect me I can only guess. Perhaps my +indifference, my absence from home at definite hours, a chance meeting +in the street unknown to me--any of these may have supplied the initial +cause, and led her to verify her doubts before taxing me with my +supposed iniquity. + +Indeed, her final act in coming alone to Mrs. Hillmer's abode, revealed +her fearless spirit and independent methods. She wanted no divorce court +revelations. She would simply have spurned me as an unworthy and +dishonorable wretch. Her small belongings I put in my pockets; the +clothes I made into a parcel and stuffed temporarily beneath my +overcoat. + +Then I unlocked the door, and went down the few steps to the main +entrance. There was no one about, the fog and sleet having cleared the +street--a quiet thoroughfare at all times. + +I took the risk of the maids coming back, and I ran to the square for my +conveyance. The driver had been improving the occasion, and was more +inebriated than before. He brought his cab to the door, and I knew, by +the appearance of things, that no one had entered during my absence. + +With some difficulty I lifted Alice's body into my arms in as natural a +position as possible, and carried her to the cab, leaving the door of +the flat ajar. Luck still favored me. The cabman supposed that she, like +himself, was intoxicated. A man came down the opposite side of the +street, but he paid not the slightest heed to me, and, indeed, we were +but dimly visible to each other. + +Exerting all my strength unobtrusively, I placed my wife on the rear +seat, and then calmly gave the driver instructions. He grumbled at the +distance, but I told him I would pay him handsomely. Searching in my +pockets and Alice's purse, I could only find twelve shillings, so, +although it was risky, to avoid a quarrel with the man, I determined to +give him a five-pound note. + +Thus far, all had gone well. + +The notion possessed me that, to all intents and purposes, I had +murdered my wife, and that I was now disposing of the visible signs of +my guilt in the most approved manner of a daring criminal. Whether I did +right or wrong I cannot, even at this late hour, decide. Should my death +induce forgetfulness, I am still inclined to think that I acted for the +best. My wife was dead; I was self-condemned. Why, then, allow others, +wholly innocent, to be dragged into the vortex? + +This was my line of thought. If you, reading this ghastly narrative, +shudder at my deeds, I pray you nevertheless to weigh in the balance the +good and ill that resulted from my actions. + +At last we reached Putney, and drew up at the end of the disused lane +which runs down by the side of the house to the river. + +Here, again, the road was deserted. I lifted my wife out, carried her to +the postern-gate, and returned to give the driver his note. The man was +so amazed at the amount that he whipped up his horse instantly, fearing +lest I should change my mind. + +I was about to force open the old and rickety door into the garden when +I remembered the drain-pipe jutting into the Thames--a place where, as a +child, I often caused much alarm by surreptitious visits for the purpose +of catching minnows. I quickly took off my coat and boots, turned up my +trousers and shirt-sleeves, and examined the pipe with my hands. + +It exactly suited my purpose. In half a minute I had firmly wedged my +wife's body beneath it. This was the most horrible portion of my task. +The chill water, the desolation of the river bank, the mud and trailing +weeds--all these things seemed so vile and loathsome when placed in +contact with the mortal remains of my ill-fated Alice. + +She had loved me. I believe I loved her, as I assuredly do now when her +presence is but a memory, yet I was condemned to commit her to the +contaminating beastliness of such surroundings. It was a small matter, +in the face of death, but it has weighed on me since more than any other +feature of that cruel night's history. + +Before leaving Putney I tied her clothes, hat, and furs to a couple of +heavy stones and threw the parcel into deep water. + +By train and cab I reached home but a few minutes late for dinner. It +was not difficult for me to act my part with the servants, nor keep up +the farce during the weary days that followed. My consciousness was so +seared by what I had gone through that the mere make-believe of my +position was a relief to me. + +That night, in the privacy of my room, I recollected the broken fender, +and feared lest the ironwork would supply a clue should the body be +discovered, a thing I deemed practically impossible. + +But, for Mrs. Hillmer's sake, I took no risk. Next morning, before I saw +you at Tattersall's, I made arrangements for the whole contents of her +drawing-room to be transferred to her brother's flat, where, to my +knowledge, the articles were needed. + +Mrs. Hillmer had gone out early, so the thing was done in her absence. +Her amazement was so great that she wired me, using as a signature the +pet name of her childhood, and this was the first message you heard the +groom refer to when he came a second time with the telegram from +Richmond. + +I wrote her a hurried note, explaining that I intended the transfer as +a sop to her offended brother, but she had telegraphed again, and I had +to go to see her, to learn that Mensmore resented the gift, and had gone +off in a huff to Monte Carlo. + +A little later, I took the supreme step of writing a farewell letter. +Since my wife's death I could not bear to meet any other woman. I +communed with my poor Alice more when dead than when alive. + +I do not think I have anything else to tell you. Step by step I watched +you and the police tearing aside my barrier of deceit. At times I +thought I would baffle you in the end. Were it not for my folly in +bribing Jane Harding I think I must have succeeded. + +That poor girl was the undoing of me in the first instance, and she now +has brought me my final sentence, for she came to-day and told me, with +tears, all that happened between the detective and herself. White, too, +put in an appearance. + +To-morrow, I suppose, he will bring a warrant, if you do not see him +first and tell him the truth. + +Do not misunderstand me. I am glad of this release. When you strove to +arouse me from my despair I did, for a little while, cherish the hope +that I might be able to devote my declining years to the work which +Alice herself took an interest in. But the web of testimony woven round +my old friend, Mensmore; the self-effacing spirit of his sister, who, to +shield me, was willing to sacrifice herself; the possibility that I +might involve these two, and perhaps others, in my own ruin--every +circumstance conspired to overwhelm me. + +I can endure no more, my dear Bruce. It is ended. The past is already a +dream to me--the future void. My poor nature was not designed to +withstand such a strain. The cord of existence has snapped, and I +cannot bring myself to believe it will be mended again. In bidding you +farewell I ask one thing. If you take a charitable view of my deeds, if +you consider that my penalty is commensurate with my faults, then you +might take my dead hand and say, "This was my friend. I pity him. May +the spirit of his wife be merciful unto him should they meet in the +regions beyond the grave." + +And so, for the last time, I sign myself + + CHARLES DYKE. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +VALEDICTORY + + +Much as Bruce would have wished to inter his dead friend's secret with +his mortal remains in the tomb, it was impossible. + +Sir Charles Dyke's sacrifice must not be made in vain, and the strange +chain of events encircled other actors in the drama too strongly to +enable the barrister to adopt the course which would otherwise have +commended itself to him. An early visit to Scotland Yard, where, in +company with Mr. White, he interviewed the Deputy Commissioner, and a +conference with the district coroner settled two important questions. +The police were satisfied as to the cause of Lady Dyke's death, and the +coroner agreed to keep the evidence as to the baronet's sudden collapse +strictly within the limits of the medical evidence. + +A wholly unnecessary public scandal was thus avoided. + +With Lady Dyke's relatives his task required considerable tact. Without +taking them fully into his confidence, he explained that Sir Charles had +all along known the exact facts bearing upon her death and burial-place, +but for family reasons he thought it best not to disclose his knowledge. + +Bruce needed their co-operation in getting the home office to give the +requisite permission for Lady Dyke's reburial. The circumstance that the +deceased baronet had left his estates to his wife's nephew, joined to +the important position Bruce occupied as one of the trustees and joint +guardian, with the boy's mother, of the young heir, smoothed over many +difficulties. + +After a harassing and anxious week Bruce had the melancholy satisfaction +of seeing the remains of the unfortunate couple laid to rest in the +stately gloom of the family vault. + +The newspapers, of course, scented a mystery in the proceedings, but +definite inquiry was barred in every direction. Even the exhumation +order gave no clue to the reasons of the authorities for granting it, +and in less than the proverbial nine days the incident was forgotten. + +Sir Charles had made it a condition precedent to the succession that his +heir should bear his name, and should live with his widowed mother on +the Yorkshire estate, or in the town house, for a certain number of +months in each year, until the boy was old enough to go to school. + +The stipulation was intended to have the effect of more rapidly burying +his own memory in oblivion. Bruce, too, was given a sum of £5,000, "to +be expended in bequests as he thought fit." + +Claude understood his motive thoroughly. Jane Harding had been loyal to +her master in her way, so he arranged that she should receive an annual +income sufficient to secure her from want. Thompson, too, was provided +for when the time came that he was too feeble for further employment at +Portman Square, and Mr. White received a handsome _douceur_ for his +services. + +Mrs. Hillmer did not even know of Sir Charles Dyke's death until weeks +had passed. Acting on Bruce's advice her brother simply told her that +everything had been settled, and that the authorities concurred with the +barrister in the opinion that Lady Dyke was accidently killed. + +When she had completely recovered from the shock of the belief that her +loyal friend had murdered his wife, Mensmore one day told her the whole +sad story. But he would allow no more weeping. + +"It is time," he said, "that the misery of this episode should cease. +When the chief actor in the tragedy gave his life to end the suffering, +we would but ill meet his wishes by allowing it to occupy our thoughts +unduly in the future." + +Mensmore's marriage with Phyllis Browne was now definitely fixed for the +following autumn, so he carried his sister off with him on a hasty trip +to Wyoming in company with Corbett--a journey required for the +protection and development of their joint interests in that State. + +Not only did their property turn out to be of great and lasting value, +but during their absence the Springbok Mine began to boom. Even the +cautious barrister one day found himself hesitating whether or not to +sell at half over par, so excellent were the reports and so extensive +the dividends from that auriferous locality. + +The two young people were married, a scion of the house had become a +lusty two-year-old, Mr. White had become Chief Inspector, and Miss Marie +le Marchant had, by strenuous effort, risen to the dignity of double +crown posters as a "dashing comedienne"--when Bruce's memories of his +lost friends were suddenly revived in an unexpected manner. + +Mr. Sydney H. Corbett came to him with measured questionings and +brooding thought stamped on his brows. + +"It's like this," he said, when they were settled down to details, "I +want to get married." + +"To whom?" inquired Claude, wondering at the savage tone in which the +announcement was made. + +"To Mrs. Hillmer." + +"Oh!" + +"That's what everybody yells the moment I mention it. She screams 'Oh!' +and runs off with tears in her eyes. Her brother says 'Oh!' and looks +uncomfortable, but refuses to discuss the proposition. Now you say 'Oh!' +and gaze at me like an owl at the bare statement. What the dickens does +it all mean, I want to know? I'm not worrying about what happened years +ago. Mrs. Hillmer is just the sort of woman I require as a wife, and +I'll marry her yet if the whole British nation says 'Oh!' loud enough to +be heard and answered by the U-nited States." + +"That's the proper sort of spirit in which to set about the business." + +"Yes, sir; but I can't get any forrarder. There's a kind of rock below +water which holds me up every time I shoot the rapids. She likes me well +enough, I know. She calls me 'Syd' as slick as butter, and I call her +'Gwen'; but there you are--if I want to go ahead a bit she pulls up and +weeps. Now, why the--" + +"Steady, Mr. Corbett. Women weep for many reasons. Do you know her +history?" + +"No, and I don't want to." + +"But perhaps that is exactly what she does want. Remember that she has +been married before, with somewhat bitter experience. She probably +believes that a husband and wife should have no secrets from each other. +Above all else, there should be no cloud between them as to bygone +events. Mrs. Hillmer is highly sensitive. If she imagined you were under +any misapprehension as to the circumstances under which Sir Charles and +Lady Dyke met their deaths--do not forget that you were personally +mixed up in the affair--she would neither entertain your proposal nor +explain her motives. She would just do as you say--run away and cry." + +"Well, now, that beats everything," said Corbett admiringly. "That never +struck me before." + +"It is the probable explanation of her attitude, nevertheless." + +"Then what am I to do?" + +"Write to her. Ask her permission to learn the facts from me. Tell her +you believe you understand the reasons for her reticence, and that your +only excuse for the request is that you want to go to her on an equal +plane of absolute confidence. It seems to me--" + +"That I'd better get quick and do it," shouted Corbett, vanishing with +the utmost celerity. + +Bruce still occupied his old chambers in Victoria Street. He did not +expect to see Corbett again for a couple of days. To the barrister's +utter amazement he returned within ten minutes. + +"Fire away!" he cried excitedly. "You struck it first time. I just rang +her up--" + +"Rang her up?" + +"Yes; she's staying at the Savoy for a few days, so I telephoned from +the Windsor. I could never fix up a letter in your words, you know. But +switch me on the end of a wire and I know where I am." + +"What on earth did you say?" + +"As soon as I got her in the box at the other end, I said, 'Is that you, +Gwen?' 'Yes,' said she. 'Well,' said I, 'I guess you know who's +talking?' 'Quite well,' said she. 'Then,' said I, 'I've just been +telling Mr. Bruce I wanted to marry you, and that you wouldn't even +discuss the proposition. He said you probably wished me to know the +whole story of Sir Charles Dyke, but felt kinder shy of telling me +yourself. He will get it off his chest if you give him permission, and +then I can come along in a hansom and fix things. What do you say?' +There was no answer, so I shouted, 'Are you there?' and she said, 'Yes,' +faint-like. 'Don't let me hurry you,' said I, 'but if you agree +straight-away I can catch Bruce at home, for I've just left him.' With +that she said, 'Very well. You can see Mr. Bruce.' And here I am." + +"Having accomplished the whole thing satisfactorily." + +"As how?" + +"Don't you see you have proposed to the lady and practically been +accepted?" + +"Jehosh! It does look something like it. Say, I'm off! This story of +yours will keep until to-morrow." + +He would have gone, but Bruce jumped after him. + +"Not so fast, Mr. Corbett. You must not sail into the Savoy flying a +false flag. Kindly oblige me with your attention for the next +half-hour." + +With that, he unlocked a safe and took from its recesses Sir Charles +Dyke's "confession." He read the whole of its opening passages, +explaining the relations between Mrs. Hillmer and her unfortunate but +abiding friend. + +The straightforward, honest sentences sounded strangely familiar at this +distance of time. Bruce was glad of the opportunity of reading them +aloud. It seemed a fitting thing that this testimony should come, as it +were, from the tomb. + +Corbett listened intently to the recital and to the barrister's summary +of the events that followed. + +"Poor chap!" he said, when the sad tale had ended. "I hope you shook +hands with him as he asked you to do?" + +"I did. Would that my grasp had the power to reassure him of my +heartfelt sympathy." + +For a little while they were silent. + +"So," said Corbett at last, "Gwen thought I would make the same mistake +as the poor lady, and suspect her wrongfully." + +"No, not that. But naturally she wished the man whom she could trust as +a husband to be wholly cognizant of events in which already he had +participated slightly." + +"She was right. I like her all the better for it. But, tell me, is there +any necessity for that wonderful document to be preserved?" + +"Not the slightest. It has served its last use." + +"Then put it in the fire." + +Bruce did not hesitate a moment to comply with the wish. The flames +devoured the record with avidity, and the two men watched the manuscript +crumbling into nothingness. Then Corbett said: + +"I must be off to the Savoy." + +"Good-bye, old chap," said Bruce. "And good luck to you, too. I +congratulate both Mrs. Hillmer and yourself." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A Mysterious Disappearance, by Gordon Holmes + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE *** + +***** This file should be named 34277-8.txt or 34277-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/2/7/34277/ + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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.org + + +Title: A Mysterious Disappearance + +Author: Gordon Holmes + +Release Date: November 11, 2010 [EBook #34277] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE *** + + + + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 323px;"> +<img src="images/icover.jpg" width="323" height="500" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<h1>A MYSTERIOUS<br /> +DISAPPEARANCE</h1> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 25px;"> +<img src="images/itopcenter.jpg" width="25" height="25" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>GORDON HOLMES</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60px;"> +<img src="images/icenter.jpg" width="60" height="100" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="smallgap"> </p> + +<p class="center">NEW YORK<br /> +EDWARD J. CLODE<br /> +156 FIFTH AVENUE<br /> +1905</p> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1905, by<br /> +<span class="smcap">Edward J. Clode</span></p> + +<p class="smallgap"> </p> + +<p class="center"><i>The Plimpton Press Norwood Mass.</i></p> + +<hr class="large" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" width="70%" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="1" summary="CONTENTS"> + +<tr><td align="right">I</td> +<td align="left">“<i>Last Seen at Victoria!</i>”</td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">II</td> +<td align="left"><i>Inspector White</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">III</td> +<td align="left"><i>The Lady’s Maid</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">IV</td> +<td align="left"><i>No. 61 Raleigh Mansions</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">V</td> +<td align="left"><i>At the Jollity Theatre</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">VI</td> +<td align="left"><i>Miss Marie le Marchant</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">VII</td> +<td align="left"><i>In the City</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">VIII</td> +<td align="left"><i>The Hotel du Cercle</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">IX</td> +<td align="left"><i>Breaking the Bank</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">X</td> +<td align="left"><i>Some Good Resolutions</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XI</td> +<td align="left"><i>Theories</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XII</td> +<td align="left"><i>Who Corbett Was</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XIII</td> +<td align="left"><i>A Question of Principle</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XIV</td> +<td align="left"><i>No. 12 Raleigh Mansions</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XV</td> +<td align="left"><i>Mrs. Hillmer Hesitates</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XVI</td> +<td align="left"><i>Foxey</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XVII</td> +<td align="left"><i>A Possible Explanation</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XVIII</td> +<td align="left"><i>What Happened on the Riviera</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_163">163</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XIX</td> +<td align="left"><i>Where Mrs. Hillmer Went</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XX</td> +<td align="left"><i>Mr. Sydney H. Corbettt</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXI</td> +<td align="left"><i>How Lady Dyke Left Raleigh Mansions</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXII</td> +<td align="left"><i>A Wilful Murder</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXIII</td> +<td align="left"><i>The Letter</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXIV</td> +<td align="left"><i>The Handwriting</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXV</td> +<td align="left"><i>Miss Phyllis Browne Intervenes</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXVI</td> +<td align="left"><i>Lady Helen Montgomery’s Son</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_246">246</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXVII</td> +<td align="left"><i>Mr. White’s Method</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_254">254</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXVIII</td> +<td align="left"><i>Sir Charles Dyke’s Journey</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_264">264</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXIX</td> +<td align="left"><i>How Lady Dyke Disappeared</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXX</td> +<td align="left"><i>Sir Charles Dyke Ends His Narrative</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXXI</td> +<td align="left"><i>Valedictory</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_297">297</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h3> + +<h2>“LAST SEEN AT VICTORIA!”</h2> + +<p>Alice, Lady Dyke, puckered her handsome forehead into a thoughtful frown +as she drew aside the window-curtains of her boudoir and tried to look +out into the opaque blackness of a November fog in London.</p> + +<p>Behind her was cheerfulness—in front uncertainty. Electric lights, a +nice fire reflected from gleaming brass, the luxury of carpets and +upholstery, formed an alluring contrast to the dull yellow glare of a +solitary lamp in the outer obscurity.</p> + +<p>But Lady Dyke was a strong-minded woman. There was no trace of doubt in +the wrinkled brows and reflective eyes. She held back the curtains with +her left hand, buttoning a glove at the wrist with the other. Fog or no +fog, she would venture forth, and she was already dressed for the +weather in tailor-made costume and winter toque.</p> + +<p>She was annoyed, but not disconcerted by the fog. Too long had she +allowed herself to take things easily. The future was as murky as the +atmosphere; the past was dramatically typified by the pleasant +surroundings on which she resolutely turned her back. Lady Dyke was +quite determined as to her actions, and a dull November <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>night was a +most unlikely agent to restrain her from following the course she had +mapped out.</p> + +<p>Moving to the light again, she took from her pocket a long, closely +written letter. Its details were familiar to her, but her face hardened +as she hastily ran through it in order to find a particular passage.</p> + +<p>At last she gained her object—to make quite sure of an address. Then +she replaced the document, stood undecided for a moment, and touched an +electric bell.</p> + +<p>“James,” she said, to the answering footman, “I am going out.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, milady.”</p> + +<p>“Sir Charles is not at home?”</p> + +<p>“No, milady.”</p> + +<p>“I am going to Richmond—to see Mrs. Talbot. I shall probably not return +in time for dinner. Tell Sir Charles not to wait for me.”</p> + +<p>“Shall I order the carriage for your ladyship?”</p> + +<p>“Will you listen to me and remember what I have said?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, milady.”</p> + +<p>James ran downstairs, opened the door, bowed as Lady Dyke passed into +Portman Square, and then confidentially informed Buttons that “the +missus” was in a “rare old wax” about something.</p> + +<p>“She nearly jumped down my bloomin’ throat when I asked her if she would +have the carriage,” he said.</p> + +<p>Her ladyship’s mood did not soften when she drifted from the fixed +tenure of Wensley House, Portman Square, into the chaos of Oxford Street +and fog at 5.30 on a November evening.</p> + +<p>Though not a true “London particular,” the fog was chilly, exasperating, +tedious. People bumped against each <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>other without apology, ’buses +crunched through the traffic with deadly precision, pair-horse vans +swept around corners with magnificent carelessness.</p> + +<p>In the result, Lady Dyke, who meant to walk, as she was somewhat in +advance of the time she had fixed on for this very important engagement, +took a hansom. In her present mood slight things annoyed her. Usually, +the London cab-horse is a thoughtful animal; he refuses to hurry; when +he falls he lies contented, secure in the knowledge that for five +blissful minutes he will be at complete rest. But this misguided +quadruped flew as though oats and meadow-grass awaited him at Victoria +Station on the Underground Railway.</p> + +<p>He raced down Park Lane, skidded past Hyde Park Corner, and grated the +off-wheel of the hansom against the kerb outside the station within +eight minutes.</p> + +<p>In other words, her ladyship, if she would obey the directions contained +in the voluminous letter, was compelled to kill time.</p> + +<p>As she stepped from the vehicle and halted beneath a lamp to take a +florin from her purse, a tall, ulster-wrapped gentleman, walking rapidly +into Victoria Street, caught a glimpse of her face and well-proportioned +form.</p> + +<p>Instantly his hat was off.</p> + +<p>“This is an unexpected pleasure, Lady Dyke. Can I be of any service?”</p> + +<p>She bit her lip, not unobserved, but the law of Society forced her +features into a bright smile.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Bruce, is it you? I am going to see my sister at Richmond. +Isn’t the weather horrid? I shall be so glad if you will put me into the +right train.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Claude Bruce, barrister and man about town, whose clean-cut features +and dark, deep-set eyes made <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>him as readily recognizable, knew that she +would have been much better pleased had he passed without greeting. Like +the footman, he wondered why she did not drive in her carriage rather +than travel by the Underground Railway on such a night. He guessed that +she was perturbed—that her voluble explanation was a disguise.</p> + +<p>He reflected that he could ill afford any delay in dressing for a +distant dinner—that good manners oft entail inconvenience—but of +course he said:</p> + +<p>“Delighted. Have you any wraps?”</p> + +<p>“No, I am just going for a chat, and shall be home early.”</p> + +<p>He bought her a first-class ticket, noting as an odd coincidence that it +bore the number of the year, 1903, descended to the barrier, found that +the next train for Richmond passed through in ten minutes, fumed +inwardly for an instant, explained his presence to the ticket-collector, +and paced the platform with his companion.</p> + +<p>Having condemned the fog, and the last play, and the latest book, they +were momentarily silent.</p> + +<p>The newspaper placards on Smith & Son’s bookstall announced that a +“Great Society Scandal” was on the tapis. “The Duke in the Box” formed a +telling line, and the eyes of both people chanced on it simultaneously.</p> + +<p>Thought the woman: “He is a man of the world, and an experienced lawyer. +Shall I tell him?”</p> + +<p>Thought the man: “She wants to take me into her confidence, and I am too +busy to be worried by some small family squabble.”</p> + +<p>Said she: “Are you much occupied at the Courts just now, Mr. Bruce?”</p> + +<p>“No,” he replied; “not exactly. My practice is more consultive than +active. Many people seek my advice <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>about matters of little interest, +never thinking that they would best serve their ends by acting +decisively and promptly themselves.”</p> + +<p>Lady Dyke set her lips. She could be both prompt and decisive. She +resolved to keep her troubles, whatever they were, locked in the secrecy +of her own heart, and when she next spoke of some trivial topic the +barrister knew that he had been spared a recital.</p> + +<p>He regretted it afterwards.</p> + +<p>At any other moment in his full and useful life he would have encouraged +her rather than the reverse. Even now, a few seconds too late, he was +sorry. He strove to bring her back to the verge of explanations, but +failed, for her ladyship was a proud, self-reliant personage—one who +would never dream of risking a rebuff.</p> + +<p>A train came, with “Richmond” staring at them from the smoke and steam +of the engine.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye!” he said.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye!”</p> + +<p>“Shall I see you again soon?”</p> + +<p>“I fear not. It is probable that I shall leave for the South of France +quite early.”</p> + +<p>And she was gone. Her companion rushed to the street, and almost ran to +his Victoria Street chambers. It was six o’clock. He had to dress and +drive all the way to Hampstead for dinner at 7.30.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>At ten minutes past nine Sir Charles Dyke entered Wensley House. A +handsome, quiet, gentlemanly man was Sir Charles. He was rich—a +Guardsman until the baronetcy devolved upon him, a popular figure in +Society, esteemed a trifle fast prior to his marriage, but sobered down +by the cares of a great estate and a vast fortune.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p><p>His wife and he were not well-matched in disposition.</p> + +<p>She was too earnest, too prim, for the easy-going baronet. He respected +her, that was all. A man of his nature found it impossible to realize +that the depths of passion are frequently coated over with ice. Their +union was irreproachable, like their marriage settlements; but there are +more features in matrimony than can be disposed of by broad seals and +legal phrases.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, they were childless, and were thus deprived of the one +great bond which unites when others may fail.</p> + +<p>Sir Charles was hurried, if not flurried. His boots were muddy and his +clothes splashed by the mire of passing vehicles.</p> + +<p>“I fear I am very late for dinner,” he said to the footman who took his +hat and overcoat. “But I shall not be five minutes in dressing. Tell her +ladyship—”</p> + +<p>“Milady is not at home, Sir Charles.”</p> + +<p>“Not at home!”</p> + +<p>“Milady went out at half-past five, saying that she was going to +Richmond to see Lady Edith Talbot, and that you were not to wait dinner +if she was late in returning.”</p> + +<p>Sir Charles was surprised. He looked steadily at the man as he said:</p> + +<p>“Are you quite sure of her ladyship’s orders?”</p> + +<p>“Quite sure, Sir Charles.”</p> + +<p>“Did she drive?”</p> + +<p>“No, Sir Charles. She would not order the carriage when I suggested it.”</p> + +<p>The baronet, somewhat perplexed, hesitated a moment. Then he appeared to +dismiss the matter as hardly worth discussion, saying, as he went up +stairs:</p> + +<p>“Dinner almost immediately, James.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p><p>During the solitary meal he was preoccupied, but ate more than usual, in +the butler’s judgment. Finding his own company distasteful, he discussed +the November Handicap with the butler, and ultimately sent for an +evening paper.</p> + +<p>Opening it, the first words that caught his eye were, “Murder in the +West End.” He read the paragraph, the record of some tragic orgy, and +turned to the butler.</p> + +<p>“A lot of these beastly crimes have occurred recently, Thompson.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Sir Charles. There’s bin three since the beginning of the month.”</p> + +<p>After a pause. “Did you hear that her ladyship had gone to Richmond?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Sir Charles.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know how she went?”</p> + +<p>“No, Sir Charles.”</p> + +<p>“I wanted to see her to-night, <i>very</i> particularly. Order the brougham +in ten minutes. I am going to the Travellers’ Club. I shall be home +soon—say eleven o’clock—when her ladyship arrives.”</p> + +<p>The baronet was driven to and from the club by his own coachman, but on +returning to Wensley House was told that his wife was still absent.</p> + +<p>“No telegram or message?”</p> + +<p>“No, Sir Charles.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose she will stay with her sister all night, and I shall have a +note in the morning to say so. Just like a woman. Now if I did that, +James, there would be no end of a row. Anxiety, and that sort of thing. +Call me at 8.30.”</p> + +<p>An hour later Sir Charles Dyke left the library and went to bed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p><p>At breakfast next morning the master of the house rapidly scanned the +letters near his plate for the expected missive from his wife. There was +none.</p> + +<p>A maid was waiting. He sent her to call the butler.</p> + +<p>“Look here, Thompson,” he cried, “her ladyship has not written. Don’t +you think I had better wire? It’s curious, to say the least, going off +to Richmond in this fashion, in a beastly fog, too.”</p> + +<p>Thompson was puzzled. He had examined the letters an hour earlier. But +he agreed that a telegram was the thing.</p> + +<p>Sir Charles wrote: “Expected to hear from you. Will you be home to +lunch? Want to see you about some hunters”; and addressed it to his wife +at her sister’s residence.</p> + +<p>“There,” he said, turning to his coffee and sole. “That will fetch her. +We are off to Leicestershire next week, Thompson. By the way, I am going +to a sale at Tattersall’s. Send a groom there with her ladyship’s answer +when it comes.”</p> + +<p>He had not been long at the sale yard when a servant arrived with a +telegram.</p> + +<p>“Ah, the post-office people are quick this morning,” he said, smiling. +He opened the envelope and read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Want to see you at once.—<span class="smcap">Dick.</span>”</p></div> + +<p>He was so surprised by the unexpected nature of the message that he read +the words aloud mechanically. But he soon understood, and smiled again.</p> + +<p>“Go back quickly,” he said to the man, “and tell Thompson to send along +the next telegram.”</p> + +<p>A consignment of Waterford hunters was being sold at the time, and the +baronet was checking the animals’ <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>descriptions on the catalogue, when +he was cheerily addressed:</p> + +<p>“Hallo, Dyke, preparing for the shires, eh?”</p> + +<p>Wheeling round, the baronet shook hands with Claude Bruce.</p> + +<p>“Yes—that is, I am looking out for a couple of nice-mannered ones for +my wife. I have six eating their heads off at Market Harborough now.”</p> + +<p>Bruce hesitated. “Will Lady Dyke hunt this season?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Well, hardly that. But she likes to dodge about the lanes with the +parson and the doctor.”</p> + +<p>“I only inquired because she told me last night that she would probably +winter in the South of France.”</p> + +<p>“Told you—last night—South of France!” Sir Charles Dyke positively +gasped in his amazement.</p> + +<p>“Why, yes. I met her at Victoria. She was going to Richmond to see her +sister, she said.”</p> + +<p>“I am jolly glad to hear it.”</p> + +<p>“Glad! Why?”</p> + +<p>“Because I have not seen her myself since yesterday morning. She went +off mysteriously, late in the afternoon, leaving a message with the +servants. Naturally I am glad to hear from you that she got into the +train all right.”</p> + +<p>“I put her in the carriage myself. Have you not heard from her?”</p> + +<p>“No. I wired this morning, and expect an answer at any moment. But what +is this about the South of France? We go to Leicestershire next week.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t say, of course. Your wife seemed to be a little upset about +something. She only mentioned her intention casually—in fact, when I +asked if we would meet soon.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p><p>The other laughed, a little oddly in the opinion of his astute observer, +and dismissed the matter by the remark that the expected message from +his wife would soon clear the slight mystery attending her movements +during the past eighteen hours.</p> + +<p>The two men set themselves to the congenial task of criticizing the +horses trotting up and down the straw-covered track, and Sir Charles had +purchased a nice half-bred animal for forty guineas when his groom again +saluted him.</p> + +<p>“Please, sir,” said the man, “here’s another telegram, and Thompson told +me to ask if it was the right one.”</p> + +<p>Sir Charles frowned at the interruption—a second horse of a suitable +character was even then under the hammer—but he tore open the envelope. +At once his agitation became so marked that Bruce cried:</p> + +<p>“Good heavens, Dyke, what is it? No bad news, I hope?”</p> + +<p>The other, by a strong effort, regained his self-control.</p> + +<p>“No, no,” he stammered; “it is all right, all right. She has gone +somewhere else. See. This is from her sister, Mrs. Talbot. Still, I wish +Alice would consider my natural anxiety a little.”</p> + +<p>Bruce read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“I opened your message. Alice not here. I have not seen her for +over a week. What do you mean by wire? Am coming to town at +once.—<span class="smcap">Edith.</span>”</p></div> + +<p>The baronet’s pale face and strained voice betrayed the significance of +the thought underlying the simple question.</p> + +<p>“What do you make of it, Claude?”</p> + +<p>Bruce, too, was very grave. “The thing looks queer,” he said; “though +the explanation may be trifling. Come, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>I will help you. Let us reach +your house. It is the natural centre for inquiries.”</p> + +<p>They hailed a hansom and whirled off to Portman Square. They did not say +much. Each man felt that the affair might not end so happily and +satisfactorily as he hoped.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h3> + +<h2>INSPECTOR WHITE</h2> + +<p>Lady Dyke had disappeared.</p> + +<p>Whether dead or alive, and if alive, whether detained by force or absent +of her own unfettered volition, this handsome and well-known leader of +Society had vanished utterly from the moment when Claude Bruce placed +her in a first-class carriage of a Metropolitan Richmond train at +Victoria Station.</p> + +<p>At first her husband and relatives hoped against hope that some +extraordinary tissue of events had contributed to the building up of a +mystery which would prove to be no mystery.</p> + +<p>Yet the days fled, and there was no trace of her whereabouts.</p> + +<p>At the outset, the inquiry was confined to the circle of friends and +relatives. Telegrams and letters in every possible direction suggested +by this comparatively restricted field showed conclusively that not only +had Lady Dyke not been seen, but no one had the slightest clue to the +motives which might induce her to leave her home purposely.</p> + +<p>So far as her distracted husband could ascertain, she did not owe a +penny in the world. She was a rich woman in her own right, and her +banking account was in perfect order.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p><p>She was a woman of the domestic temperament, always in close touch with +her family, and those who knew her best scouted the notion of any petty +intrigue which would move her, by fear or passion, to abandon all she +held dear.</p> + +<p>The stricken baronet confided the search only to his friend Bruce. He +brokenly admitted that he had not sufficiently appreciated his wife +while she was with him.</p> + +<p>“She was of a superior order to me, Claude,” he said. “I am hardly a +home bird. Her ideals were lofty and humanitarian. Too often I was out +of sympathy with her, and laughed at her notions. But, believe me, we +never had the shadow of a serious dispute. Perhaps I went my own way a +little selfishly, but at the time, I thought that she, on her part, was +somewhat straight-laced. I appreciate her merits when it is too late.”</p> + +<p>“But you must not assume even yet that she is dead.” The barrister was +certain that some day the mystery would be elucidated.</p> + +<p>“She is. I feel that. I shall never see her on earth again.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nonsense, Dyke. Far more remarkable occurrences have been +satisfactorily cleared up.”</p> + +<p>“It is very good of you, old chap, to take this cheering view. Only, you +see, I know my wife’s character so well. She would die a hundred times +if it were possible rather than cause the misery to her people and +myself which, if living, she knows must ensue from this terrible +uncertainty as to her fate.”</p> + +<p>“Scotland Yard is still sanguine.” This good-natured friend was +evidently making a conversation.</p> + +<p>“Oh, naturally. But something tells me that my wife is dead, whether by +accident or design it is impossible to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>say. The police will cling to +the belief that she is in hiding in order to conceal their own inability +to find her.”</p> + +<p>“A highly probable theory. Are your servants to be trusted?”</p> + +<p>“Y—es. They have all been with us some years. Why do you ask?”</p> + +<p>“Because I am anxious that nothing of this should get into the papers. I +have caused paragraphs to be inserted in the fashionable intelligence +columns that Lady Dyke has gone to visit some friends in the Midlands. +For her own sake, if she be living, it is best to choke scandal at its +source.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Bruce, I leave everything to you. Make such arrangements as you +think fit.”</p> + +<p>The barrister’s mobile face softened with pity as he looked at his +afflicted friend.</p> + +<p>In four days Sir Charles Dyke had aged many years in appearance. No one +who was acquainted with him in the past would have imagined that the +loss of his wife could so affect him.</p> + +<p>“I have done all that was possible, yet it is very little,” said Bruce, +after a pause. “You are aware that I am supposed to be an adept at +solving curious or criminal investigations of an unusual class. But in +this case, partly, I suspect, because I myself am the last person who, +to our common knowledge, saw Lady Dyke alive on Tuesday night, I am +faced by a dead wall of impenetrable fact, through which my intellect +cannot pierce. Yet I am sure that some day this wretched business will +be intelligible. I will find her if living; I will find her murderer if +she be dead.”</p> + +<p>Not often did Claude Bruce allow his words to so betray his thoughts.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p><p>Both men were absorbed by the thrilling sensations of the moment, and +they were positively startled when a servant suddenly announced:</p> + +<p>“Inspector White, of Scotland Yard.”</p> + +<p>A short, thick-set man entered. He was absolutely round in every part. +His sturdy, rotund frame was supported on stout, well-moulded legs. His +bullet head, with close-cropped hair, gave a suggestion of strength to +his rounded face, and a pair of small bright eyes looked suspiciously on +the world from beneath well-arched eyebrows.</p> + +<p>Two personalities more dissimilar than those of Claude Bruce and +Inspector White could hardly be brought together in the same room. +People who are fond of tracing resemblances to animals in human beings +would liken the one to a grey-hound, the other to a bull-dog.</p> + +<p>Yet they were both masters in the art of detecting crime—the barrister +subtle, analytic, introspective; the policeman direct, pertinacious, +self-confident. Bruce lost all interest in a case when the hidden trail +was laid bare. Mr. White regarded investigation as so many hours on duty +until his man was transported or hanged.</p> + +<p>The detective was well acquainted with his unprofessional colleague, and +had already met Sir Charles in the early stages of his present quest.</p> + +<p>“I have an important clue,” he said, smiling with assurance.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” The baronet was for the moment aroused from his despondent +lethargy.</p> + +<p>“Her ladyship did not go to Richmond on Tuesday night.”</p> + +<p>Inspector White did not wait for Bruce to speak, but <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>the barrister +nodded with the air of one who knew already that Lady Dyke had not gone +to Richmond.</p> + +<p>Mr. White continued. “Thanks to Mr. Bruce’s remembrance of the number of +the ticket, we traced it at once in the clearing office. It was given up +at Sloan Square immediately after the Richmond train passed through.”</p> + +<p>Bruce nodded again. He was obstinately silent, so the detective +questioned him directly.</p> + +<p>“By this means the inquiry is narrowed to a locality. Eh, Mr. Bruce?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the barrister, turning to poke the fire.</p> + +<p>Mr. White was sure that his acuteness was displeasing to his clever +rival. He smiled complacently, and went on:</p> + +<p>“The ticket-collector remembers her quite well, as the giving up of a +Richmond ticket was unusual at this station. She passed straight out +into the square, and from that point we lost sight of her.”</p> + +<p>“You do, Mr. White?” said Bruce.</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, it is a great thing to have localized her movements at that +hour, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is. To save time I may tell you that Lady Dyke returned to the +station, entered the refreshment room, ordered a glass of wine, which +she hardly touched, sat down, and waited some fifteen minutes. Then she +quitted the room, crossed the square, asked a news-vendor where Raleigh +Mansions were, and gave him sixpence for the information.”</p> + +<p>His hearers were astounded.</p> + +<p>“Heavens, Claude, how did you learn all this?” cried the baronet.</p> + +<p>“Thus far, it was simplicity itself. On Wednesday <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>evening when no news +could be obtained from your relatives, I started from Victoria, +intending to call at every station until I found the place where she +left the train. The railway clearing officer was too slow, Mr. White. +Naturally, the hours being identical in the same week, the first +ticket-collector I spoke to gave me the desired clue. The rest was a +mere matter of steady inquiry.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are the man whom the police are now searching for?” blurted +out the detective.</p> + +<p>“From the railway official’s description? Possibly. Pray, Mr. White, let +me see the details of my appearance as circulated through the force. It +would be interesting.”</p> + +<p>The inspector was saved from further indiscretions by Sir Charles Dyke’s +plaintive question:</p> + +<p>“Why did you not tell me these things sooner, Claude?”</p> + +<p>“What good was there in torturing you? All that I have ascertained is +the A B C of our search. We are at a loss for the motive of your wife’s +disappearance. Victoria, Sloane Square, or Richmond—does it matter +which? My belief is that she intended to go to Richmond that night. Why, +otherwise, should she make to the footman and myself the same unvarying +statement? Perhaps she did go there?”</p> + +<p>“But these houses, Raleigh Mansions. What of them?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, there we may be forwarded a stage. But there are six main entrances +and no hall porters. There are twelve flats at each number, seventy-two +in all, and all occupied. That means seventy-two separate inquiries into +the history and attributes of a vastly larger number of persons, in +order to find some possible connection with Lady Dyke and her purposely +concealed visit. She may have remained in one of those flats five +minutes. She <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>may be in one of them yet. Anyhow, I have taken the +necessary steps to obtain the fullest knowledge of the inhabitants of +Raleigh Mansions.”</p> + +<p>“Scotland Yard appears to be an unnecessary institution, Mr. Bruce,” +snapped the detective.</p> + +<p>“By no means. It is most useful to me once I have discovered a criminal. +And it amuses me.”</p> + +<p>“Listen, Claude, and you, Mr. White,” pleaded the baronet. “I implore +you to keep me informed in future of developments in your search. The +knowledge that progress is being made will sustain me. Promise, I ask +you.”</p> + +<p>“I promise readily enough,” answered Bruce. “I only stipulate that you +prepare yourself for many disappointments. Even a highly skilled +detective like Inspector White will admit that the failures are more +frequent than the successes.”</p> + +<p>“True enough, sir. But I must be going, gentlemen.” Mr. White was +determined to work the new vein of Raleigh Mansions thoroughly before +even his superiors were aware of its significance in the hunt for her +lost ladyship.</p> + +<p>When the detective went out there was silence for some time. Dyke was +the first to speak.</p> + +<p>“Have you formed any sort of theory, even a wildly speculative one?” he +asked.</p> + +<p>“No; none whatever. The utter absence of motive is the most puzzling +element of the whole situation.”</p> + +<p>“Whom can my wife have known at Raleigh Mansions? What sort of places +are they?”</p> + +<p>“Quite fashionable, but not too expensive. The absence of elevators and +doorkeepers cheapens them. I am sorry now that I mentioned them to +White.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p><p>“He will disturb every one of the residents by injudicious inquiries. +Each housemaid who opens a door will be to him a suspicious individual, +each butcher’s boy an accomplice, each tenant a principal in the +abduction of your wife. If I have a theory of any sort, it is that the +first reliable news will come from Richmond. There cannot be the +slightest doubt that she was going there on Tuesday night.”</p> + +<p>“It will be very odd if you should prove to be right,” said Sir Charles.</p> + +<p>Again they were interrupted by the footman, this time the bearer of a +telegram, which he handed to his master.</p> + +<p>The latter opened it and read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“What is the matter? Are you ill? I certainly am angry.—<span class="smcap">Dick.</span>”</p></div> + +<p>He frowned with real annoyance, crumpling up the message and throwing it +in the fire.</p> + +<p>“People bothering one at such a time,” he growled.</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards Bruce left him.</p> + +<p>True to the barrister’s prophecy, Inspector White made life miserable to +the denizens of Raleigh Mansions. He visited them at all hours, and, in +some instances, several times. Although, in accordance with his +instructions, he never mentioned Lady Dyke’s name, he so pestered the +occupants with questions concerning a lady of her general appearance +that half-a-dozen residents wrote complaining letters to the company +which owned the mansions, and the secretary lodged a protest at Scotland +Yard.</p> + +<p>Respectable citizens object to detectives prowling about, particularly +when they insinuate questions concerning indefinite ladies in +tailor-made dresses and fur toques.</p> + +<p>At the end of a week Mr. White was nonplussed, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>even Claude Bruce +confessed that his more carefully conducted inquiries had yielded no +result.</p> + +<p>Towards the end of the month a sensational turn was given to events. The +body of a woman, terribly disfigured from long immersion in the water +and other causes, was found in the Thames at Putney.</p> + +<p>It had been discovered under peculiar circumstances. A drain pipe +emptying into the river beneath the surface was moved by reason of some +sanitary alterations, and the workmen intrusted with the task were +horrified at finding a corpse tightly wedged beneath it.</p> + +<p>Official examination revealed that although the body had been in the +water fully three weeks, the cause of death was not drowning. The woman +had been murdered beyond a shadow of a doubt. A sharp iron spike was +driven into her brain with such force that a portion of it had broken +off, and remained imbedded in the skull.</p> + +<p>If this were not sufficient, there were other convincing proofs of foul +play.</p> + +<p>Although her skirt and coat were of poor quality, her linen was of a +class that could only be worn by some one who paid as much for a single +under-garment as most women do for a good costume; but there were no +laundry marks, such as usual, upon it.</p> + +<p>On the feet were a pair of strong walking boots, bearing the stamped +address of a fashionable boot-maker in the West End. Among a list of +customers to whom the tradesman supplied footgear of this size and +character appeared the name of Lady Dyke.</p> + +<p>Not very convincing testimony, but sufficient to bring Sir Charles to +the Putney mortuary in the endeavor to identify the remains as those of +his missing wife.</p> + +<p>In this he utterly failed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p><p>Not only was this poor misshapen lump of distorted humanity wholly +unlike Lady Alice, but the color of her hair was different.</p> + +<p>Her ladyship’s maid called to identify the linen—even the police +admitted the outer clothes were not Lady Dyke’s—was so upset at the +repulsive nature of her task that she went into hysterics, protesting +loudly that it could not be her mistress she was looking at.</p> + +<p>Bruce differed from both of them. He quietly urged Sir Charles to +consider the fact that a great many ladies give a helping hand to Nature +in the matter of hair tints. The chemical action of water would—</p> + +<p>The baronet nearly lost his temper.</p> + +<p>“Really, Bruce, you carry your theories too far,” he cried. “My wife had +none of these vanities. I am sure this is not she. The mere thought that +such a thing could be possible makes me ill. Let us get away, quick.”</p> + +<p>So a coroner’s jury found an open verdict, and the poor unknown was +buried in a pauper’s grave.</p> + +<p>The newspapers dismissed the incident with a couple of paragraphs, +though the iron spike planted in the skull afforded good material for a +telling headline, and within a couple of days the affair was forgotten.</p> + +<p>But Claude Bruce, barrister and amateur detective, was quite sure in his +own mind that the nameless woman was Alice, Lady Dyke.</p> + +<p>He was so certain—though identification of the body was +impossible—that he bitterly resented the scant attention given the +matter by the authorities, and he swore solemnly that he would not rest +until he had discovered her destroyer and brought the wretch to the bar +of justice.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h3> + +<h2>THE LADY’S MAID</h2> + +<p>The first difficulty experienced by the barrister in his self-imposed +task was the element of mystery purposely contributed by Lady Dyke +herself. To a man of his quick perception, sharpened and clarified by +his legal training, it was easy to arrive at the positive facts +underlying the trivial incidents of his meeting with the missing lady at +Victoria Station.</p> + +<p>Briefly stated, his summary was this: Lady Dyke intended to go to +Richmond at a later hour than that at which his unexpected presence had +caused her to set out. She had resolved upon a secret visit to some one +who lived in Raleigh Mansions, Sloane Square—some person whom she knew +so slightly as to be unacquainted with the exact address, and, as the +result of this visit, she desired subsequently to see her sister at +Richmond.</p> + +<p>Sir Charles Dyke was apparently in no way concerned with her movements, +nor had she thought fit to consult him, beyond the mere politeness of +announcing her probable absence from home at the dinner hour.</p> + +<p>To one of Bruce’s analytical powers the problem would be more simple +were it, in a popular sense, more complex. In these days, it is a +strange thing for a woman of assured position in society to be suddenly +spirited out of the world without leaving trace or sign. He approached +his inquiry <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>with less certainty, owing to Lady Dyke’s own negative +admissions, than if she had been swallowed up by an earthquake, and he +were asked to determine her fate by inference and deduction.</p> + +<p>It must be remembered that he was sure she was dead—murdered, and that +her body had been lodged by human agents beneath an old drain-pipe at +Putney.</p> + +<p>What possible motive could any one have in so foully killing a +beautiful, high-minded, and charming woman, whose whole life was known +to her associates, whom the breath of scandal had never touched?</p> + +<p>The key of the mystery might be found at Raleigh Mansions, but Bruce +decided that this branch of his quest could wait until other transient +features were cleared up.</p> + +<p>He practically opened the campaign of investigation at Putney. Mild +weather had permitted the workmen to conclude their operations the day +before the barrister reached the spot where the body had been +found—that is to say, some forty-eight hours after he had resolved +neither to pause nor deviate in his search until the truth was laid +bare.</p> + +<p>A large house, untenanted, occupied the bank, a house with solid front +facing the road, and a lawn running from the drawing-room windows to the +river. Down the right side of the grounds the boundary was sharply +marked by a narrow lane, probably a disused ferry road, and access to +this thoroughfare was obtained from the lawn by a garden gate.</p> + +<p>A newly marked seam in the roadway showed the line of the drainage work, +and Bruce did not glance at the point where the pipe entered the Thames, +as the structural features here were recent.</p> + +<p>He went to the office of the contractor who had carried <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>out the +alterations. An elderly foreman readily answered his questions.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. I was in charge of the men who were on the job. It was an +easy business. Just an outlet for rain from the road. An old-fashioned +affair; been there thirty or forty years, I should think; all the pipes +were crumbling away.”</p> + +<p>“Why were the repairs effected at this moment?”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, the house was empty quite a while. You see it used to be a +school, a place where young gents were prepared for the army. It was +closed about a year ago, and it isn’t everybody as wants so many +bedrooms. I do hear as how the new tenant has sixteen children.”</p> + +<p>“The incoming people have not yet arrived?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Can you tell me the name of the schoolmaster?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes. When I was younger I have done a lot of carpenter’s work for +him. He was the Reverend Septimus Childe.”</p> + +<p>Bruce made a note of the name, and next sought the local +police-inspector.</p> + +<p>“No, nothing fresh,” said the latter, in reply to a query concerning the +woman “found drowned.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose these things are soon lost sight of?” said Bruce casually.</p> + +<p>“Sometimes they are, and sometimes they aren’t. It’s wonderful +occasionally how a matter gets cleared up after years. Of course we keep +all the records of a case, so that the affair can be looked into if +anything turns up.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, that brings me to the most important object of my visit. A small +piece of iron was found imbedded in the woman’s skull.”</p> + +<p>The inspector smiled as he admitted the fact.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p><p>“May I see it? I want either the loan of it for a brief period, or an +exact model.”</p> + +<p>Again the policeman grinned.</p> + +<p>“I don’t mind telling you that you are too late, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Too late! How too late?”</p> + +<p>“It’s been gone to Scotland Yard for the best part of a week.”</p> + +<p>So others besides the barrister thought that the Putney incident +required more attention than had been bestowed upon it.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>Bruce concluded his round by a visit to the surgeon who gave evidence at +the inquest.</p> + +<p>The doctor had no manner of doubt that the woman had been murdered +before being placed in the water, the state of the lungs being proof +positive on that point.</p> + +<p>“It was equally indisputable that she was put to death by malice +aforethought?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes. A small iron spike was absolutely wedged into the brain +through the hardest part of the skull.”</p> + +<p>“What was the nature of the injuries that caused death?”</p> + +<p>“This piece of iron penetrated the occipital bone at the lowest part, +and injured the cerebellum, damaging all the great nerve centres at the +base of the brain.”</p> + +<p>“Would death ensue instantly?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Such a blow would have the effect of a high voltage electric +current. Complete paralysis of the nerve centres means death.”</p> + +<p>“Then I take it that great force must have been used?”</p> + +<p>“Not so much, perhaps, as the nature of the wound seems to imply; but +considerable—sufficient, at any rate, to break the piece of iron.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p><p>“It was broken, you say? Was it cast-iron?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, of good quality. Off some ornament or design, I should imagine. +But it snapped off inside the head at the moment of the occurrence.”</p> + +<p>“Curious, is it not, for a person to be killed in such a manner by such +an instrument?”</p> + +<p>“I have never before met such a case. Were it not for the way in which +the body was jammed beneath a hidden drain-pipe, and the effective means +taken to destroy the identity, I should have inclined to the belief that +some strange accident had happened. At any rate, the murderer must have +committed the crime on the spur of the moment, and seized upon the first +weapon to hand.”</p> + +<p>“You say she was forcibly placed where found?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; the workmen’s description left no other idea.”</p> + +<p>“Could not the tide have done this?”</p> + +<p>“Hardly. One cannot be quite emphatic, as such odd things do happen. But +it seems to be almost impossible for the tide at Putney to pack a body +beneath a jutting drain-pipe in such a manner that the waist, or +narrowest part, should be beneath the pipe and the body remain securely +held.”</p> + +<p>“Yet it is not so marvellous as the coincidence that this particular +drain should need repairs at the precise period when this tragedy +happened.”</p> + +<p>“Quite so. It is exceedingly strange. Are you interested in the case? +Have you reason to believe that this poor woman—?”</p> + +<p>“I hardly know,” broke in the barrister. “I have no data to go upon, but +I feel convinced that I shall ultimately establish her identity. You, +doctor, can help me much by telling me your surmises in addition to the +known facts.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p><p>The medico looked thoughtfully through the window before he exclaimed: +“I am certain that the woman found in the Thames came from the upper +walks of life. Notwithstanding the disfiguring effects of the water and +rough usage, any medical man can rapidly appreciate the caste of his +subject. She was, I should say, a woman of wealth and refinement, one +who led an orderly, well-regulated life, whose surroundings were normal +and healthy.”</p> + +<p>Bruce thanked his informant and hurried back to London. A telegram to +Inspector White preceded him. He had not long reached his +Victoria-street chambers when the detective was announced. He soon made +known his wishes. “I want you to give me that small piece of iron found +in the head of the woman at Putney,” he said. “If necessary, I will +return it in twenty-four hours.”</p> + +<p>Mr. White’s face showed some little sign of annoyance. “It is against +the rules,” he began; but Bruce curtly interrupted him.</p> + +<p>“Very well, I will make direct application to the Commissioner.”</p> + +<p>“I was going to say, Mr. Bruce, that although not strictly in accordance +with orders, I will make an exception in your case.” And the detective +slowly produced the <i>piece de conviction</i> from a large pocket-book.</p> + +<p>In sober fact, the police officer was somewhat jealous of the clever +lawyer, who saw so quickly through complexities that puzzled his slower +brain. He was in nowise anxious to help the barrister in his inquiries, +though keenly wishful to benefit by his discoveries, and follow out his +theories when they were defined with sufficient clearness.</p> + +<p>Bruce did not at first take the proffered article.</p> + +<p>“Let me understand, Mr. White,” he said. “Do you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>object to my presence +in this inquiry? Are you going to hinder me or help me? It will save +much future misunderstanding if we have this point settled now.”</p> + +<p>The detective flushed at this direct inquiry. “I will be candid with +you, Mr. Bruce. It is true I have been vexed at times when you have +overreached me; but I regret it immediately. It is foolish of me to try +and solve problems by your methods. Kindly forget my momentary +disinclination to hand over the only genuine link in the case.”</p> + +<p>“In what case?”</p> + +<p>“In the case of Lady Dyke’s disappearance.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! Then you think it is in some way connected with the woman found at +Putney?”</p> + +<p>“I am sure of it. The woman at Putney, whether Lady Dyke herself or not +I cannot tell, wore some of her ladyship’s clothes. When we have +ascertained the means and the manner of the death of the woman buried at +Putney we shall not be far from learning what has become of Lady Dyke.”</p> + +<p>“How have you identified the clothes?”</p> + +<p>“I managed to gain the confidence of the lady’s maid, who gave evidence +at the inquest. She, of course, is quite positive that the body was not +that of her mistress, but when I had examined some of Lady Dyke’s linen +I no longer doubted the fact.”</p> + +<p>“If you knew all this, how comes it that more did not transpire at the +coroner’s inquiry?”</p> + +<p>“In such affairs an inquest is rather a hindrance to the police. It is +better to lull the guilty person or persons into the belief that the +crime has passed into oblivion. They know as well as we do that Lady +Dyke is buried at Putney. We have failed to establish her identity by +the evidence of the husband and servants. The linen and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>clothes, our +sole effective testimony, remain in our possession; so, taking +everything into consideration, I prefer that matters should remain as +they are for the present.”</p> + +<p>“Really, Mr. White, I congratulate you. You will perhaps pardon me for +saying that some of your colleagues do not usually take so sensible a +view.”</p> + +<p>The policeman smiled at the compliment. “I am learning your method, Mr. +Bruce,” he said.</p> + +<p>As he spoke, Smith entered with a note endorsed “Urgent.”</p> + +<p>It was in the handwriting of Sir Charles Dyke, and even the +imperturbable barrister could not resist an exclamation of amazement +when he read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“<span class="smcap">My Dear Bruce</span>,—My wife’s maid has vanished. She has not been +near the house for three days. The thing came to my ears owing +to gossip amongst the servants. There is something maddening +about these occurrences. I really cannot stand any more. Do +come to see me, there’s a good fellow.”</p></div> + +<p>“Well, I’m jiggered!” said the detective. “The blessed girl must have +been spirited away a few hours after I saw her. Maybe, Mr. Bruce, we are +all wrong. Has she gone to join her mistress?”</p> + +<p>“Possibly—in the next world.”</p> + +<p>Nothing would shake the barrister’s belief that Alice, Lady Dyke, was +dead.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h3> + +<h2>NO. 61 RALEIGH MANSIONS</h2> + +<p>Really, the maid deserved to have her ears pulled.</p> + +<p>People in her walk in life should not ape their betters. Lady Dyke, +owing to her position, was entitled to some degree of oddity or mystery +in her behavior. But for a lady’s maid to so upset the entire household +at Wensley House, Portman Square, was intolerable.</p> + +<p>Sir Charles became, if possible, more miserable; the butler fumed; the +housekeeper said that the girl was always a forward minx, and the +footman winked at Buttons, as much as to say that he knew a good deal if +he liked to talk.</p> + +<p>The police were as greatly baffled by this latter incident as by its +predecessor. The movements of the maid were quite unknown. No one could +tell definitely when she left the house. Her fellow-servants described +the dress she probably wore, as all her other belongings were in her +bedroom; but beyond the fact that her name was Jane Harding, and that +she had not returned to her home in Lincolnshire, the police could find +no further clue.</p> + +<p>So, in brief, Jane Harding quickly joined Lady Dyke in the limbo of +forgetfulness.</p> + +<p>Bruce, however, forgot nothing. Indeed, he rejoiced at this new +development.</p> + +<p>“The greater the apparent mystery,” he communed, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>“the less it is in +reality. We now have two tracks to follow. They are both hidden, it is +true, but when we find one, it will probably intersect the other.”</p> + +<p>The new year was a few days old when Bruce made his first step through +the bewildering maze which seemed to bar progress on every side. He +received a report from the man, a pensioned police-officer, who had +conducted a painstaking search into the history and occupation of every +inhabitant of Raleigh Mansions.</p> + +<p>Two items the barrister fastened on to at once.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“At No. 12, top floor right, entrance by first door on Sloane Square +side, is a small flat occupied by a man named Sydney H. Corbett. He +passes as an American, but is probably an Englishman who has resided in +the United States. He does not mix with other Americans in London, and +is of irregular habits. He frequents race meetings and sporting clubs, +is reported to belong to a Piccadilly club where high play is the rule, +and has no definite occupation. He occasionally visits a lady who lives +at No. 61, same mansions, ground floor, and sixth door. They have been +heard to quarrel seriously, and the dispute appears always to have +concerned money. Corbett went to Monte Carlo early in December. His +address there is ‘Hotel du Cercle,’ and the local post-office has a +supply of stamped and addressed envelopes in which to forward his +correspondence.</p> + +<p>“At No. 61, as already described, resides Mrs. Gwendoline Hillmer. She +lives in good style, rents a brougham and a victoria, and is either a +wealthy widow or maintained by some one of means. She dresses well, and +goes out a good deal to theatres, but otherwise leads a rather lonely +life. Her most frequent visitor is, or was, a gentleman who looked like +an officer in the Guards, and, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>much less often, the aforesaid Sydney H. +Corbett. Her servants, except the maid, live out. The maid, who is a +sort of companion, is talkative, but does not know much, or, if she +does, will not speak.”</p></div> + +<p>Bruce weighed these statements very carefully. They did not contain any +positive facts that promised well for the elucidation of Lady Dyke’s +visit to the mansions on that fateful November evening, but the absolute +colorlessness of the reports concerning the other occupants rendered +them quite impossible of individual distinction.</p> + +<p>After an hour of puzzled thought the barrister finally decided upon a +course of action. He would see Mrs. Gwendoline Hillmer, and trust to +luck in the way of discoveries.</p> + +<p>A quiet smile lit up his handsome, regular features as he proceeded to +array himself in the most fashionable clothes he possessed, paying the +utmost attention to every detail in a manner that amazed his valet.</p> + +<p>When at last that worthy was despatched to the nearest florist’s for a +<i>boutonniere</i>, he communicated his bewilderment to the hall-porter.</p> + +<p>“My guv’nor’s going out on the mash,” he said confidentially. “I thought +he would never look at a woman; but, bless you, Jim, we’re all alike. +When the day comes we all rush after a petticoat.”</p> + +<p>It was nearly six o’clock when Bruce walked down Victoria Street. For +some reason, he did not call a hansom, and it was almost with a start +that he found himself purchasing a ticket to Sloane Square at the +Underground Railway office. At this precise hour and place he had last +seen Lady Alice on earth. The memory nerved him to his purpose.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later he pressed the electric bell of No. 61 <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>Raleigh +Mansions. As he listened to the slight jar of the indicator within, he +smiled at the apparent fatuity of his mission.</p> + +<p>He had one card, perhaps a weak one, to play, it was true, but he hoped +that circumstances might prevent this from being tabled too early in the +game.</p> + +<p>The door opened, and a youthful housemaid stood before him, the simple +wonder in her eyes showing that such visitors were rare.</p> + +<p>“Is Mrs. Hillmer at home?” he said.</p> + +<p>“I’ll see sir, if you give me your name.”</p> + +<p>“Surely you know whether or not she is at home?”</p> + +<p>The girl stammered and blushed at this unexpected query. “Well, sir,” +she said, “my mistress is in, but I do not know if she can receive any +one. She is dressed to go out.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! that’s better. Now, take her my card, and say that while I will not +detain her, my business is very important.” This with a sweet smile that +put the flurried maid entirely at her ease.</p> + +<p>The girl withdrew, after hesitating for a moment to decide the important +question as to whether or not she should close the door in his face.</p> + +<p>Another smile, and she did not.</p> + +<p>He was thus free to note the luxurious and tasteful air of the general +appointments, for the entrance hall usually reveals much of the +characteristics of the inmates. Here was every evidence of refinement +and wealth. All the display had not been lavished on the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>As he waited, conscious of the fact that his colloquy with the servant +had been overheard, a lady crossed from one room to the other at the end +of the passage. Her smart but simple dress, and the quick scrutiny she +gave <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>him, as though discovering his presence accidentally, caused him +to believe—rightly, as it transpired—that this was the maid-companion +described by his assistant.</p> + +<p>Not only had she obviously made her appearance in order to look at him, +but the housemaid had carried his message to a different section of the +flat.</p> + +<p>The girl returned. “My mistress will see you in a few minutes,” she +said. “Will you kindly step into the dining-room?”</p> + +<p>He followed her, sat down in a position where the strong glare of the +electric lamps would fall on any one who stood opposite, and waited +developments.</p> + +<p>The furniture was solid and appropriate, the carpet rich, and the +pictures, engravings for the most part, excellent. This pleasant room, +warmed by a cheerful fire, impressed Bruce as a place much used by the +household. Books and work-baskets were scattered about, and a piano, +littered with music, filled a corner. There were a few photographs of +persons and places, but he had not time to examine these before the lady +of the house entered.</p> + +<p>Her appearance, for some reason inexplicable to the barrister himself, +took him by surprise. She was tall, graceful, extremely good-looking, +and dressed in a style of quiet elegance. Just the sort of woman one +would expect to find in such a well-appointed abode, yet more refined in +manner than Bruce, from his knowledge of the world, thought he would +meet, judging by the hasty inferences drawn from his subordinate’s +report. She was self-possessed, too. With calm tone, and slightly +elevated eyebrows, she said:</p> + +<p>“You wish to see me, I understand?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Allow me first to apologize for the hour at which I have called.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p><p>“No apology is necessary. But I am going out. Perhaps you will be good +enough not to detain me longer than is absolutely necessary.”</p> + +<p>She stood between the table and the door. Bruce, who had risen at her +entrance, was at the other side of the room. Her words, no less than her +attitude, showed that she desired the interview to be brief. But the +barrister resolved that he would not be repelled so coolly.</p> + +<p>Advancing, with a bow and that fascinating smile of his, he said, +pulling forward a chair:</p> + +<p>“Won’t you be seated?”</p> + +<p>The lady looked at him. She saw a man of fine physique and undoubted +good breeding. She hesitated. There was no reason to be rude to him, so +she sat down.</p> + +<p>Claude drew a chair to the other side of the hearthrug, and commenced:</p> + +<p>“I have ventured to seek this interview for the purpose of making some +inquiries.”</p> + +<p>“I thought so. Are you a policeman?” The words were blurted out +impetuously, a trifle complainingly, but Bruce gave no sign of the +interest they had for him.</p> + +<p>“Good gracious, no,” he cried. “Why should you think that?”</p> + +<p>“Because two detectives have been bothering me, and every other person +in these mansions, about some mysterious lady who called here two months +ago. They don’t know where she called, nor will they state her name; as +if any one could possibly know anything about it. So I naturally thought +you were on the same errand.”</p> + +<p>“Confound that rascal White,” growled he to himself.</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Hillmer went on: “If that is not your business, would you mind +telling me what it is?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p><p>Now Bruce’s alert brain had been actively engaged during the last few +seconds. This woman was not the clever, specious adventuress he had half +expected to meet. It seemed more than ever unlikely that she could have +any knowledge of Lady Dyke or the causes that led to her disappearance. +He was tempted to frame some excuse and take his departure. But the +certainty that his missing friend had visited Raleigh Mansions, and the +necessity there was for exploiting every line of inquiry, impelled him +to adopt this last resource.</p> + +<p>“It is not concerning a missing lady, but concerning a missing gentleman +that I have come to see you.”</p> + +<p>The shot went home.</p> + +<p>Why, for the life of him, he could not tell, but his companion was +manifestly disturbed at his words.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she said.</p> + +<p>Then, after a little pause: “May I ask his name?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. He is known as Mr. Sydney H. Corbett.”</p> + +<p>She gave a slight gasp.</p> + +<p>“Why do you put it in that way? Is not that his right name?”</p> + +<p>“I have reason to believe it is not.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer was so obviously distressed that Bruce inwardly reviled +himself for causing her so much unnecessary suffering. In all +probability, the source of her emotion had not the remotest bearing upon +his quest.</p> + +<p>Then came the pertinent query, after a glance at his card, which she +still held in her hand:</p> + +<p>“Who are you, Mr.—Mr. Claude Bruce?”</p> + +<p>“I am a member of the Bar, of the Inner Temple. My chambers are No. 7 +Paper Buildings, and my private residence is given there.”</p> + +<p>“And why are you interested in Mr. Sydney Corbett?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p><p>“Ah, in that respect I am at this moment unable to enlighten you.”</p> + +<p>“Unable, or unwilling?”</p> + +<p>He indulged in a quiet piece of fencing:</p> + +<p>“Really, Mrs. Hillmer,” he said, “I am not here as in any sense hostile +to you. I merely want some detailed information with regard to this +gentleman, information which you may be able to give me. That is all.”</p> + +<p>All this time he knew that the woman was scrutinizing him +narrowly—trying to weigh him up as it were, not because she feared him, +but rather to discover the true motive of his presence.</p> + +<p>Personally, he had never faced a more difficult task than this +make-believe investigation. He could have laughed at the apparent want +of connection between Lady Dyke’s ill-fated visit to Raleigh Mansions +and this worrying of a beautiful, pleasant-mannered woman, who was +surely neither a principal nor an accomplice in a ghastly crime.</p> + +<p>“Well, I suppose I may consider myself in the hands of counsel. Tell me +what it is you want to know!” Mrs. Hillmer pouted, with the air of a +child about to undergo a scolding.</p> + +<p>“Are you acquainted with Mr. Corbett’s present address?” he said.</p> + +<p>“No. I have neither seen him nor heard from him since early in +November.”</p> + +<p>“Can you be more precise about the period?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, perhaps.” She arose, took from a drawer in the sideboard a packet +of bills—receipted, he observed—searched through them and found the +document she sought. “I purchased a few articles about that time,” she +explained, “and the account for them is dated November 15. I had not +seen my—” She blushed, became confused, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>laughed a little, and went on. +“I had not seen Mr. Corbett for at least a week before that date—say +November 8th or 9th.”</p> + +<p>Lady Dyke disappeared on the evening of the 6th!</p> + +<p>Bruce swallowed his astonishment at the odd coincidence of dates, for he +said, with an encouraging laugh, “Out with it, Mrs. Hillmer. You were +about to describe Mr. Corbett correctly when you recollected yourself.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer, still coloring and becoming saucily cheerful, cried, “Why +should I trouble myself when you, of course, know all that I can tell +you, and probably more? He is my brother, and a pretty tiresome sort of +relation, too.”</p> + +<p>“I am obliged for your confidence. In return, I am free to state that +your brother is now in the South of France.”</p> + +<p>“As you are here, Mr. Bruce,” she said, “I may as well get some advice +gratis. Can people writ him in the South of France? Can they ask me to +pay his debts?”</p> + +<p>“Under ordinary circumstances they can do neither. Certainly not the +latter.”</p> + +<p>“I hope not. But they sometimes come very near to it, as I know to my +cost.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed! How?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer hesitated. Her smile was a trifle scornful, and her color +rose again as she answered: “People are not averse to taking advantage +of circumstances. I have had some experience of this trait in +debt-collectors already. But they must be careful. You, as a legal man, +must know that demands urged on account of personal reasons may come +very near to levying blackmail.”</p> + +<p>“Surely, Mrs. Hillmer, you do not suspect me of being <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>a dun. Perish the +thought! You could never be in debt to me.”</p> + +<p>“Very nice of you. Don’t you represent those people on Leadenhall +Street, then?”</p> + +<p>“What people?”</p> + +<p>“Messrs. Dodge & Co.”</p> + +<p>“No; why do you ask?”</p> + +<p>“Because my brother entered into what he called a ‘deal’ with them. He +underwrote some shares in a South African mine, as a nominal affair, he +told me, and now they want him to pay for them because the company is +not supported by the public.”</p> + +<p>“No, I do not represent Dodge & Co.”</p> + +<p>“Is there something else then? Whom do you represent?”</p> + +<p>“To be as precise as permissible, I may say that my inquiries in no +sense affect financial matters.”</p> + +<p>“What then?”</p> + +<p>“Well, there is a woman in the case.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer was evidently both relieved and interested.</p> + +<p>“No, you don’t say,” she said. “Tell me all about it. I never knew +Bertie to be much taken up with the fair sex. I am all curiosity. Who is +she?”</p> + +<p>He did not take advantage of the mention of a name which in no way stood +for Sydney. Besides, perhaps the initial stood for Herbert. He resolved +to try another tack.</p> + +<p>Glancing at his watch he said: “It is nearly seven o’clock. I have +already detained you an unconscionable time. You were going out. Permit +me to call again, and we can discuss matters at leisure.”</p> + +<p>He rose, and the lady sighed: “You were just beginning to be +entertaining. I was only going to dine at a restaurant. I am quite tired +of being alone.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p><p>Was it a hint? He would see. “Are you dining by yourself, then, Mrs. +Hillmer?”</p> + +<p>“I hardly know. I may bring my maid.”</p> + +<p>Claude now made up his mind. “May I venture,” he said, “after such an +informal introduction, to ask you to dine with me at the Prince’s +Restaurant, and afterwards, perhaps, to look in at the Jollity Theatre?”</p> + +<p>The lady was unfeignedly pleased. She arranged to call for him in her +brougham within twenty minutes, and Bruce hurried off to Victoria Street +in a hansom to dress for this unexpected branch of the detective +business.</p> + +<p>When he told his valet to telephone to the restaurant and the theatre +respectively for a reserved table and a couple of stalls, that worthy +chuckled.</p> + +<p>When his master entered a brougham in which was seated a fur-wrapped +lady, the valet grinned broadly. “I knew it,” he said. “The guv’nor’s on +the mash. Now, who would ever have thought it of him?”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h3> + +<h2>AT THE JOLLITY THEATRE</h2> + +<p>By tacit consent, Claude and his fair companion dropped for the hour the +rôles of inquisitor and witness.</p> + +<p>They were both excellent talkers, they were mutually interested, and +there was in their present escapade a spice of that romance not so +lacking in the humdrum life of London as is generally supposed to be the +case.</p> + +<p>Bruce did not ask himself what tangible result he expected from this +quaint outcome of his visit to Sloane Square. It was too soon yet. He +must trust to the vagaries of chance to elucidate many things now +hidden. Meanwhile a good dinner, a bright theatre, and the society of a +smart, nice-looking woman, were more than tolerable substitutes for +progress.</p> + +<p>As a partial explanation of his somewhat eccentric behavior, he +volunteered a lively account of a recent <i>cause celebre</i>, in which he +had taken a part, but the details of which had been rigidly kept from +the public. He more than hinted that Mr. Sydney Corbett had figured +prominently in the affair; and Mrs. Hillmer laughed with unrestrained +mirth at the unwonted appearance of her brother in the character of a +Lothario.</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” said Bruce confidentially, when a couple of glasses of Moët +’89 had consolidated friendly relations, “what sort of a fellow is this +brother of yours?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p><p>“Not in any sense a bad boy, but a trifle wild. He will not live an +ordinary life, and at times he has been hard pressed to live at all. As +a matter of fact, it is this scrape he blundered into with Messrs. Dodge +& Co. that induced him to masquerade temporarily under an assumed name.”</p> + +<p>“Then what is his real name?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, now you are pumping me again. I refuse to tell.”</p> + +<p>“But there are generally serious reasons when a man disguises himself in +such fashion.”</p> + +<p>“The reason he gave me was that he dreaded being writted for liability +regarding the shares I mentioned to you. It was good enough. Now you +come with this story of meddling with somebody else’s wife. Surely this +is an additional reason. I supplied him with funds until we quarrelled, +and then he went off in a huff.”</p> + +<p>“What did you quarrel about?”</p> + +<p>“That concerns me only.” Mrs. Hillmer was so emphatic that Bruce dropped +the subject.</p> + +<p>When they drove to the theatre Mrs. Hillmer, on alighting at the +entrance, said to her coachman, “You may return home now, and bring +Dobson to meet me at 11.15.”</p> + +<p>“May I venture to inquire who Dobson is?” said Claude.</p> + +<p>“Certainly. Dobson is my maid.”</p> + +<p>This woman puzzled him the more he saw of her. He was now quite positive +that she lived on the fringe of Society. Her status was, at the best, +dubious. Yet he had never heard of her before, nor met her in public. +None of his friends were known to her, and she mentioned no one beyond +those popular personages who are <i>connu</i> of all the world. She was +obviously wealthy and refined, with more than a spice of +unconventionality. At times, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>too, beneath her habitual expressions of +lively and vivacious interest, there was a touch of melancholy.</p> + +<p>For an instant her face grew sad when her eyes rested on a typical +family party of father, mother, and two girls who occupied seats in the +row of stalls directly in front of her.</p> + +<p>For some reason Bruce felt sorry for Mrs. Hillmer. He regretted that the +exigencies of his quest forced him to make her his dupe, and he resolved +that, if by any chance her scapegrace brother were concerned in Lady +Dyke’s death, Mrs. Hillmer should, if possible, be spared personal +humiliation or disgrace.</p> + +<p>Indeed, he had formed such a favorable opinion of her that he had made +up his mind to conduct his future investigations without causing her to +assist involuntarily in putting a halter around her relative’s neck.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, it was impossible to avoid getting some further +information, as the lady herself paved the way for it. Her comments +betrayed such an accurate acquaintance with the technique of the stage +that he said to her, “You must have acted a good deal?”</p> + +<p>“No,” she said, “not very much. But I was stage struck when young.”</p> + +<p>“But you have not appeared in public?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, some six years ago. I worked so hard that I fell ill, and +then—then I got married.”</p> + +<p>“Do you go out much to theatres, nowadays?”</p> + +<p>“Very little. It is lonely by oneself, and there are so few plays worth +seeing.”</p> + +<p>Bruce wondered why she insisted so strongly upon the isolation of her +existence. In his new-found sympathy he forebore to question, and she +continued:</p> + +<p>“When I do visit a theatre I amuse myself mostly by <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>silent criticism of +the actors and actresses. Not that I could do better than many of them, +or half so well, but it passes the time.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you do not regard killing time as your main occupation?”</p> + +<p>“It is so, I fear, however hard I may strive otherwise.” And again that +shadow of regret darkened the fair face.</p> + +<p>Some one in front turned round and glared at them angrily, for the +famous comedian, Mr. Prospect Ricks, was singing his deservedly famous +song, “It was all because I buttoned up her boots,” so the conversation +dropped for the moment.</p> + +<p>Claude focussed his opera-glasses on the stage. While his eyes wandered +idly over the pretty faces and shapely limbs of the coryphées his brain +was busy piecing together all that he had heard. The odd coincidence of +the dates of Lady Dyke’s murder and the speedy departure of the +self-styled Sydney Corbett for the Riviera would require a good deal of +explanation by the latter gentleman.</p> + +<p>True, it was not the barrister’s habit to jump at conclusions. There +might be a perfectly valid motive for the journey. If the man did not +desire his whereabouts to be known, why did he leave his address at the +post-office?</p> + +<p>And, then, what possible reason could Lady Dyke have in visiting him +voluntarily and secretly at his chambers in Raleigh Mansions? This +virtuous and high-principled lady could have nothing in common with a +careless adventurer, taking the most lenient view of his sister’s +description of him. And as Bruce’s subtle brain strove vainly to match +the queer fragments of the puzzle, his keen eyes roved over the stage in +aimless activity.</p> + +<p>Suddenly they paused. His power of vision and mental <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>analysis were +alike inadequate to the new and startling fact which had obtruded +itself, unasked and unsought for, upon his sight.</p> + +<p>Among the least prominent of the chorus girls, posturing and moving with +the stiffness and visible anxiety of the novice, who is not yet +accustomed to the glare of the footlights upon undraped limbs, was one +in whose every gesture Bruce took an absorbing interest.</p> + +<p>He was endowed in full measure with that prime requisite in the +detection of criminals, an unusually good memory for faces, together +with the artistic faculty of catching the true expression.</p> + +<p>Hence it was that, after the whirl of a dancing chorus had for a few +seconds brought this particular member of the company close to the +proscenium, Bruce became quite sure of having developed at least one +branch of his inquiry within measurable distance of its conclusion.</p> + +<p>The girl on the stage was Jane Harding, Lady Dyke’s maid.</p> + +<p>When her features first flashed upon his conscious gaze he could hardly +credit the discovery. But each instant of prolonged scrutiny placed the +fact beyond doubt. Not even the make-up and the elaborate wig could +conceal the contour of her pretty if insipid face, and a slight trick +she had of drooping the left eyelid when thinking confirmed him in his +belief.</p> + +<p>So astounded was he at this sequel to his visit to the theatre, that he +utilized every opportunity of a full stage to examine still further the +appearance and style of this strange apparition.</p> + +<p>When the curtain fell and Jane Harding had vanished, he was brought back +to actuality by Mrs. Hillmer’s voice.</p> + +<p>“Fie, Mr. Bruce. You are taking altogether too much <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>notice of one of +the fair ladies in front. Which one is it? The tall standard bearer or +the little girl who pirouettes so gracefully?”</p> + +<p>“Neither, I assure you. I was taken up by wondering how a young woman +manages to secure employment in a theatre for the first time.”</p> + +<p>“I think I can tell you. Influence goes a long way. Talent occasionally +counts. Then, a well-known agent may, for a nominal fee, get an opening +for a handsome, well-built girl who has taken lessons from either +himself or some of his friends in dancing or singing, or both.”</p> + +<p>“Is such a thing possible for a domestic servant?”</p> + +<p>“It all depends upon the domestic servant’s circle of acquaintances. As +a rule, I should say not. A theatre like this requires a higher average +of intelligence.”</p> + +<p>This, and more, Bruce well knew, but he was only making conversation, +while he thought intently, almost fiercely, upon the latest phase of his +strange quest.</p> + +<p>During the third act he devoted more time to Mrs. Hillmer. If that +sprightly dame were a little astonished at the celerity with which he +conducted her to her carriage and the waiting Dobson, it was banished by +the nice way in which he thanked her for the pleasure she had conferred.</p> + +<p>“The enjoyment has been mostly on my side,” she cried, as he stood near +the window of her brougham. “Come to see me again soon.”</p> + +<p>He bowed, and would have said something if an imperious policeman had +not ordered the coachman to make way for the next vehicle. So Mrs. +Hillmer was whisked into the traffic.</p> + +<p>From force of habit, he glanced casually at the crowd struggling through +the exit of the theatre, and he caught sight of Mr. White, who, too +late, averted his round eyes <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>and strove to shield his portly form in +the portico of a neighboring restaurant.</p> + +<p>He did not want to be bothered by the detective just then. He lit a +cigarette, and Mr. White slid off quietly into the stream of traffic, +finally crossing the road and jumping on to a Charing Cross ’bus.</p> + +<p>“So,” said Claude to himself, “White has been watching Raleigh Mansions, +and watching me too. ’Pon my honor, I shouldn’t wonder if he suspected +me of the murder! I’m glad I saw him just now. For the next couple of +hours I wish to be free from his interference.”</p> + +<p>Waiting a few moments to make sure that White had not detailed an +aide-de-camp to continue the surveillance, he buttoned his overcoat to +the chin, tilted his hat forward, and strolled round to the stage door +of the Jollity Theatre.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h3> + +<h2>MISS MARIE LE MARCHANT</h2> + +<p>The uncertain rays of a weak lamp, struggling through panes dulled by +dirt and black letters, cast a fitful light about the precincts of the +stage-door.</p> + +<p>Elderly women and broken-down men, slovenly and unkempt, kept furtive +guard over the exit, waiting for the particular “super” to come forth +who would propose the expected adjournment to a favorite public-house. +Some smart broughams, a four-wheeler, and a few hansoms, formed a close +line along the pavement, which was soon crowded with the hundred odd +hangers-on of a theatre—scene-shifters, gasmen, limelight men, members +of the orchestra, dressers, and attendants—mingling with the small +stream of artistes constantly pouring out into the cold night after a +casual inquiry for letters at the office of the doorkeeper.</p> + +<p>This being a fashionable place of amusement there were not wanting +several representatives of the gilded youth, some obviously ginger-bread +or “unleavened” imitations, others callow specimens of the genuine +article.</p> + +<p>Bruce paid little heed to them as they impudently peered beneath each +broad-leafed and high-feathered hat to discover the charmer honored by +their chivalrous attentions.</p> + +<p>Yet the presence of this brigade of light-headed cavaliers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>helped the +barrister far more than he could have foreseen or even hoped.</p> + +<p>At last the ex-lady’s maid appeared, dressed in a showy winter costume +and jaunty toque. She was on very friendly terms with two older girls, +on whom the stage had set its ineffaceable seal, and the reason was soon +apparent.</p> + +<p>“Come along,” she cried, her words being evidently intended to have an +effect on others in the throng less favored than those whom she +addressed; “let us get into a hansom and go to Scott’s for supper. Here, +cabby!”</p> + +<p>She was on the step of a hansom when a tall, good-looking boy, +faultlessly dressed, and with something of Sandhurst or Woolwich in his +carriage, darted forward.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Millie,” he said to one of Jane Harding’s companions. “How are +you? A couple of fellows have come up with me for the night. Let’s all +go and have something to eat at the Duke’s,” thereby indicating a +well-known club usually patronized by higher class artistes than this +trio.</p> + +<p>After a series of introductions by Christian names, among which Bruce +failed to catch the word “Jane,” the party went off in three hansoms, a +pair in each.</p> + +<p>Claude was not a member of the “Duke’s,” though he had often been there. +But there was a man close at hand who was a member of everything in +London that in any way pertained to things theatrical. Every one knew +Billy Sadler and Billy Sadler knew every one. A brief run in a cab to a +theatre, a restaurant, and another restaurant, revealed the +large-hearted Billy, drinking a whisky and soda and relating to a +friend, with great gusto and much gesticulation, the very latest quarrel +between the stage-manager and the leading lady. He hailed Claude with +enthusiasm.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p><p>“’Pon my soul, Bruce, old chap, haven’t seen you for an age. Where have +you bin? An’ what’s the little game now?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Sadler was fully aware of the barrister’s penchant for investigating +mysteries. The two had often foregathered in the past.</p> + +<p>“Are you ‘busy’”? said Bruce.</p> + +<p>“Not a bit. By-bye, Jack. See you at luncheon to-morrow at the +Gorgonzola. Well, what is it?”</p> + +<p>“I want you to come with me to the ‘Duke’s.’ There’s a young lady there +I’m interested in.”</p> + +<p>Billy squeezed round in the hansom, which was now bowling across a +corner of Trafalgar Square.</p> + +<p>“You,” he cried. “After a girl! Is she in the profession? Is mamma +frightened about her angel? The correct figure for a breach just now, my +boy, is five thou’.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s nothing serious. I will tell you all about it when matters +have cleared a bit. It is a mere item in a really big story. But, here +we are. Take me straight to the supper-room.”</p> + +<p>As they entered the comfortable, brightly lit club the strains of a band +came pleasantly to their ears, and in a minute they were installed at a +corner table in the splendid room devoted to the most cheery of all +gatherings—a Bohemian meal when the labors of the night are past.</p> + +<p>Bruce soon marked his quarry. Jane Harding was in great form—eating, +drinking, and talking at the same time.</p> + +<p>“Who is that, Billy?” he said, indicating the girl.</p> + +<p>Sadler carefully balanced his <i>pince-nez</i> on his well-defined nose, +gazed, and laughed: “Goodness knows. She’s a new-comer, and not much at +the best. Do you know where she carries a banner?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p><p>“At the Jollity.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! then here’s our man”—for a Mephistophelian gentleman was passing +at the moment. “Say, Rosenheim, who’s the new coryphée over there?”</p> + +<p>Mephistopheles halted, looked at Jane and laughed, too. “Her name is +Miss Marie le Marchant; but as she happened to be born in London she +pronounces it Mahrie Lee Mahshuns, with the accent on the ‘Mahs.’ +Anything else you would like to know?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I’m stuck on her! Where did you pick her up?”</p> + +<p>“She’s a housemaid, or something of the sort. Came into money. Wants to +knock ’em on the stige. The rest is easy.”</p> + +<p>“Has she been with you long?” put in Claude, as their informant was the +under-manager of the Jollity.</p> + +<p>Mr. Rosenheim glanced at him. Sadler, he knew, had no interest in the +girl, and the barrister did not quite possess the juvenile appearance +that warranted such solicitude.</p> + +<p>“She joined us just before Christmas. What’s up? Is she really worth a +lot of ’oof?”</p> + +<p>“I should imagine not,” laughed Bruce; and Mr. Rosenheim joined another +group.</p> + +<p>Supper ended, Marie and Millie, and eke Flossie, attended by their +swains, discussed coffee and cognac in the <i>foyer</i>.</p> + +<p>Chance separated Miss le Marchant, as she may now be known, momentarily +from the others, and Bruce darted forward.</p> + +<p>“Good-evening,” he said. “I am delighted to meet you here.”</p> + +<p>The girl recognized him instantly. She would have denied her identity, +but her nerve failed her before those <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>steadfast, penetrating eyes. +Moreover, it was not an ill thing for such a well-bred, well-dressed man +to acknowledge her so openly.</p> + +<p>“Good-evening, Mr. Bruce,” she said, with a smile of assurance, though +her voice faltered a little.</p> + +<p>He resolved to make the situation easy.</p> + +<p>“We have not met for such a long time,” he said; “and I am simply dying +to have a talk with you. I am sure your friends will pardon me if I +carry you off for five minutes to a quiet corner.”</p> + +<p>With a simper, Miss le Marchant took his proffered arm, and they went +off to an unoccupied table.</p> + +<p>“Now, Jane Harding,” said he, with some degree of sternness in his +manner, “be good enough to explain to me why you are passing under a +false name, and the reasons which led you to leave Sir Charles Dyke’s +house in such a particularly disagreeable way.”</p> + +<p>“Disagreeable? I only left in a hurry. Who had any right to stop me?”</p> + +<p>“No one, in a sense, except that Sir Charles Dyke may feel inclined to +prosecute you.”</p> + +<p>“For what, Mr. Bruce?”</p> + +<p>This emancipated servant girl was not such a simpleton as she looked. It +was necessary to frighten her and at the same time to force her to admit +the facts with reference to her sensational flight from Wensley House.</p> + +<p>“You must know,” he said, “that Sir Charles Dyke can proceed against you +in the County Court to recover wages in lieu of notice, and this would +be far from pleasant for you in your new surroundings.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know that. But why should Sir Charles Dyke, or you, or any other +gentleman, want to destroy a poor girl’s prospects in that fashion?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p><p>“Surely, you must feel that some explanation is due to us for your +extraordinary behavior?”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t feel a bit like it.”</p> + +<p>“But why did you go away?”</p> + +<p>“To suit myself.”</p> + +<p>“Could you not have given notice? Why was it necessary to create a +further scandal in addition to the disappearance of your unfortunate +mistress?”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry for that. It was thoughtless, I admit. If I had to act over +again I should have done differently. But what does it matter now?”</p> + +<p>“It matters this much—that the police must be informed of your +existence, as they are searching for you, believing that you are in some +way mixed up with Lady Dyke’s death.”</p> + +<p>The girl started violently, and she flushed, rather with anger than +alarm, Bruce thought, as he watched her narrowly.</p> + +<p>“The police, indeed,” she snorted; “what have the police to do with me? +A nice thing you’re saying, Mr. Bruce.”</p> + +<p>“I am merely telling you the naked truth.”</p> + +<p>“All right. Tell them. I don’t care a pin for them or you. Have you +anything else to say, because I wish to join my friends?”</p> + +<p>The girl’s language and attitude mystified him more than any preceding +feature of this remarkable investigation. She was, of course, far better +educated than he had imagined, and the difference between the hysterical +witness at the coroner’s inquiry and this pert, self-possessed young +woman was phenomenal.</p> + +<p>Rather than risk an open rupture, the barrister temporized. “If you are +anxious to quarrel with me, by all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>means do so,” he said; “but that was +not my motive in speaking to you here to-night.”</p> + +<p>Miss le Marchant shot a suspicious glance at him. “Then what was your +motive,” she said.</p> + +<p>“Chiefly to reassure my friend, your former master, concerning you; and, +perhaps, to learn the cause of your very strange conduct.”</p> + +<p>“Why should Sir Charles bother his head about me?”</p> + +<p>“As I have told you. Because of the coincidence between your departure +and Lady—”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, I know that.” Then she added testily: “I was a fool not to +manage differently.”</p> + +<p>“So you refuse me an explanation?”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t. I have no reason to do so. I came in for some money, and +as I have longed all my life to be an actress I could not wait an hour, +a moment, before I—before I—”</p> + +<p>“Before you tried to gratify your impulse.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is what I wanted to say.”</p> + +<p>“But why not at least have written to Sir Charles, telling him of your +intentions?”</p> + +<p>The fair Marie was silent for a moment. The question confused her. “I +hardly know,” she replied.</p> + +<p>“Will you write to him now?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see why I should.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed. Not even when it was you who gave some of your mistress’s +underclothing to Mr. White, by which means he was able to identify the +body found at Putney as that of Lady Dyke?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. White told you that, did he?”</p> + +<p>“He did.”</p> + +<p>“Then you had better get him to give you all further <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>information, Mr. +Bruce, as not another word will you get out of me.”</p> + +<p>She bounced up, fiery red, pluming herself for the fray.</p> + +<p>“Will you not communicate with Sir Charles?” he said, utterly baffled by +Miss le Marchant’s uncompromising attitude.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I will and perhaps I won’t. Mr. White, indeed!” And she ran off +to join her friends.</p> + +<p>The barrister drove quietly homewards. This was his summary of the +evening’s events: “I have found two women. When I know all about them I +shall be able to lay my hand on the person who killed Lady Dyke.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h3> + +<h2>IN THE CITY</h2> + +<p>Messrs. Dodge & Co., of Leadenhall Street, possessed business premises +of greater pretensions than Bruce had pictured to himself from Mrs. +Hillmer’s description of their transactions with her brother.</p> + +<p>Not only were their offices commodious and well situated, but a liberal +display of gold lettering, intermingled with official brass plates +marking the registering offices of many companies, gave evidence of some +degree of importance—whether fictitious or otherwise Bruce could not +determine, as he scrutinized the exterior of the building on the +following morning.</p> + +<p>Moreover, workmen were even then busy in substituting the title “Dodge, +Son & Co., Ltd.,” for “Messrs. Dodge & Company,” the suggestive nature +of the latter designation having perhaps proved a stumbling-block in the +way of the guileless investor.</p> + +<p>When the barrister entered the office, a busy place, a hive of many +clerks, and adorned with gigantic maps of the Rand, West Australia, +Cripple Creek, and Klondike, he asked for “Mr. Dodge.”</p> + +<p>His card procured him ready admission. He was shown into an elaborately +upholstered apartment of considerable size. At the farther end, seated +in front of a gorgeous American desk, was a young man who ostentatiously +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>finished a letter and then motioned the barrister to a seat.</p> + +<p>Bruce was curious on the question of the age of the head of the firm.</p> + +<p>“Are you Mr. Dodge, or the son?” he said, with the utmost gravity.</p> + +<p>The other was taken back by this unexpected method of opening the +conversation. It annoyed him.</p> + +<p>“I am the representative of the firm, sir, and fully able to deal with +your business, whatever it may be,” he replied.</p> + +<p>“No doubt. But it will simplify matters if I know exactly to whom I am +addressing myself.”</p> + +<p>After an uneasy shuffling in his seat—he could not guess what this +keen-faced, earnest-eyed lawyer might want—the representative of +Messrs. Dodge, Son & Co. (Limited) explained that he was Dodge, and the +name of the firm had been adopted for general purposes.</p> + +<p>“Then there is no ‘son,’ I take it.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, there is, sir,”—this with a snort of anger.</p> + +<p>“How old is he?”</p> + +<p>“What the Dickens has that got to do with it? Will you kindly tell me +what you want, sir, as my time is fully occupied?”</p> + +<p>“Just now I want to know how old the ‘son’ is?”</p> + +<p>This calm persistence irritated Mr. Dodge beyond endurance.</p> + +<p>“Three years, confound you, and his sister is four months. Can I oblige +you with any more details concerning my family affairs?”</p> + +<p>Having purposely raised this man to boiling point by this harmless +method of examination, Claude tackled the real business in hand. He was +quite sure that a financial sharper in a temper was far more likely to +blurt out the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>truth than if he were approached in a matter-of-fact +manner.</p> + +<p>“To begin with,” he explained, never taking his eyes off the furious +face of Mr. Dodge, “I have called to ask for information with regard to +your dealings with Mr. Sydney H. Corbett, of Raleigh Mansions, Sloane +Square.”</p> + +<p>“I never heard of him in my life. You have evidently come to the wrong +office, Mr. Bruce.”</p> + +<p>“Are you quite sure?”</p> + +<p>“Well, nearly so. However, I can tell you in a moment, as it is +impossible for me to carry every name connected with several companies +in my memory.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Dodge recovered his temper now that he saw a chance of disconcerting +his caustic visitor. He touched an electric bell, and told the answering +youth to send Mr. Hawkins.</p> + +<p>“My correspondence clerk,” he explained loftily when Hawkins entered. +“Are we in communication with any one named Sydney H. Corbett, Mr. +Hawkins?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Have you ever heard the name?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“That will do. You may go. You see you have come to the wrong shop, Mr. +Bruce.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, so I see.”</p> + +<p>The barrister kept looking at the back of Mr. Dodge’s head, but made no +move.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dodge became puzzled.</p> + +<p>“Now, Mr. Bruce,” he cried, “you know the age of my son, and the extent +of my information about Mr. Corbett. Is there anything else in which I +may be of service?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. You do a great deal of underwriting, mostly for the flotation of +gold-mining companies?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p><p>“Y—yes. That is a branch of our business.”</p> + +<p>“I am interested in this class of undertaking, and I was given to +understand that Mr. Corbett has had some dealings with you in a similar +respect for a considerable sum of money.”</p> + +<p>“The name is absolutely unknown to me.”</p> + +<p>“Of course. So I gather. I am sorry to hear it. Several clients of mine +have money to invest in that way, and I naturally came to a firm whose +name apparently figured largely in the transactions of Mr. Corbett.”</p> + +<p>It was good to see the manner in which Mr. Dodge metaphorically kicked +himself for his previous attitude. His emotion was painful. For quite an +appreciable time he could not trust his sentiments to words.</p> + +<p>At last he struggled to express himself.</p> + +<p>“Really, Mr. Bruce, if you had only put things differently. Don’t you +see, it rather upset me when you came in and began jawing about the +youngsters. And then you spring Mr. Corbett’s name on me—a man of whom +I have no sort of knowledge. It must have been my firm of which your +friends heard. There is absolutely no other Dodge in Leadenhall Street. +Indeed, we are the only financial Dodges—that is—er—Messrs. Dodge, +Son & Co. (Limited) are the only firm of the name dealing with financial +matters—in the city.”</p> + +<p>By this time Bruce had assured himself that Mr. Dodge did not know Mr. +Corbett’s identity, and if Mrs. Hillmer’s brother had changed his name +to conceal himself from Dodge, it was likely to be successful.</p> + +<p>“Anyhow, I am here, Mr. Dodge,” he said cheerfully, “so I may as well +enter into negotiations with you. Have you any good things in hand at +this moment?”</p> + +<p>“Some of the best. We are just waiting for the market <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>to ease a bit, +and we shall have at least five splendid properties to place before the +public. By the way, do you smoke?”</p> + +<p>Bruce did smoke; and Mr. Dodge produced a box of excellent cigars. Then +he warmed to his work.</p> + +<p>“Here is the prospectus of the Golden Halo Mine, capital £150,000, for +which the vendors are asking £140,000 in cash, with a working capital of +£10,000. The ore now in sight is estimated to produce two millions +sterling, and the mine is not one-tenth developed. We are offering +underwriters ten per cent in cash, and there is not the slightest risk, +as the shares will stand at a high premium within a few days after the +lists—”</p> + +<p>“It sounds most promising,” said Bruce; “but my principals are more +interested in taking up concerns which have been already established, +but in which, for want of sufficient capital, the vendors’ shares have, +by a process of reconstruction, come into the market. If you have +anything of that kind—”</p> + +<p>“The very thing,” interrupted Dodge excitedly. “The Springbok Mine will +just suit ’em. After all is said and done, Golden Halos are a bit in the +air, between you and me. But the Springbok is a genuine article. It was +capitalized for a quarter of a million, and the directors went to +allotment on a subscription list of about £14,000. This money has been +expended, but twice the amount is necessary to develop the property +properly. A call was made on the shares, but no one paid up, and there +is a talk of compulsory reconstruction. Believe me, money put into it +now will yield two hundred per cent in dividends within twelve months.”</p> + +<p>“There is a whiff of scent on this trail,” said Claude to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>himself. He +added aloud: “That looks promising. Can you give me details?”</p> + +<p>“By all means. Here is the original prospectus.” Bruce glanced through +the document, which dealt with the Springbok claims on the Rand with +more candor than is usually exhibited in such compilations. Judging from +the reports of several mining engineers of repute it really looked as +if, this time, Mr. Dodge were speaking with some degree of accuracy.</p> + +<p>“This reads well,” said Bruce. “What proportion of share capital is +falling in on the reconstruction scheme?”</p> + +<p>“I hold fifty thousand shares myself,” cried Dodge, “and though my money +is locked up just now I am so convinced about this mine that I will +manage to pay the call myself. Roughly speaking, there are one hundred +and fifty thousand shares to be underwritten at, say, three shillings +each.”</p> + +<p>“And who are the present holders?”</p> + +<p>The barrister asked the question in the most unconcerned way imaginable, +yet upon the answer depended the whole success or otherwise of this +hitherto unproductive mission.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dodge was manifestly anxious.</p> + +<p>“I take it that we are talking with a definite view to business?” he +said.</p> + +<p>The barrister hesitated. Even in the detection of a crime a man does not +care to tell a deliberate lie, and Dodge’s attitude so far had been +candid enough. The Springbok Mine honestly looked to be a good +speculative investment, so he resolved to place the proposition before +one or two friends who dealt with similar matters, and who were fully +able to look after their own interests.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p><p>“Yes,” he answered, “I am here for that purpose. If my principals like +this thing they will go in for it.”</p> + +<p>“Then here is the vendors’ list,” said Mr. Dodge, taking a foolscap +sheet from a drawer.</p> + +<p>Claude perused it nonchalantly. His quick eyes took in each name and +address out of half-a-dozen, and rejected all as being in no way +connected with the man whose antecedents he was seeking.</p> + +<p>Yet, where possible, he left nothing to chance.</p> + +<p>“Have you any objection to a copy being made?” he asked.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dodge hummed doubtfully.</p> + +<p>“You see,” went on the barrister, “it is best to be quite candid with +people whom you wish to bring into risky if apparently high promising +ventures. I presume these gentlemen are moneyless. If so, it is a factor +in favor of your scheme. Should any of them be men of means, my +principals would naturally ask why they did not themselves underwrite +the shares.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Dodge was convinced. “From that point of view,” he cried +emphatically, “they are above suspicion. Jot them down, sir.”</p> + +<p>The barrister armed himself with the necessary documents, and they +parted with mutual good wishes. It was only after reflection that Mr. +Dodge saw how remarkably little he had got out of the interview. “He was +a jolly smart chap,” communed the company promoter. “I wonder what he +was really after. And who the dickens is Mr. Sydney H. Corbett? Anyhow, +the Springbok business is quite above board. How can I raise the wind +for my little lot?”</p> + +<p>If Mr. Bruce had probed more deeply Mr. Dodge’s holding, he would have +been saved much future perturbation. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>But, clever as he was, he did not +know all the methods of financial juggling practised by experts on the +Stock Exchange.</p> + +<p>A hansom brought him quickly to Portman Square. In fulfilment of his +promise, he was about to place Sir Charles Dyke in possession of his +recent discoveries.</p> + +<p>When the door of Wensley House opened, the butler, Thompson, who +happened to be in the hall, anticipated the footman’s answer to Bruce’s +inquiry.</p> + +<p>“Sir Chawles left yesterday for Bournemouth, sir. ’E was that hovercome +by the weather an’ his trouble that ’e has gone for a few days’ rest at +the seaside. If you called, sir, I was to tell you ’e would be glad to +see you there should you find it convenient to run down. And, sir, +you’ll never guess who came ’ere this morning, as bold as brass.”</p> + +<p>“Jane Harding.”</p> + +<p>“Now, ’ow upon earth can you ’it upon things that way, sir? It was ’er, +’er very self. And you ought to ’ave seen her airs. ‘Thompson,’ sez she, +‘is Sir Chawles at ’ome?’ ‘No, ’e isn’t,’ sez I; ‘but you’re wanted at +the polis station.’ She was in a keb, and she ’ad asked a butcher’s boy +to pull the bell, so ’im and the cabby larfed. ‘Thompson,’ she said, +very red in the face, ‘I’ll ’ave you dismissed for your impidence.’ An’ +off she went. Did you ever ’ear anythink like it, sir?”</p> + +<p>“No, Thompson, Miss Harding is certainly a cool hand.”</p> + +<p>Bruce walked to his chambers, and his stroll through the parks was +engrossed by one subject of thought. It was not Mrs. Hillmer, nor +Corbett, nor Dodge who troubled him. What puzzled him more than all else +was the “impidence” of Jane Harding.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h3> + +<h2>THE HOTEL DU CERCLE</h2> + +<p>Bruce did not go to Bournemouth.</p> + +<p>He quitted London by the next mail, and after a wearisome journey of +thirty-six hours, found himself in the garden courtyard of the Hotel du +Cercle at Monte Carlo.</p> + +<p>Refreshed by a bath and an excellent <i>déjeuner</i>, he decided to go +quietly to work and search the visitors’ book for himself without asking +any questions. The Hotel du Cercle was a popular resort, and it took him +some time, largely devoted to the elucidation of hieroglyphic +signatures, before he was quite satisfied that no one even remotely +suggestive of the name of Sydney H. Corbett had recorded his presence in +the hotel since the first week in November.</p> + +<p>The barrister, for the first time, began to doubt Mrs. Hillmer. Twice +had her statements not been verified by facts. It was with an expression +of keen annoyance at his own folly in trusting so much to a favorable +impression that he turned to the hotel clerk to ask if the name of Mr. +Sydney H. Corbett was familiar to him.</p> + +<p>The courteous Frenchman screwed up his forehead into a reflective frown +before he answered: “But yes, monsieur. Me, I have not seen the +gentleman, but he exists. There have been letters—two, three letters.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, letters! Has he received them?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p><p>The attendant examined a green baize-covered board, decorated with +diamonds of tape, in which was stuck an assortment of letters, mostly +addressed to American tourists.</p> + +<p>“They were here! They have gone! Then he has taken them!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” cried Bruce; “but surely you know something about him?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing. This hall is open to all the world.”</p> + +<p>“Do you tell me that any one can come here and take any letters which +may be stuck in that rack?”</p> + +<p>“Will the gentleman be pleased to consider? Many persons give their +address here days and weeks before they come to arrive. Some persons, in +the manner of Monte Carlo, do not wish their names to be known of +everybody. We cannot distinguish. We do not allow the address of the +hotel to be used improperly, if we know it; but there are no +complaints.”</p> + +<p>The barrister did not argue the matter further. He only said: “Perhaps +you can tell me thus far, as I am very anxious to meet Mr. Corbett. +About how long is it since the last letter came for him?”</p> + +<p>“But certainly. It came yesterday. It was re-addressed from some place +in London. If possible, with the next one I will keep watch for Mr. +Corbett.”</p> + +<p>So Mrs. Hillmer had not misled him. The so-called Corbett was in Monte +Carlo, but had possibly disguised himself under another name. Again did +Bruce consult the hotel register, this time with the aid of the vendors’ +list in the Springbok Mine, but without result.</p> + +<p>There was nothing for it but to familiarize himself with Monte Carlo and +its <i>habitués</i>, awaiting developments in the chase of Corbett. In +January, when London alternates <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>between fog and sleet, it is not an +intolerable thing to remain in forced idleness amid the sunshine and +flowers of the Riviera. There are two ways of “doing” Monte Carlo. You +may live riotously, lose your substance at the Casino, and go home on a +free ticket supplied by the proprietors of the gambling saloons, or you +may enjoy to the utmost the keen air, magnificent scenery, fine +promenades, and excellent music—the two latter provided by the same +benevolent agency.</p> + +<p>It is needless to say which of these alternatives appealed to Claude +Bruce. Being a rich man, it was of no consequence to him to lose a few +louis in backing the red for a five minutes’ bit of excitement. Being a +sensible one, he then quitted the Casino and went for a stroll in the +gardens.</p> + +<p>Fashion, backed by the doctors, has decreed that no longer shall the +northern littoral of the Mediterranean be the only haven of rest for +those afflicted with pulmonary complaints. Weak-chested and consumptive +people are now banished to the windless and icy altitudes of +Switzerland; so of recent years a walk through Nice, Mentone, or Monte +Carlo itself is not such a depressing experience as it was when every +second person encountered was a hopeless invalid.</p> + +<p>A pigeon-shooting match was in progress, and, as Bruce fell in with a +friend who took a prominent part in local life, the two entered the club +grounds to watch the contest.</p> + +<p>At the moment a handsome, well-set-up young Englishman was shooting off +a tie with a Russian count. A very pretty girl, with a delicate and +refined beauty enhanced by a pleasant expression, was taking a most +unfeminine interest in the slaughter of the pigeons by the Englishman.</p> + +<p>Her eyes spoke her thoughts. It was as if they said: <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>“I do not want the +birds to be killed, but I want a certain person to win.”</p> + +<p>Nine birds each had been grassed, and the Russian was growing impatient. +The Englishman was cool, his fair backer keenly excited. The Count fired +and missed his tenth. Up rose the Englishman’s bird, and the girl could +not restrain an impetuous “Now!”</p> + +<p>So the Englishman missed also.</p> + +<p>Amidst the buzz of comment which arose, Bruce said to his companion: +“What’s going on?”</p> + +<p>“This is the final tie in the International. It is a big prize, and each +man has backed himself heavily. The two are Albert Mensmore and Count +Bischkoff. The girl has taken all the nerve out of Mensmore. Bar +accident, he is a goner.”</p> + +<p>The cynic was right. In the thirteenth round the count alone scored, and +smiled largely in response to his antagonist’s quiet congratulations. As +for the girl, it was with difficulty she restrained her tears.</p> + +<p>“I think that we have witnessed a tragedy,” said Bruce’s acquaintance as +they walked off; and the barrister agreed with him. He was sorry for +Mensmore and his pretty supporter. Mayhap the loss of the match meant a +great deal to both of them.</p> + +<p>That night he learned by chance that Mensmore lived at the Hotel du +Cercle. He met him in the billiard-room and tried to inveigle him into +conversation. But the young fellow was too miserable to respond to his +advances. Beyond a mere civil acknowledgement of some slight act of +politeness, Bruce could not draw him out.</p> + +<p>Next morning he saw Mensmore again. If the man looked haggard the +previous evening his appearance now was positively startling, that is, +to one of Bruce’s powers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>of observation. Ninety-nine men out of a +hundred would have seen that Mensmore had not slept well. Bruce was +assured that, for some reason, the other’s brain was dominated by some +overwhelming idea, and one which might eventuate in a tragic manner were +it to be allowed to go unchecked.</p> + +<p>For some reason he took a good deal of interest in his unfortunate +fellow-countryman, and determined to help him if the opportunity +presented itself.</p> + +<p>It came, with dramatic rapidity.</p> + +<p>During dinner he noticed that Mensmore was in such a state of mental +disturbance that he ate and drank with the air of one who is feverishly +wasting rather than replenishing his strength.</p> + +<p>Soon after eight o’clock, at the hour when frequenters of the Casino go +there in order to secure a seat for the evening’s play, Mensmore quitted +the dining-room. Bruce followed him unobstrusively, and was just in time +to see him enter the lift.</p> + +<p>The barrister waited in the hall, having first secured his hat and +overcoat from the bureau, where he happened to have left them.</p> + +<p>Even while he noted the descending lift, in which he could see Mensmore, +who had donned a light covert coat, the breast of which bulged somewhat +on the left side, the hotel clerk came to him, triumphantly holding a +letter.</p> + +<p>“And now, monsieur,” cried the clerk, “we shall see what we shall see.”</p> + +<p>The missive was addressed to the mysterious Sydney H. Corbett, and had +been forwarded by the Sloane Square Post-Office.</p> + +<p>With a clang the door of the lift swung open and Mensmore hastened out. +Bruce had to decide instantly between <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>the chance of seeing Corbett with +his own eyes and pursuing the fanciful errand he had mapped out in +imagination with reference to the stranger who so interested him.</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” he said to the clerk. “I am going to the Casino for an +hour; you will greatly oblige me by keeping a sharp lookout for any one +who claims the letter.”</p> + +<p>“Monsieur, it shall have my utmost regard.”</p> + +<p>The barrister had not erred in his surmise as to Mensmore’s destination. +The young man walked straight across the square and entered the grounds +of the famous Casino.</p> + +<p>Indoors, an excellent band was playing a selection from “The Geisha.” +The spacious <i>foyer</i> was fast filling with a fashionable throng; +without, the silver radiance of the moon, lighting up gardens, rocks, +buildings, and sea, might well have added the last link to the pleasant +bondage that would keep any one from the gambling saloon that night; but +Mensmore heeded none of these things.</p> + +<p>He passed the barrier, closely followed by Bruce, crossed the <i>foyer</i>, +and disappeared through the baize doors that guard the magnificent room +in which roulette is played.</p> + +<p>Round several of the tables a fairly considerable crowd had gathered +already. The more, the merrier, is the rule of the Casino. There is +something curiously fascinating for the gambler in the presence of +others. It would seem to be an almost ridiculous thing for a man to +stalk solemnly up to a deserted board and stake his money on the chances +of the game merely for the edification of the officials in charge.</p> + +<p>Bruce entered the room soon after Mensmore, and saw the latter elbowing +his way to a seat about to be vacated <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>by a stout Spanish lady, who had +rapidly lost the sum she allowed herself to stake each day.</p> + +<p>She was one of those numerous players who bring to the Casino a certain +amount daily, and systematically stop playing when they have either lost +their money or won a previously determined maximum.</p> + +<p>This method, in fact, when combined with a careful system, is the only +one whereby even a rich individual can indulge in a costly pastime, and, +at the same time, escape speedy ruin. With a fair share of luck it may +be made to pay; with continuous bad fortune the loss is spread over such +a period that common sense has some opportunity to rescue the victim +before it is too late.</p> + +<p>Claude took up a position from which he could note the actions of the +stranger in whom he was so interested. At first, Mensmore staked +nothing. He placed a small pile of gold in front of him; he seemed to +listen expectantly to the <i>croupier’s</i> monotonous cry—“<i>Vingt-sept</i>, +<i>rouge</i>, <i>impair</i>, <i>passe</i>,” or “<i>Dixhuit</i>, <i>noir</i>, <i>pair</i>, <i>manque</i>,” +and so on, while the little ivory ball whirred around the disc, and the +long rakes, with unerring skill, drew in or pushed forward the sums lost +or won.</p> + +<p>The dominant expression of Mensmore’s face as he sat and listened was +one of disappointment. Something for which he waited did not happen. At +last, with a tightening of his lips and a gathering sternness in his +eyes, he placed five louis on the red, the number previously called +being thirteen.</p> + +<p>Black won.</p> + +<p>For the next three attempts, each time with a five louis stake on the +board, Mensmore backed the red, but still black won.</p> + +<p>Next to him, an Italian, betting in notes of a thousand <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>francs each, +had quadrupled his first bet by backing the black.</p> + +<p>Both men rose simultaneously, the Italian grinning delightedly at a +smart Parisienne, who joyously nodded her congratulations, the +Englishman quiet, utterly unmoved, but slightly pallid.</p> + +<p>He passed out into the <i>foyer</i> and stopped to light a cigarette. Bruce +noticed that his hand was steady, and that all the air of excitement had +gone.</p> + +<p>These were ill signs. There is no man so calm as he who has deliberately +resolved to take his own life. That Mensmore was ruined, that he was +hopelessly in love with a woman whom he could not marry, and that he was +about to commit suicide, Bruce was as certain as though the facts had +been proved by a coroner.</p> + +<p>But this thing should not happen if he could prevent it.</p> + +<p>The band was now playing one of Waldteufel’s waltzes. Mensmore listened +to the fascinating melody for a moment. He hesitated at the door of the +writing-room; but he went out, puffing furiously at his cigarette. A +guard looked at him as he turned to the right of the entrance, and made +for the shaded terraces overlooking the sea.</p> + +<p>“A silent Englishman,” thought the man; and he caught sight of Bruce, +also smoking, preoccupied, and solitary.</p> + +<p>“Another silent Englishman. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> What miserable lives these +English lead!”</p> + +<p>And so the two vanished into the blackness of the foliage, while, within +the brilliantly lighted building, the <i>frou-frou</i> of silk mingled with +soft laughter and the sweet strains of music.</p> + +<p>If it be true that extremes meet, then this was a night for a tragedy.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h3> + +<h2>BREAKING THE BANK</h2> + +<p>There were not many people in this part of the Casino gardens. A few +love-making couples and a handful of others who preferred the chilly +quietude of Nature to the throng of the interior promenade, made up the +occupants of the winding paths that cover the seaward slope.</p> + +<p>At last Mensmore halted. There was no one in front, and he turned to +look if the terrace were clear behind him. He caught sight of Bruce, but +did not recognize him, and leant against a low wall, ostensibly to gaze +at the sea until the other had passed.</p> + +<p>Claude came up to him and cried cheerily:</p> + +<p>“Hello! Is that you, Mr. Mensmore? Isn’t it a lovely night?”</p> + +<p>Mensmore, startled at being thus unexpectedly addressed by name, wheeled +about, stared at the new-comer, and said, very stiffly:</p> + +<p>“Yes; but I felt rather seedy in the Casino, so I came here to be +alone.”</p> + +<p>“Of course,” answered the barrister. “You look a little out of sorts. +Perhaps got a chill, eh? It is dangerous weather here, particularly on +these heavenly evenings. Come back with me to the hotel, and have a +stiff brandy and soda. It will brace you up.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore flushed a little at this persistence.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p><p>“I tell you,” he growled, “that I only require to be left in peace, and +I shall soon recover from my indisposition. I am awfully obliged to you, +but—”</p> + +<p>“But you wish me to walk on and mind my own business?”</p> + +<p>“Not exactly that, old chap. Please don’t think me rude. I am very +sorry, but I <i>can’t</i> talk much to-night.”</p> + +<p>“So I understand. That is why I think it is best for you to have +company, even such disagreeable companionship as my own.”</p> + +<p>“Confound it, man,” cried the other, now thoroughly irritated; “tell me +which way you are going and I will take the other. Why on earth cannot +you take a polite hint, and leave me to myself?”</p> + +<p>“It is precisely because I am good at taking a hint that I positively +refuse to leave you until you are safely landed at your hotel. Indeed, I +may stick to you then for some hours.”</p> + +<p>“The devil take you! What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Exactly what I say.”</p> + +<p>“If you don’t quit this instant I will punch your head for you.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! You are recovering already. But before you start active exercise +take your overcoat off. That revolver in the breast pocket might go off +accidentally, you know. Besides, as I shall hit back, I might fetch my +knuckles against it, and that would be hardly fair. Otherwise, I can do +as much in the punching line as you can, any day.”</p> + +<p>This reply utterly disconcerted Mensmore.</p> + +<p>“Look here,” he said, avoiding Bruce’s steadfast gaze, “what are you +talking about? What has it got to do with you, anyhow?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p><p>“Oh, a great deal. My business principally consists in looking after +other people’s affairs. Just now it is my definite intention to prevent +you from blowing out your brains, or what passes for them.”</p> + +<p>“Then all I can say is that I wish you were in Jericho. It is your own +fault if you get into trouble over this matter. Had you gone about your +business I would have waited. As it is—”</p> + +<p>It so happened that the guard, having nothing better to do, strolled +along the terraces by the same path that Mensmore and Bruce had +followed. The first sight that met his astonished eyes, when in the +flood of moonlight he discovered their identity, was the spectacle of +these two springing at each other like a pair of wild cats.</p> + +<p>“<i>Parbleu</i>,” he shouted, “the solitary ones are fighting!”</p> + +<p>He ran forward, drawing his short sword, ready to stick the weapon into +either of the combatants if the majesty of the law in his own person +were not at once respected.</p> + +<p>In reality, the affair was simple enough. Mensmore made an ineffectual +attempt to draw his revolver, and Bruce pinioned him before he could get +his hand up to his pocket. Both men were equally matched, and it was +difficult to say how the struggle might have ended had not the +sword-brandishing guard appeared on the scene.</p> + +<p>Claude, even in this excited situation, kept his senses. Mensmore, blind +with rage and the madness of one who would voluntarily plunge into the +Valley of the Shadow, took heed of naught save the effort to rid himself +of the restraining clutch.</p> + +<p>“Put away your sword. Seize his arms from behind. He is a suicide,” +shouted the barrister to the gesticulating and shrieking Frenchman.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, Bruce was an excellent linguist. The man <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>caught Mensmore’s +arms, put a knee in the small of his back, and doubled him backwards +with a force that nearly dislocated his spine. In the same instant +Claude secured the revolver, which he promptly pocketed.</p> + +<p>“It is well,” he said to the guard. “Here is a louis. Say nothing, but +leave us.”</p> + +<p>“Monsieur understands that the honor of a French policeman—”</p> + +<p>“I understand that if there is any report made of this affair to the +authorities you will be dismissed for negligence. Had this lunatic been +left to your care he would now have been lying here dead. Do you doubt +me?”</p> + +<p>The guard hesitated. “Monsieur mentioned a louis,” he said, for Bruce’s +finger and thumb had returned the coin to his waistcoat pocket.</p> + +<p>This transaction satisfactorily ended, Bruce accosted Mensmore, who was +awkwardly twisting himself to see if his backbone were all right.</p> + +<p>“You are not hurt, I hope?”</p> + +<p>“It is matterless. Why could you not let me finish the business in my +own way?”</p> + +<p>“Because the world has some use for a man like you. Because you are a +moral coward, and require support from a stronger nature. Because I did +not want to think of that girl crying her eyes out to-morrow when she +read of your death, or heard of it, as she assuredly would have done.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore, though still furious at his fellow-countryman’s interference, +was visibly amazed at this final reference.</p> + +<p>“What do you know about her?” he cried.</p> + +<p>“Nothing, save what my eyes tell me.”</p> + +<p>“They seem to tell you a remarkable lot about my affairs.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p><p>“Possibly. Meanwhile I want you to give me your word of honor that you +will not make any further attempt on your life during the next seven +days.”</p> + +<p>“The word of honor of a disgraced man! Will you accept it?”</p> + +<p>“Most certainly.”</p> + +<p>“You are a queer chap, and no mistake. Very well, I give it. At the same +time, I cannot help dying of starvation. I lost my last cent to-night at +roulette. I am hopelessly involved in debts which I cannot pay. I have +no prospects and no friends. You are not doing me a kindness, my dear +fellow, in keeping me alive, even for seven days.”</p> + +<p>“You might have obtained your fare to London from the authorities of the +Casino?”</p> + +<p>“Hardly. I lost very little at roulette. I am not such a fool. My losses +are nearly all in bets over the pigeon-shooting match which I ought to +have won. I was backing myself at a game where I was apparently sure to +succeed.”</p> + +<p>“Until you were beaten by a woman’s voice.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, wizard. I am too dazed to wonder at you sufficiently. Yet I would +have lost fifty times for her sake, though it was for her sake that I +wanted to win.”</p> + +<p>“Come, let us smoke. Sit down, and tell me all about it.”</p> + +<p>They took the nearest seat, lighting cigarettes. The guard, watching +them from the shade of a huge palm-tree, murmured:</p> + +<p>“Holy Virgin, what madmen are these English! They move apart, unknown; +they fight; they fraternize; they consume tobacco—all within five +minutes.”</p> + +<p>And he lovingly felt for the louis to assure himself that he was not +dreaming.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p><p>“There is not much to tell,” said Mensmore, who had quite recovered his +self-control, and was now trying to sum up the man who had so curiously +entered his life at the moment when he had decided to do away with it. +“I came here, being a poor chap living mostly on my wits, to go in for +the pigeon-shooting tournaments. I won several, and was in fair funds. +Then I fell in love. The girl is rich, well-connected, and all that sort +of thing. She is the first good influence that has crossed my life, so I +thought that perhaps my luck was now going to turn. I backed myself for +all I was worth, and more, to win the championship. If it came off I +should have won over £3,000. As it is, I owe £500, which must be paid on +Monday. My total assets, after I settled my hotel bill and sent a cheque +to a chum who took some of my bets in his own name, was £16. Now I have +nothing. So you see—”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” interrupted Bruce, “it is a hard case. But death is no +settlement. Nobody gets paid, and everybody is worried.”</p> + +<p>“My dear fellow, my life is in your keeping for seven days. After that, +I presume, I take myself in charge again.”</p> + +<p>The barrister took thought for a while before he inquired:</p> + +<p>“Why did you go to the Casino to-night, if you did not patronize the +tables as a rule?”</p> + +<p>The other colored somewhat and laughed sarcastically.</p> + +<p>“Just a final bit of folly. I dreamt that my luck had turned.”</p> + +<p>“Dreamt?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, last night. Three times did I imagine that I was playing roulette, +and that after a certain number—whether <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>thirteen or twenty-three I was +uncertain—turned up, there was a run of seventeen on the red. The funny +thing is that I had an impression that the number was twenty-three, but +with a doubt that it might be thirteen. I remember, during a +sub-conscious state in the third dream, resolving to listen and look +more carefully to discover the exact number. But again things got +blurred. The only clear point was that the run of seventeen on the red +commenced at once.”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I took my remaining cash, went to the Casino, became a bit +impatient when neither number turned up for quite a while, and when +thirteen appeared I backed the red. But four times it was the black that +won.”</p> + +<p>“So I saw.”</p> + +<p>“Have you been keeping guard over me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, in a sort of way.”</p> + +<p>“You are a queer chap. I can’t help saying that I am obliged to you. But +it won’t do any good. I am absolutely dead broke.”</p> + +<p>“Now listen to me. I will pay your fare back to London and give you +something to live on until I return a week hence. Then you must come to +see me, and I will help you into some sort of situation. But you must +once and for all abandon this notion of suicide.”</p> + +<p>“What about my debts?”</p> + +<p>“Confound your debts. Tell people to wait until you are able to pay +them.”</p> + +<p>“And—and the girl?”</p> + +<p>“If she is worth having she will give you a chance of making a living +sufficient to enable you to marry her. She is of age, I suppose, and can +marry any one she likes.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p><p>Mensmore puffed his cigarette in silence for fully a minute. Then he +said:</p> + +<p>“You are a very decent sort, Mr.—”</p> + +<p>“Bruce—Claude Bruce is my name.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Bruce, you propose to hand me £10 for my railway fare, and, +say, £5 for my existence, until we meet again in London, in exchange for +which you purchase the rights in my life indefinitely, accidents and +reasonable wear and tear excepted.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly!”</p> + +<p>“Make it £20, with five louis down, and I accept.”</p> + +<p>“Why the stipulation?”</p> + +<p>“I want to back my dream. The number is twenty-three. It evidently was +not thirteen. I want to see that thing through. I will back the red +after twenty-three turns up, and if I lose I shall be quite satisfied.”</p> + +<p>“What if I refuse?”</p> + +<p>“Then I don’t care a bit what happens during the next seven days. After +that, <i>au revoir</i>, should we happen to meet across the divide. Please +make up your mind quickly. That run on the red may come and go while we +are sitting here.”</p> + +<p>Bruce opened his pocket-book. “Here,” he said with a smile, “I will give +you four hundred francs. You will reach the maximum more quickly if you +are right.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore’s face lit up with excitement. “By Jove, you are a brick,” he +said. “So you really trust me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then give me back my revolver.”</p> + +<p>Without a word, Bruce handed him the weapon.</p> + +<p>Mensmore extracted the cartridges and threw them into a clump of shrubs.</p> + +<p>“Come,” he cried; “come with me to the Casino. You <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>will see something. +This is not my own luck; it is borrowed. Come, quick!”</p> + +<p>They raced off, Bruce himself being more fired with the zest of the +thing than he cared to admit. Within the Casino all the tables were now +crowded, but Mensmore hurried to that at which he sat during his earlier +visit.</p> + +<p>“It was here that I played in my dream,” he whispered, “soon after I +came to it.”</p> + +<p>He edged through the onlookers, closely followed by Bruce. Neither cared +for the scowls and injured looks cast at them by the people whom they +forced out of the way.</p> + +<p>The Italian, the winner of half an hour ago, had come back like a moth +to the candle. Now he was getting his wings singed. At last, with a +groan, he hastily rose, but as a final effort flung the maximum, six +thousand francs, on the black.</p> + +<p>The disc whirled and slowly slackened pace, the ball rested in one of +the little squares, and the <i>croupier’s</i> monotonous words came:</p> + +<p>“<i>Vingt-trois</i>, <i>rouge</i>, <i>impair</i>, <i>et passe</i>!”</p> + +<p>Out bounced the Italian, and Mensmore seized his chair, turning to Bruce +with white face as he murmured:</p> + +<p>“You hear! Twenty-three!”</p> + +<p>The barrister nodded, and placed his hands on Mensmore’s shoulders as +though to steady him.</p> + +<p>Mensmore staked his ten louis on the red. They became twenty, then +forty. Another whirl and they were eighty. A fourth made them one +hundred and sixty.</p> + +<p>Mensmore was now so agitated that the table and the players swam before +his eyes. But Bruce, under the stress of exciting circumstances, had the +gift of remaining preternaturally cool.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p><p>At the fifth coup the sum to Mensmore’s credit was £256. He would have +left it all on the table had not Bruce withdrawn £16 in notes, as the +maximum is £240.</p> + +<p>When Mensmore won the sixth and seventh coups a buzz of animated +interest passed around the board. People began to note the run on the +red, together with the fact that a man was staking the maximum each +time. Even the <i>croupiers</i> cast fleeting glances at the new-comer, when, +several times in succession, the long rake pushed across the table the +little pile of money and notes.</p> + +<p>Thenceforth Mensmore sat in a state of stupor more pronounced now that +he was playing and awake than when he dreamt he was playing.</p> + +<p>Each time he mechanically staked the maximum and received back twice as +much, while the eager onlookers now burst into cries of wonder that +brought others running from all parts of the room.</p> + +<p>But Bruce did not lose count.</p> + +<p>When the red had turned up seventeen times, and the amount to Mensmore’s +credit was £3,128, he shook the latter violently as he was about to +shove forward another maximum, and, of his own volition, placed the +money on the black.</p> + +<p>“<i>Douze</i>, <i>noir</i>, <i>pair et manque</i>,” sang out the <i>croupier</i>, and Bruce +hissed into Mensmore’s ear:</p> + +<p>“Get up at once.”</p> + +<p>His strangely made acquaintance obeyed, gathered up his gold and notes, +fastened them securely in an inner pocket, and the pair quitted the +Casino amid extravagant protestations of good-will and friendship from +all the voluble foreigners present, having attracted not a little +attention from the less demonstrative Americans and English in the room.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p><p>It was some time before the roulette tables began their orderly round +again, for Mensmore’s sensational performance was in everybody’s mouth.</p> + +<p>The highest recorded sum is twenty-three on the black, but a run of +eighteen on the red is sufficiently remarkable to keep Monte Carlo in +talk for a week.</p> + +<p>Albert Mensmore certainly could not complain that the events of the +particular evening were dull. For one hour at least he lived in the fire +that consumes, for he stepped back from the porch of dishonored death to +find himself the possessor of a sum more than sufficient for his +reasonable requirements.</p> + +<p>The pace was rapid and almost fatal.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h3> + +<h2>SOME GOOD RESOLUTIONS</h2> + +<p>Once safe in the seclusion of Claude’s sitting-room Mensmore almost +collapsed. The strain had been a severe one, and now he had to pay the +penalty by way of reaction.</p> + +<p>The barrister forced him to swallow a stiff brandy and soda, and then +wished him to retire to rest, but the other protested with some show of +animation.</p> + +<p>“Let me talk, for goodness’ sake!” he cried. “I cannot be alone. You +have seen me through a lot of trouble to-night. Stick to me for another +hour, there’s a good fellow.”</p> + +<p>“With pleasure. Perhaps it is the best thing you can do, after all. Let +us see how much you have won.”</p> + +<p>Bruce made a calculation on a sheet of paper and said: “Exclusive of the +original stake of ten louis you ought to have £3,128.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore pulled out of his pocket the crumpled bundle of notes and +bills. Claude’s notes were among them, and he tossed them across the +table with a smile.</p> + +<p>“There’s your capital. I will see if the total is all right before we go +shares.”</p> + +<p>Claude nodded, and Mensmore began to jot down the items of his valuable +package. He bothered with the figures for some time but could not get +them right. Finally he tossed everything over to the other, saying:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p><p>“No matter how I count, I can’t get this calculation straight. Seventeen +coups, beginning with ten louis, work out at £3,128 all right enough. +But in this lot there is £3,368, and they don’t pay twice at the +Casino.”</p> + +<p>The barrister thought for a moment, and then laughed heartily. “I +remember now,” he said; “I kept careful count of the series of +seventeen, or eighteen, to be exact. On my own account, as you were too +dazed to notice anything, I put a maximum on the black. Your dream +turned up trumps, as the series stopped and black won. Hence the odd +£240.”</p> + +<p>“Then that is yours,” said the other gravely. “I will take £1,128 to +square all my debts, and we go shares in the balance, a thousand each, +if you think that fair. If not I will gladly hand over the lot, after +paying my debts, I mean.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore’s seriousness impressed the barrister more than any other +incident of that dramatic evening.</p> + +<p>“You forget,” he replied, “that I told you I had money in plenty for my +own needs. You must keep every farthing except my own £8, which you do +not now need. No. Please do not argue. I will consent to no other +course. This turn of Fortune’s wheel should provide you with sufficient +capital to branch out earnestly in your career, whatever it be. I will +ask my interest in different manner.”</p> + +<p>“I can never repay you, in gratitude, at any rate. And there is another +who will be thankful to you when she knows. Ask anything you like. Make +any stipulation you please. I agree to it.”</p> + +<p>“It is a bargain. Sign this.”</p> + +<p>Bruce took a sheet of notepaper, bearing the crest of the Hotel du +Cercle, dated it, and wrote:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p><div class="blockquot"><p>“I promise that, for the space of twelve months, I will not +make a bet of any sort, or gamble at any game of chance.”</p></div> + +<p>When Mensmore read the document his face fell a little. “Won’t you +except pigeon-shooting?” he said. “I am sure to beat that Russian next +time.”</p> + +<p>“I can allow no exceptions.”</p> + +<p>“But why limit me for twelve months?”</p> + +<p>“Because if in that time you do not gain sense enough to stop risking +your happiness, even your life, upon the turn of a card or the flight of +a bird, the sooner thereafter you shoot yourself the less trouble you +will bring upon those connected with you.”</p> + +<p>“You are a rum chap,” murmured Mensmore, “and you put matters pretty +straight, too. However, here goes. You don’t bar me from entering for +sweepstakes.”</p> + +<p>He signed the paper, and tossed it over to Bruce, while the latter did +not comment upon the limitation of his intentions imposed by Mensmore’s +final sentence. The man undoubtedly was a good shot, and during his +residence in the Riviera he might pick up some valuable prizes.</p> + +<p>“And now,” said the barrister, “may I ask as a friend to what use you +intend to put your newly found wealth?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that is simple enough. I have to pay £500 which I lost in bets over +that beastly unlucky match. Then I have a splendid ‘spec,’ into which I +will now be able to place about £2,000—a thing which I have good reason +to believe will bring me in at least ten thou’ within the year, and +there is nearly a thousand pounds to go on with. And all thanks to you.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind thanking me. I am only too glad to have taken such a part in +the affair. I will not forget this night as long as I live.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p><p>“Nor I. Just think of it. I might be lying in the gardens now, or in +some mortuary, with half my head blown off.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” said Bruce, between the contemplative puffs of a cigar, “what +induced you to think of suicide?”</p> + +<p>“It was a combination of circumstances,” replied the other. “You must +understand that I was somewhat worried about financial and family +matters when I came to Monte Carlo. It was not to gamble, in a sense, +that I remained here. I have loafed about the world a good deal, but I +may honestly say I never made a fool of myself at cards or backing +horses. At most kinds of sport I am fairly proficient, and in +pigeon-shooting, which goes on here extensively, I am undoubtedly an +expert. For instance, all this season I have kept myself in funds simply +by means of these competitions.”</p> + +<p>His hearer nodded approvingly.</p> + +<p>“Well, in the midst of my minor troubles, I must needs go and fall over +head and ears in love—a regular bad case. She is the first woman I ever +spoke two civil words to. We met at a picnic along the Corniche Road, +and she sat upon me so severely that I commenced to defend myself by +showing that I was not such a surly brute as I looked. By Jove, in a +week we were engaged.”</p> + +<p>The barrister indulged in a judicial frown.</p> + +<p>“No. It’s none of your silly, sentimental affairs in which people part +and meet months afterwards with polite inquiries after each other’s +health. I am not made that way; neither is Phil—Phyllis is her name, +you know. This is for life. I am just bound up in her, and she would go +through fire and water for me. But she is rich, the only daughter of a +Midland iron-master with tons of money. Her people are awfully nice, and +I think they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>approve of me, though they have no idea that Phil and I +are engaged.”</p> + +<p>He paused to gulp down a strong decoction of brandy and soda. The +difficult part of his story was coming.</p> + +<p>“You can quite believe,” he continued, “that I did not want to ask her +father, Sir William Browne—he was knighted by the late Queen for his +distinguished municipal services—to give his daughter to a chap who +hadn’t a cent. He supposes I am fairly well off, living as I do, and I +can’t bear acting under false pretences. I hate it like poison, though +in this world a man often has to do what he doesn’t like. However, this +time I determined to be straight and above board. It was a very odd +fact, but I just wanted £3000 to enable me to make a move which, I tell +you, ought to result in a very fair sum of money, sufficient, at any +rate, to render it a reasonable proposition for Phil and me to get +married.”</p> + +<p>Claude was an appreciative listener. These love stories of real life are +often so much more dramatic than the fictions of the novel or the stage.</p> + +<p>“The opportunity came, to my mind, in this big tournament. I had no +difficulty of getting odds in six or seven to one to far more than I was +able to pay if I lost. Phil came into the scheme with me—she knows all +about me, you know—and we both regarded it as a certainty. Then the +collapse came. She wanted to get the money from her mother to enable me +to pay up, but I would not hear of it. I pretended that I could raise +the wind some other way. The fact is I was wild with myself and with my +luck generally. Then there was the disgrace of failing to settle on +Monday, combined with the general excitement of that dream and a +fearfully disturbed night. To make a long story short, I thought the +best thing to do was to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>try a final plunge, and if it failed, to quit. +I even took steps to make Phil believe I was a bad lot, so that she +might not fret too much after me.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore’s voice was a little unsteady in this last sentence. The +barrister tried to cheer him by a little bit of raillery:</p> + +<p>“I hope you have not succeeded too well?” he laughed.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it is all right now. I mean that I left her some papers which would +bring things to her knowledge that, unexplained by me, would give any +one a completely false impression.”</p> + +<p>The subject was evidently a painful one, so Bruce did not pursue it.</p> + +<p>“About this speculation of yours,” he said. “Are you sure it’s all +right, and that you will not lose your money?”</p> + +<p>“It is as certain as any business can be. It is a matter I thoroughly +understand, but I will tell you all about it. If you will pardon me a +moment I will bring you the papers, as I should like to have your +advice, and it is early yet. You don’t want to go to bed, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>“Not for hours.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore rose, but before he reached the door a gentle tap heralded the +appearance of the hall-porter.</p> + +<p>“There is a letter for the gentleman. Monsieur is not in his room. He is +reported to be here, so I bring it.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore took the note, read it with a smile and a growing flush, and +handed it to the barrister, saying: “Under the circumstances I think you +ought to see this. Isn’t she a brick?”</p> + +<p>The tiny missive ran:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“<i>Dearest One</i>,—You must forgive me, but we are both so +miserable about that wretched money that I told <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>mother +everything. She likes you, and though she gave me a blowing up, +she has promised to give me £500 to-morrow. We can never thank +her sufficiently. Do come around and see me for a minute. I +will be in the verandah until eleven.</p> + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 3em;">“Ever yours,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-right: 1.5em;">“<span class="smcap">Phyllis</span>.”</span></p></div> + +<p>Claude returned the note.</p> + +<p>“Luck! you’re the luckiest fellow in the South of France!” he said. +“Why, here’s the mother plotting with the daughter on your behalf. Sir +William hasn’t the ghost of a chance. Off you go to that blessed +verandah.”</p> + +<p>When Mensmore had quitted the hotel Bruce descended to the bureau to +take up the threads of his neglected quest. The letter to Sydney H. +Corbett was still unclaimed, and he thought he was justified in +examining it. On the reverse of the envelope was the embossed stamp of +an electric-lighting company, so the contents were nothing more +important than a bill.</p> + +<p>An hour later Mensmore joined him in the billiard-room, radiant and +excited.</p> + +<p>“Great news,” he said. “I squared everything with Lady Browne. Told her +I was only chaffing Phil about the five hundred, because she spoiled my +aim by shrieking out. Sir William has chartered a steam yacht to go for +a three weeks’ cruise along the Gulf of Genoa and the Italian coast. +They have put him up to ask me in the morning to join the party. Great +Scott! what a night I’m having!”</p> + +<p>They parted soon afterwards, and next morning Bruce was informed that +his friend had gone out early, leaving word that he had been summoned to +breakfast at the Grand Hotel, where Sir William Browne was staying.</p> + +<p>During the afternoon Mensmore came to him like a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>whirlwind. “We’re off +to-day,” he said. “By the way, where shall I find you in London?”</p> + +<p>The barrister gave him his address, and Mensmore, handing him a card, +said, “My permanent address is given here, the Orleans Club, St. +James’s. But I will look you up first. I shall be in town early in +March. And you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I shall be home much sooner. Good-bye, and don’t let your good luck +spoil you.”</p> + +<p>“No fear! Wait until you know Phyllis. She would keep any fellow all +right once he got his chance, as I have done. Good-bye, and—and—God +bless you!”</p> + +<p>During the next three days Bruce devoted himself sedulously to the +search for Corbett. He inquired in every possible and impossible place, +but the man had utterly vanished.</p> + +<p>Nor did he come to claim his letter at the Hotel du Cercle. It remained +stuck on the baize-covered board until it was covered with dust, and the +clerk of the bureau had grown weary of watching people who scrutinized +the receptacle for their correspondence.</p> + +<p>Others came and asked for Corbett—sharp-featured men with imperials and +long moustaches—the interest taken in the man was great, but +unrequited. He never appeared.</p> + +<p>At last the season ended, the hotel was closed, and the mysterious +letter was shot into the dustbin.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h3> + +<h2>THEORIES</h2> + +<p>Bruce announced his departure from Monte Carlo by a telegram to his +valet.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, he did not expect to find that useful adjunct to his small +household—Smith and his wife comprised the barrister’s +<i>ménage</i>—standing on the platform at Charing Cross when the mail train +from the Continent steamed into the station.</p> + +<p>Smith, who had his doubts about this sudden trip to the Riviera, was +relieved when he saw his master was alone. “Sir Charles Dyke called this +afternoon, sir,” he explained. “I told Sir Charles about your wire, sir, +and he is very anxious that you should dine with him to-night. You can +dress at Portman Square, and if I come with you—”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I understand. Bundle everything into a four-wheeler.”</p> + +<p>“Sir Charles thought you might come, sir, so he sent his carriage.”</p> + +<p>London looked dull but familiar as they rolled across Leicester Square +and up Regent Street. Your true Cockney knows that he is out of his +latitude when the sky is blue overhead. Let him hear the tinkle of the +hansoms’ bells through a dim, fog-laden atmosphere, and he knows where +he is. There is but one London, and Cockneydom is the order of +Melchisedek. Claude’s heart was glad <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>within him to be home again, even +though the band was just gathering in the Casino gardens, and the lights +of Monaco were beginning to gleam over the moon-lit expanse of the +Mediterranean.</p> + +<p>At Wensley House the traveller was warmly welcomed by the baronet, who +seemed to have somewhat recovered his health and spirits.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, Bruce was distressed to note the ineffaceable signs of the +suffering Sir Charles Dyke had undergone since the disappearance of his +wife. He had aged quite ten years in appearance. Deep lines of sorrowful +thought had indented his brow, his face was thinner, his eyes had +acquired a wistful look; his air was that of a man whose theory of life +had been forcibly reversed.</p> + +<p>At first both men fought shy of the topic uppermost in their minds, but +the after-dinner cigar brought the question to Dyke’s lips:</p> + +<p>“And now, Claude, have you any further news concerning my +wife’s—death?”</p> + +<p>The barrister noted the struggle before the final word came. The husband +had, then, resigned all hope.</p> + +<p>“I have none,” he answered. “That is to say, I have nothing definite. I +promised to tell you everything I did, so I will keep my promise, but +you will, of course, differentiate between facts and theories?”</p> + +<p>The baronet nodded an agreement.</p> + +<p>“In the first place,” said Bruce, “let me ask you whether or not you +have seen Jane Harding, the missing maid?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. It seems that she called here twice before she caught me at home. +At first she was very angry about a squabble there had been between +Thompson and herself. I refused to listen to it. Then she told me how +you had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>found her at some theatre, and she volunteered an explanation +of her extraordinary behavior. She said that she had unexpectedly come +into a large sum of money, and that it had turned her head. She was +sorry for the trouble her actions had caused, so, under the +circumstances, I allowed her to take away certain clothes and other +belongings she had left here.”</p> + +<p>“Did she ask for these things?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Made quite a point of it.”</p> + +<p>“Did you see them?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“So you do not know whether they were of any value, or the usual +collection of rubbish found in servants’ boxes.”</p> + +<p>“I have not the slightest notion.”</p> + +<p>“Have they ever been thoroughly examined by any one?”</p> + +<p>“’Pon my honor, I believe not. Now that you remind me of it I think the +girl seemed rather anxious on that point. I remember my housekeeper +telling me that Harding had asked her if her clothes had been ransacked +by the detectives.”</p> + +<p>“And what did the housekeeper say?”</p> + +<p>“She will tell you herself. Let us have her up.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t trouble her. If I remember aright the police did not examine Jane +Harding’s room. They simply took your report and the statements of the +other servants, while the housekeeper was responsible for the partial +search made through the girl’s boxes for some clue that might lead to +her discovery.”</p> + +<p>“That is so.”</p> + +<p>The barrister smoked in silence for a few minutes, until Sir Charles +broke out rather querulously:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p><p>“I suppose I did wrong in letting Harding take her traps?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Bruce. “It is I who am to blame. There is something +underhanded about this young woman’s conduct. The story about the sudden +wealth is all bunkum, in one sense. That she did receive a bequest or +gift of a considerable sum cannot be doubted. That she at once decided +to go on the stage is obvious. But what is the usual course for a +servant to pursue in such cases? Would she not have sought first to +glorify herself in the sight of her fellow-servants, and even of her +employers? Would there not have been the display of a splendid +departure—in a hansom—with voluble directions to the driver, for the +benefit of the footman? As it was, Jane Harding acted suddenly, +precipitately, under the stress of some powerful emotion. I cannot help +believing that her departure from this house had some connection, +however remote, with Lady Dyke’s disappearance.”</p> + +<p>“Good heavens, Claude, you never told me this before.”</p> + +<p>“True, but when we last met I had not the pleasure of Miss Marie le +Marchant’s acquaintance. I wish to goodness I had rummaged her boxes +before she carried them off.”</p> + +<p>“And I sincerely echo your wish,” said Sir Charles testily. “It always +seems, somehow, that I am to blame.”</p> + +<p>“You must not take that view. I really wonder, Dyke, that you have not +closed up your town house and gone off to Scotland for the fag-end of +the shooting season. You won’t hunt, I know, but a quiet life on the +moors would bring you right away from associations which must have +bitter memories for you.”</p> + +<p>“I would have done so, but I cannot tear myself away <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>while there is the +slightest chance of the mystery attending my wife’s fate being +unravelled. I feel that I must remain here near you. You are the only +man who can solve the riddle, if it ever be solved. By the way, what of +Raleigh Mansions?”</p> + +<p>The baronet obviously nerved himself to ask the question. The reason was +patent. His wife’s inexplicable visit to that locality was in some way +connected with her fate, and the common-sense view was that some +intrigue lay hidden behind the impenetrable wall of ignorance that +shrouded her final movements.</p> + +<p>Bruce hesitated for a moment. Was there any need to bring Mrs. Hillmer’s +name into the business? At any rate, he could fully answer Sir Charles +without mentioning her at this juncture.</p> + +<p>“The only person in Raleigh Mansions who interests me just now is one +who, to use a convenient bull, is not there.”</p> + +<p>“Yes?”</p> + +<p>“This person occupies a flat in No. 12, his name is Sydney H. Corbett, +and he left his residence for the Riviera two days after your wife was +lost.”</p> + +<p>“Now, who on earth can <i>he</i> be? I am as sure as a man may be of anything +that no one of that name was in the remotest way connected with either +my wife or myself for the last—let me see—six years, at any rate.”</p> + +<p>“Possibly. But you cannot say that Lady Dyke may not have met him +previously?”</p> + +<p>The baronet winced at the allusion as though a whip had struck him. “For +heaven’s sake, Claude,” he cried, “do not harbor suspicions against her. +I cannot bear it. I tell you my whole soul revolts at the idea. I would +rather be suspected of having killed her myself than listen to a word +whispered against her good name.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p><p>“I sympathize with you, but you must not jump at me in that fashion. One +hypothesis is as wildly impossible as the other. I did not say that Lady +Dyke went to Raleigh Mansions on account of some present or bygone +transgression of her own. I would as soon think of my mother in such a +connection. But a pure, good woman will often do on behalf of others +what she will not do for herself. Really, Dyke, you must not be unjust +to me, especially when you force me to tell you what may prove to be +mere theories.”</p> + +<p>“Others? What others?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot say. I wish I could. If I once lay hold of the reason that +brought Lady Dyke to Raleigh Mansions, I will, within twenty-four hours, +tell you who murdered her. Of that I am as certain as that the sun will +rise to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>And the barrister poked the fire viciously to give vent to the annoyance +that his friend’s outburst had provoked.</p> + +<p>“Pardon me, Bruce. Do not forget how I have suffered—what I am +suffering—and try to bear with me. I never valued my wife while she +lived. It is only now that I feel the extent of my loss. If my own life +would only restore her to me for an instant I would cheerfully give it.”</p> + +<p>If ever man meant his words this man did. His agitation moved the kindly +hearted barrister to rise and place a gentle hand on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry, Dyke,” he said, “that the conversation has taken this turn. +These speculative guesses at potential clues distress you. If you took +my advice, you would not worry about events until at least something +tangible turns up.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it is best so,” murmured the other. “In any event, it is of +little consequence. I cannot live long.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p><p>“Oh, nonsense. You are good for another fifty years. Come, shake off +this absurd depression. You can do no good by it. I wish now I had taken +you with me to Monte Carlo. The fresh air would have braced you up while +I hunted for Corbett.”</p> + +<p>“Did you find him?”</p> + +<p>“No, but I dropped in for an adventure that would cheer the soul of any +depressed author searching vainly for an idea for a short story.”</p> + +<p>“What was it?”</p> + +<p>Claude, who possessed no mean skill as a <i>raconteur</i>, gave him the +history of the Casino incident, and the thrilling <i>dénouement</i> so +interested the baronet that he lit another cigar.</p> + +<p>“Did you ascertain the names of the parties?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Oh yes. You will respect their identity, as the sensational side of the +affair had better now be buried in oblivion, though, of course, all the +world knows about the way we scooped the bank. The lady is a daughter of +Sir William Browne, a worthy knight from Warwickshire, and her rather +rapid swain is a youngster named Mensmore.”</p> + +<p>“Mensmore!” shouted the baronet. “A youngster, you say?” and Sir Charles +bounced upright in his excitement.</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, a man of twenty-five. No more than twenty-eight, I can swear. +Do you know him?”</p> + +<p>“Albert Mensmore?”</p> + +<p>“That’s the man beyond doubt.”</p> + +<p>Dyke hastily poured out some whiskey and water and swallowed it. Then he +spoke, with a faint smile: “You didn’t know, Bruce,” he said, “that you +vividly described the attempted self-murder of a man I know intimately.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p><p>“What an extraordinary thing! Yet I never remember hearing you mention +his name.”</p> + +<p>“Probably not. I have hardly seen him since my marriage. We were +schoolboys together, though I was so much his senior that we did not +chum together until later, when we met a good deal on the turf. Then he +went off, roughing it in the States. It must be he. It is just one of +his pranks. And he is going to marry, eh? Is she a nice girl?”</p> + +<p>The baronet was thoroughly excited. He talked fast, and helped himself +liberally to stimulants.</p> + +<p>“Yes, unusually so. But I cannot help marvelling at this coincidence. It +has upset you.”</p> + +<p>“Not a bit. I was interested in your yarn, and naturally I was +unprepared for the startling fact that an old friend of mine filled the +chief part. What a fellow you are, Claude, for always turning up at the +right time. I have never been in a tight place personally, but if I were +I suppose you would come along and show me the way out. Sit down again +and give me all the details. I am full of curiosity.”</p> + +<p>Bruce had never before seen Sir Charles in such a hysterical mood. The +anguish of the past three months had changed the careless, jovial +baronet into a fretful, wayward being, who had lost control of his +emotions. Undoubtedly he required some powerful tonic. The barrister +resolved to see more of him in the future, and not to cease urging him +until he had started on a long sea voyage, or taken up some hobby that +would keep his mind from brooding upon the everlasting topic of his +wife’s strange death.</p> + +<p>Dyke’s fitful disposition manifested itself later. After he had listened +with keen attention to all that Bruce had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>told him concerning Mensmore +and Phyllis Browne, he suddenly swerved back to the one engrossing +thought.</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do about Corbett?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Find him.”</p> + +<p>“But how?”</p> + +<p>“People are always tied to a centre by a string, and no matter how long +the string may be, it contracts sooner or later. Corbett will turn up at +Raleigh Mansions, and before very many weeks have passed, if I mistake +not.”</p> + +<p>“And then?”</p> + +<p>“Then he will have to answer me a few pertinent questions.”</p> + +<p>“But suppose he knows nothing whatever about the business?”</p> + +<p>“In that case I must confess the clue is more tangled than ever.”</p> + +<p>“It would be curious if Corbett and Jane Harding were in any way +associated.”</p> + +<p>“If they were, it would take much to convince me that one or both could +not supply at least some important information bearing on my—on our +quest. If Mr. White even knew as much as I do about them he would arrest +them at sight.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he’s a thick-headed chap, is White. By the way, that reminds me. He +got hold of the maid, it seems, before she had bolted, and made her give +him some of my wife’s clothes. By that means he established some sort of +a theory about—”</p> + +<p>“About a matter on which we differ,” put in Bruce quietly. “Let us talk +of something else.”</p> + +<p>The other moved restlessly in his chair, but yielded. For the remainder +of the evening they discussed questions irrelevant to the course of this +narrative.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p><p>It was late when they separated, but Bruce found Smith sitting up for +him at home.</p> + +<p>That faithful servitor bustled about, stirring the fire and turning up +the lights. Finally he nervously addressed his master:</p> + +<p>“Pardon me, sir, but there was a policeman here asking about you +to-night, sir.”</p> + +<p>“A policeman!”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, a detective—Mr. White, of Scotland Yard. I knew him, sir, +though he did not think it. He came about ten o’clock, and asked where +you were.”</p> + +<p>“Did you tell him?”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir,” and Smith shifted from one foot to the other, “I thought it +best to let him know the truth, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Good gracious, Smith, he is not going to handcuff me. You did quite +right. What did he say?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing, sir; except that he would call again. He wouldn’t leave his +name, but I know’d him all right.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you. Good-night. It was unnecessary that you should have remained +up. But I am obliged to you all the same.”</p> + +<p>The barrister laughed as he went to his room. “Really,” he said to +himself, still highly amused, “White will cap all his previous feats by +trying to arrest me. I suspect he has thought of it for a long time.”</p> + +<p>And Mr. White <i>had</i> thought of it.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h3> + +<h2>WHO CORBETT WAS</h2> + +<p>“Inexorable Fate!” is a favorite phrase with the makers of books; but +Fate, being feminine according to the best authorities, is also somewhat +fickle in disposition. Not only is she not invariably inexorable, but at +times she delights to play with her poor subjects, to dazzle them with +surprise, as it were, to stupefy them with the sense of their sheer +inability to foresee or understand her vagaries.</p> + +<p>It was Bruce’s turn to receive the sharpest lesson in this respect that +he ever remembered.</p> + +<p>At breakfast the next morning he selected from a packet of unimportant +letters one which required immediate attention. The financiers to whom +he had written in conformity with his implied promise to Mr. Dodge had +replied favorably with reference to the reconstruction of the Springbok +Mine.</p> + +<p>They informed Bruce confidentially that a thoroughly reliable man in +Johannesburg, to whom they had cabled, reported very strongly in favor +of the property. They would await his written statement before finally +committing themselves. Meanwhile, if Messrs. Dodge, Son & Co. (Limited) +were anxious to get the business advanced a stage, there was no reason +why he (Bruce) should not assure them that, subject to the first +satisfactory report being confirmed, his clients would underwrite the +shares. The whole thing would thus go through in about three <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>weeks. As +for Bruce himself, they proposed to give him a commission of five per +cent in fully paid shares for the introduction.</p> + +<p>“Well, I never!” he laughed. “Now who would have thought such a thing +possible? Why, if that rascal Dodge is right and this company is really +a sound undertaking, my share of the deal will be £10,000. It seems +wildly incredible, yet my friends know what they are writing about as a +rule.”</p> + +<p>An hour later he was in the city.</p> + +<p>A smart brougham stood in front of the now thoroughly renovated offices +of Dodge, Son & Co. (Limited), and out of it, at the moment the +barrister detached himself from the chaos of Leadenhall Street, stepped +the head of the firm.</p> + +<p>He was making up the steps when Claude cried:</p> + +<p>“Hello, Mr. Dodge, how is the junior partner?”</p> + +<p>Dodge stopped, focussed Bruce with his sharp eyes, and smiled:</p> + +<p>“Oh, it is you, is it? The young ’un is all right, thanks. Are you +coming in?”</p> + +<p>“That was my intention.”</p> + +<p>“Come along then. I was hoping I would see you one of these days.”</p> + +<p>“Has business improved recently?” inquired Bruce, as they entered the +inner office.</p> + +<p>“Yes, somewhat; but money is very tight still. However, we generally +look for a spurt early in the New Year. Why do you ask?”</p> + +<p>“No valid reason. A mere hazard.”</p> + +<p>“Was it because you saw me drive up in a carriage?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Dodge, I never dreamt that self-consciousness was a failing of the +members of the Stock Exchange.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p><p>“Then that <i>was</i> the cause. I guessed it. I have been making inquiries +about you, Mr. Bruce, and there is no use in trying to fool you, not a +bit.”</p> + +<p>“Have you another Springbok proposition on hand?”</p> + +<p>“No; bar chaffing. You were the man who ferreted out the truth about +that West Australian combination when everybody else had failed. And, +now I think of it, you made me talk a lot the last time you were here. +However, I am ready. Fire away! I will tell you the truth, the whole +truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me—”</p> + +<p>“Sh-s-sh! Do not perjure yourself for the sake of alliteration. Besides, +it is I who have come to talk this time.”</p> + +<p>“About Springboks?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. The people I mentioned to you at my previous visit are prepared to +underwrite the shares, provided that their agent’s report is as +favorable in its entirety as a telegraphic summary leads them to +believe.”</p> + +<p>“Eh? That’s good news! When will they be in a position to complete?”</p> + +<p>“As soon as they hear from South Africa by post. Say three weeks.”</p> + +<p>“So long! But suppose I get an offer from some other quarter in the +meantime? I cannot keep the proposal open indefinitely.”</p> + +<p>“I have not asked you to do so, Mr. Dodge. Let me see—three shillings +per share on, say, two hundred thousand shares is £30,000. It is a good +deal of money. If any one likes to hand you a cheque for that amount +without preliminary investigation, take it by all means.”</p> + +<p>The notion tickled Dodge immensely.</p> + +<p>“All right, Mr. Bruce. When people of that sort turn <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>up we don’t sell +’em Springboks in the City. But there is no harm in you telling me your +clients’ names.”</p> + +<p>“Not in the least. They are the Anglo-African Finance Corporation.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Dodge whistled. “By Jove, they’re the best backing I could have. +This is a good turn, Mr. Bruce, and I shan’t forget it. You see, we’re a +young firm, and association with well-known houses is good for us in +every sense. I’m jolly glad now that Springboks are all right. It would +never have done for me to introduce them to a risky piece of business. I +am really much obliged to you. And now, how do we stand?”</p> + +<p>“Kindly explain.”</p> + +<p>“How much ‘com’ do you want?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Dodge moved his chair backward several feet in sheer amazement. +“Nothing, my dear sir! Nonsense! It is a big affair. Shall we say one +per cent in cash, or two in shares. I am not very well off just now, +or—”</p> + +<p>“Pray don’t trouble yourself. I have already secured my commission—five +per cent in fully paid shares.”</p> + +<p>“But the people who put up the money don’t pay for the privilege as a +rule.”</p> + +<p>“That I know quite well. This case is different. I am not, nor ever have +been, a financial go-between.”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you come to see me about the deal in the first instance?”</p> + +<p>It was Bruce’s turn to hesitate.</p> + +<p>“Not exactly,” he said. “I really wanted to know something about Mr. +Corbett, and the Springbok business arose out of it.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, that chap Corbett. I have been thinking about him. I wonder who he +can be? Anyhow, I owe him my <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>best wishes, as the mention of his name +has had such excellent results.”</p> + +<p>“Well, that is all,” said Bruce rising.</p> + +<p>“Yes, thanks. I must now see about raising the money to pay my own call. +I am interested in fifty thousand shares, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Then you require some £7,500?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. But that will be easy when I can say that the Anglo-African +Finance people are with me. Besides, this morning—queer you should call +immediately afterwards—I have had some wholly unexpected news.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed?” Mr. Dodge was in a talkative vein, and Bruce was in no hurry.</p> + +<p>“The very best!” went on Dodge gleefully. “You see, there is another man +in this affair with me. I thought he was as stony-broke as I am +myself—speaking confidentially, you know—when he suddenly writes to me +saying that he had won a pot of money at Monte Carlo and could spare me +£2,000. What’s the matter? Beastly trying weather, isn’t it? Try a nip +of brandy.”</p> + +<p>For once in his life the self-possessed barrister had blanched at a +sudden revelation. But this was too much. He felt as though a meteorite +had fallen on his head. Nevertheless, he grappled with the situation.</p> + +<p>“Ill! No!” he cried. “How stupid of me. I have forgotten my morning +smoke. May I light a cigar?”</p> + +<p>“With pleasure. You know these. Try one.”</p> + +<p>“You were saying—”</p> + +<p>“That’s all. This young fellow, Mensmore his name is, got mixed up with +me over a Californian mine. I thought he had lots of coin, so when +Springboks came along he and I went shares in underwriting them. The +public didn’t feed, so we were loaded. I tried all I knew <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>to get him to +pay up, but he absolutely couldn’t. And now at the very moment affairs +look promising he writes offering £2,000. More than that, he says, if +necessary, he can get the remainder of his half, £1750, from somebody. +Where is his letter?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Dodge looked on his table. “Oh, here it is. Addressed from ‘Yacht +<i>White Heather</i>,’ if you please. Quite swell, eh? Sir William Browne! +That’s the covey. I think I will let Sir William have ’em. It’s a good, +solid sort of name to have on the share register.”</p> + +<p>“I would if I were you,” said Bruce, hardly conscious of his +surroundings.</p> + +<p>“If <i>you</i> think so, I will. By Jove, this has been a good morning for +me. Come and have lunch.”</p> + +<p>“No, thanks. I have a lot to attend to. By the way, where did Mensmore +live?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. His address was always at the Orleans Club.”</p> + +<p>Somehow, Bruce reached the street and a hansom. As the vehicle rolled +off westward he crouched in a corner and tried to wrestle with the +problem that befogged his brain.</p> + +<p>Was Albert Mensmore Sydney H. Corbett? Was he Mrs. Hillmer’s brother? +The “Bertie” she had spoken of meant Albert as well as a hypothetical +Herbert. Mensmore was an old schoolfellow of Sir Charles Dyke’s. In all +probability he knew Lady Dyke as well. He lived in Raleigh Mansions +under an assumed name, and quitted his abode two days after the murder.</p> + +<p>Every circumstance pointed to the terrible assumption that at Mensmore’s +hands the unfortunate lady met her death. And Bruce had sworn to avenge +her memory!</p> + +<p>He laughed with savage mirth as he reflected that he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>himself had helped +this man to escape the punishment of Providence, self-inflicted. It was, +indeed, pitifully amusing to think how the clever detective had used his +powers to befool himself. The very openness of the clue had helped to +conceal it the more effectually. Were it not for Dodge and his +Springboks he might have gone on indefinitely covering up the criminal’s +tracks by his own friendly actions. The situation was maddening, +intolerable. Bruce wanted to seize the reins and flog the horse into a +mad gallop through the traffic as a relief to his feelings.</p> + +<p>Blissfully unconscious of the living volcano he carried within, the +cabby on the perch did not indulge in any such illegal antics. He +quietly drove along the Embankment and delivered his seething fare at +his Victoria-street chambers.</p> + +<p>Quite oblivious of commonplace affairs, the barrister threw a shilling +to the driver and darted out.</p> + +<p>The man gazed at his Majesty’s image with the air of one who had never +before seen such a coin. It might have been a Greek obolus, so utter was +his blank astonishment.</p> + +<p>But Bruce was across the pavement, and cabby had to find words, else it +would be too late.</p> + +<p>“Here guv’nor,” he yelled, “what the ballyhooley do you call this?”</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter?” was the impatient query.</p> + +<p>“Matter!” The cabman looked towards the sky to see if the heavens were +falling. “Matter!” in a higher key, as a crowd began to gather. “I tykes +him from Leaden’all Street to Victoria. ’E gives me a bob, an’ ’e arsks +me wot’s the matter. I’d been on the ranks four bloomin’ hours—”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p><p>“Oh, there you are!” and Bruce threw him half-a-crown before he +disappeared up the steps.</p> + +<p>Mr. White was watching for Bruce’s arrival. He wondered why the +barrister was so perturbed, and resolved to strike while the iron was +hot. So he, too, vanished into the interior.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h3> + +<h2>A QUESTION OF PRINCIPLE</h2> + +<p>“If any one calls, I am out,” cried Claude to his factotum, as he +crossed the entrance-hall of his well-appointed flat, and flung open the +door of his library.</p> + +<p>“The guv’nor’s in a tantrum,” observed Smith to his wife, and he settled +himself to renew the perusal of Grand National training reports. He had +just noticed the interesting fact that last year’s winner had “jumped in +for the last mile” in a gallop given to a rank outsider, when the +electric bell upset his calculations.</p> + +<p>“My master is out,” he said, as he opened the door to find Mr. White +standing on the mat.</p> + +<p>He was about to close the door again, but the detective planted his foot +against the jamb.</p> + +<p>“Your master is not out,” he answered. “I saw him come in a minute +since. Tell him Mr. White wants to see him.”</p> + +<p>Smith’s dignity was superb. “My master may be hin,” he cried, “but ’e +told me to say ’e was hout to callers.” The aspirates supplied emphasis.</p> + +<p>“Tell him what I say at once,” and Mr. White gave him his best +“accessory-after-the-crime” glance.</p> + +<p>“I don’t see why I should,” snarled Smith, but the squabble ended when +Bruce’s voice was heard—</p> + +<p>“Show him in, Smith, but admit nobody else.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p><p>With an air of armed neutrality Smith ushered the representative of +Scotland Yard into the library.</p> + +<p>“You’re not looking very well, sir,” said White, his round eyes fixed on +Bruce with all their power.</p> + +<p>“Was it to ask about my health that you came?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir, not exactly. But I haven’t seen you for quite a while, and as +we are both interested in the same matter I thought I would look you up +and compare notes.”</p> + +<p>Bruce was annoyed by the interruption. He wanted to think, not to be +bothered by official theories. He looked hard at Mr. White, wondering +whether he should tell him all he knew and wash his own hands clear of +the investigation in future. But there was a second picture before his +eyes. He saw Phyllis Browne’s face, not as it was that day at the Tir +aux Pigeons, but with the light of happiness in it, with the joyousness +of requited and undisturbed love, with the glow reflected from dancing +waves, and the tremulous smile of innocent pleasure.</p> + +<p>It was hard to believe that such a woman could place her heartfelt trust +in a man who was possibly a cold-blooded murderer. Such a combination +was unnatural and horrible. Already Bruce was beginning to doubt the +evidence of his analytical senses.</p> + +<p>Mr. White meanwhile flattered himself by the thought that the other was +trying to read his thoughts by looking at him fixedly.</p> + +<p>“I have been away from home,” said Bruce at last. “I had occasion to go +to the South of France.”</p> + +<p>“I thought so. I was sure of it. How do you manage always to get ahead +of us?” Mr. White was enthusiastic in his admiring divination.</p> + +<p>“You have heard about Sydney H. Corbett?” said the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>barrister, still +keeping that inscrutable, calculating gaze upon the policeman.</p> + +<p>“Yes. I am on his track. We may be slow, but we are sure in Scotland +Yard. May I ask what luck you have had, sir?”</p> + +<p>“In what respect?”</p> + +<p>“As if you didn’t go to Monte Carlo to find Corbett yourself! Really, +Mr. Bruce, the scent is too hot this time. You might as well give a +‘View halloa’ if you have seen him.”</p> + +<p>“Seen Sydney H. Corbett, you mean?”</p> + +<p>“That is the gentleman.”</p> + +<p>For an instant Mensmore’s future trembled in the balance. Bruce almost +framed the words which would have led to his immediate arrest at the +next port touched by the <i>White Heather</i>. But the memory of Phyllis +Browne, of her agony, of the fearful scandal that must fly through +Society on the Riviera, restrained him. There was no hurry. He must have +time to think.</p> + +<p>“I certainly went to Monte Carlo to discover the identity of that +interesting personage, but I came back, Mr. White, as wise as I went. +The only trace I found of him was an undelivered letter awaiting him at +the Hotel du Cercle.”</p> + +<p>“A letter! Wasn’t he there?” Mr. White’s face, notwithstanding its +official decorum, betrayed its disappointment. This was an unlooked-for +check.</p> + +<p>“He had been there. Other letters came for him earlier, and he had +received them.”</p> + +<p>“But the hotel people—”</p> + +<p>“Did not know him. In fact, there cannot be the slightest doubt that Mr. +Corbett concealed his identity at Monte Carlo under another name.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p><p>“It doesn’t matter much,” growled the detective. “We will nab him all +the same, if he had fifty names.”</p> + +<p>“Possibly. But it is wonderful how a man may be under your very nose, +and yet you may miss him.”</p> + +<p>During the next few minutes neither man spoke. Bruce smiled cynically at +the thought that he was actually shielding Lady Alice’s probable slayer +from the minions of the law. He marvelled at himself for his +irresolution. Nevertheless, he would wait. Mensmore could not escape him +now. Perhaps the business might be managed without the dramatic features +which would accompany an immediate arrest. And there were some things +that required explanation. If his Monte Carlo acquaintance really killed +Lady Dyke, then he was the strangest criminal whom Bruce had ever +encountered during the course of his varied career.</p> + +<p>The policeman misinterpreted his expression.</p> + +<p>“You can’t laugh at us this time, Mr. Bruce,” he cried. “Scotland Yard +and yourself evolved the same theory, eh? And we can’t fly off to the +South of France as readily as you.”</p> + +<p>“Your skill is profound, no doubt. Indeed, I wonder at it, considering +the mysterious way in which the missing man left his address at the +post-office.”</p> + +<p>The other reddened. “That was simple enough, I know; but we were on his +track before that.”</p> + +<p>“By watching me when I visited his sister.”</p> + +<p>“You saw me outside the Jollity Theatre, then?”</p> + +<p>“Of course. What did you expect?”</p> + +<p>Mr. White recovered his placidity. “There’s no use quarrelling about +it,” he laughed. “I did get that wrinkle from you. But how on earth were +we to know what to do, when there were seventy-one flats occupied by +respectable <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>people, and one closed for months, the caretaker told us.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you have ceased your surveillance so far as I am concerned.”</p> + +<p>“Honor bright, sir. I won’t do it again. Besides, we must lay hands on +Corbett sooner or later.”</p> + +<p>“What steps are you taking?”</p> + +<p>“The Monte Carlo police are making inquiries. They have his description. +It has also gone to America.”</p> + +<p>“Why America?”</p> + +<p>“Because he spent some time there. He only returned from the States +early last year. His sister has not seen him for years, and a rare old +row they had when he turned up. He had not much money, so she helped +him, and he settled down for a time in the same mansions as herself.”</p> + +<p>“Who told you all this?”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Hillmer, and a precious lot of trouble she gave me. She is a +clever woman that.”</p> + +<p>“It was rather too bad to pester her about it, poor lady.”</p> + +<p>“I only followed your lead, sir.”</p> + +<p>This was so true that Claude changed the conversation.</p> + +<p>“What sort of man is Corbett? Have you his description?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Here it is.” Mr. White produced a copy of the <i>Police Gazette</i>, a +publication never seen by the public, but of a large circulation among +the police of the United Kingdom. The details were fairly accurate as to +Mensmore’s personal appearance, but there was no photograph. Oddly +enough, Bruce was pleased on noting this serious deficiency.</p> + +<p>“You did not secure his picture?”</p> + +<p>“No. Mrs. Hillmer declared that she had not a single photograph of her +brother in her possession.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p><p>“Did she—tell you his real name?” the barrister had almost said, but he +deflected the question. “Did she give you any hint as to a possible +cause for this apparently unnecessary crime?”</p> + +<p>“Not a word.”</p> + +<p>“Then you did not mention Lady Dyke to her?”</p> + +<p>“No. Sir Charles has always implored me to keep his wife’s name out of +my inquiries until it became absolutely impossible to conceal it in view +of a public prosecution. He wants to know definitely when that time +comes.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>The detective did not reply for a moment. When he spoke he leaned +forward and subdued his voice. “I am as sure as I am sitting here, sir, +that Sir Charles will not live if any disgrace should come to be +attached to his wife’s memory.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean that he will kill himself?”</p> + +<p>“I do. He has changed a great deal since this affair happened. He is not +the same man. He appears to be always mooning about her. And people say +that they were not so devoted to one another when she was alive.”</p> + +<p>Again did the barrister switch off their talk from an unpleasant topic.</p> + +<p>“This description of Corbett is not much use,” he said. “It applies to +every athletic young Englishman of good physique and gentlemanly +appearance.”</p> + +<p>“Quite true. I don’t depend on that for his arrest, but it will be +valuable for identification. ‘Blue eyes, light brown hair, fresh, clear +complexion, well-modelled nose and chin.’ Some of these things can be +changed by tricks, but not all. For instance, there would be no use in +smoking a man with black eyes and irregular features.”</p> + +<p>“‘Smoking’ him?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p><p>“Oh, that’s our way of putting it. Following him, it means.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose the French police don’t succeed in catching him?”</p> + +<p>“We will get him at Raleigh Mansions. He is sure to think that Lady +Dyke’s fate has never been determined, and he will return when the +inquiry has blown over, to all appearance.”</p> + +<p>“You have quite made up your mind, then, that Sydney H. Corbett is the +murderer?”</p> + +<p>“It looks uncommonly like it. At any rate, he knows something about it. +If not, why did he bolt to France two days after the crime? Why has he +concealed his identity? Why does he take pains to receive his +correspondence in the manner he has adopted? And, by Jove! suppose he +isn’t in Monte Carlo at all, but in London all the time!”</p> + +<p>The inspector glowed with his sudden inspiration, but Bruce kept him to +the lower level of realities.</p> + +<p>“Corbett is, or was, in Monte Carlo. Of that you may be sure. He, and +none other, got the letters sent to the Hotel du Cercle. I cannot for +the life of me imagine why he did not take the last one. But let us look +at what we know. Lady Dyke, we will say, went to Corbett’s chambers, +secretly and of her own accord. That may be taken as fairly established. +Thence there is a blank in our intelligence until she appears as a +hardly recognizable corpse, stuffed by hands beneath an old drain-pipe +in the Thames at Putney. How do you fill up that gap, Mr. White?”</p> + +<p>“Simply enough. Corbett, or some other person, persuaded her to +voluntarily accompany him to Putney. She was killed there, and not in +London. It would be almost a matter of impossibility for any man to have +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>conveyed her lifeless body from Raleigh Mansions to Putney without +attracting some notice. One man could <i>not</i> do it. Several might, but it +is madness to imagine that a number of people would join together for +the purpose of killing this poor lady.”</p> + +<p>“The seemingly impossible is often accomplished.”</p> + +<p>“Do you really believe, then, that she met her death in London?”</p> + +<p>“I have quite an open mind on the question.”</p> + +<p>“You forget that she had resolved early that day to visit her sister at +Richmond, and Putney is on the direct road. What more reasonable than to +assume—”</p> + +<p>“Beware of assumptions! You are assuming all the time that Corbett was a +principal in her murder.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, Mr. Bruce. Then I ask you straight out if you don’t agree +with me?”</p> + +<p>“I do not.”</p> + +<p>This declaration astounded the barrister himself. Often the mere +utterance of one’s thoughts is a surprise. Speech seems to stiffen the +wavering outlines of reflection, and the new creation may differ +essentially from its embryo. It was so with Bruce in this instance.</p> + +<p>Ever since Mr. White’s arrival had aroused him from the positive stupor +caused by the stock-broker’s unwitting revelation, Claude Bruce had been +slowly but definitely deciding that Mensmore did not kill Lady Dyke. He +had seen him, unprepared, facing death as preferable to dishonor. At +such moments a man’s soul is laid bare. With the shadow of a crime upon +his conscience Mensmore’s actions could not have been so genuine and +straightforward as they undoubtedly were.</p> + +<p>Mensmore, of course, might in some way be bound up with the mystery +surrounding Lady Dyke’s movements. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>His very utterance in Bruce’s room +at the Hotel du Cercle implied as much. That was another matter. It +would receive his (Bruce’s) most earnest attention. But the major +hypothesis, so quickly jumped at by the police, needed much more +substantiation than it had yet obtained.</p> + +<p>That it was plausible was demonstrated by the barrister’s readiness to +adopt it at the outset. Even now that his impulse to fasten the crime on +Mensmore had weakened he wondered at his eagerness to defend him.</p> + +<p>The detective was even more surprised.</p> + +<p>“I don’t see how you can take that view,” he cried. “Corbett’s behavior +is, to say the least, unaccountable. If he is an innocent man, then he +must be a foolish one. Besides, why should he necessarily be innocent? +This is the first gleam of light we have had in a very dark business, +and I mean to follow it up.”</p> + +<p>The vindictive emphasis of his tone showed that the detective was +annoyed at the other’s impassive attitude. He even went so far as to +dimly evolve a theory that the barrister wished to throw him off +Corbett’s trail on account of his sympathy for Mrs. Hillmer, but Claude +rapidly dispelled this notion.</p> + +<p>“You are here, I suppose, to ask my advice in pursuance of our +understanding that we are working together in the matter, as it were?” +he said.</p> + +<p>“Well, something of the kind, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Then I recommend that we see the inside of that closed flat in Raleigh +Mansions at the earliest moment.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean by a search warrant?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not. Do you want the whole neighborhood to know of it? You +have probably heard of locks being picked before to-day. You and I, and +none other, must <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>have a quiet look around the place without anyone +being the wiser.”</p> + +<p>Mr. White hesitated, but the prospect was attractive. “I think I can +manage it,” he said, smiling reflectively. “Will six this evening suit?”</p> + +<p>“Admirably.”</p> + +<p>“Then I will call for you.”</p> + +<p>After a parting glance at Smith, who returned it, nose in air, the +inspector ran down the stairs, murmuring, “Blest if I can understand Mr. +Bruce. But this is a good move. We may learn something.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h3> + +<h2>NO 12 RALEIGH MANSIONS</h2> + +<p>When the door of Corbett’s or Mensmore’s flat swung open before the +skilful application of a skeleton key, a gust of cold air swept from the +interior blackness, and whirled an accumulation of dust down the stairs.</p> + +<p>It is curious how a disused house seems to bottle up, as it were, an +atmospheric accumulation which always seeks to escape at the first +available moment. Emptiness is more than a mere word; it has life and +the power of growth. A residence closed for a week is less depressing +than if it has not been inhabited for a month. If the period of neglect +be lengthened into a year, the sense of dreariness is magnified +immeasurably.</p> + +<p>In this instance, the mysterious abode might have been the abiding-place +of disembodied spirits, so cold was its aspect, so uninviting the dim +vista that sprung into uncertain vision under the flickering rays of a +wax vesta struck by the detectives.</p> + +<p>But neither the policeman nor his companion was a nervous subject.</p> + +<p>They entered at once, closed the door by its latch, and, aided by other +matches, found the switch of the electric light.</p> + +<p>In this brighter radiance the indefinable vanished. The flat became a +cosy, fairly well appointed bachelor’s <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>“diggings,” neglected and +untidy, yet not without a semblance of comfort, which only needed the +presence of a sturdy housemaid and a fire to be converted into the +ordinary chambers with which the locality abounds.</p> + +<p>Their first care was to draw down all the blinds, the neglect of which +housewifely proceeding argued the careless departure of a mere male when +the place was vacated.</p> + +<p>A rapid preliminary survey followed, and drew from Bruce the remark:</p> + +<p>“Furnished by a woman, but occupied by a man.”</p> + +<p>Mr. White agreed, but he didn’t know why, so he put a tentative question +on the point.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you see,” said Bruce, “that the carpets match the upholstery of +the furniture, that the beds have valances, that the spare bedroom for a +guest is even more elaborate than that used by the tenant, that care has +been taken in fitting up the kitchen, and taste displayed in the +selection of pieces of bric-a-brac? Only a woman attends to these +things. On the other hand, a card tray has been used as a receptacle for +a cigar ash, the pictures—no woman ever buys a picture—have been +picked up promiscuously from shops where they sell sporting prints, and +the sides of the mantelpieces are chipped by having feet propped against +them. There are plenty of other signs, but these suffice.”</p> + +<p>Thenceforth the two men devoted themselves to their task, each after his +kind.</p> + +<p>The representative of Scotland Yard hunted for documents, photographs, +torn envelopes; he looked at the covers of books to see if they were +inscribed; he opened every drawer, ransacked every corner, peered into +the interior of jars, pots, and ovens; appraised the value of furniture, +noted its age, and was specially zealous in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>studying the appearance of +the only bedroom which had been occupied so far as he could judge.</p> + +<p>Bruce, having given a casual glance around, entered the sitting-room, +selected the most comfortable chair, and proceeded to envelope himself +in smoke.</p> + +<p>He had not spent two minutes in Mensmore’s flat before he made a +striking discovery.</p> + +<p>The dwelling consisted of a central passage, dividing two equal portions +from the other. That on the right contained a drawing-room and a large +bedroom, with dressing-room attached. On the left were another bedroom, +a dining-room, a kitchen, and a store-room. At the end of the passage, +which terminated in the transverse corridor, were the bathroom, a +pantry, and a small room, empty now, but apparently designed for a +servant’s bedroom.</p> + +<p>The furniture, as has been stated, was good in quality and sufficient +for its purposes. But the fact which immediately impressed this skilled +observer was that the arrangement of the sitting-room differed +essentially from the other details of the flat.</p> + +<p>The same care had not been taken in the disposition of the articles. +They had been dumped down anyhow, without taste or regard for suitable +position. The carpet had not been bought for this special apartment like +the carpets elsewhere. A handsome ebony cabinet stood in the wrong +place. The blue china ornaments obviously intended to fill its shelves +were littered about the mantelpiece or on small tables, while the +Satsuma ware meant for the over-mantel was stiffly disposed on the +cabinet.</p> + +<p>Small matters these, but Bruce thought them more fruitful of accurate +theory than the detective’s hunt for a written history of the crime!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p><p>So, as he smoked, he mused and examined.</p> + +<p>“The drawing-room was the last place to be furnished,” he thought. “The +usual course. It remained empty for some time probably. The rest of the +flat was arranged by a woman—Mrs. Hillmer in all likelihood—before the +arrival of her brother. Then he came and tackled the vacant room. The +history of the place is as plain as though I were present. More than +that, a woman—Mrs. Hillmer again, let us say—fixed upon these latter +purchases, but without measurements. She did not personally see to their +adaptability, and she certainly did not supervise their final +arrangement. Now, why was that? Again, these things are more worn than +those in the other rooms. Were they bought second-hand? If so, why? A +woman thinks most of her drawing-room. It is the last place in which she +would economize.”</p> + +<p>Mr. White entered, anxious and puzzled.</p> + +<p>“Found anything?” inquired Claude, without looking at him.</p> + +<p>“Not a rag, not a piece of old newspaper with a date on it. A lot of +papers were burned in the kitchen grate, but from the remnants I judge +that they were mostly bills.”</p> + +<p>“The place has been systematically cleared, eh?”</p> + +<p>“It looks like it.”</p> + +<p>“Going to hunt here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. You don’t seem to take much interest in the premises, Mr. Bruce, +though you persuaded me to do a bit of house-breaking in order to get +here.”</p> + +<p>“I find the quietude good for thought, Mr. White. Be good enough not to +make more noise than is absolutely necessary.”</p> + +<p>The other sniffed. He was disappointed. He hoped <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>for something tangible +from this visit, and the outlook was far from promising.</p> + +<p>“This room appears to have been lived in a good deal,” he growled.</p> + +<p>“That is one way of looking at it.”</p> + +<p>“Is there any other way?” His voice snapped out the question as if he +held the barrister personally responsible for his failure to gain a +clue.</p> + +<p>“No, Mr. White, I should have guessed your point of view exactly.”</p> + +<p>“My point of view, indeed! Do you want me to draw up another chair and +light a pipe? Should we be enlightened by tobacco smoke?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot trust your tobacco. Try a cigar.”</p> + +<p>The detective angrily thumped a Chesterfield lounge to see if it +betrayed aught suspicious.</p> + +<p>At that instant Bruce’s glance rested on the fireplace. The grate +contained the ashes of a fire,—a fire not long lighted. This, combined +with the undrawn blinds, argued a departure early in the morning.</p> + +<p>“He went to Monte Carlo by the day Channel service,” mused Bruce. “He +may have departed a few hours after Lady Dyke’s death, as Mrs. Hillmer +was not certain as to the exact date.”</p> + +<p>Somehow the few cinders attracted him. They had, perchance, witnessed a +tragedy.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he stopped smoking. He was so startled by something he had seen +that the policeman must have noticed his agitation were not the +detective at that instant intently screwing his eyes to peer behind the +back of the elaborate cabinet.</p> + +<p>On the hearth was a handsome Venetian fender. Into each end was loosely +socketed a beautifully moulded piece <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>of ironwork to hold the +fire-irons. That on the left was whole, but from that on the right a +small spike had been broken off.</p> + +<p>By comparison with its fellow the missing portion was identical with the +bit of iron found imbedded in the skull of the murdered woman. Of this +damning fact Bruce had no manner of doubt, though the incriminatory +article itself was then locked in a drawer in his own residence.</p> + +<p>He did not move. He sat as one transfixed.</p> + +<p>What a weapon for such a deed! Was ever more outlandish instrument used +with murderous intent? The entire bracket could easily be detached from +the fender, and would, no doubt, inflict a terrible blow. But why seize +this clumsy device when it actually supported a heavy brass poker?</p> + +<p>The thing savored of madness, of the wild vagary of a homicidal maniac. +It was incomprehensible, strange beyond belief.</p> + +<p>Yet as Bruce pictured the final scene in that tragedy, as he saw the +ill-fated lady stagger helplessly to the ground before a treacherous and +crushing stroke, a fierce light leaped into his face, and his lips set +tight with unflinching purpose.</p> + +<p>Had Mensmore been within reach at that moment he would assuredly have +been lodged in a felon’s cell forthwith. No excuse, no palliation, would +be accepted. The man who could so foully slay a gentle, kindly, +high-minded woman deserved the utmost rigor of the law, no matter what +the circumstances that led to the commission of the crime.</p> + +<p>It was not often that Bruce allowed impulse to master reason so utterly.</p> + +<p>In strange altruistic mood he asked himself why he did <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>not spring from +his chair, and, tearing the bracket from its supports, exhibit it to his +fellow-worker, while he gave, in a few passionate sentences, the +information that would set the French police to scour the Mediterranean +littoral until they found the <i>White Heather</i>. Of what matter to him was +the suffering of a sister or sweetheart? Did the man who killed Lady +Dyke reck of these things? Yes, he would do it—</p> + +<p>But a cry of triumph from the detective arrested the fateful words even +as they trembled on his lips. “Here’s a find!” was the shout. “Thinking +is all very well, Mr. Bruce, but hard work is better. What do you make +of that?”</p> + +<p>“That” was a letter, which, in the manner known to many a puzzled +householder, had slipped down behind a drawer in the cabinet, to be +crushed against the wardrobe at the back, and lie there forgotten and +unnoticed.</p> + +<p>Even in his perturbed state the barrister could not help glancing at the +crumpled document, first noting the date, October 15th of the year just +closed, with the superscription, “Mountain Butts, Wyoming.” There was no +envelope.</p> + +<p>It was addressed to “Dear Bertie,” and ran as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Your welcome note and its draft for fifty dollars came to hand +last week. My sisters and I can never forget your generosity. +We know you are hard up, and that you can ill spare these +frequent gifts, or loans, as you are pleased to call them. You +and I have been in many a tight place, old chap, and I never +knew you to fail either with hand or heart. And when we drifted +into this ranch, on my advice, and nearly starved to death, it +was you who were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>bold enough to cut yourself adrift so that +you might make something to keep the pot boiling.</p> + +<p>“But the tide is turning. You know my failing; this time I will +try not to be too sanguine. There have been big gold +discoveries in this country. It is now firmly believed that all +our land is auriferous, and the scoundrel who sold us this +beggarly ranch has tried to upset our title. Thanks to your +foresight, he was knocked out at the first round. So I may soon +have big news for you. By Jove, won’t it be a change if we both +become rich! And won’t we all have a time in Paris! However, I +must not promise too much. I have been taught caution by +repeated failures. Write by return, and say if this reaches you +all right.</p> + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 4em;">“Your faithful friend,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-right: 1.5em;">“<span class="smcap">Sydney H. Corbett</span>.”</span></p></div> + +<p>“What do you think of that?” cried the detective, when Bruce had slowly +mastered the contents of the letter.</p> + +<p>“Think! I am too dazed to think.”</p> + +<p>“We can now learn all about him from America.”</p> + +<p>“About whom?”</p> + +<p>“About Corbett, of course.”</p> + +<p>“Then did Corbett travel by the same mail as this letter in order to +murder Lady Dyke? It is dated October 15th, and she was killed November +6th. It takes twelve days, at the quickest, for a letter to come here +from Wyoming. And Corbett, the writer of it, not the receiver, must have +travelled in the same steamer, or its immediate successor.”</p> + +<p>Mr. White’s face fell, but he stuck to his point:</p> + +<p>“Anyhow, Corbett was here about that time. I have seen the secretary to +the company that owns these flats. Corbett took the rooms for six months +from September <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>first. When asked for references he gave his sister’s +name, and as she banks with the National—and she has always paid her +rent for five years—it was good enough. Still, I must confess that +Corbett could hardly be in Wyoming in October if he lived here in +September and in November.”</p> + +<p>The barrister answered between his set teeth: “Yes, it is rather +puzzling.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps the letter was left there as a plant.”</p> + +<p>“An elaborate one. It must have been conceived a month before the +murder.”</p> + +<p>“But suppose it never came from Wyoming. We have no proof that it was +written in America.”</p> + +<p>“We have proof of nothing at present.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Bruce, have you a theory? This is the place where you ought +to shine, you know.”</p> + +<p>“I have no theory. I must think for hours, for days, before I see my way +clear.”</p> + +<p>“Clear to what, sir.”</p> + +<p>“To telling you how, when, and where to arrest the murderer of Lady +Dyke.”</p> + +<p>“So this find of mine is of great importance?”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly. I remember its contents sufficiently, but you will let me +see it again if necessary?”</p> + +<p>“With pleasure, sir. And that reminds me. You never returned that small +bit of iron to me. You recollect I lent it to you some time since.”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly. Come with me. I will model it in wax and give it to you.”</p> + +<p>“All right, sir; but as we are here I may as well continue my search. I +may drop on something else of value.”</p> + +<p>Bruce resumed his seat, and did not stir until the detective had +completely rummaged the cabinet. The reading of that queer epistle from +Corbett to “Bertie”—from <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>the real Simon Pure to the sham one—from one +man to his double—had stopped him at the very threshold of disclosure.</p> + +<p>The document impressed him as being genuine. If so, who on earth was +Corbett, and why had Mensmore taken his name, if that was the solution +of the tangle?</p> + +<p>Whatever the explanation, he would not jump to a conclusion. The web had +closed too securely round Mensmore to allow of escape. Hence, Bruce +could bide his time. Another week might solve many elements in the case +now indistinct and nebulous. He would wait.</p> + +<p>The detective finally satisfied himself there was nothing else in the +cabinet. He approached the fireplace, peered into every vase on the +over-mantel, picked with his penknife at the back of the frame to feel +for other letters, and in doing so several times kicked the fender.</p> + +<p>The barrister vaguely wondered whether the man of method would note the +missing portion of the iron “dog.”</p> + +<p>“Surely,” he thought, “he will see it now,” as Mr. White bent to examine +the ashes, and actually took the poker from the very support itself in +order to rake among the cinders.</p> + +<p>The other even scrutinized the fire-irons, but the too obvious fact +that, so to speak, stared him in the face, escaped notice. He was quite +wrapped up in his theory that Lady Dyke had been killed at Putney, and +not in Sloane Square.</p> + +<p>At last he quitted the room, and walked off to the small apartments at +the end of the main corridor.</p> + +<p>Instantly Bruce sprang forward, fell on his knees, and intently examined +the iron rest with a strong lens. It bore no unusual signs in the +locality of the break. Taking <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>some wax from his pocket, he took a +slight impression of the fracture.</p> + +<p>When Mr. White returned, he found the barrister sitting in his chair, +still smoking, and with set face and fixed eyes.</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards they quitted the flat, carefully leaving all things as +they found them. They said little on their way to Victoria Street, for +Bruce was trying to explain Mensmore’s attitude at Monte Carlo, and the +detective was considering the best use to which he could put that +all-important letter.</p> + +<p>Besides, Mr. White attributed his companion’s silence to annoyance. Had +not he, White, laid hands on the only direct piece of evidence yet +discovered as to Corbett’s identity, and this in defiance of Bruce’s +spoken philosophy? He could afford to be generous and not to worry his +amateur colleague with questions.</p> + +<p>Thus they reached the barrister’s chambers. Bruce asked the other to sit +down for a moment while he obtained a model of the small lump of iron. +He took it into his bedroom, fitted in into the wax impression obtained +at Raleigh Mansions, and noted that the two coincided perfectly.</p> + +<p>He handed the bit of iron to White without comment.</p> + +<p>The latter said: “It had better remain in my keeping now, sir, but if +you want to see it again, of course I will be glad—”</p> + +<p>“I shall never want it again,” said Bruce, and his voice was harsh and +cold, for he had seldom experienced such a strain as the last hours had +given him. “It is an accursed thing. It has caused one death already, +and may cause others.”</p> + +<p>“I sincerely hope it will cause a man to be hanged,” cried the +detective, “for this affair is the warmest I have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>ever tackled. +However, I’ll get him, as sure as his name’s Corbett, if he has forty +aliases and as many addresses.”</p> + +<p>Smith let Mr. White out. The latter, halting for a moment at the door, +said quietly, “Is your name Corbett?”</p> + +<p>“No, it ain’t, any more than yours is Black. See?”</p> + +<p>Each man thought he had had his joke, so they were better friends +thenceforth, but Mr. White was thoughtful as he passed into the street.</p> + +<p>“This is a funny business,” he communed. “There isn’t enough evidence +against Corbett to hang a cat, yet I <i>think</i> he’s the man. And Bruce is +a queer chap. Was he cut up about me finding the letter, or has he got +some notion in his head. He’s as close as an oyster. I wonder if he +<i>did</i> dine at Hampstead on the evening of the murder, as he said at the +inquest? I must inquire into it.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h3> + +<h2>MRS. HILLMER HESITATES</h2> + +<p>“I wonder if I shall have such exciting times to-day as I had +yesterday,” said Bruce to himself, as he unfolded his <i>Times</i> next +morning at breakfast.</p> + +<p>Affairs had so jumbled themselves together in his brain the previous +evening that he had abandoned all effort to elucidate them. He retired +to rest earlier than usual, to sleep soundly, save for a vivid dream in +which he was being tried for his life, the chief witnesses against him +being Mrs. Hillmer, Phyllis Browne, and Jane Harding, the latter varying +her evidence by entertaining the Court with a song and dance.</p> + +<p>The weather, too, had improved. It was clear, frosty, and sunlit—one of +those delightful days of winter that serve as cheerful remembrances +during periods of seemingly interminable fog overhead and slush beneath.</p> + +<p>During a quiet meal he read the news, and, with the invaluable morning +smoke, settled himself cosily into an armchair to consider procedure.</p> + +<p>In the first place he carefully weighed those utterances of Mensmore at +Monte Carlo, which he could recall, and which seemed by the light of +later knowledge, to bear upon the case.</p> + +<p>Mensmore had alluded to “family troubles,” to “worries,” and +“anxieties,” that practically drove him from England.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p><p>Some of these, no doubt, referred to the Springbok speculation. Others, +again, might have meant Mrs. Hillmer or some other presently unknown +relative. But in Mensmore’s manner there was nothing that savored of a +greater secrecy than the natural reticence of a gentleman in discussing +domestic affairs with a stranger.</p> + +<p>This man had practically been snatched from death. At such a moment it +was inconceivable that he could cloak the remorse of a murderer by the +simulation of more honorable motives, in themselves sufficiently +distressing to cause him deliberately to choose suicide as the best way +of ending his difficulties.</p> + +<p>The policeman had summarized the testimony against Corbett as +insufficient to curtail the remarkable powers of endurance of a cat. But +to Bruce the case against Mensmore, alias Corbett, stood in clearer +perspective. Now that he calmly reasoned the matter he felt that the +balance of probabilities swung away from the hypothesis that Mensmore +was the actual slayer of Lady Dyke, and towards the theory that he was +in some way bound up with her death, whether knowingly or unknowingly it +was at present impossible to say.</p> + +<p>The new terror to Bruce was Mr. White.</p> + +<p>“Why, if that animated truncheon knew what I know of this business he +would arrest Mensmore forthwith. If he did, what would result? A +scandal, a thorough exposure, possibly the ruin of Mensmore’s +love-making if he be an innocent man. That must be stopped. But how, +without forewarning Mensmore himself?—and he may be guilty. Chance may +favor White, as it favored me, in disclosing the identity of the missing +Corbett. And what of the <i>real</i> Corbett? What on earth has <i>he</i> got to +do with it, and why has Mensmore taken his name? <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>If ever I get to the +bottom of this business I may well congratulate myself. The sole result +of all my labor thus far may be summed up in a sentence—I have not yet +come face to face with the man whom I can honestly suspect as Lady +Dyke’s murderer. Not much, my boy!”</p> + +<p>Claude uttered the last sentence aloud, startling Smith, who was +clearing the table.</p> + +<p>“Beg pardon, sir,” cried Smith.</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing. I was only expressing an opinion.”</p> + +<p>“I thought, perhaps, sir, you was thinkin’ of Mr. White.”</p> + +<p>“What of him?”</p> + +<p>“Your remark, sir, hexactly hexpresses my hopinion of ’im.”</p> + +<p>Smith was not a badly educated man, but the least excitement produced an +appalling derangement of the letter “h” in his vocabulary.</p> + +<p>“Mr. White is a sharp fellow in his own way, Smith.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe, but why should ’e come pokin’ round ’ere pryin’ into your little +affairs-deecur?”</p> + +<p>“My what?”</p> + +<p>“Sorry, sir, but that’s what a French maid I once knew called ’em. +Flirtations, sir. Mashes.”</p> + +<p>“Smith, have you been drinking?”</p> + +<p>“Me, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Well, explain yourself. I never flirted with a woman in my life.”</p> + +<p>“That’s what I told ’im, sir. ‘My master’s a regular saint,’ says I, ‘a +sort of middle-aged ankyrite.’ But Mr. White ’e wouldn’t ’ave it at no +price. ‘Come now, Smith,’ says ’e, ‘your guv’nor’s pretty deep. ’E’s a +toff, ’e is, an’ knows lots of lydies—titled lydies.’ ‘Very like,’ says +I, ‘but ’e doesn’t mash ’em.’ ‘Then what price that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>lydy who called for +’im in a keb afore ’e went away? An’ who’s ’e gone to Monte Carlo with?’ +This was durin’ your absence, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Go on, Smith. Anything else?”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, that rather flung me out of my stride, as the sayin’ is, as +I <i>’ad</i> seen the lydy in question. An’ Mr. White ’as a nasty way of +putting you on your oath, so to speak. But I never owned up.”</p> + +<p>Claude laughed.</p> + +<p>“Excellent. Mr. White has a keen nose for false scents. I have already +told him to let my affairs alone. He means no harm.”</p> + +<p>But the reference to a “lydy in a keb” had suggested an immediate plan +of action to the barrister. He would call to see Mrs. Hillmer. He wrote +a note asking her if he might come to tea that afternoon, and sent it by +a boy messenger.</p> + +<p>In return he received this answer.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Mrs. Hillmer will be at home at four o’clock if Mr. Bruce cares to call +then.”</p></div> + +<p>“Whew!” he whistled. “What’s in the wind there? This is an uncommonly +stiff invitation. That rascal White has upset her, I’ll be bound. I +<i>must</i> choke him off somehow. Suppose he were to find that damaged +bracket! He would have Mensmore under trial at the Old Bailey in +double-quick time. After I leave Mrs. Hillmer I must visit No. 12 again, +and carry off that pair of brackets before White discovers them, as he +will haunt the place in future.”</p> + +<p>Bruce had a set of skeleton keys in his possession.</p> + +<p>They were in his pocket when he approached Raleigh Mansions at the +appointed hour.</p> + +<p>The same trim maid opened the door for him and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>ushered him into the +drawing-room. On the occasion of his first visit he was taken to the +dining-room. It was a small matter, but Bruce paid heed to such.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer appeared, very stately and undemonstrative. She greeted him +coldly, seated herself at a distance, and said, in a cold, +well-controlled voice:</p> + +<p>“I did not expect the honor of another visit from you, Mr. Bruce.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?”</p> + +<p>There was a fight brewing, and he would let the enemy open fire. The +glitter in her eyes showed that the batteries were ready to be unmasked. +He was not mistaken.</p> + +<p>“Why not? Because I believed you to be a gentleman. Once you had stooped +to sending your myrmidons to pester me I imagined that you would keep +yourself in the background.”</p> + +<p>There was an indignant ring in her words as she concluded. When a woman +is angry her own speech acts as a trumpet-call and fires her blood. Mrs. +Hillmer began, as she intended, in icy disdain. She ended in tremulous +anger.</p> + +<p>“You allude to Mr. White?” said the barrister, looking steadily at her.</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is the man. Some hireling from Scotland Yard. How <i>could</i> you +so meanly induce my confidence at our first meeting? I have never been +so deceived in a man in my life, and I have had a surfeit of bitter +experience already.”</p> + +<p>“Brother and sister are alike. They have led queer lives,” mused Bruce. +Aloud he said:</p> + +<p>“Your experience, Mrs. Hillmer, should at least lead you not to condemn +any one unheard. May I explain <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>that which is to you incomprehensible at +this moment?—justly so, I admit.”</p> + +<p>“Explanations! I am a child in the hands of such as you. How can I hope +to fathom your real intent? Presumably, if I accept your apologies now, +it will be a prelude to further visits by impudent police officers.”</p> + +<p>“I am not here to apologize, Mrs. Hillmer.”</p> + +<p>“What then, pray?”</p> + +<p>“To plead with you. For Heaven’s sake do not distrust <i>me</i>. It may ruin +those whom you hold dear. Listen to me first, and try to believe me +afterwards.”</p> + +<p>He was so thoroughly in earnest, so impressive in manner, that she did +not know what to make of him. In her despair, she adopted a woman’s +chief resource—her eyes filled with tears.</p> + +<p>But he anticipated her.</p> + +<p>“Now, Mrs. Hillmer,” he cried, “let us act like sensible people. Compose +yourself, order in some tea, and after an interlude I will tell you all +about it. Candor is an indispensable element of confidence.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer rose, made an effort to choke back her agitation, went out, +and called to the maid for tea. She returned in a few moments. When they +were alone Bruce said, with a smile:</p> + +<p>“A little <i>poudre de ris</i> is an excellent corrective for signs of +grief.”</p> + +<p>The lady blushed, and there was a perceptible return to her former +pleasant manner.</p> + +<p>“You are incorrigible, I fear,” she cried.</p> + +<p>“Not a bit. Impressionable, rather. Now, I am going to startle you +considerably, so be prepared. And do not jump at conclusions. Though +startling, my news is not alarming. All may yet end well.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p><p>Mrs. Hillmer was manifestly anxious, but she promised to try to +understand him fully before she formed any judgment.</p> + +<p>“Then,” said he, “I can clear the air a good deal by a simple statement. +Mr. White is no agent of mine, and I have seen your brother, Albert +Mensmore, at Monte Carlo.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer gave a little gasp of surprise. “You have seen Bertie?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; your brother, is he not?”</p> + +<p>“My half-brother, to be exact. My father was married twice. I—I am the +elder of the two by four years.”</p> + +<p>“Apart from the compliment, you do not look it. But what you say +explains the total absence of likeness between you.”</p> + +<p>“Possibly. People said we each resembled our mother. And Bertie, you +know, has led a somewhat adventurous career. He roughed it a good deal +in America. But what has all this got to do with detectives, and recent +inquiries, and that sort of thing?”</p> + +<p>“Much. The last time we met I told you that your brother was mixed up in +some little affair with a lady.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer laughed, a trifle constrainedly. “If you knew Bertie as +well as I do, you would not harbor suspicions concerning him. He never +had a love affair in his life. Indeed, he is something of a +woman-hater.”</p> + +<p>“No doubt he was. But he has changed his opinions. He is in love, and is +engaged to be married to a very charming girl. Thus far, his beliefs and +his good fortune have pulled against each other.”</p> + +<p>“Bertie engaged to be married! Good gracious! Who is she? And how can he +support a wife? He is poor, and in debt, and he won’t even let me help +him.”</p> + +<p>“I have stated the facts, nevertheless. The lady is a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>daughter of Sir +William Browne, and they are now yachting with a large party in the +Mediterranean.”</p> + +<p>“Are her people against the match? Is that why this Scotland Yard +man—?”</p> + +<p>“No. Mensmore is on board Sir William’s yacht. But there is another +lady, missing from her home for nearly three months, who is believed to +be dead—murdered, the police say—and with whom your brother was in +some indefinable way associated.”</p> + +<p>“Do they dare to say that Bertie killed her?” Mrs. Hillmer’s color rose +and her eyes flashed fire again.</p> + +<p>“They say nothing. They are simply doing their duty in trying to +discover the truth. And you may take it from me, as an undoubted fact, +that the last place this lady visited before her death was one of the +flats in these mansions. All present indications point to your brother’s +residence as being that place. Now, I pray you, be calm, and try to help +me, for I have acted in this matter as your friend and as your brother’s +friend. At this very moment I am concealing his identity and his +whereabouts from the police, who are searching for him under the assumed +name of Corbett. If he is guilty of this crime, then I must hand him +over to justice, for the murdered woman was a dear and good friend of +mine. If he is innocent, as, indeed, I believe him to be, I will strive +to help him and save his good name from the tarnish of being arrested on +such an odious charge.”</p> + +<p>During this recital Mrs. Hillmer became deathly pale. Her agitation was +the greater inasmuch as she forcibly controlled herself. But she could +not remain seated. She sprang to the window and looked out, in the vain +effort to seek inspiration from the gathering gloom of the street. Then +she turned, and spoke very slowly:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p><p>“I think I understand. I must have faith in you, Mr. Bruce. +Who—was—the lady?”</p> + +<p>The barrister thought deeply before replying. He had previously decided +upon this supreme step, but he hesitated now that it was imminent. There +was no help for it.</p> + +<p>“Her name,” said he, “is one which is well known to the world. Lady +Dyke, wife of Sir Charles Dyke, is missing from her home since the +evening of November 6 last. She met with a violent death that night, and +I—not the police—have good reason to believe that she was killed in +your brother’s residence.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer flung herself on a lounge, buried her white face in her +hands and moaned, in a perfect agony of terror:</p> + +<p>“Oh, my God! What shall I do? What shall I do?”</p> + +<p>This outburst astounded Bruce. He did not know what to make of it. His +intelligence had certainly taken his hearer by surprise. What +interpretation was he to place upon her words and her unrestrained +actions?</p> + +<p>“Now, Mrs. Hillmer,” he began; but she broke in vehemently, running to +him and clutching him by the arm:</p> + +<p>“He is innocent, Mr. Bruce. He <i>must</i> be innocent. He could not lift his +finger to any woman. You must save him—do you hear?—save him, or you +will have his blood on your soul. It <i>was</i> true, then, that you came +here to hunt for him. Save him, if you hope for mercy yourself when you +are dying.”</p> + +<p>In her passion she shook him violently, and for an instant they looked +intently at each other—the woman tensely piteous, entreating; the man +amazed and questioning.</p> + +<p>“Do you not see,” he said at last, “that your vehemence <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>reveals your +thoughts? For anything you know to the contrary, your brother may have +committed the crime. Nay, it requires but slight knowledge of human +nature to read your suspicions lest it be true. At this moment I am +convinced that you are, in your heart, less sceptical than I of his +guilt.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer flung herself again upon the lounge, silent, tearful, torn +with violent emotion, which she vainly tried to suppress.</p> + +<p>He tried to reason with her.</p> + +<p>“It will, perhaps, serve to clear up a mystery that deepens each moment +if you place your trust in me,” he said. “Tell me fully and openly any +cause you may have for fearing that your brother may be implicated in +this terrible business. I ask you to adopt this course in all faith. I +have seen your brother under most trying circumstances; I have been with +him at an hour when it would be impossible for him to conceal his burden +if the weight of Lady Dyke’s death lay upon him. Yet I think him +innocent. I think that chance has contributed to gather evidence against +him. If I can learn even a portion of the truth it will enable me to +quickly dispel the barrier of uncertainty that now hinders progress.”</p> + +<p>“What is it you want to know?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer’s voice was hollow and broken. The barrister was shocked at +the effect of his revelation, but he was forced to go on with the +disagreeable task he had undertaken.</p> + +<p>“Do you mean,” he asked, “that you will answer my questions?”</p> + +<p>“So far as I can.”</p> + +<p>“Would it not be better to tell me in your own words what you have to +say?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p><p>Mrs. Hillmer looked up, and the agony in her face filled him with keen +pity.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Heaven help me to do what is right!” she cried.</p> + +<p>“Your prayer will surely be answered. I am certain of that. A great +wrong has been committed by some one, and the innocent must not suffer +to shield the guilty.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer bowed her head and did not utter a word for some minutes. +She appeared to be reasoning out some plan of action in a dazed fashion. +When decision came she said in low tones:</p> + +<p>“You must leave me now, Mr. Bruce. I must have time. When I am ready I +shall send for you.”</p> + +<p>He knew instinctively that it was hopeless to plead with her. Frivolous, +volatile women of her stamp often betray unusual strength of character +in a supreme crisis.</p> + +<p>“You are adopting an unwise course,” he said sadly.</p> + +<p>“Maybe. But I must be alone. I am not deceiving you. When I have +determined something which is not now clear to me, I will send for you. +It may be that I shall speak. It may be that I shall be silent. In +either case I only can judge—and suffer.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me one thing at least, Mrs. Hillmer, before we part. Did you know +of Lady Dyke’s death before to-day?”</p> + +<p>She came to him and looked him straight in the face, and said: “I did +not. On my soul, I did not.”</p> + +<p>Then he passed into the hall; and even the shock of this painful +interview did not prevent him from noting the flitting of a shadow past +a distant doorway, as some one hurried into the interior of a room.</p> + +<p>In their excitement they forgot that their voices might attract +attention, and ladies’ maids are proverbially inquisitive.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h3> + +<h2>FOXEY</h2> + +<p>The keen, cold air of the streets soon restored the man to his habitual +calm. He felt that a quiet stroll would do him good.</p> + +<p>As he walked he pondered, and the more critically he examined Mrs. +Hillmer’s change of attitude the less he understood it.</p> + +<p>“For some ridiculous reason,” he communed, “the woman believes her +brother guilty. Now I shall have endless trouble at getting at the +truth. She will not be candid. She will only tell me that which she +thinks will help him, and conceal that which she considers damaging. +That is a woman’s way, all the world over. And a desperately annoying +way it is. Perhaps I was to blame in springing this business too hastily +upon her. But there! I like Mrs. Hillmer, and I hate using her as one +juggles with a self-conceited witness. In future I shall trouble her no +more.”</p> + +<p>A casual glance into the interior of Sloane Square Station gave him a +glimpse of the barrier, and he recognized the collector who had taken +Lady Dyke’s ticket on that fatal night when she quitted the Richmond +train.</p> + +<p>Rather as a relief than for other cause he entered into conversation +with the official.</p> + +<p>“Do you remember me?” he said.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p><p>“Can’t say as I do, sir.” The man examined his questioner with quick +suspicion. The forgotten “season” dodge would not work with <i>him</i>.</p> + +<p>“Maybe you remember these?” said Bruce, producing his cigar-case.</p> + +<p>“Now, wot’s the gyme?” said the collector to himself. But he smiled, and +answered: “Do you mean by the look of ’em, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Good!” laughed Claude. “Take three or four home with you. Meanwhile I +am sure you remember me coming to see you last November concerning a +lady who alighted here from Victoria one foggy evening and handed you a +ticket to Richmond?”</p> + +<p>“Of course I do, sir. And the cigars are <i>all</i> right. There was a lot of +fuss about that lydy. Did she ever turn up?”</p> + +<p>“Not exactly. That is to say, she died shortly after you saw her.”</p> + +<p>“No! Well, of all the rummy goes! She was a fine-looking woman, too, as +well as I rec’llect. Looked fit for another fifty year. Wot ’appened to +’er.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. I wish I did.”</p> + +<p>“An’ ’ave you been on the ’unt ever since, guv’nor?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, ever since.”</p> + +<p>“She’s dead, you s’y?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“But ’ow’d you know she’s dead, if you ’ain’t seen ’er since?”</p> + +<p>“I have seen her. I saw her dead body at Putney.”</p> + +<p>“At Putney! Well, I’m blowed!”</p> + +<p>A roar from beneath, the slamming of many doors, and the quick rush of a +crowd up the steps, announced the arrival of a train. “Pardon, sir,” +said the man, “this is <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>the 5.41 Mansion House. But don’t go aw’y. +There’s somethin’—Tickets, <i>if</i> you please.”</p> + +<p>In a minute the collector had ended his task. While sorting his bundles +of pasteboards he said:</p> + +<p>“Nobody ever tell’d me that before. An’ you ain’t the only one on ’er +track. Are you in the police?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“I thought not. But some other chaps who kem ’ere was. None of ’em ever +said the lydy was dead.”</p> + +<p>“Why; what matter?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothin’, but two ’eads is better’n one, if they’re only sheep’s +’eads.”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly. The rule is all the more reliable when one of them belongs +to a shrewd chap like you.”</p> + +<p>The collector grinned. He understood that he was being flattered for a +purpose, yet he liked it.</p> + +<p>“That’s one w’y of lookin’ at it,” he said, “but if this affair’s +pertickler, why, all I can s’y is it’s worth somethin’ to somebody.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. Here’s a sovereign for a start. If you can tell me anything +really worth knowing I will add four more to it.”</p> + +<p>“Now, that’s talkin’. I’m off duty at eight o’clock, an’ I can’t ’ave a +chat now because I expect the inspector any minute.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose you call and see me in Victoria Street at nine?”</p> + +<p>“Right you are, sir.”</p> + +<p>Bruce gave the man his address and recrossed the square. Few people were +abroad, so he walked straight to the first door of Raleigh Mansions and +made his way to the fourth floor.</p> + +<p>Had he been a moment later he must have seen Mrs. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>Hillmer, closely +wrapped up, leave her residence unattended. Her carriage was not in +waiting. She walked to the cabstand in the square and called a hansom, +driving back up Sloane Street.</p> + +<p>Her actions indicated a desire to be unobserved even by her servants, as +in the usual course of events the housemaid would have brought a cab to +the door.</p> + +<p>But the barrister, steadily climbing up the stairs, could not guess what +was happening in the street. He soon opened Mensmore’s door, and noted, +as an idle fact, that the expected gust of cold air was absent.</p> + +<p>There was no light on this landing, so he was in pitch darkness once he +had passed the doorway. There was no need to strike a match, however, as +he remembered the exact position of the electric switchboard—on the +left beyond the dining-room door.</p> + +<p>He stepped cautiously forward, and stretched forth his hand to grope for +the lever. With a quick rush, some two or three assailants flung +themselves upon him, and after a fierce, gasping struggle—for Bruce was +a strong man—he was borne to the floor face downwards, with one arm +beneath him and the other pinioned behind his back.</p> + +<p>“Look sharp, Jim,” shouted a breathless voice. “Turn on the light and +close the door. We’ve got him safe enough.”</p> + +<p>They had. Two large hands were clutched round his neck, a knee was +firmly embedded in the small of his back, another hand gripped his left +wrist like a vice, while some one sat on his legs.</p> + +<p>He could not have been collared more effectually by a Rugby +International team.</p> + +<p>The third man found the electric light and turned it on.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p><p>“Now, get up,” said some one, “and don’t give us any more trouble. It’s +no use.”</p> + +<p>The barrister, who had had his wind knocked out of him, rose to his +knees. Then, as the light fell upon the horrified face of Mr. White, he +vainly essayed to keep up the pretence of indignation. Once fairly on +his feet, he nearly collapsed with laughter. He leaned against the wall, +and, as his breath came again, he laughed until his sides ached.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the detective was crimson with rage and annoyance. His two +assistants did not know what to make of the affair.</p> + +<p>“What’s wrong, Jim?” said one at last. “Isn’t this Corbett?”</p> + +<p>“No, of course it’s not,” was his angry growl.</p> + +<p>“Then who the —— is it?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, ask me another! How on earth could I guess, Mr. Bruce, that you’d +come letting yourself in here with a latchkey?”</p> + +<p>Claude was still holding his sore ribs and could not answer; but the +policeman who had questioned White caught the name. He recognized it, +and grinned at his companion.</p> + +<p>“What did you want here, anyhow?” snarled the infuriated detective, as +he realized that his great <i>coup</i> would be retailed with embellishments +through every police station in the metropolis.</p> + +<p>“I w-wanted you to ar-r-rest me, W-White,” roared Claude. “I s-said you +would, and you have.”</p> + +<p>“Confound it, how could you know I was here?”</p> + +<p>“You were sure to wait here for a man who probably will not return for +months.”</p> + +<p>“Was I, indeed? Well, you have yourself to blame if <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>you are hurt. I +hope my mates did not treat you too badly?”</p> + +<p>“What?” cried the one who had not yet spoken. “He gave me such a punch +on the bread-basket that I’ve only just recovered my speech.”</p> + +<p>“I think we’re about quits,” said the other, surveying a torn waistcoat +and broken watch-chain.</p> + +<p>“I shall be black and blue all over to-morrow,” said Bruce; “but if you +are satisfied I am. Come, Mr. White, bring your friends and we will open +a bottle of wine. We all want it. Corbett won’t be here to-night. Just +now he is in Wyoming.”</p> + +<p>“How do you know?”</p> + +<p>“By intuition. I am seldom mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“But why didn’t you call out just now when you came in?”</p> + +<p>“I hadn’t a chance. You were on me like a thousand of bricks. I must +confess that if Corbett were in my shoes he would be a doomed man.”</p> + +<p>White didn’t know whether to believe Bruce or not. He was genuinely +angry at the incident, but the barrister did not want to convert him +into an enemy, and he vaguely felt that a catastrophe was imminent, and +a false move by the police might do irretrievable mischief.</p> + +<p>“Well, inspector,” he said, “I must confess that this time you have got +the better of me. I did not know you were here. I looked in for the +purpose of quietly studying the ground, as it were, and I was never more +taken by surprise in my life. Moreover, your plan was a very clever one, +in view of the fact that Corbett might return at any moment.”</p> + +<p>The detective became more amiable at this praise from <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>the famous +amateur, for Bruce’s achievements were well known to his two colleagues.</p> + +<p>“I suppose you wondered what had happened,” he said with a smile.</p> + +<p>“I thought my last hour had come. I am only sorry that Corbett himself +did not have the experience.”</p> + +<p>“Do you really believe he is in the States, sir?”</p> + +<p>“I am sure of it.”</p> + +<p>“Then he must have returned there since he wrote that letter.”</p> + +<p>“That is the only solution of the difficulty.”</p> + +<p>“Hum. It’s a pity.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“I would sooner prefer to arrest him on this side. To get him by +extradition is a slow affair, and probably means a trip across the +Atlantic.”</p> + +<p>Good-humor being now restored, the party quitted the flat and adjourned +to a neighboring hotel, where the barrister started White on the full, +true, and particular account of his pursuit and capture of the Winchmore +Hill burglars, an exploit which was the pride of the detective’s life.</p> + +<p>At the end of a bottle of champagne and a cigar they all parted +excellent friends, but Bruce did not attempt to revisit Raleigh Mansions +that night.</p> + +<p>Instead, he partook of a quiet meal at a restaurant, and hurried to his +chambers to await the advent of the ticket-collector.</p> + +<p>Punctual to the hour, this new witness arrived, and was admitted by +Smith in obedience with previous instructions. The man was somewhat awed +by the surroundings and the appearance of a servant in livery, but Bruce +quickly put him at his ease.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p><p>“Come, sit near the fire. Do you drink whisky and soda? That box +contains your favorite cigars. Now, tell me all you know about this +business.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t s’y as I know anythink about it, sir, but by puttin’ two and +two together it makes four sometimes—not always.”</p> + +<p>“Quite right. You’re a philosopher. Let me hear the two two’s. We will +see about the addition afterwards.”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, this yer lydy was a-missin’ early in November. She tykes a +ticket at Victoria Station on the District for Richmond; she gives it up +to me at Sloane Square, arsks a newsboy the w’y to Raleigh Mansions, for +’e tell’d me so after you’d bin to see me, an’ from what you s’y, ’as +bin swallered up ever since.”</p> + +<p>“The Lord Chief couldn’t state the case more simply.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the first two. Now, for the second two, an’ you won’t forgit as +I knew nothink about the lydy bein’ dead, or I should ’ave opened my +mouth long afore this.”</p> + +<p>“Go on. No one can blame you.”</p> + +<p>“There’s an old chap—Foxey they calls ’im, but I don’t know ’is right +nyme—who drives a four-wheeler around Chelsea, an’ ’e ’ad tyken a fare +from the Square to the City. It might be four o’clock or it might be +five, but ’e was on ’is w’y back from Cornhill when a gent, a tall, +good-looking gent, a youngish, military chap, ’ails ’im and says: +‘Cabby, drive me to Sloane Square. There’s no ’urry, but tyke care, +because it’s foggy.’ Old Foxey nearly jumped out of ’is skin at this bit +of good luck. ’E was pretty full then, for ’e’s a regular beer-barrel, +’e is, but ’e made up ’is mind to ’ave a fair old skinful that night. +Well, Foxey drives ’im all right to the Square. The gent gives ’im five +bob and says: ‘Wite ’ere for me, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>cabby. You can drive me ’ome in about +an hour’s time.’ This was at 5.30. Foxey drew up near the stytion, tells +me all about it, an’ stan’s me two beers, ’e was that pleased with +’isself. ’E goes to give ’is ’oss the nose-bag, in comes the Richmond +train, and out pops the lydy with the Richmond ticket. D’ye follow me?”</p> + +<p>“Every word.”</p> + +<p>“An’ you see now ’ow it is I can fix the d’y?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I sees no more of Foxey. I missed ’im about the Square, so one +d’y I axes at the rank,—‘Where’s Foxey?’ An’ where d’ye think ’e was?”</p> + +<p>“I can not tell.”</p> + +<p>“In quod.”</p> + +<p>“In jail. Why?”</p> + +<p>“That’s hit. That’s number two of the twos. Pardon me, but I’m gettin’ a +bit mixed. Well, it seems that that very night, comin’ back from Putney +as drunk as a lord, old Foxey runs over a barrer. ’E an’ the coster ’as +a fight. The police come, and Foxey dots one bobby in the blinkers and +another on the boko. You wouldn’t think it was in ’im. ’E must ’ave bin +paralytic.”</p> + +<p>“So he was locked up?”</p> + +<p>“Locked up! ’E was dragged there by the ’eels. Next mornin’ ’e comes +before the beak. ‘We was all drunk together, your wurshup,’ ’e says. ‘I +took a fare from the City to Sloane Square, an’ ’e left me for more’n an +hour. ’E comes back excited like—bin boozin’ ’ard, I suppose—brings my +keb up to a ’ouse, carries in a lydy who was that ’toxicated she +couldn’t stand, an’ tells me to drive to Putney. We gits there, an’ I +says ‘you’ve nearly killed my ’oss, guv’nor.’ With that ’e tips me a +fiver—a five-pun note, your wurshup.’ ‘What has that got to do with +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>the charge?’ says the beak. ‘Wot?’ says Foxey. ‘If a chap give you a +fiver for drivin’ ’im to Putney wouldn’t you get drunk?’ With that the +magistrate gives ’im three months for assaulting the police, and fines +’im the balance of the fiver for bein’ drunk in charge of a ’oss and +keb.”</p> + +<p>The ticket collector took a long drink after this recital.</p> + +<p>“I hope you will not follow Foxey’s example,” said Bruce, rising.</p> + +<p>“’Ow do you mean, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Because I am going to keep my word. Here are the four sovereigns I owe +you. In your case your two and two have made five.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir. You’re a brick. No fear of me meltin’ this little lot. +The missus will be on ’em like a bird w’en I tell her.” And the man spat +upon the coins with evident relish as he handled them.</p> + +<p>“One word more,” said Bruce. “Where was this man tried?”</p> + +<p>“At the West London Police Court.”</p> + +<p>“You can get me his real name and post it to me?”</p> + +<p>“Sure, sir. Anyway, I’ll try.”</p> + +<p>“I am greatly obliged to you.”</p> + +<p>“An’ ’as my yarn bin of any use to you, sir?”</p> + +<p>“The greatest. It has solved a puzzle. However, I will see you again. +Good-bye. Don’t forget to write.”</p> + +<p>“Cornhill is the direct line from Leadenhall Street,” mused Claude, when +he was alone. “Any one coming to Sloane Square from Dodge & Co.’s office +would pass through it. Upon my word, things look very black against +Mensmore. Yet I cannot believe it.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h3> + +<h2>A POSSIBLE EXPLANATION</h2> + +<p>Bruce now had several lines of inquiry open.</p> + +<p>Apart from the main and vital question as to the exact method of Lady +Dyke’s death, and the identity of the person responsible for it, a +number of important matters required attention.</p> + +<p>Why had Jane Harding quitted her situation so suddenly?</p> + +<p>Whence did she obtain the money that enabled her to blossom forth as +Marie le Marchant?</p> + +<p>Who was Sydney H. Corbett?</p> + +<p>Why did Mensmore adopt a false name; and, in any case, why adopt the +name of Corbett?</p> + +<p>Why did Mrs. Hillmer exhibit such sudden terror lest her brother might +be guilty?</p> + +<p>Whom did Mrs. Hillmer marry? Was her husband alive or dead?</p> + +<p>Was the man who conveyed Lady Dyke’s body from Raleigh Mansions to +Putney responsible also for her death?</p> + +<p>Finally, why did he select that particular portion of the Thames banks +for the bestowal of his terrible burden?</p> + +<p>Many other minor features suggested themselves for careful attention, +but the barrister knew that if he elucidated some of the major questions +the rest would answer themselves.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p><p>The last query promised to yield a good crop of information should it be +satisfactorily dealt with. Turning to his notes, he found that the +former owner of the Putney house was a tutor or preparatory +schoolmaster, named the Rev. Septimus Childe.</p> + +<p>Could it be that this was the school in which both Sir Charles Dyke and +Mensmore were fellow-students? If so, Bruce failed to see why he should +not forthwith place the whole of the facts in his possession at the +service of the police, and allow the law to take its course.</p> + +<p>On this supposition, the case against Mensmore was very black; not, +indeed, incapable of explanation—for circumstantial evidence +occasionally plays strange pranks with logic—but of such a grave nature +that no private individual would be justified in keeping his knowledge +to himself.</p> + +<p>The deduction was intensely disagreeable; but Bruce resolved to coerce +his thoughts, and do that which was right, irrespective of consequences.</p> + +<p>He did not possess a Clergy List. No letter came from Mrs. Hillmer, so +he walked across the Park to his club in Pall Mall to consult the +appropriately bound black and white volume which gives reference to the +many degrees of the Church of England.</p> + +<p>Septimus Childe was a distinctive, though simple, name. And it was not +there. There was not a Childe with a final “e” in the whole book. +Without that important letter, as his informant might be mistaken, there +were several. Close scrutiny of each man’s designation and duties +convinced him that though any of these might be one of the particular +Childe’s children, none answered to the description of the gentleman he +sought.</p> + +<p>Of course, he could always apply to Sir Charles Dyke, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>but he dreaded +approaching the grief-stricken baronet on this matter. Now there was no +help for it. The barrister was beginning to feel impatient at the +constant difficulties which barred progress in each direction. After +all, it was a small thing merely to ask his friend if he ever knew a +reverend gentleman named Childe.</p> + +<p>Bruce was sure that Sir Charles would not be acquainted with Mr. Childe, +and also with the fact that the Putney house had served as his school, +for it would be strange beyond credence if it were so that he had not +mentioned it.</p> + +<p>The weather was still clear and cold, and a wintry sun made walking +pleasant. Claude, on quitting his club, set out again on foot. He +crossed St. James’s Square, Jermyn Street, and Piccadilly, and made his +way to Oxford Street up New Bond Street.</p> + +<p>Not often did he frequent these fashionable thoroughfares, and he had an +excellent reason. When walking, he was given to abstraction, and seldom +saw his acquaintances if he encountered them in unusual quarters. He +would thus cut dead a woman at whose house he had dined the previous +evening, or, when he was in practice at the Bar, fail to notice the +salutation of his own leader.</p> + +<p>To Claude himself this short-coming was intolerable; consciousness of it +when in the West made him the most alert man in the crowd to note +anybody whom he knew, except on the rare occasions when he forgot his +failing.</p> + +<p>This morning Bond Street was pleasantly full. People were beginning to +return to town. Parliament re-assembled in a few days, and he passed +many who were on his visiting list.</p> + +<p>Outside a well-known costumer’s he saw a brougham, into which a lady had +just been assisted by the commissionaire.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p><p>It is no uncommon thing to recognize an acquaintance by the color of his +horse, or the peculiar cut of the coachman’s whiskers. This time Bruce +knew the driver as well as the equipage, but the lady was not Mrs. +Hillmer.</p> + +<p>Instantly he was at the door, with his hat lifted; he assumed an +expression of polite regret as he saw Dobson, the maid, in her +mistress’s place.</p> + +<p>“Sorry,” he said, “I knew the carriage, and thought that Mrs. Hillmer +was inside. She is well, I trust.”</p> + +<p>“Not very, sir,” answered the maid with an angry pout.</p> + +<p>“Indeed, what is the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Madame is going away, and has put us all on board wages.”</p> + +<p>Dobson had some of the privileges of a companion, and resented this +relegation to the servants’ hall.</p> + +<p>“Going away?” cried Bruce. “A sudden departure, eh?”</p> + +<p>The girl was arranging some parcels on the seat in front of her. She was +not disinclined for a conversation with this good-looking gentleman, so +she smiled archly, as she said: “Didn’t you know, sir? I thought you +would know all about it.”</p> + +<p>What he might have ascertained by a longer chat the barrister could not +tell, for an interruption occurred. The coachman was more loyal to his +mistress than the maid.</p> + +<p>“Beg pardon, sir,” he cried, “but the missus told us to hurry”; and he +whipped his steed into the passing stream of carriages.</p> + +<p>“More complications,” murmured Claude. “Mrs. Hillmer contemplates a +bolt. Shall I pay her another visit and surprise her? No, confound it, I +will not. Let her go, and let things take their course.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p><p>Not in the most amiable frame of mind at this discovery, he pursued his +walk to Portman Square.</p> + +<p>Sir Charles Dyke was at home. He always was, now.</p> + +<p>“For goodness’ sake, Mr. Bruce,” whispered Thompson in the hall, “try to +persuade Sir Charles to quit smokin’, and readin’, and thinkin’. He sits +all day in the library and ’ardly has anything to eat.”</p> + +<p>Claude reproached himself for having neglected his resolution to stir +his friend into something like animation. He was wondering what he +should do in the matter, when the baronet rose at his entrance, saying, +with a weary smile:</p> + +<p>“Well, old fellow, what news?”</p> + +<p>The other suddenly decided to throw all questioning to the winds for the +moment. “I have come to bring you out. I won’t hear of a refusal. Let us +walk to the club and have lunch and a game of billiards.”</p> + +<p>Sir Charles protested. He had slept badly and was tired.</p> + +<p>“All the more reason that you should sleep well to-night. Come, now, be +advised. You will allow yourself to become a hopeless invalid if you go +on in this way.”</p> + +<p>Dyke unwillingly consented, and they left the house. The older man +brightened up considerably amidst the bustle of the streets. His color +returned, he talked with some degree of cheerfulness, and even laughed +as he said:</p> + +<p>“I never understood you were a doctor, Claude, in addition to your other +varied acquirements. For the first time since—since November last, I +feel hungry.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you take my advice, and go away for some shooting? It is not +too late, even now, to go after a hare.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p><p>“I will think of it. I wonder who we shall meet at the club.”</p> + +<p>“Lots of fellows, no doubt. And, by the way, you must be prepared for +one little difficulty. Suppose they ask about your wife?”</p> + +<p>The baronet’s momentary gaiety vanished. He stopped short, and clutched +Bruce’s arm. “Don’t you see,” he almost moaned, “that this is the reason +I have remained indoors for so long? What shall I say?”</p> + +<p>“You must make the best of it. Say, off-handedly, you don’t know where +she is—either with relations or in Italy. Anything will do, and it will +create a false impression.”</p> + +<p>“I am sick of false impressions. I cannot do it.”</p> + +<p>“You must.”</p> + +<p>The stronger will prevailed, and they entered the doors of the Imperial, +where, of course, Dyke was hailed at once by a dozen men.</p> + +<p>“Hallo, Charlie! Been seedy?”</p> + +<p>“Good gracious, Dyke! have you had influenza? I’ve missed you for +months, now I come to think of it.”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t seen your wife for quite a time. How is she?”</p> + +<p>In the multitude of questions there was safety.</p> + +<p>Sir Charles answered vaguely, and a chance arrival created a diversion +by announcing that the favorite had broken down in his preparation for +the Grand National.</p> + +<p>Later in the afternoon, the two found themselves ensconced in a quiet +corner of the smoking-room. Bruce seized the opportunity.</p> + +<p>“You told me,” he said, “that Mensmore and you were at school together?”</p> + +<p>“Did I?” said the baronet.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p><p>“Yes; don’t you remember?”</p> + +<p>“I get mixed up in thinking about things. But it is all right. We were.”</p> + +<p>“Whereabouts?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, a private establishment kept by an old chap called Septimus +Childe,—Lucky Number was our nickname for him.”</p> + +<p>Bruce betrayed no surprise at this startlingly simple statement. He said +casually:</p> + +<p>“I mean where was the school situated?”</p> + +<p>“At Brighton in my time. But afterwards he shifted to some place near +London—something to do with examinations, I fancy.”</p> + +<p>“But don’t you know where?”</p> + +<p>“How should I? I was at Sandhurst then. I believe the old boy is dead. +Why do you ask?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it has something to do with the inquiry. I won’t trouble you now +with the details.”</p> + +<p>“Go on, I can stand it.”</p> + +<p>“But where is the good in paining you needlessly?”</p> + +<p>“That stage has passed, old chap. My wife’s memory has almost become a +dream to me.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it is an extraordinary thing, but that place where—that house at +Putney, you know, must have been the new school of the Rev. Septimus +Childe.”</p> + +<p>“How did you learn that?”</p> + +<p>“I have known it for months, ever since the inquest.”</p> + +<p>“And you did not tell me?”</p> + +<p>“True, but at the time it seemed of no consequence. Now that Mensmore +turns out to be a pupil of his, and probably passed the remainder of his +early school days at that very establishment, the incident assumes a +degree of importance.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p><p>Sir Charles looked earnestly at his friend as he put his next question: +“Tell me, Claude, do you seriously believe that Mensmore had anything to +do with my wife’s death?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot honestly give you a satisfactory answer.”</p> + +<p>“But what do you think?”</p> + +<p>“If you press me I will try to put my opinion into words. Mensmore was +in some mysterious way associated with the crime; but the degree of +association, and whether conscious or unconscious, I do not know.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean by ‘conscious or unconscious’?”</p> + +<p>“I am sure that Lady Dyke met her death in his residence; but it is +impossible to say now if he was aware of her presence. He was in London +at the time, that is quite certain.”</p> + +<p>“Do the police know all this?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad of it. Mensmore did not kill my wife. The suggestion is +absurd—wildly absurd.”</p> + +<p>“Things look black against him, nevertheless.”</p> + +<p>“I tell you it is nonsense. You are on the wrong track, Bruce. What +possible reason could he have had to decoy my wife to his flat and there +murder her?”</p> + +<p>“None, perhaps.”</p> + +<p>“Then why do you hesitate to agree with me?”</p> + +<p>“Because there is a woman in the case.”</p> + +<p>“Another woman?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; Mensmore’s sister, or half-sister, to be exact. She also lives in +Raleigh Mansions.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed. So all kinds of things have been going on without my knowledge. +Yet you promised faithfully to keep me informed of every incident that +transpired.”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry, Dyke; but you were so upset—”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p><p>“Upset, man. Don’t you realize that this affair is all I have to think +about in the world?”</p> + +<p>The baronet was so disturbed that Claude at once made up his mind to +tell him as little as possible in the future. These constant +possibilities of rupture between them must be avoided at all hazard.</p> + +<p>To change the conversation he said: “Never mind; this time you must +pardon my inadvertence. How do your wife’s people bear the continued +mystery of her disappearance?”</p> + +<p>“At first they were awfully cut up. But lately they have been reconciled +to her death, which they say must have resulted from accident, and that +her identity must have been mixed up with that of some other person. +Such things do happen, you know. Anyway, her sister has gone into +mourning for her. You didn’t hear, I suppose, that I have made my little +nephew my heir?”</p> + +<p>“Was that step necessary at your time of life?”</p> + +<p>“I shall never marry again, Bruce.”</p> + +<p>“Well, let us drop the subject. You have done right as regards the boy +under present circumstances; but, as a man of the world, I only point +out that it is an unwise thing to bring up a youngster in expectation of +something which chance might determine differently.”</p> + +<p>“Chance! There is no chance! My wife cannot return from the grave!”</p> + +<p>“True. You have done right, no doubt. But the suddenness of the thing +caused me to speak unwittingly.”</p> + +<p>They were silent for a little while, when Sir Charles returned to the +subject nearest his heart.</p> + +<p>“Has your search developed in other directions?”</p> + +<p>Bruce fenced with the query. “To be candid,” he said, “I am now most +busily engaged in the not very <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>difficult task of throwing dust in the +eyes of the police. My motives are hardly definite to myself, but I do +not want this unfortunate man, Mensmore, to be arrested until I have +personally become convinced of his guilt.”</p> + +<p>“You are right. Your instinct seldom fails you. I question if he ever, +to his own knowledge, saw my wife.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! You see you have hit upon the difficulty. Show me her reason for +making that secret journey, and I will tell you how she met her death.”</p> + +<p>His concluding words sank to a murmur. An old friend of Dyke’s had +entered the room and came toward them.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later Bruce quitted the Imperial and drove to his +chambers, where he found a note from the ticket collector stating that +Foxey’s name was William Marsh.</p> + +<p>The day was still young, and the barrister paid a visit to the West +London Police Court, where the records soon revealed the conviction of +the cab-driver and the period of his sentence.</p> + +<p>“Let me see,” said the resident inspector, “his time at Holloway is up +on February 6. That is a Monday, and as Sunday doesn’t count, he will be +liberated on the 4th, about 8 <small>A.M.</small> That is the habit, sir, in the matter +of short sentences. If you want to see him when he leaves the jail you +can either wait at the gates or at the nearest public-house, where the +prisoners go for their first drink. They seldom or never miss.”</p> + +<p>Bruce thanked the official and returned home.</p> + +<p>He was on the point of going out to drive, when he received a letter +from Sir Charles Dyke. It ran:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“<i>My Dear Claude</i>,—Today’s experiences have taught me to take +the inevitable step of announcing my wife’s <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>death. Hence, I +have forwarded the enclosed notice to an advertisement agency, +with instructions to insert it in the principal papers. I have +also decided to follow your advice and leave town for a few +days. I am going to Wensley, my place in Yorkshire, should you +happen to want me.</p> + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 7em;">“Yours,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-right: 1.5em;">“<span class="smcap">Charles Dyke</span>.”</span></p></div> + +<p>The notice read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“<span class="smcap">Dyke.</span>—On November 6, Alice, wife of Sir Charles Dyke, Bart., +suddenly, at London.”</p></div> + +<p>Next morning it figured in the obituary columns of many newspapers. +Bruce, though taken back by the suddenness of his friend’s resolve, saw +no reason to endeavor to dissuade him. In the words of the letter, it +was “the inevitable step.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h3> + +<h2>WHAT HAPPENED ON THE RIVIERA</h2> + +<p>The <i>White Heather</i> swung quietly at her moorings in the harbor of Genoa +the Superb. The lively company on board, tired after a day’s +sight-seeing, had left the marble streets and palace cafés to the +Genoese, and sought the pleasant seclusion of the yacht’s airy promenade +deck.</p> + +<p>“Dinner on board, followed by a dance,” said Phyllis, as arbiter of the +procedure. A few hasty invitations sent out to British residents in +Genoa met with general acceptance, and the lull between afternoon tea +and the more formal meal was a grateful interlude.</p> + +<p>Genoa is so shut in by its amphitheatre of hills that unless a gale +blows from the west its bay is unruffled, and its atmosphere +oppressively hot during the day, even in the winter months.</p> + +<p>Sir William Browne’s excursion had proved so attractive to those invited +that the <i>White Heather</i> was taken farther along the coast than was +originally intended. When all the best known resorts of the Riviera +itself were exploited, some one, probably prompted thereto by Phyllis or +Mensmore, suggested a run to Genoa.</p> + +<p>They had been in the port three days, and on the morrow would hand the +yacht over to the owner’s agents, those on board separating on their +different routes. The Brownes went to Florence and Rome, and Mensmore +was pretending <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>to hold out against a pressing request to accompany +them, cordially given by his prospective father-in-law.</p> + +<p>This afternoon Phyllis and he were leaning over the taffrail and +discussing the point.</p> + +<p>The young lady was slightly inclined to be angry. Her eyes roamed over +the magnificent panorama of church-crowned hills and verdant valleys, +with the white city in front and the picturesque quays looking as though +they had been specially decked for a painting by Clara Montalba. But +Phyllis paid heed to none of these things. She wanted her lover to come +with her, and not to fly away to smoke-covered London.</p> + +<p>“Business!” she cried, “it is always business that men think of. Of +course I know that affairs must be attended to, but now that everything +is settled and we are quite happy, it is too bad of you to run away +immediately.”</p> + +<p>“But, dearest—”</p> + +<p>“There! Take your hand off my arm. You are not going to coax me into +agreement. Just because you receive a horrid letter this morning you go +and upset all the arrangements.”</p> + +<p>“Phyllis, listen to me. I—”</p> + +<p>“You <i>shan’t</i> go. I think it is mean of you to insist upon it when I am +so urgent.”</p> + +<p>“I am not insisting. You might at least help me to settle matters; +otherwise they will get terribly mixed.”</p> + +<p>“And you <i>will</i> stay?”</p> + +<p>“What else can I do when you ask me?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you darling!”</p> + +<p>This little quarrel was very delightful, and made them feel ever so much +more in love than before; but it did not help Mensmore out of his +difficulty.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p><p>“Let us see what Corbett really says,” he remarked, ruefully taking a +letter from his pocket.</p> + +<p>“Am I to look, too?”</p> + +<p>“Of course. I have no secrets from you, little woman.”</p> + +<p>Phyllis nestled up close to him. This time she did not object to his +hand resting on her shoulder, and together they read the following +letter:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“<i>My Dear Bertie</i>,—At last I am able to write you definitely. +The prospectors have struck it rich on our property, and I have +sold two claims outright for $50,000. With this nest-egg I am +taking the girls to New York, and shall then start by the +<i>Teutonic</i> for your side of the pond. I am due in Liverpool on +February 4, so look out for me.</p> + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 7em;">“Yours ever,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-right: 1.5em;">”<span class="smcap">Sydney H. Corbett</span>.”</span></p></div> + +<p>Both gazed thoughtfully at the document for a few moments before Phyllis +said:</p> + +<p>“Does that mean we shall be rich, Bertie?”</p> + +<p>Her companion emphasized the gratification of the plural pronoun by a +squeeze.</p> + +<p>“I hope so, sweet.”</p> + +<p>“That will be very nice, won’t it? I will marry you even if you have to +take a place in father’s office; but it will be so much better if we +haven’t to explain to him that we are poor after all.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore laughed. “It is not so bad as that in any case,” he said. “This +Springbok Mine speculation will probably turn out well, but I look to +Wyoming to yield the best and most permanent results.”</p> + +<p>“Why is Mr. Corbett coming to London?”</p> + +<p>“Because it is only in London that capital can be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>obtained for large +undertakings, and if the Wyoming Goldfield is really a valuable one we +may be able to realize some portion of our interests for a considerable +sum. Anyhow, he wants to consult me.”</p> + +<p>“Do you both own the ranch?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; it was a joint transaction, but I found the money.”</p> + +<p>“And why did you come away?”</p> + +<p>“Well, we made very little out of it, Phil. As Corbett has two sisters, +I thought it best to leave what there was for him. He was absurdly +grateful about what he called my generosity in the matter, but now that +the land has proved valuable, of course all that nonsense is at an end, +and we go half-shares in the deal.”</p> + +<p>“Two sisters! They pretty?”</p> + +<p>“What! Jealous already! They are very nice, but much older than their +brother, and he is my senior by two years.”</p> + +<p>Miss Browne was graciously pleased to accept this explanation. She +knitted her smooth brow into a reflective frown as she said:</p> + +<p>“Mr. Corbett arrives on the 4th. It is now January 30th. You really +ought to go home, Bertie.”</p> + +<p>“Now my dear, sensible little woman is talking like her own self.”</p> + +<p>“I see I must give you permission. But I did hope we would see Florence +together.”</p> + +<p>“So we shall. I’ll tell you what I can do. I shall write to Corbett +to-day, care of the steamer at Liverpool, tell him to go to my flat, and +stay there a few days until I arrive, and go home myself at the end of +next week. He is sure to spend some time seeing the sights before +tackling business, and he can do that as well without me as if I were +there. A line to my old housekeeper, who has <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>a spare key, will make the +place habitable for him. Happy thought, I’ll do it.”</p> + +<p>“And another happy thought! I’ll come and watch you do it.”</p> + +<p>She did not notice that Mensmore’s face clouded at this otherwise +pleasant intimation. Nevertheless, he raced off with her to the saloon +and seated himself at the writing-table. But before he placed pen to +paper, Phyllis bending over him meanwhile, he suddenly exclaimed, in a +tone of annoyance:</p> + +<p>“Now, what a bore this is. I don’t know how to address the letter to +make sure of reaching him at once, and it is very important that it +should not miss him.”</p> + +<p>“Father will know. Let us ask him.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Mensmore judicially, “I will row across the harbor to the +Florio-Rubattino office, find out the exact thing, and send off the +letter. Back in half-an-hour. Be good!”</p> + +<p>And before Phyllis could argue the matter he was at the gangway shouting +for a boat.</p> + +<p>She blew a kiss to him as he shot over the narrow strip of water inside +the mole, and little realized that Mensmore was saying to himself:</p> + +<p>“That was a narrow squeak. Never again, as long as I live, will I take +another man’s name. It causes no end of bother, and at the most +unexpected moments.”</p> + +<p>He did not trouble the Florio-Rubattino people, as he well knew that a +letter addressed to the White Star offices would insure any +communication reaching his friend.</p> + +<p>The context of the missive, as finally indited at the post-office, +explains his hesitancy to write it in the presence of his <i>fiancée</i>.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p><div class="blockquot"><p>“<i>My dear Sydney</i>,—Your good news is more than surprising. +Although I believe you, I cannot yet grasp its full +significance. However, let us leave explanations until we meet. +I am fixed here for a few days more, as I have just become +engaged to the sweetest girl in the world, but will return home +at the end of next week. Meanwhile I want you to take up your +residence at my flat, No. 12 Raleigh Mansions, Sloane Square, +where my housekeeper has instructions to receive you. Do not be +surprised if you find the name of Corbett familiar there. +Indeed, I took the place in your name in August last. However, +all explanations when we meet.</p> + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 7em;">“Yours ever,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-right: 1.5em;">“<span class="smcap">Bertie Mensmore</span>.”</span></p></div> + +<p>This, with a note to the housekeeper, Mrs. Robinson, and another to the +hall-porter of the Universities Club, lest by any chance the Liverpool +letter missed his friend, completed his task.</p> + +<p>He laughed as he hurried from the post-office to the harbor.</p> + +<p>“By Jove!” he said to himself, “won’t old Robinson be surprised when she +gets my letter telling her that another Mr. Corbett is coming from +America, and that my name, concealed for family reasons, is Mensmore. I +guess that Sydney will feel a bit mixed up, too, until I tell him the +whole yarn.”</p> + +<p>No wonder his housekeeper would fail to understand him.</p> + +<p>Others, whose influence on his fortunes he little suspected, were +already puzzled by the circumstances. Bruce, for instance, and White +would be very glad if some occult <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>power enabled them to read the +seemingly trivial letters posted that day in Genoa.</p> + +<p>Every person known to the reader, and not the least the visitor from the +United States, was on the eve of a mad whirl of events, the outcome of +which no man could prophesy. As yet, one man only, Claude Bruce, had the +slightest suspicion that affairs were approaching a crisis.</p> + +<p>When Mensmore reached the <i>White Heather</i> he found Lady Browne and +Phyllis dressed for a drive before dinner. Sir William seized the +opportunity to cross-examine his daughter’s suitor as to his means. +Phyllis was an only child, and her father did not propose that she +should live in penury, whatever the financial position of her husband +might be. He liked Mensmore, and had ascertained by private inquiries +that his social position was good.</p> + +<p>“His father was a Major-General,” said his informant, “who lost his +savings by speculation, and was unable to maintain his son in a crack +cavalry corps, so the youngster resigned and went to America to try to +better himself. There was a daughter, too, by the first wife, a very +charming woman, who, when the crash came, was supposed to have gone on +the stage. But I have never heard of her since.”</p> + +<p>So far, the credentials were not bad; but Sir William thought it his +duty to ascertain definite particulars.</p> + +<p>Mensmore was quite candid with him.</p> + +<p>“I have been somewhat of a rolling stone,” he said, “but I am glad to +believe that people have never had cause to think ill of me. At times, +my affairs have been at a desperate stage, but I hope such periods have +passed forever. I have already spoken to you about the Springbok Mine—”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p><p>The old gentleman nodded.</p> + +<p>“Well, this morning I have received very satisfactory news from +America,” and he handed over Corbett’s letter for perusal.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” agreed Sir William, “these things promise well. We will look into +them when we reach England. Meanwhile, I give my provisional sanction to +my daughter’s engagement. She is a good girl, Mensmore. She will be a +true and excellent wife. I think you are worthy of her, and I hope that +whatever clouds may have darkened your life will now pass away. You two +ought to be happy.”</p> + +<p>“We will, sir,” said Mensmore fervently.</p> + +<p>“By the way, where is your sister? Is she in England or abroad?”</p> + +<p>Mensmore had been expecting this question. He was prepared for it.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Hillmer is my half-sister,” he explained. “I have not seen much of +her since—since an unhappy marriage she contracted some years ago.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed. Is her husband alive?”</p> + +<p>“I can hardly tell you. I believe so. But she does not live with him. +She is well provided for, but it was partly on account of this matter +that I came to the Riviera for the winter. To tell the truth, I +quarrelled with her about it.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, well. Her troubles need not affect Phyllis and you, except to give +you warning. And take my advice. Never interfere between husband and +wife. However good your motive, ill is sure to come of it.”</p> + +<p>In the growing dusk Sir William Browne did not note his companion’s +embarrassment in discussing this topic. Mensmore was essentially an +honorable man, and he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>detested the necessity which forced him to permit +false inferences to be drawn from his words. Yet there was no help for +it. He was compelled to suffer for the faults of another.</p> + +<p>It was relief when the dressing-bell for dinner allowed him to escape to +his cabin.</p> + +<p>There was quite a large gathering for dinner. Places like Genoa contain +a number of highly interesting personages if the visitor discovers them. +The British race produces a richer variety of human flotsam and jetsam +than any other. These derelicts come to anchor in out-of-the-way parts +of the earth. They seem to have been everywhere and have done +everything, while the whole world is an open book to them.</p> + +<p>Thus there was no lack of variety in the conversation, and, as usual in +such assemblies, it dealt more with persons than with incidents.</p> + +<p>Phyllis had arranged the guests, so it may be taken for granted that her +lover was near her—in fact, he sat exactly opposite. The lady he took +in to dinner was the wife of an English doctor, and the British consul +at the port was Miss Browne’s table companion.</p> + +<p>The consul was a chatty man, who kept himself well informed concerning +society events.</p> + +<p>“By the way,” he said to Phyllis, “did you ever meet Lady Dyke?”</p> + +<p>“No, her name is not familiar to me.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean the wife of Sir Charles Dyke?” said Mensmore; and the +sudden interest he evinced caused Phyllis to glance at him wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is she.”</p> + +<p>“I know Sir Charles well. What is there new about his wife?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p><p>“She is dead.”</p> + +<p>“Good Heavens! Dead! When, and how?”</p> + +<p>Mensmore was so obviously agitated that others present noticed it, and +Phyllis marvelled much that in all their confidence the name of Dyke had +never escaped his lips.</p> + +<p>The consul, too, was a little nonplussed by the sensation caused by his +words.</p> + +<p>“I fear,” he said, “that I have blurted out the fact rather unguardedly. +The Dykes are friends of yours?”</p> + +<p>“No, no, not in that sense. Sir Charles I have known for many years. But +are you sure his wife is dead?”</p> + +<p>“My authority is an announcement in the <i>Times</i> to hand by to-day’s +post. I should not have mentioned it were not her ladyship so well known +in society, and the affair is peculiar, to say the least.”</p> + +<p>“Peculiar—how?”</p> + +<p>In his all-absorbing interest in the consul’s statement, Mensmore paid +no heed to the curious looks directed at him; he had become very pale, +and was more excited in manner than the circumstances appeared to +warrant.</p> + +<p>“In this sense: The paper is the issue of January 28, yet the notice +says that Lady Dyke died on November 6. This is odd, is it not? A woman +of her position could hardly have quitted life so quietly that no one +would trouble to publish the fact until nearly three months after the +event.”</p> + +<p>“It is extraordinary—inexplicable!”</p> + +<p>“Did you know Lady Dyke personally, Bertie?” put in Phyllis timorously.</p> + +<p>The question restored Mensmore to some sense of his surroundings.</p> + +<p>“I have never even seen her,” he said, trying desperately to be +commonplace; “but her husband is an old <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>schoolfellow of mine, and I +have heard much of both of them since their marriage. I am quite shocked +by the news.”</p> + +<p>“I can only repeat my regret for having spoken of it so carelessly,” +said the polite consul.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am glad to know of it since it has happened. Poor Lady Dyke! How +strange that she should die!”</p> + +<p>Phyllis had the tact to change the conversation, and Mensmore gradually +recovered his self-possession. A woman’s eyes are keener than a man +often gives her credit for; and Phyllis saw quite plainly that after the +first effect of the news had passed it, in some indefinable way, seemed +to have a good effect on her lover. But if a woman’s intuition is seldom +at fault her reasoning faculties are narrow.</p> + +<p>Trying to arrive at a solution of the mystery attending Mensmore’s +behavior, Phyllis suddenly became hot all over.</p> + +<p>She felt furiously and inordinately jealous of a woman she did not know, +and who was admittedly dead before Mensmore and she herself had met.</p> + +<p>Hence her nose went high in the air when Bertie claimed her for the +first dance.</p> + +<p>“Who is this Lady Dyke in whom you are so deeply interested?” she said, +drawing him beneath a sheltering awning.</p> + +<p>“As I said,” replied Mensmore, “she is the wife of an old acquaintance +of mine.”</p> + +<p>“But you must have been very fond of her to feel so keenly when you +heard of her death?”</p> + +<p>“Fond of her! I have never, to my knowledge, laid eyes on her.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p><p>“Oh!” And the tone was somewhat mollified. “Then why did you look so +worried during dinner?”</p> + +<p>“Simply because I know Sir Charles.”</p> + +<p>“What a dear, sympathetic little boy you are! When I die, Bertie, I +suppose you will drop down stiff from grief at once.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t talk nonsense. We are missing all this delightful music.”</p> + +<p>And they whirled away down the snowy deck, forgetful of all things save +one, that they were in love.</p> + +<p>Now, what a pity it was that Bruce was not on board the <i>White Heather</i> +that night. Many complications, and not a little misery, would have been +avoided thereby.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h3> + +<h2>WHERE MRS. HILLMER WENT</h2> + +<p>Sir Charles Dyke, in sending off the hurried announcement of his wife’s +death, forgot the “society” papers.</p> + +<p>Such a promising topic did not come in their way every week, and they +made the most of it. Where did Lady Dyke die? Under what circumstances +did she die? They rolled the morsel under their tongue in every +conceivable manner.</p> + +<p>Details were not forthcoming.</p> + +<p>“Our representative called at Wensley House, Portman Square, but was +informed that Sir Charles was in Yorkshire.” Inquiry by a local reporter +from Sir Charles in person elicited no information. “Lady Dyke is dead,” +wrote this enterprising journalist; “of that there can be no manner of +doubt, but her husband states that for family reasons he is unable to +supply the public with the precise facts concerning his wife’s demise.”</p> + +<p>This ill-advised authentic statement only fanned the flame. An evening +journal got hold of the proceedings at the Putney Coroner’s Court which +inquired into the death of a woman found in the Thames, and, with a +portentous display of headlines, published an interview with the doctor +giving particulars of the iron spike found imbedded in the skull.</p> + +<p>The paper was also able to state “on the best authority” that at this +inquest Sir Charles Dyke and the missing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>lady’s personal maid were +called in to identify the body, but failed.</p> + +<p>A first-class sensation was in full swing and threatened to reach the +question stage in the House of Commons when Bruce took hold of affairs.</p> + +<p>He went to Sir Charles Dyke’s solicitors, and induced them to send out +the following authoritative communication to the press:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Much unnecessary pain is being caused to Sir Charles Dyke and to the +relatives of his late wife by the comments which have appeared in many +newspapers regarding Lady Dyke’s death. Her ladyship left her home on +November 6th to pay a visit to her sister at Richmond, and since that +date has not been seen or heard of. There was no possible reason for her +disappearance. After a long and agonizing search, her husband and +relatives have come to the conclusion that she met with some accident on +the date named, with the result that her identity was not established, +and she was probably buried from some hospital or other institution long +before her friends seriously entertained the thought that she was dead. +Every such case of accidental death followed by the interment of unknown +persons by the authorities, occurring on or about November 6th, has +since been rigidly investigated, but no definite trace has been found of +the missing lady. Sir Charles Dyke determined to take the public step of +announcing his wife’s death in the hope that any hitherto undiscovered +clue might thereby come to light. But there are no grounds to suppose +that any other explanation of the occurrence than that given will be +forthcoming. The investigation has been in the hands of Scotland Yard +throughout, so no good purpose can be served by further discussion in +the press of what is now, and threatens to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>remain, a mystery rendered +more complex by the simplicity of its leading features.”</p></div> + +<p>Several newspapers, of course, pointed out that they were helping +forward the inquiry by noising it abroad, but thenceforth the paragraphs +ceased, being eclipsed in interest by the revelations of a great divorce +case in which there were no less than six titled co-respondents.</p> + +<p>One man was much puzzled by the original obituary notice and the +semi-official statement supplied by the solicitors.</p> + +<p>Mr. White did not know what to make of them. He guessed that Bruce had +inspired that “explanation,” and he read the concluding sentence many +times.</p> + +<p>“It threatens to remain a mystery, does it not?” he murmured. “Just +wait, Mr. Bruce, until I lay my hands on Corbett. Clever as you are, I +think I will show you that Scotland Yard can occasionally get the better +of your theories. Anyhow, Corbett will have to be very explicit about +his movements before I am satisfied that he knows nothing about this +business.”</p> + +<p>He had written to the Chief of Police at Cheyenne, and something +definite would soon come to hand.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, he felt somewhat shaken in his diagnosis of the crime. +Wyoming was a long way from London, and the letter from Corbett, which +he had in his possession, did not exactly confirm his suspicion that +this man was concerned in the murder of Lady Dyke.</p> + +<p>He quickly became aware of Mrs. Hillmer’s departure, and at once jumped +to the conclusion that she had recently left England for the United +States. A close scrutiny of the passenger lists at Liverpool and +Southampton did not help him much, and he ultimately resolved to call on +Bruce, in the hope that a chance exclamation might reveal the +barrister’s opinion of the situation.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p><p>Claude was not at a loss to account for Mr. White’s presence.</p> + +<p>“I expected you,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Really now, may I ask why, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Because you have missed Mrs. Hillmer, and you want me to help you find +where she has gone, and why.”</p> + +<p>The detective smiled.</p> + +<p>“I won’t say that you are wrong, sir,” he cried. “In these affairs it is +always well to keep an eye on the woman, you know.”</p> + +<p>“When did Mrs. Hillmer leave Raleigh Mansions?”</p> + +<p>“On the 30th.”</p> + +<p>“It is now February 3. Four days ago, eh?”</p> + +<p>“That is the time. She might have left by the American line from +Southampton or the Cunard from Liverpool on Wednesday, but she did not, +and no one answering to her description is booked by the White Star +to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Southampton! Liverpool! Do you think she has gone to America?”</p> + +<p>“Where else? She’s in league with Corbett, somehow, of that I am +certain, and I think that the Monte Carlo address was a mere blind—a +clever one, too, as it even deceived you, Mr. Bruce.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. It did deceive me.”</p> + +<p>“Then why are you so surprised at the suggestion that the lady should +attempt to cross the Atlantic?”</p> + +<p>“Because I have not your rapid perception of the points of the case.”</p> + +<p>“That’s your way of pulling my leg, Mr. Bruce.”</p> + +<p>The barrister smiled.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer, of course, had gone to Monte Carlo. Once there she would +have little difficulty in tracing the <i>White Heather</i>, and overtaking +Mensmore.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p><p>She would warn him of the police pursuit, and there would be a scene +between them.</p> + +<p>How would it result? Would Mensmore, guilty, seek safety in flight? +Would he, innocent, return to London and demand to be confronted with +his accusers?</p> + +<p>For the life of him, Bruce could not say positively. Yet he felt the +situation was too delicate to be dealt with by Mr. White’s bludgeon +methods, and he forebore to speak.</p> + +<p>The detective interpreted his silence as an admission of inability to +find a satisfactory explanation of Mrs. Hillmer’s absence.</p> + +<p>He went on:</p> + +<p>“Corbett is not at Monte Carlo.”</p> + +<p>“So I imagined.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it is a fact. The police have made constant inquiries for him at +the Hotel du Cercle and elsewhere. Not the slightest trace of him can be +found.”</p> + +<p>“I was there myself, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. I have not forgotten that. But it shows what a clever rascal +the fellow is in concealing his identity. However, he could never have +counted on my discovering that letter of his. Even if he is not in +America we shall have some reliable data to go upon in answer to my +queries.”</p> + +<p>“There I fully agree with you. You will have done a great deal if you +thoroughly clear up the mystery regarding Corbett. May I ask you to let +me know the result?”</p> + +<p>“With pleasure, sir. And now, can I request a favor in return?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me, then, what is, in your opinion, the best way to find Mrs. +Hillmer.”</p> + +<p>Bruce did not expect to be thus openly challenged on <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>the matter. It was +one thing to withhold his own theories and discoveries from this +representative of the majesty of the law, but quite another to refuse to +help a detective with whom he was nominally working.</p> + +<p>Besides, Mrs. Hillmer had four days’ start. It would take some +time—possibly a telegram would not be sufficiently explicit—to obtain +the desired assistance from the Continental police. Yes—in this +instance, Mensmore must take his chances.</p> + +<p>“If I were you,” said Bruce, slowly weighing his words, “I would inquire +at the Continental booking-offices at Victoria and Charing Cross, and +from the guards in charge of the morning mail trains on the 30th. In +fact, it would be quite safe if you were to wire the authorities at +Monte Carlo, asking if Mrs. Hillmer is not now at the Hotel du Cercle.”</p> + +<p>The detective started as though he had been shot.</p> + +<p>“What!” he cried, “you think she is there all the time?”</p> + +<p>“I think she has been there since Wednesday morning.”</p> + +<p>“That is what I mean. Why did you not tell me sooner?”</p> + +<p>“Because you never asked me. And now, Mr. White, one word of advice. Go +slow.”</p> + +<p>“It’s all jolly fine telling me to go slow when I have no reason to go +fast. The case even against Corbett is shadowy enough at present.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly. Wait until you can grasp a substance.”</p> + +<p>“I will, sir,” said White, jamming his hat on; “but when I lay my hands +on Corbett I will grasp him hard enough.”</p> + +<p>It took the policeman all that day to satisfy himself that Mrs. Hillmer +had really booked for the Riviera by the Club train from Charing Cross +on the preceding Monday.</p> + +<p>Just as he verified the fact, came a reply from the Monte Carlo police:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p><div class="blockquot"><p>“Mrs. Hillmer arrived at the Hotel du Cercle on Wednesday. Left +for Italy same afternoon. Shall we endeavor to trace her?”</p></div> + +<p>“Oh, bother,” he growled. “Corbett may be in Jerusalem by this time. And +here have I been fussing about Wyoming or some other potato-patch in the +Far West.”</p> + +<p>However, he wired again to Monte Carlo:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Yes. Locate Mrs. Hillmer, if possible. I will then telegraph +instructions to local police.”</p></div> + +<p>When this message was despatched he felt easier in his mind.</p> + +<p>The chase was at least getting warm.</p> + +<p>“I cannot arrest him yet,” he reflected; “but if I once get fairly on +his track, I will not lose sight of him again if I can help it. I +suppose it will mean a trip to Italy for me. I must lay the evidence +before the Treasury to see if a warrant is justified.”</p> + +<p>Two days passed without incident.</p> + +<p>Late on Sunday evening, February 5, a Continental telegram was handed to +him at Scotland Yard:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Mrs. Hillmer’s present address, Hotel Imperiale, Florence.”</p></div> + +<p>He promptly wired the Chief of Police at Florence:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Keep Mrs. Hillmer, English visitor, Hotel Imperiale, under +surveillance. Also watch her associates, particularly +Englishman named Corbett, if there. Letter follows.”</p></div> + +<p>“That’s a good stroke of business,” said he, when the message was sent. +“Now we shan’t be long!”</p> + +<p>It was in contented mood that he lit a cigar in his office, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>before +walking home for dinner, but a messenger with the badge of the +Commercial Cable Company in Northumberland Avenue bustled past him.</p> + +<p>“Who’s the cable for, boy?” said the detective.</p> + +<p>“White, Scotland Yard,” was the answer.</p> + +<p>“That’s me.”</p> + +<p>He tore open the envelope, and found that the contents were coded, but +he caught the word “Corbett” amidst the unintelligible jumble.</p> + +<p>With some excitement he rushed into the office to find the A B C Code, +and after some confusion in deciphering the words, this was what he +read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Regret delay in replying to your communication. Corbett left +New York in <i>White Star</i> steamer due Liverpool, February 4.”</p></div> + +<p>“February 4? Why, that’s yesterday. Good gracious, he’s here all the +time. Well, of all the—”</p> + +<p>But exclamations were useless. Calling another plain-clothes man to +accompany him, he drove off in mad haste to Sloane Square.</p> + +<p>About an hour later Bruce received a typewritten slip gummed on to a +telegraph form. It was from Florence, and ran as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“My brother wildly excited regarding allegations. We start for +London to-night. Meanwhile fearful complications expected. Mr. +Corbett, of Wyoming, my brother’s friend, is probably occupying +his flat, and may be arrested. We both trust you to save him. +Wire us at Modane or Gare du Nord.</p> + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 1.5em;">”<span class="smcap">Gwendoline Hillmer.</span>”</span></p></div> + +<p>So Bruce also raced off in a hansom towards Sloane Square.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h3> + +<h2>MR. SYDNEY H. CORBETT</h2> + +<p>The detective glanced up at Bruce’s chambers while passing through +Victoria Street.</p> + +<p>“I wonder what he would think if he knew what we are after,” he said to +his colleague, one of the two who accompanied him when the barrister was +arrested by mistake.</p> + +<p>“What <i>are</i> we after?” said the policeman.</p> + +<p>“This time we are going to nail the right Corbett,” was the confident +answer.</p> + +<p>“Will we cart him off?”</p> + +<p>“Well, now, that depends. I think I am quite right in collaring him +unless he explains to my satisfaction, which is hardly likely.”</p> + +<p>“The charge is one of murder, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Who did he kill?”</p> + +<p>“Well, up to now it hasn’t come out, for the sake of the family. But if +Corbett is here you will know soon enough.”</p> + +<p>“It’s a funny way to go to work.”</p> + +<p>“Commissioner’s orders, my boy. I am not to reveal the la— the name +until it cannot be helped. However, as I have said so much, I don’t mind +telling you it’s a woman, and a big one too.”</p> + +<p>“Big! Fat, do you mean?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p><p>“No. A woman of high position.”</p> + +<p>“Phew! A regular society scandal, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>“That’s about the size of it.”</p> + +<p>On arrival at Sloane Square they quickly ascended to No. 12 Raleigh +Mansions.</p> + +<p>A stout, elderly woman answered their knock, and a glance at her face +revealed the map of Ireland, although her name was Saxon Robinson.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Corbett in?” inquired White.</p> + +<p>“Faix, he’s not.”</p> + +<p>“Then where is he?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, misther, an’ if I did I wouldn’t be afther telling when +axed in an oncivil manner.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Mrs. ——”</p> + +<p>“Robinson’s my name, if that’s anny use to ye.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, Mrs. Robinson. We wish to have a word with Mr. Corbett, and +we will be much obliged if you can tell us when he is likely to return, +if he is in London.”</p> + +<p>“Arrah, it’s meself is mixed intirely about him. Sure <i>this</i> Mr. Corbett +is in London right enough, and is comin’ in to dinner in half-an-hour, +so by yer lave I’ll jist go on wid me wurruk.”</p> + +<p>“May we come in and wait for him?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Robinson surveyed them suspiciously, but seemingly decided in their +favor.</p> + +<p>“Stip in here, gintlemen both,” she said, and conducted them to the +sitting-room.</p> + +<p>A fire now burned brightly in the grate wherein Bruce had made his +pregnant discovery. The damaged bracket still stared at White, so to +speak, but he saw it not.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Robinson bustled away to the kitchen, and the two officers sat +silently waiting developments. Suddenly a thought occurred to White, and +he went into the passage.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p><p>“Mrs. Robinson,” he said, “what did you mean by referring to <i>this</i> Mr. +Corbett?”</p> + +<p>A quick step came bounding up the stairs, and a key rattled in the lock.</p> + +<p>“You’d betther ax him yerself,” responded the housekeeper pithily, and +the door opened to admit a handsome, well-knit man, tall and straight, +with the clearly cut features of the true Westerner, and the easy +carriage of one accustomed to the freedom of the prairie.</p> + +<p>He was quietly dressed. The only sign that he was not a Londoner was +given by his wide-awake felt hat, the last token of environment +relinquished by a wandering citizen from the region of the Rockies. In +the semi-darkness of the interior he could but dimly discern the form of +the detective behind the ready-tongued housekeeper.</p> + +<p>“There’s two gintlemen to see ye, Misther Corbett,” said she.</p> + +<p>“Well, now, that’s curious,” he answered cheerfully. “I can only see one +of you, but I’m glad to have you call, stranger, anyway. Come right in. +Are you sent by my friend to kinder cheer me up? I find this big city of +yours a powerful kind of tonic after Wyoming. Come right in.”</p> + +<p>Mr. White was as greatly nonplussed by the newcomer’s attitude as by his +flow of language.</p> + +<p>Within the drawing-room Corbett caught sight of the second detective. +“Hello! Here’s the other one. Ve-ry glad to meet you both. Now, if +you’ll just tell me your names we’ll get along straight away, as I guess +you know mine all right.”</p> + +<p>The man was genuinely pleased by this unexpected visit. He smilingly +pushed towards them a box of cigars, green ones, and helped himself to a +weed.</p> + +<p>“My name,” said the detective, “is Inspector White, of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>Scotland Yard, +and my friend here accompanies me officially.”</p> + +<p>“And hasn’t he got a name?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but it doesn’t matter.”</p> + +<p>“Well, if it doesn’t matter, we won’t quarrel. I guess you’ve got a +message of some sort for me, else you wouldn’t trouble to climb these +stairs. Why don’t you have el-e-vators in these big buildings?”</p> + +<p>“As I said,” began Mr. White, “we are from Scotland Yard.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so. I’ve got that fixed O.K. Your name is I. White, from +Scotland Yard. I don’t know where Scotland Yard is, but we’ll worry +along without the geography of it.”</p> + +<p>“I am in the police. My title is Inspector. It is not my Christian name. +Scotland Yard is the headquarters of the London police.”</p> + +<p>The American’s eyes opened wide in wonder at this announcement, and a +perplexing thought seemed to occur to him. But he said quietly:</p> + +<p>“I’ll figure it out better when you tell me why you’ve been good enough +to call. And suppose we all sit down. I’m not used to stone pavements. +I’m tired.”</p> + +<p>“Your name is Sydney H. Corbett?” said the detective severely, though he +took a chair.</p> + +<p>“So my people always told me.”</p> + +<p>“And you have occupied these chambers since August last?”</p> + +<p>“Have I?”</p> + +<p>“So I am informed.”</p> + +<p>“Get along with your story.”</p> + +<p>“You have just returned to England from Wyoming. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>The New York police +cabled me that you arrived in Liverpool yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“Did they now? That was real cute of ’em.”</p> + +<p>“I want to ask you, in the first instance, the exact date of your +departure from this country.”</p> + +<p>Before replying to the detective Corbett looked at him fixedly, as +though he was trying to read what was passing in his mind.</p> + +<p>At last he said with a smile:</p> + +<p>“Say, what are you after, Mr. White of Scotland Yard? What’s the game? +Who’s been fooling you?”</p> + +<p>“That is not the way to talk to me, sir. Answer my question fully and +properly, or it may be worse for you.”</p> + +<p>“Jehosh! Have you come to wipe the floor with me?”</p> + +<p>“Are you going to reply to me or not?”</p> + +<p>“I’m not going to speak square to any man who comes along and puts a +thing like you do.”</p> + +<p>“Very well. I can get my information by other means. You leave me no +alternative—”</p> + +<p>Mr. White had half risen and was about to add, “but to arrest you,” +when, with a rapidity known only to those accustomed to “draw” from +boyhood, Corbett whipped a revolver from a hip pocket and covered the +bridge of White’s nose with the muzzle.</p> + +<p>“Just you sit still, right there, Mr. White of Scotland Yard, or I will +let daylight through you and your nameless friend if he interferes. +You’d better believe me. By gad! I won’t speak twice.”</p> + +<p>Neither White nor his companion were cowards. But they were quite +helpless. They had not grappled with the circumstances with sufficient +alertness, and they were utterly at this man’s mercy. They were away +from the door, and a table separated them from Corbett, while <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>there was +that in his eye which told them he would shoot if either of them moved. +They both sprang to their feet, and glared at him impotently.</p> + +<p>“Now, gentlemen,” said Corbett, with the utmost coolness, “let me +persuade you to sit down again and go on with your story, which +interests me.”</p> + +<p>White was scarlet with wrath and annoyance.</p> + +<p>“Let me tell you—” he roared.</p> + +<p>“Sit down!”</p> + +<p>“Make the best of it, Jim,” murmured the other policeman; and the queer +gathering resumed their seats.</p> + +<p>“That’s better,” said Corbett genially. “Now, we’ll have a nice little +chat. Am I correct in supposing that you were about to march me off to +jail just now, when I spoilt the proposition?”</p> + +<p>“There’s no use in resisting,” growled White. “You cannot escape. If you +have an atom of sense left you will come with us quietly, as it’s all up +with you.”</p> + +<p>“It looks like it,” said Corbett, with a grim smile. “But if it’s so bad +a case as all that, there’s no desperate hurry, is there?”</p> + +<p>“You’re only making matters more difficult for yourself.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe. But as I happen to be a citizen of the United States, I allow +that I can’t be whipped off to prison just because a fool like you +thinks it’s good for me. I’ve been a law-abiding man all my life, and +I’ve lived in places where each man made his own law. If you can show +good cause for your action, I’ll stand the racket. At present I regard +you as a blamed idiot.”</p> + +<p>The situation overcame the detective. He could only mutter:</p> + +<p>“Time will show who’s the idiot.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p><p>“I’m getting hungry, Mr. White of Scotland Yard, and I’ve a kind of +notion that the old lady is ready with the eatables. Will you be good +enough to say what you’re after?”</p> + +<p>“I came here to ask you to account for your movements, and, failing a +satisfactory explanation, to arrest you.”</p> + +<p>“On what charge?”</p> + +<p>“For being concerned in the murder of Lady Dyke, on or about November 6 +last.”</p> + +<p>“Lady Dyke?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Arrest <i>me</i>?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I placed you right away. You are a blamed idiot, Mr. White of Scotland +Yard.”</p> + +<p>This repetition of his name and address goaded the detective almost +beyond endurance.</p> + +<p>“Now you know the charge,” he shouted, “are you coming with us quietly, +or—”</p> + +<p>“Or what?”</p> + +<p>The revolver still hovered across the table.</p> + +<p>“Are we going to sit here all night?”</p> + +<p>It was a weak conclusion, but to suggest an attack was sheer madness +under the conditions.</p> + +<p>“I guess not,” was the calm answer. “I want my dinner, and I mean to +have it.”</p> + +<p>“Very well. Eat your dinner and have done with it.”</p> + +<p>“That’s better. You and your friend shall join me. We’ll have a nice +little talk and straighten out matters, which have got kinder mixed.”</p> + +<p>This was too much for White’s associate. He burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>“I allowed there was a joke in the deal, somewhere,” <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>went on Corbett, +“but I haven’t quite got the hang of it yet. Now, Mr. White of Scotland +Yard, are you going to act like a reasonable man, or must I keep your +nose in line with the barrel?”</p> + +<p>White was saved from deciding which horn of the dilemma he would land +on, for a sharp rat-tat at the door induced silence, and a moment later +Bruce’s voice was heard inquiring:</p> + +<p>“Is Mr. Corbett in?”</p> + +<p>“Faix, there may be a half-a-dozen of him in by this time,” cried Mrs. +Robinson. “I dunno where I am, at all, at all. The gintlemen are in the +parlor, sir.”</p> + +<p>And Bruce entered.</p> + +<p>In order to enfilade the new-comer scientifically, Corbett backed to the +corner. Claude glanced at the three, saw the revolver, and said with a +comical air of relief:</p> + +<p>“Thank goodness, nothing has happened. Put away your pistol, Mr. +Corbett; you will not need it.”</p> + +<p>Although the barrister’s manner differed considerably from the brusque +methods adopted by Mr. White, the American remained on his guard. He +said stiffly:</p> + +<p>“You all seem to know me fairly well; but if you had the advantage of +closer acquaintance, you would allow that I am not the man to be rushed +on a confidence trick. If somebody doesn’t explain quick I will lose my +temper, and there will be trouble.”</p> + +<p>“I sympathize with you!” cried Bruce. “But the first thing you must +learn in this country is to keep dry cigars for your visitors. Our +respective tastes differ in that respect.”</p> + +<p>“I guess I’ll cotton to you, stranger; but I’m tired holding this +pistol.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p><p>“Put it away, then. I tell you it is not wanted. White, listen to me. +You have hit upon the wrong man.”</p> + +<p>“Wrong man!” cried the detective, feeling more confident in the +barrister’s presence. “Why, I’ve had a cable about him from New York.”</p> + +<p>“Possibly; but you’re mistaken, nevertheless. Mr. Corbett has not been +within five thousand miles of England for years, possibly not in his +life.”</p> + +<p>“Bully for you, stranger!” broke in Corbett.</p> + +<p>“Then who is Mr. Sydney H. Corbett whom you believe, as well as I, to be +the murderer of Lady Dyke?”</p> + +<p>“Steady, White. The last time I saw you I appealed to you to go slow. +The man whom you want, simply because he happens to be the real occupant +of these rooms, is at present travelling to London as fast he can from +Florence, and his sister, Mrs. Hillmer, is with him.”</p> + +<p>“Florence! Mrs. Hillmer!” gasped the policeman. “I’ve just arranged to +have her watched there.”</p> + +<p>“Your arrangements, though admirable, are somewhat late in the day.”</p> + +<p>“Then what is her brother’s name?”</p> + +<p>“Albert Mensmore. For some reason, hidden at this moment, he lived here +under the name of the gentleman who has, I see, been giving you a +practical lesson in the art of not jumping at conclusions.”</p> + +<p>“Have you known this long?”</p> + +<p>“For some weeks.”</p> + +<p>“Then why didn’t you tell me?”</p> + +<p>“Because I have no definite reason for connecting Mensmore with Lady +Dyke’s death. If I had, his action in returning to London the moment he +hears of the charge would shake my belief.”</p> + +<p>“Who told him?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p><p>“Mrs. Hillmer.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, this business is quite beyond me. I can’t fathom it a little bit.”</p> + +<p>And White sank dejectedly to his chair again.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about, gentlemen,” said Corbett, +pocketing his revolver; “but it dawns upon me that I shan’t be required +to shoot anybody or sleep in jail to-night.”</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you answer my questions properly, and save all this +nonsense?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you why, sir. The name of a friend of mine has been +mentioned. Albert Mensmore has been more than a brother to me. I allowed +you meant mischief to him, as you thought you were talking to him all +the time. I don’t know much about you, but I hope that your first action +would not be to give away your chum if he is in trouble.”</p> + +<p>The detective did not answer, though his look of astonishment at +Corbett’s declaration of motive was eloquent enough.</p> + +<p>“Before we quit this business,” went on the American, “let me say one +thing. Any man who tells you that Albert Mensmore murdered a woman is +telling you a lie. I don’t know anything about this Lady Dyke, or how +she may have died, but I do know my friend. He’s good in a tight place, +but, to think of him killing a woman—Jehosh, it’s sickening.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Robinson burst in, with face aflame.</p> + +<p>“Is this palaverin’ to go on all night?” she demanded angrily. “Here’s +the dinner sphilin’, after all me worry and bother, with the head of me +vexed to know who is the masther and who ishn’t.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p><p>“All right, mother,” laughed Corbett. “Bring in the whole caboodle.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Corbett,” said Bruce, “I hope you will come and have lunch with me +to-morrow, at this address,” handing him a card. “I want to have a long +talk with you. Mr. White, if you come with me I will explain a good deal +to you of which you are now in ignorance.”</p> + +<p>“Surely, Mr. Corbett will answer a few questions first,” said the +detective.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you think you have troubled him sufficiently for this evening? +Besides, he can tell us nothing. All the explanation is really due to +him, and I propose to give it to him to-morrow. Come, White, this time I +promise you that a considerable portion of your inquiry shall be cleared +up, and I do not speak without foundation, as you have often learned +hitherto.”</p> + +<p>So the mysterious Sydney H. Corbett was left in undisturbed possession +of his flat and his dinner, while the trio passed out into the quietude +of the streets.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h3> + +<h2>HOW LADY DYKE LEFT RALEIGH MANSIONS</h2> + +<p>Mr. White was actually inclined to preserve silence while they walked to +Victoria Street. The events of the preceding hour had not exactly +conduced to the maintenance, in the eyes of his brother officer, of that +pre-eminent sagacity which he invariably claimed.</p> + +<p>His companion rubbed in this phase of the matter by saying: “I should +think, Jim, you will give Raleigh Mansions wide berth for some time to +come, after making two bad breaks there.”</p> + +<p>But it was no part of Bruce’s scheme that the detective should be +rendered desperate by repeated failures. “It is not Mr. White’s fault,” +he said, “that these errors have occurred. They are rather the result of +his pertinacity in leaving no clue unsolved which promises to lead to +success. When this case ends, if ever it does end, I feel sure he will +admit that he has never before encountered so much difficulty in +unravelling the most complex problems within his experience.”</p> + +<p>“That is so,” chimed in the senior detective. “The thing that beats me +in this affair is the want of a beginning, so to speak. One would +imagine it the work of a lunatic if Lady Dyke herself had not +contributed so curiously to the mystery of her disappearance.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p><p>“There you are, White; that is the true scent. Find the motive and we +find the murderer, if Lady Dyke was wilfully put to death.”</p> + +<p>“<i>If</i> she was, Mr. Bruce? Have you any doubt about it?”</p> + +<p>“There cannot be certainty when we are groping in the dark. But the +gloom is passing; we are on the eve of a discovery.”</p> + +<p>At Bruce’s residence White’s colleague left him. Soon the barrister and +the policeman were sitting snugly before a good fire.</p> + +<p>There Claude took him step by step through each branch of his inquiry as +it is known to the reader.</p> + +<p>He omitted nothing. The discovery of Jane Harding and of Mensmore, the +latter’s transactions with Dodge & Co., his dramatic <i>coup</i> at Monte +Carlo and its attendant love episode—all these were exhaustively +described. He enlarged upon Mrs. Hillmer’s anxiety when the tragedy +became known to her, and did not forget Sir Charles Dyke’s amazement at +the suggestion that his old playmate might prove to be responsible for +the death of his wife.</p> + +<p>He produced the waxen moulds of the piece of iron found on the body at +Putney, and the ornamental scroll from which it had been taken.</p> + +<p>At this bit of evidence Mr. White’s complacency forsook him. Thus far he +had experienced a feeling of resentment against Bruce for having +concealed from him so much that was material to their investigation.</p> + +<p>But when he realized that a powerful link in the chain of events had all +along been placidly resting before his eyes his distress was evident, +and the barrister came to his rescue.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p><p>“You are not to blame, White,” he said, “for having failed to note many +things which I have now told you. You are the slave of a system. Your +method works admirably for the detection of commonplace crime, but as +soon as the higher region of romance is reached it is as much out of +place as a steam-roller in a lady’s boudoir. Look at the remarkable +series of crimes the English police have failed to solve of late, merely +because some <i>bizarre</i> element had intruded itself at the outset. Have +you ever read any of the works of Edgar Allan Poe?”</p> + +<p>The detective answered in the affirmative. “The Murders of the Rue +Morgue” and “The Mystery of Marie Roget” were familiar to him.</p> + +<p>“Well,” went on Bruce, “there you have the accurate samples of my +meaning. Poe would not have been puzzled for an hour by the vagaries of +Jack the Ripper. He would have said at once—most certainly after the +third or fourth in the series of murders—‘This is the work of an +athletic lunatic, with a morbid love of anatomy and a morbid hatred of a +certain class of women. Seek for him among young men who have pestered +doctors with outrageous theories, and who possess weak-minded or +imbecile relatives.’ Then, again, take the murder on the South-Western +Railway. Do you think Poe would have gone questioning bar-tenders or +inquiring into abortive love affairs? Not he! Jealous swains do not +carry pestles about with them to slay their sweethearts, nor do they +choose a four-minutes’ interval between suburban stations for frenzied +avowals of their passion. Here you have the clear trail of a clever +lunatic, dropping from the skies, as it were, and disappearing in the +same erratic manner. That is why I tell you most emphatically that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>neither you nor I have yet the remotest conception as to who really +killed Lady Dyke.”</p> + +<p>“Surely things look black now against this Mensmore?”</p> + +<p>“Do they? How would it have fared with an acquaintance of one of the +unfortunate women killed by Jack the Ripper had the police found him in +the locality with fresh blood-stains on his clothes? What would have +resulted from the discovery of a chemist’s mortar among the possessions +of one of Elizabeth Camp’s male friends? Come now, be honest, and tell +me.”</p> + +<p>But Mr. White could only smoke in silence.</p> + +<p>“Therefore,” continued Bruce, “let us ask ourselves why, and how, it was +possible for Mensmore to commit the crime. Personally, notwithstanding +all that we apparently know against him circumstantially, I should +hardly believe Mensmore if he confessed himself to be the murderer!”</p> + +<p>“Now, why on earth do you say that, Mr. Bruce?”</p> + +<p>“Because Mensmore is normal and this crime abnormal. Because the man who +would blow out his brains on account of losses at pigeon-shooting never +had brains enough to dispose of the body in such fashion. Because +Mensmore, having temporarily changed his name for some trivial reason, +would never resume it with equal triviality with this shadow upon his +life.”</p> + +<p>“Then why have you told me all these things that tell so heavily against +him?”</p> + +<p>“In order that, this time at least, you may feel that the production of +a pair of handcuffs does not satisfactorily settle the entire business.”</p> + +<p>“I promise there shall be no more arrests until this affair is much more +decided than it is at present.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p><p>“Good. I shall make a detective of you after my own heart in time.”</p> + +<p>“Yet I cannot help being surprised at the very strange fact that his own +sister should seem to suspect him!”</p> + +<p>“Ah! Now you have struck the true line. Why did she have that fear? +There I am with you entirely. Let us ascertain that and I promise you an +important development. Mrs. Hillmer and Mensmore are both concerned in +the disappearance of Lady Dyke, yet neither knew that she had +disappeared, and both are deeply upset by it, for Mrs. Hillmer flies off +to warn her brother, and the brother posts back to London the moment it +comes to his ears through her. There, you see, we have a key which may +unlock many doors. For Heaven’s sake let it not be battered out of shape +the instant it reaches our hands.”</p> + +<p>But Mr. White was quite humble. “As I have told you,” he said, “I have +done with the battering process.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure of it. And now listen to the most remarkable fact that has +yet come to light. Lady Dyke’s body was taken from Raleigh Mansions to +Putney in a four-wheeler. The cabman was forthwith locked up by the +police and clapped into prison for three months. He was released +yesterday, and will be here within the next quarter of an hour.”</p> + +<p>The detective’s hair nearly rose on end at this statement.</p> + +<p>“Look here, Mr. Bruce!” he cried, “have you any more startlers up your +sleeve, or is that the finish?”</p> + +<p>“That is the last shot in my locker.”</p> + +<p>“I’m jolly glad! I half expected the next thing you would say was that +you did the job yourself.”</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t be the first time you thought that; eh, my friend?”</p> + +<p>White positively blushed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p><p>“Oh! that’s chaff,” he said. “But why the dickens did the police lock up +this cabman—the only witness we could lay our hands upon? Why, I myself +questioned every cabman in the vicinity several times.”</p> + +<p>“Because he got drunk on the proceeds of the journey, and subsequently +thought he was Phaeton driving the chariot of the sun. But, there, he +will tell you himself. I met him yesterday morning outside Holloway +Jail, and persuaded him to come here to-night, provided he has not gone +on the spree again with disastrous results.”</p> + +<p>The entrance of Smith—obviously relieved to see his master and the +“tec” on such good terms—to announce the arrival of “Mr. William +Marsh,” settled any doubts as to the cabman’s intentions, and his +appearance established the fact of his sobriety. Three months “hard” had +made the cab-driver a new man.</p> + +<p>Recognition was mutual between him and Mr. White.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Foxey,” cried the latter. “It’s you, is it?”</p> + +<p>“Me it is, guv’nor; but I didn’t know there was to be a ‘cop’ +here”—this with a suspicious glance at Bruce and a backward movement +towards the door.</p> + +<p>“Do not be alarmed,” said the barrister; “this gentleman’s presence +implies no trouble for you. We want you to help us, and if you do so +willingly I will make up that lost fiver you received for driving two +people to Putney the night you were arrested.”</p> + +<p>The poor old cabman became very confused on hearing this staggering +remark. Up to that moment he regarded Bruce as the agent for a +charitable association, and there was no harm, he told his “missus,” in +trying to “knock him for a bit.”</p> + +<p>He stood nervously fumbling with his hat, but did not answer. White knew +how to deal with him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p><p>“Sit down, Foxey, and have a drink. You need one to cheer you up. Answer +this gentleman’s questions. He means you no harm.”</p> + +<p>“Honor bright?”</p> + +<p>“Honor bright.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t mind if I do. No soda, thank you, sir. Just a small drop +of water. Ah, that’s better stuff ’n they keep in Holloway.”</p> + +<p>Thus fortified, Marsh had no hesitation in telling them what he knew. +Substantially, his story was identical with the version given to Bruce +by the ticket collector.</p> + +<p>“Can you describe the gentleman?” said the barrister.</p> + +<p>“No, sir. He was just like any other swell. Tall and well-dressed, and +talked in the ’aw-’aw style. It might ha’ been yerself for all I could +tell.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think it was I?”</p> + +<p>Foxey scratched his head.</p> + +<p>“No, p’r’aps it wasn’t, now I come to rec’llect. He ’ad a moustache, and +you ’aven’t. Beggin’ yer pardon, sir, but you ’ave a bit of the cut of a +parson or a hactor, an’ this chap wasn’t neither—just an every-day sort +of toff.”</p> + +<p>“Could you swear to him if you saw him?”</p> + +<p>“That I couldn’t, sir. I am a rare ’and at langwidge, but I couldn’t +manage that.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“Because that night, sir, I were as full as a tick when I started. Lord +love you, it must ’ave poured out of me afterwards when I started +fightin’ coppers. Mr. White, ’e knows, I ain’t no fightin’ man as a +rule.”</p> + +<p>“And the <i>lady</i>? Did you see her?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. Leastways, I seed a bundle which I took to be a lydy, but her +face was covered up with a shawl, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>she was lyin’ ’eavy in ’is arms +as though she was mortal bad. He tell’d me she was sick.”</p> + +<p>“Did he? Anything else?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Are you sure it was a shawl?”</p> + +<p>A vacuous smile spread over Foxey’s countenance as he answered, “I ain’t +sure of anythink that ’appened that night.”</p> + +<p>“But were you not surprised when a man hired your cab under such +peculiar circumstances, and paid you such a high fare?”</p> + +<p>“We four-wheelers are surprised at nothink, sir. You don’t know all wot +goes on in kebs. Why, once crossin’ Waterloo Bridge—”</p> + +<p>“Never mind Waterloo Bridge, Foxey,” put in the detective. “Keep your +wits fixed on as much as you can remember of November 6.”</p> + +<p>“Where did he tell you to drive to?” went on Bruce.</p> + +<p>“Just Putney. I was to drive my’ardest. I recollect wantin’ to pull up +at the Three Bells, but ’e put ’is ’ead out an’ said, ‘Go on, driver. I +am awfully late already.’ So on I went.”</p> + +<p>“Where did you stop?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know no more than the child unborn. By that time the drink was +yeastin’ up in me. The fare kept me on the road ’e wanted by shoutin’. +When we pulled up, ’e carries ’er into a lane. There was a big ’ouse +there. I know that all right. After a bit ’e comes back and tips me a +fiver. With that I whips up the old ’oss and gets back to the Three +Bells. You know the rest, as the girl said when she axed the Bench to—”</p> + +<p>“Yes, we know the rest,” interrupted Bruce, “but I fear you are not able +to help us much.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p><p>“This isn’t a five-pun’ job, eh, guv’nor?” said Foxey anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Hardly at present. We shall see. Can you say exactly where you drew up +your cab when the lady was carried into it?”</p> + +<p>“Sure as death,” replied the cabman, in the hope that his information +might yet be valuable. “It was outside Raleigh Mansions, Sloane Square.”</p> + +<p>“We know that—”</p> + +<p>“It seems to me, sir, as ye know as much about the business as I do,” +broke in Marsh.</p> + +<p>“Were you in the Square or in Sloane Street?”</p> + +<p>“In Sloane Street, of course. Right away from the Square.”</p> + +<p>“Not so very far away, surely.”</p> + +<p>Foxey was doubtful. His memory was hazy, and he feared lest he should be +mistaken. “No, no,” he said quickly, “not far, but still well in the +street.”</p> + +<p>“Were there many people about?”</p> + +<p>“You could ’ardly tell, sir; it was that foggy and nasty. If the lydy +’ad bin dead nobody would ’ave noticed ’er that night.”</p> + +<p>“Did any one besides yourself see the gentleman carrying the lady into +the cab?”</p> + +<p>“I think not. I don’t remember anybody passin’ at the time.”</p> + +<p>“Did the gentleman keep your cab waiting long at the kerb before he +brought the lady out?”</p> + +<p>“It might ’a’ bin a minute or two?”</p> + +<p>“No longer?”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, it’s ’ard for me to say, especially after bein’ away for a +change of ’ealth, so to speak.”</p> + +<p>“Did not the lady speak or move in any manner?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p><p>“Not so far as I know, sir.”</p> + +<p>“And do you mean to tell me that, although you had been drinking, you +were not astonished at the whole business?”</p> + +<p>“I never axes my fares any questions ’cept when they says ‘By the hour.’ +Then I wants to know a bit.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but this carrying of a lady out of a house in such fashion—did +not this strike you as strange?”</p> + +<p>“Strange, bless your ’eart, sir. You ought to see me cartin’ ’em off +from the Daffodil Club after a big night—three and four in one keb, all +blind, paralytic.”</p> + +<p>“No doubt; but this was not the Daffodil Club at daybreak. It was a +respectable neighborhood at seven o’clock, or thereabouts, on a winter’s +evening.”</p> + +<p>“It ain’t my fault,” said Foxey doggedly. “Wot was wrong with the lydy? +Was it a habduction?”</p> + +<p>“The lady was dead—murdered, we believe.”</p> + +<p>The cabman’s face grew livid with anxiety.</p> + +<p>“Oh, crikey, Mr. White,” he cried, addressing the detective, “I knew +nothink about it.”</p> + +<p>“No one says you did, Foxey,” was the reply. “Don’t be frightened. We +just want you to help us as far as you can, and not to get skeered and +lose your wits.”</p> + +<p>Thus reassured, Marsh mopped his head and said solemnly:</p> + +<p>“I will do wot lies in my power, gentlemen both, but I wish I ’adn’t bin +so blamed drunk that night.”</p> + +<p>“You say you would not recognize your fare if you saw him,” continued +Bruce. “Could you tell us, if you were shown a certain person, that he +was <i>not</i> the man? You might not be sure of the right man, but you might +be sure regarding the wrong one.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. It wasn’t you, and it wasn’t Mr. White, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>it wasn’t a lot +of other people I know. I think if I saw the man who really got into my +keb, I would be able to swear that ’e was like him, at any rate.”</p> + +<p>“All right. That will do for the present. Leave us your address, so that +we may find you again if necessary. Here is a sovereign for you.”</p> + +<p>When Marsh had gone, Bruce turned to the detective.</p> + +<p>“Well,” he said, “if Mensmore were here now, I suppose you would want to +lock him up.”</p> + +<p>“No,” admitted White sadly; “the more I learn about this affair the more +mixed it becomes. Still, I don’t deny but I shall be glad to have +Mensmore’s explanation of his movements at that time. And so will you, +Mr. Bruce.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h3> + +<h2>A WILFUL MURDER</h2> + +<p>Bruce sent a telegram to Mrs. Hillmer at Paris. “Matters satisfactorily +arranged pending your arrival,” he wired, and early on Monday morning he +received a reply:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Due Charing Cross 7.30 <small>P.M.</small> Will drive straight to your +chambers with my brother.</p> + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 1.5em;">“<span class="smcap">Gwendoline Hillmer.</span>”</span></p></div> + +<p>He forwarded the message with a note to the detective, asking him to be +present.</p> + +<p>About one o’clock Corbett turned up.</p> + +<p>“Guess I slept well last night after the excitement,” he said, with a +pleasant smile. “You seemed to skeer those chaps more with a few words, +Mr. Bruce, than I did with a revolver.”</p> + +<p>“The English police are not so much afraid of revolvers as they are of +making mistakes,” was the answer.</p> + +<p>“Now, is that so? On our side they wouldn’t have stopped to argy. Both +of ’em would have drawn on me at once.”</p> + +<p>“Then I am glad, for everybody’s sake, Mr. Corbett, that the affair +happened in London.”</p> + +<p>“Why, sure. But tell me. Has my friend Mensmore been getting himself +into trouble?”</p> + +<p>“Not so much as it looks. Others appear to have involved <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>him without +his knowledge, and he has lent color to the accusations by involuntary +actions of a suspicious nature.”</p> + +<p>“Well, if it is permissible, I should like to hear the straight story.”</p> + +<p>Under the circumstances, Bruce thought that this stranger from America +had a right to know why he was in danger of being arrested during his +first twenty-four hours’ residence in the country, so he gave him a +succinct narrative of the <i>prima facie</i> case against Mensmore.</p> + +<p>Corbett listened in silence to the recital. When it ended he said:</p> + +<p>“Mr. Bruce, my friend was incapable of murdering any woman. He was +equally incapable of conducting any discreditable <i>liaison</i> with any +woman. I have known him for years, and a straighter, truer, more +honorable man I never met. I don’t know what his reason was for assuming +my name, which he undoubtedly did, as the agent called this morning, and +I find the flat is taken in my name.”</p> + +<p>“What did you say?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, just that Mensmore had acted for me. The man seemed a bit puzzled, +but he didn’t kick when I offered to pay up the rent owing since +Christmas, and another quarter in advance.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t suppose he did. The rent was due, then?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. It seems that Mensmore, writing in my name, sent a letter from +Monte Carlo a month ago, saying he would return about this time and +settle up.”</p> + +<p>“Thus proving his intention all along to come back to London. It is a +queer muddle, Mr. Corbett, is it not?”</p> + +<p>“Very; but you will pardon me, as an outsider, saying one thing—you all +appear to have overlooked a clear trail.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p><p>“And what is that?”</p> + +<p>“What about Mrs. Hillmer? Who is she? Who are her friends? Who maintains +her in such style? Bertie was with me four years and never mentioned her +name. She could not have been rich by inheritance, as it was on account +of their father going broke that Mensmore had to leave the Army and come +to the States. It strikes me, Mr. Bruce, that the woman knows more about +this affair than the man.”</p> + +<p>“You may be right. But do not forget the absolute proofs we possess that +the crime occurred in Mensmore’s chambers, and the extraordinary +coincidence that he left England immediately afterwards.”</p> + +<p>“I am not forgetting anything. Those facts tell both ways. Just because +he quitted the country at the time somebody may have tried to throw the +blame on him.”</p> + +<p>The theory was plausible, though Bruce could not accept it. +Nevertheless, after Corbett had taken his departure he could not help +thinking about his references to Mrs. Hillmer. That there was force in +them he could not deny, and with the admission came the unpleasant +thought that perhaps he, Bruce, was in some sense responsible for the +neglect to clear up her antecedents.</p> + +<p>However, a few hours might explain much.</p> + +<p>With unwonted impatience the barrister awaited the coming of night. He +tried every expedient to kill time, and found each operation tedious.</p> + +<p>He dined early, and as half-past seven came and passed he wondered why +the detective did not appear.</p> + +<p>But his doubts on this point did not last long.</p> + +<p>“White is looking at Charing Cross to make sure of their arrival,” he +said to himself.</p> + +<p>At ten minutes to eight the detective came in hurriedly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p><p>“They will be here directly,” he announced. “A servant has taken their +luggage to Mrs. Hillmer’s place, and they are evidently driving straight +here after taking some refreshment at the station.”</p> + +<p>“Have you no faith in human nature, Mr. White? Could you not trust their +words?”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, my experience of human nature is that you can very seldom +trust anybody’s word.”</p> + +<p>At last Smith announced Mrs. Hillmer and Mr. Mensmore.</p> + +<p>When they entered Bruce was for the moment at a loss to know exactly how +to receive them.</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Hillmer settled the matter by greeting him with a quiet +“Good-evening,” and seating herself. Mensmore stood near the door, very +pale and stern-looking.</p> + +<p>“It appears, Mr. Bruce,” he said, “that we met in Monte Carlo under +false pretences. You were, it seems, a detective on the track of a +murderer, and you were good enough to believe that I was the person you +sought. It would have saved some misconception on my part had you +explained our <i>rôles</i> earlier. However, I am here, to meet the charge.”</p> + +<p>Claude was not unprepared for this attitude on Mensmore’s part. But he +was determined that it should not continue if he could help it.</p> + +<p>“When we parted at Monte Carlo, Mensmore,” he said, “we parted as +friends.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then tell me what has happened since to cause this obvious change in +your opinion of me?”</p> + +<p>“Is it not true that you suspect me of murdering Lady Dyke?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p><p>“But why has my sister been told that I ran serious risk of being +apprehended on that account?”</p> + +<p>“Because we certainly did suspect a mysterious personage who called +himself Sydney H. Corbett, and whose behavior was so unaccountable that +the authorities required a reasonable explanation of it.”</p> + +<p>“Do I understand, Bruce, that we meet with no more suspicion between us +than when we last saw each other?”</p> + +<p>“Most certainly.”</p> + +<p>“Then I ask your pardon for my manner and words. I have suffered keenly +during the last three days from this cruel thought. Let us shake hands +on it.”</p> + +<p>As their hands met they both heard Mrs. Hillmer stifle a sob. Mensmore +turned to her.</p> + +<p>“Now, Gwen,” he said, “don’t be foolish. We will soon clear up this +miserable business. So far as we are concerned, all we need to do is to +tell the truth and fear nobody.”</p> + +<p>“That’s it,” said White. “If you adopt that course the matter will soon +be ended.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore turned to the speaker. He guessed his identity, but Bruce +introduced the detective by name.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Mensmore, “I have come here to answer questions. What is it +you want to know?”</p> + +<p>Mr. White glanced at the barrister, and the other explained.</p> + +<p>“I have, as you may already realize, taken more than a passive interest +in this inquiry, so the questioning largely devolves on me. First, tell +me why you adopted the name of Corbett?”</p> + +<p>“Simply enough, though stupid, I now admit. When I returned from the +States I was very hard up, but managed to pick up a subsistence by +writing for the sporting press, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>and occasionally backing horses. But I +knew this could not last, so I tried to secure some financial interests +in the City. In doing so I made the acquaintance of a man named Dodge, +and committed myself to the underwriting of a new venture named the +Springbok Mine. This fell through at the time, and with this collapse +came other demands. I hate being worried by creditors, so when my sister +offered to take and furnish a flat for me, near her own, I thought I +would live quietly for a time and conceal my name so as to have peace +there at any rate. Therefore, I assumed the name of a friend in America, +little thinking that I should land both him and myself into such trouble +by doing it. That is the explanation. By the way, what has happened to +Corbett?”</p> + +<p>“He is all right. He expects to see you to-night. You know Sir Charles +Dyke, do you not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Intimately?”</p> + +<p>“Well, no, not exactly. He and I were at school together at Brighton, at +Childe’s place.”</p> + +<p>“At Brighton?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I was a little chap when Dyke was a senior. After he left, the +headmaster changed the school to a place called Seton Lodge, at Putney, +on account of cramming operations for Army exams.”</p> + +<p>“Then you were at Putney?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, for two years.”</p> + +<p>“And Dyke was not?”</p> + +<p>“No; that I am sure of.”</p> + +<p>“Have you and Sir Charles been friendly since?”</p> + +<p>Mensmore’s face hardened somewhat as he answered, “I have seen very +little of him, and hardly ever spoken to him.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p><p>“Why? Did you quarrel?”</p> + +<p>“N-no, but we just did not happen to meet. Bear in mind, I was in +business some years ago, and I am not yet thirty.”</p> + +<p>“Did you know his wife?”</p> + +<p>“I have never, to my knowledge, seen her.”</p> + +<p>“How, then, can you account for the fact that she visited your flat at +Raleigh Mansions on November 6.”</p> + +<p>“I say that such a statement is mere nonsense.”</p> + +<p>“But if it can be proved?”</p> + +<p>“It cannot.”</p> + +<p>“I assure you, on my honor, that it can.”</p> + +<p>“But look here, Bruce. Why should she come to see me? I question greatly +if she knew of my existence.”</p> + +<p>“Nevertheless, it is the fact.”</p> + +<p>“I can only tell you it is not. I left London on November 8, and on the +two previous evenings I dined alone. Mrs. Robinson, my housekeeper, can +tell you that not another soul entered my flat for a week prior to my +departure, except my sister and—and—I had forgotten—some workmen.”</p> + +<p>“Some workmen?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; some fellows from a furniture warehouse.”</p> + +<p>“What were they doing?”</p> + +<p>“Well, don’t you see, I told you I was not well off, and my sister +furnished my flat for me, in August last that was, but the drawing-room +was left bare for a time. Just before I left for France she decided to +refurnish her drawing-room, and she gave me the whole fit-out. The +things were brought in by the men who brought her purchases.”</p> + +<p>At this astounding revelation Bruce and the detective were utterly taken +aback. It was with difficulty that the barrister enunciated his next +words clearly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p><p>“Can you tell me with absolute certainty the date of this change of the +furniture?”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes. It was the day before I started for the Riviera; that must have +been November 7.”</p> + +<p>“Are you positive of this?”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly. Is it a matter of importance? Gwen, you know all about it. +Besides, the bills for your new furniture will show the exact date of +delivery, and it was the same day.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer’s face was hidden by her veil, but she nodded silently.</p> + +<p>Three people in the room knew the significance of Mensmore’s +straightforward words; he alone was unaware of the direction towards +which the investigation now tended.</p> + +<p>“Let us analyze the matter carefully,” said Bruce, who had recovered his +self-possession, though he was almost terrified at the possibilities of +the situation. “Did the whole of the contents of your drawing-room come +from your sister’s flat?”</p> + +<p>“Every stick. There was nothing there before but the bare boards.”</p> + +<p>“Do you remember a handsome ornamental fender being among these +articles?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly. My housekeeper said the men broke it during the transit. +They denied this, and looked for the piece chipped off, but could not +find it. She told me about it that night.”</p> + +<p>“Did you mention it to Mrs. Hillmer?”</p> + +<p>“No. To tell the honest truth, Gwen and I had quarrelled a couple of +days before. That is to say, we disagreed seriously about a certain +matter, and it was this which led to my making off to Monte Carlo. +Therefore <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>it was hardly likely I should mention such a trivial matter +to her.”</p> + +<p>“May I ask what you quarrelled about?”</p> + +<p>“I have told her since that it ought to be made known, but she has +implored me not to reveal it, so I cannot. But she will tell you herself +that we agreed I should be at liberty to make this guarded explanation.”</p> + +<p>Bruce and the detective exchanged glances of wondering comprehension.</p> + +<p>“I do not think we need question Mr. Mensmore further,” said the +barrister to White.</p> + +<p>“No,” was the reply. “The matter is clear enough. Mrs. Hillmer must tell +us how that furniture came to be transferred from her premises on the +morning of the 7th.”</p> + +<p>“If she chooses.”</p> + +<p>The barrister’s tone was sad, and its ominous significance was not lost +on his hearers.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer raised her veil. Her face was deathly pale and tense in its +fixed agony. But in her eyes was a light which gave a curious aspect of +resolve to her otherwise painful aspect of utter grief.</p> + +<p>“I do not choose,” she said quietly, looking, not at Bruce or the +detective, but at her brother.</p> + +<p>For a little while no one spoke. Mensmore at last broke out eagerly:</p> + +<p>“Don’t act absurdly, Gwen. I cannot even guess where all this talk about +the furniture is leading us, but I do know that you are as innocent of +any complicity in Lady Dyke’s death as I am, so it is better for you to +help forward the inquiry than to retard it.”</p> + +<p>“I am not innocent,” said Mrs. Hillmer, her words falling with painful +distinctness upon the ears of the three men. “Heaven help me! I am +responsible for it!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p><p>Her brother started to his feet, and caught her by the shoulder.</p> + +<p>“What folly is this,” he cried. “Do you know what you are saying?”</p> + +<p>“Fully. My words are like sledge-hammers. I will forever feel their +weight. I tell you I am responsible for the death of Lady Dyke.”</p> + +<p>“Then how did she die, Mrs. Hillmer?” said Bruce, whose glance sought to +read her soul.</p> + +<p>“I do not know. I do not want to know. It matters little to me.”</p> + +<p>“In other words, you are assuming a responsibility you should not bear. +You were not even aware of this poor lady’s death until I told you. Why +should you seek to avert suspicion from others merely because Lady Dyke +is shown to have met her death in your apartments?”</p> + +<p>“But how is it shown?” interrupted Mensmore vehemently. He was more +disturbed by his sister’s unaccountable attitude than he had ever been +by the serious charge against himself.</p> + +<p>“Easily enough,” said White, feeling that he ought to have some share in +the conversation. “A piece of the damaged fender placed in your rooms, +Mr. Mensmore, was found in the murdered lady’s head.”</p> + +<p>“Was it?” he cried. “Then, by Heaven, I refuse to see my sister +sacrificed for anybody’s sake. She has borne too long the whole burden +of misery and degradation. I tell you, Gwen, that if you do not save +yourself I will save you against your will. That furniture came to my +room because—”</p> + +<p>“Bertie, I beseech you, for the sake of the woman you love, to spare +me.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer flung herself on her knees before him and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>caught hold of +his hands, while she burst into a storm of tears.</p> + +<p>Mensmore was unnerved. He turned to Bruce, and said:</p> + +<p>“Help me in this miserable business, old chap. I don’t know what to say +or do; my sister had no more connection with Lady Dyke’s death than I +had. This statement on her part is mere hysteria, arising from other +circumstances altogether.”</p> + +<p>“That I feel acutely,” said the barrister. “Yet some one killed her, +and, whatever the pain that may be caused, and whoever may suffer, I am +determined that the truth shall come out.”</p> + +<p>“I tell you,” wailed Mrs. Hillmer between her sobs, “that I must bear +all the blame. Why do you hesitate? She was killed in my house, and I +confess my guilt.”</p> + +<p>“This <i>is</i> rum business,” growled Mr. White aloud, half unconsciously.</p> + +<p>At that moment the door opened unexpectedly, and Smith entered.</p> + +<p>Before Bruce had time to vociferate an order to his astounded servitor +the man stuttered an excuse:</p> + +<p>“Beg pardon, sir,” he said, “but Sir Charles Dyke has called, and wants +to know if you will be disengaged soon.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h3> + +<h2>THE LETTER</h2> + +<p>Quick on the heels of the footman’s stammered explanation came the voice +of Sir Charles himself:</p> + +<p>“Sorry to disturb you, Bruce, if you are busy, but I must see you for a +moment on a matter of the utmost importance.”</p> + +<p>There was that in his utterance which betokened great excitement. He was +not visible to the occupants of the room. During the audible silence +that followed his words, they could hear him stamping about the passage, +impatiently awaiting Bruce’s presence.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer quietly collapsed on the floor. She had fainted.</p> + +<p>The barrister rushed out, calling for Mrs. Smith, and responding to Sir +Charles Dyke’s proffered statement as to the reason for his presence by +the startling cry:</p> + +<p>“Wait a bit, Dyke. There’s a lady in a faint inside. We must attend to +her at once.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Smith, fortunately, was at hand, and with the help of her +ministrations, Mrs. Hillmer gradually regained her senses.</p> + +<p>After a whispered colloquy with White, the barrister said to Mensmore:</p> + +<p>“You must remove your sister to her residence as quickly as possible. +She is far too highly strung to bear any further <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>questioning to-night. +Perhaps to-morrow, when you and she have discussed matters fully +together, you may be able to send for us and clear up this wretched +business.”</p> + +<p>For answer Mensmore silently pressed his hand. With the help of the +housekeeper he led his sister from the room, passing Sir Charles Dyke in +the hall. The baronet politely turned aside, and Mensmore did not look +at him, being far too engrossed with his sister to pay heed to aught +else at the moment. As for Mrs. Hillmer, she was in such a state of +collapse as to be practically unconscious of her surroundings.</p> + +<p>She managed to murmur at the door:</p> + +<p>“Where are you taking me to, Bertie?”</p> + +<p>“Home, dear.”</p> + +<p>“Home? Oh, thank Heaven!”</p> + +<p>They all heard her, and even the detective was constrained to say:</p> + +<p>“Poor thing, she needn’t have been afraid. She is suffering for some one +else.”</p> + +<p>Sir Charles Dyke grasped Bruce’s arm.</p> + +<p>“What on earth is going on?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Merely a foolish woman worrying herself about others,” replied Bruce +grimly.</p> + +<p>“But those people were my old friends, Mensmore and his sister?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“What are they doing here?”</p> + +<p>“Mensmore has been brought back to London by Mrs. Hillmer to face the +allegations made against him with regard to your wife’s disappearance. +They came here by their own appointment, and—”</p> + +<p>“Did I not tell you that this charge against Mensmore was wild folly on +the face of it?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p><p>“So it seems, when we have just discovered that your wife was killed in +his sister’s house, and Mrs. Hillmer persists in declaring that she was +responsible for the crime.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, Bruce. Don’t lose your head like everybody else mixed up in +this wretched business. My wife is not dead.”</p> + +<p>“What!” The cry was a double one, for both Bruce and White gave +simultaneous utterance to their amazement.</p> + +<p>“It is true. She is alive all the time. I have had a letter from her.”</p> + +<p>“A letter. Surely, Dyke—”</p> + +<p>“I am neither mad nor drunk. The letter reached me by this morning’s +post. I came here with it as fast as I could travel. I have been in the +train all day, and am nearly fainting from hunger.”</p> + +<p>“Where is it?” cried White. “Is it genuine?”</p> + +<p>“I could swear to her writing amidst a thousand letters. Here it is. I +have brought some old correspondence of hers for the purpose of +comparison, as I could hardly believe my eyes when I first received it.”</p> + +<p>Bruce was so dumfounded by this remarkable development that he could but +mutely take the document produced by the baronet and read it.</p> + +<p>He himself recognized Lady Dyke’s handwriting, which he had often +seen—a clear, bold, well-defined script, more like the caligraphy of a +banker than of a fashionable lady.</p> + +<p>The letter was dated February 1, bore no other superscription, and read +as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“<i>My Dear Charles</i>,—I have just seen in the newspapers the +announcement of my death, and the theories set on <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>foot to +account for my disappearance on November 6. This seems to +convey to me the strange fact that you have not received the +explanation I sent you of my reasons for leaving London so +suddenly. Otherwise you must have kept your own counsel very +closely. However, I do not now desire to reopen the question of +motive; let it suffice to say that no one save myself was +responsible for my disappearance, and that neither you nor any +one acquainted with me will ever see me again. Do not search +for me; it will be time wasted. If you have legal proof of my +death and wish to marry again, be satisfied. Tear up this +letter and forget it. I am dead—to you and to the world. You +can neither refuse to accept the genuineness of this letter nor +trace me by reason of it, as I have taken such precautions that +the latter course will be impossible. Let me repeat—forget me.</p> + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 1.5em;">“<span class="smcap">Alice.</span>”</span></p></div> + +<p>The barrister carefully refolded the sheet after scrutinizing the +water-mark against the light, and noting that the paper was British +made; he then examined the envelope. The obliterating postmark was +“London, February 4, 9 <small>P.M.</small>, West Strand.” The office of delivery was +“Wensley, February 6.”</p> + +<p>“Posted at the West Strand Post-Office on Saturday,” he said. “Detained +in London all Sunday, and delivered to you this morning in the North.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly.”</p> + +<p>“It was written three days earlier, if the date be accurate. So the +writer is somewhere in Europe.”</p> + +<p>“That’s how I take it,” said Sir Charles.</p> + +<p>“Unless the whole thing is a fraud.”</p> + +<p>“How can it be a fraud? I am sure as to the handwriting. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>Why, even +yourself, Bruce, must have a good recollection of my wife’s style.”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly. No man born could swear that this was not Lady Dyke’s +production.”</p> + +<p>“Well, what are we to do?”</p> + +<p>“And what did Mrs. Hillmer mean by kicking up that fuss when we spoke to +her?” interpolated White. “I’ll take my oath that some one was killed in +her house, else how comes it that a woman found in the Thames at Putney +is carrying about in her head some of Mrs. Hillmer’s ironwork? I wish +she hadn’t fainted just now. Why, she said herself that she was the +cause of Lady Dyke’s death, and here is Lady Dyke writing to say she is +alive. This business is beyond me, but Mrs. Hillmer has got to explain a +good deal yet before I am done with her.”</p> + +<p>The detective’s wrath at this check in the hunt after a criminal did not +appeal to the baronet.</p> + +<p>“You can please yourself, Mr. White, of course,” he said coldly; “but so +far as I am concerned, I will respect my wife’s wishes, and let the +matter rest where it is.”</p> + +<p>“My dear fellow,” said the barrister, “such a course is impossible. +Assuming that her ladyship is really alive, why did she leave you?”</p> + +<p>“How can I tell? She herself refuses to give a reason. She apparently +stated one in a letter which never reached me, as you know. She has +selfishly caused me a world of suffering and misery for three long +months. I refuse to be plagued in the matter further.”</p> + +<p>Sir Charles was excited and angry. He was in bitter revolt against +circumstances.</p> + +<p>“Do you intend to show this letter to Lady Dyke’s relatives?” asked +Bruce, at a loss for the time to discuss the situation coherently.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p><p>“I do not know. What would you advise? I trust fully to your judgment. +But is it not better to obey her wishes?—to forget, as she puts it?”</p> + +<p>“We must decide nothing hastily. I am perplexed beyond endurance by this +business. There is so much that is wildly impossible in its +irreconcilable features. I must have time. Will you give me a copy of +the letter?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, keep it yourself. We have all seen it.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you.” Bruce placed the envelope and its contents in his +pocket-book. Then, turning to the detective, he said:</p> + +<p>“Now, Mr. White, do me a favor. Do not worry Mrs. Hillmer until you hear +from me.”</p> + +<p>“By all means, Mr. Bruce. But am I to report to the Commissioner that +Lady Dyke has been found, or has, at any rate, explained that she is not +dead?”</p> + +<p>“There is no immediate necessity why a report of any kind should be +made.”</p> + +<p>“None.”</p> + +<p>“Then leave matters where they are at present.”</p> + +<p>“But why,” put in Sir Charles. “Is it not better to end all inquiries, +at least so far as my wife is concerned? It is her desire, and, I may +add, my own, now that I know something of her fate.”</p> + +<p>“Of course, if you wish it, Dyke, I have no valid objection.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, no. Do not look at it in that way. I leave the ultimate +decision entirely to you.”</p> + +<p>“In that case, I recommend complete silence in all quarters at present.”</p> + +<p>The detective left them, and as he passed out into Victoria Street his +philosophy could find but one comprehensive dictum. “This <i>is</i> a rum +go,” he muttered, unconsciously <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>plagiarizing himself on many previous +occasions.</p> + +<p>The baronet sat down, and meditatively chewed the handle of his +umbrella.</p> + +<p>“What is this nonsense Mensmore’s sister talked about being responsible +for my wife’s death?” he said.</p> + +<p>“I do not pretend to understand,” answered Bruce. “Little more than a +week ago she learned for the first time of your wife’s supposed murder. +Of that I am quite positive. She feared that her brother was implicated, +and, without trusting me with the reasons for her belief, took the +measures she thought best to safeguard him.”</p> + +<p>“Took measures! What?” Sir Charles jerked the words out impetuously.</p> + +<p>“She followed him to the South of France, and found him in Florence. +What she said I cannot guess, but the result was their visit here +to-night. During our interview it came out, quite by accident, that some +furniture was taken from her place to her brother’s on the morning of +November 7, thus shifting the venue of Lady Dyke’s death—or imaginary +death I must now say—from No. 12 Raleigh Mansions to No. 61. This +discovery was as startling to Mrs. Hillmer as to us, for she forthwith +protested that the whole affair arose from her fault, and practically +asked the detective to arrest her on the definite charge of murder.”</p> + +<p>“Pooh! The mania of an hysterical woman!”</p> + +<p>“Possibly!”</p> + +<p>“Why ‘possibly’? No one was murdered in her abode. Do you for a moment +believe the monstrous insinuation?”</p> + +<p>“No, not in that sense. But her brother was about to make some +revelation regarding a third person when she appealed to him not to +speak. What would have happened <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>finally I do not know. At that critical +moment my servant announced your arrival.”</p> + +<p>“But what can Mrs. Hillmer have to conceal? She and her brother have +been lost to Society since long before my marriage. Neither of them, so +far as I know, has ever set eyes on my wife during the last seven +years.”</p> + +<p>“Yet Mrs. Hillmer <i>must</i> have had some powerful motive in acting as she +did.”</p> + +<p>“Is it not more than likely that she had a bad attack of nerves?”</p> + +<p>“A woman who merely yields to nervous prostration behaves foolishly. +This woman gave way to emotion, it is true, but it was strength, not +weakness, that sustained her.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“There is but one force that sustains in such a crisis—the power of +love. Mrs. Hillmer was not flying from consequences. She met them +half-way in the spirit of a martyr.”</p> + +<p>“’Pon my honor, Bruce, I am beginning to think that this wretched +business is affecting your usually clear brain. You are accepting +fancies as facts.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe. I confess I am unable to form a logical conclusion to-night.”</p> + +<p>“Why not abandon the whole muddle to time? There is no solution of a +difficulty like the almanac. Let us both go off somewhere.”</p> + +<p>“What, and leave Mrs. Hillmer to die of sheer pain of mind? Let this +unfortunate fellow, Mensmore, suffer no one knows what consequences from +the events of to-day? It is out of the question.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, I leave it to you. Every one seems to forget that it is I +who suffer most.” The baronet stood up and dejectedly gazed into the +fire.</p> + +<p>“I, at least, can feel for you, Dyke,” said Bruce sympatherically, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>“but +you must admit that things cannot be allowed to remain in their present +whirlpool.”</p> + +<p>“So be it. Let them go on to their bitter end. If my wife was tired of +my society she might at least have got rid of me in an easier manner.”</p> + +<p>With this trite reflection Sir Charles quitted his friend’s house.</p> + +<p>Bruce sat motionless for a long time. Then, as his mind became calmer, +he lit a cigar, took out the doubly mysterious letter, and examined it +in every possible way, critically and microscopically.</p> + +<p>There could be no doubt that it was a genuine production. The condition +of the ink bore out the correctness of the date, and the fact that the +note paper and envelope were not of Continental style was not very +material.</p> + +<p>It did not appear to have been enclosed in another envelope, as the +writer implied, for the purpose of being re-posted in London. Rather did +the slightly frayed edges give rise to the assumption that it had been +carried in some one’s pocket before postage. But this theory was vague +and undemonstrable.</p> + +<p>The handwriting was Lady Dyke’s; the style, allowing for the strange +conditions under which it was written, was hers; yet Bruce did not +believe in it.</p> + +<p>Nothing could shake his faith in the one solid, concrete certainty that +stood out from a maze of contradictions and mystery—Lady Dyke was dead, +and buried in a pauper’s grave at Putney.</p> + +<p>At last, wearied with thought and theorizing, he went to bed; but Smith +sat up late to regale his partner with the full, true, and particular +narrative of the “lydy a-cryin’ on her knees, and the strange gent +lookin’ as though he would like to murder Mr. White.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h3> + +<h2>THE HANDWRITING</h2> + +<p>Like most men, Claude took a different view of events in the morning to +that which he entertained over night.</p> + +<p>Yesterday, the surprises of the hour were concrete embodiments, each +distinct and emphatic. To-day they were merged in the general mass of +contradictory details that made up this most bewildering inquiry.</p> + +<p>That matters could not be allowed to rest in their present state was +clear; that they would, in the natural course of things, reveal +themselves more definitely, even if unaided, was also patent.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer’s partial admissions, her brother’s evident knowledge of +some salient features of the puzzle, that utterly strange letter in the +admitted handwriting of Lady Dyke herself, and bearing the prosaic +testimony of dates stamped by the Post-office—these sensational +elements, when brought into juxtaposition, could not avoid reaction into +clearer phases.</p> + +<p>Long experience in criminal investigation told him that, under certain +circumstances, the best course of all was one of inactivity.</p> + +<p>On the basis of the accepted truism in the affairs of many people that +“letters left unanswered answer themselves,” the barrister knew that +there must be an outcome from the queer medley of occurrences at his +residence on the Monday evening.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p><p>Reviewing the history of the past three months several odd features +stood out from the general jumble.</p> + +<p>In the first place, he wondered why he had failed to deduce any +pertinent fact from the manner in which Mrs. Hillmer’s dining-room was +furnished on the occasion of his first visit to Raleigh Mansions.</p> + +<p>He distinctly remembered noting his reception in an unusual room +littered with unusual articles, when the luxurious and well-appointed +suite of apartments was considered as a whole. It was suggested to him +at the time that the drawing-room, which he saw during his second visit, +was dismantled earlier, but he did not connect this trivial incident +with the feature in Mensmore’s flat that he noted immediately—namely, +the discrepancies between the arrangement of the sitting-room and the +other chambers in the place.</p> + +<p>These things were immaterial now, but he indexed them as a guide for +future use.</p> + +<p>Lady Dyke’s motive for that secret visit to Raleigh Mansions—that was +the key to the mystery. But how to discover it? Who was her confidant? +To whom could he turn for possible enlightenment? It was useless to +broach the matter again to her husband. The baronet and his wife had +been friends sharing the same <i>ménage</i> rather than husband and wife. Her +relatives had already been appealed to in vain. They knew nothing of the +slightest value in this search for truth.</p> + +<p>In this train of thought the name of Jane Harding cropped up. She was +the personal maid of the deceased lady. She had sharp eyes and quick +wits. Her queer antics shortly after the inquest were not forgotten. +Here at least was a possibility of light if the girl would speak.</p> + +<p>If she refused what could be her motive?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p><p>Anyhow it was worth while to make a fresh effort. Early in the afternoon +he called at the stage-door of the Jollity Theatre.</p> + +<p>“Is Miss Marie le Marchant still employed here?” he asked the attendant.</p> + +<p>“I dunno,” was the careless answer.</p> + +<p>“Well, think hard,” said the barrister, laying a half-crown on the +battered blotting-pad which is an indispensable part of the furniture in +the letter bureau of a theatre.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, I believe she is, but she has been away on a week’s leave.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed. Has she returned?”</p> + +<p>“I was off last night, sir, but if you will pardon me a moment I’ll +inquire from the man who took my place.”</p> + +<p>The stage-doorkeeper disappeared into the dark interior, to return +quickly with the information that Miss le Marchant had appeared as usual +on Monday night.</p> + +<p>“She was away most part of last week, sir,” added the man, “and I +believe it wasn’t a holiday, as she was a-sort of flurried about it as +if some one was ill.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you. Do you know where she lives?”</p> + +<p>A momentary hesitation was soon softened by another half-crown.</p> + +<p>“It’s against the rules, sir. If you were to find yourself near Jubilee +Buildings, Bloomsbury, you would not be far out.”</p> + +<p>The information was sound. Miss Marie le Marchant’s name was painted +outside a second-floor flat.</p> + +<p>Bruce knocked, and the door was opened by an elderly woman whom he had +no difficulty in recognizing.</p> + +<p>“Is your daughter in, Mrs. Harding?” he said.</p> + +<p>For a moment she could not speak for surprise.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p><p>“Well, I never,” she cried, “but London is a funny place. Do you know +me, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Any one would recognize you from your daughter, if they did not take +you for her elder sister,” he said. Bruce’s smile was irresistible.</p> + +<p>“My daughter is not in just now, sir,” replied Mrs. Harding, “but I +expect her in to tea almost immediately.”</p> + +<p>“Then may I come in and await her arrival?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, sir.”</p> + +<p>Once inside the flat, he was impressed by the pretentious but fairly +comfortable nature of its appointments; the ex-lady’s maid’s legacy must +have been a nice one to enable her to live in such style, as the poor +pittance of a coryphée would barely pay the rent and taxes. Moreover, +the presence of her mother in the establishment was a distinct factor in +her favor.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Harding had brought the visitor to the tiny sitting-room. She +seated herself near the window and resumed some sewing.</p> + +<p>“Have you been long in town, Mrs. Harding?” he said, by way of being +civil.</p> + +<p>“In London, do you mean, sir? About two months. Ever since my daughter +got along so well in her new profession. She’s a good girl, is my +daughter.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Harding is doing well on the stage, then?”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, sir. Why, she’s been earning £6 a week, and last week she was +sent for on a special engagement, which paid her so well that she’s +going to buy me a new dress out of the money.”</p> + +<p>“Really,” said the barrister, “you ought to be proud of her.”</p> + +<p>“I am,” admitted the admiring mother. “I only wish <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>her brother, who +went off and ’listed for a sojer, had turned out half as well.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Harding nodded towards a photograph of a cavalry soldier in uniform +on the mantelshelf, and Bruce rose to examine it, inwardly marvelling at +the intelligence he had just received. Was it reasonable that the girl +could be the recipient of a legacy without the knowledge of her mother? +In any case, why did she conceal the real nature of her earnings? The +story about “£6 a week” was a myth.</p> + +<p>Near to the portrait of the gallant huzzar was a large plaque +presentment of Miss Marie herself, in all the glory of tights, wig, and +make-up. Across it was written, in the best theatrical style, “Ever +yours sincerely, Marie le Marchant.” And no sooner had Bruce caught +sight of the words than he almost shouted aloud in his amazement.</p> + +<p>The handwriting was identical with that of Lady Dyke.</p> + +<p>Gulping down his surprise, he devoured the signature with his eyes. The +resemblance was truly remarkable. What on earth could be the explanation +of this phenomenon.</p> + +<p>“Your daughter is a remarkably nice writer, Mrs. Harding,” he said, +turning the photograph towards her.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the complacent mother, “she taught herself when—before she +went on the stage. She was always a clever girl, and when she grew up +she improved herself. I wasn’t able to afford her much schooling when +she was young.”</p> + +<p>“I have seldom seen a nicer hand,” he went on. “Have you any other +specimens of her writing? I should like to see them if they are not +private.”</p> + +<p>The smooth surface of the photograph might perhaps lend a deceptive +fluency to the pen. He wanted to make quite sure that he was not +mistaken.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p><p>“Oh yes. She’s just copying out the part of Ophelia in <i>Hamlet</i>. And she +acts it beautiful.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Harding handed over a large MS. book, and there, written on the +first page, was the name of the luckless woman whose fatal passion has +moved millions to tears.</p> + +<p>He admired Miss Marie le Marchant’s efforts in the matter of +self-culture, but he was determined, once for all, to wrest from her +some explanation of her actions.</p> + +<p>The rattle of a key in the outer door caused him to throw aside the +coveted “part,” and the young lady herself entered. A few weeks of stage +experience had given her a more stylish appearance. There was a +“professional” touch in the arrangement of her hat and the droop of her +skirt.</p> + +<p>She knew him instantly, and listened with evident anger to her mother’s +explanation that “this gentleman has just called to see you, dear.”</p> + +<p>“All right, mother,” she cried. “I see it is Mr. Bruce. Will you get tea +ready while I talk with him? I shall be ready in two minutes.” This with +a defiant look at the visitor.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Harding quitted the room her daughter said in the crisp +accents of ill-temper:</p> + +<p>“What do you want with me, now?”</p> + +<p>“I want to ask why you dared to write a letter to Sir Charles Dyke in +the name of your dead mistress.”</p> + +<p>The answer was so direct, the tone so menacing, its assumption of +absolute and unquestioned knowledge so complete, that for a moment Marie +le Marchant’s assurance failed her.</p> + +<p>She stood like one petrified, with eyes dilated and breast heaving. At +last she managed to ejaculate:</p> + +<p>“I—I—why do you ask me that question?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p><p>“Because I must have the truth from you this time. You are playing a +very dangerous game.”</p> + +<p>That he was right he was sure now beyond doubt. It was impossible for +the girl to deny it with those piercing eyes fixed on her, and seeming +to read the secrets of her heart.</p> + +<p>Yet she was plucky enough. Although she was confused and on the point of +bursting into tears, she snapped viciously:</p> + +<p>“I will tell you nothing. Go away.”</p> + +<p>“You are obstinate, I know,” said Bruce, “but I must warn you that you +are juggling with edged tools. You should not imagine that you can +trifle with murder. What is your motive for deliberately trying to +conceal Lady Dyke’s death? If you do not answer me you may be asked the +question in a court of law.”</p> + +<p>“You have no right to come here annoying me!” she retorted.</p> + +<p>“I am not here to annoy you. I come, rather, as a friend, to appeal to +you not to incur the grave risk of keeping from the authorities +information which they ought to possess.”</p> + +<p>“What information?”</p> + +<p>“The reasons which led you to leave Sir Charles Dyke’s house so +suddenly, the source from which you obtain your money, paid to you, +doubtless, to secure your silence, the motive which impelled you to use +your ability to imitate her ladyship’s handwriting in order to spread +the false news that she is alive. This is the information needed, and +your wilful refusal to give it constitutes a grave indictment.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care <i>that</i> for you, Mr. Bruce,” replied the girl, her face set +now in a scarlet temper, while she snapped her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>fingers to emphasize the +words. “You can do and say what you like, I will tell you nothing.”</p> + +<p>“You cannot deny you wrote that letter to Sir Charles Dyke last +Saturday?”</p> + +<p>“I am waiting for my tea. Sorry I can’t ask you to join me.”</p> + +<p>“Your flippancy will not avail you. See, here is the letter itself—your +own production—written on paper of which you have a quantity in this +very room.”</p> + +<p>The shot was a bold one, and it very nearly hit the mark. She was +staggered, almost subdued by this melodramatic production of the +original, and his clever guess at the existence of similar notepaper in +the house.</p> + +<p>But her dogged temperament saved her. Jane Harding was British, +notwithstanding her penchant for a French-sounding name, and she would +have died sooner than beat a retreat.</p> + +<p>“I will thank you to leave me alone, Mr. Bruce,” she said.</p> + +<p>There was nothing for it but to retire as gracefully as possible, but +the barrister was more than satisfied with the result of his visit. He +had now established beyond a shadow of doubt that for some reason which +he could not fathom the ex-lady’s maid not only knew of her mistress’s +death, but wished to conceal it.</p> + +<p>This desire, too, had the essential feature of every other branch of the +inquiry; it grew to maturity long after the day when Lady Dyke was +actually killed. What did it all mean?</p> + +<p>From Bloomsbury he strolled west to Portman Square, and found Sir +Charles on the point of going for a drive in the Park.</p> + +<p>He briefly told him his discovery.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p><p>The baronet at first was sceptical. “Do you mean to say, Claude,” he +cried, fretfully, “that I do not know my wife’s writing when I see it?”</p> + +<p>“You may think you do, but when another person can imitate it exactly, +of course, you may be deceived. Besides, if this girl, as is probable, +was helped in her education by your wife, what is more likely than that +Jane Harding should seek to copy that which she would consider the ideal +of excellence. Don’t harbor any delusions in the matter, Dyke. The +letter you received on Monday morning was written by Jane Harding. I am +sure of that from her manner no less than from the accidental +resemblance of the two styles of handwriting. What I could not find out +was her motive for the deceit.”</p> + +<p>“It is a queer business altogether,” said Sir Charles wearily; “I wish +it were ended.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h3> + +<h2>MISS PHYLLIS BROWNE INTERVENES</h2> + +<p>Bruce was quite positive in his belief that Jane Harding was the paid +agent of some person who wished to conceal the facts concerning Lady +Dyke’s death.</p> + +<p>Her unexpected appearance in the field at this late hour, no less than +the bold <i>rôle</i> she adopted, proved this conclusively. But in England +there was no torture-chamber to which she might be led and gradually +dismembered until she confessed the truth.</p> + +<p>So long as she adhered to the policy of pert denial she was quite safe. +The law could not touch her, for the chief witness against her, Sir +Charles Dyke, was obviously more than half-inclined to admit the +genuineness of the letter, even in opposition to the superior judgment +of his friend.</p> + +<p>Yet it was a matter which Bruce considered ought to be made known to the +police, so he sent for Mr. White and told him of the strange result of +his interview with Miss Marie le Marchant.</p> + +<p>“Dash everything!” cried the detective, when he heard the news. “I made +a note sometime ago that that girl ought to be watched, but I clean +forgot all about it.”</p> + +<p>“Remember,” said Bruce, “that my discovery was the result of pure +accident. My object in visiting her was to endeavor to induce her +confidence with regard to Lady <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>Dyke’s former life and habits. Indeed, I +handled the business very badly.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see that, sir. You got hold of a very remarkable fact, and thus +prevented the success of a bold move by some one which, in my case at +any rate, nearly choked me off the inquiry.”</p> + +<p>“True. Thus far, chance favored me. But I ought to have been content +with the assumption. There was no need to frighten her by pressing it +home.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, from that point of view—” began the detective.</p> + +<p>But Bruce was merely thinking aloud—rough-shaping his ideas as they +grouped themselves in his brain.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I am wrong there too,” he went on. “If this girl is working to +instructions she would have refused to help me in any way, and she +already knows that I am on the trail. There is one highly satisfactory +feature in the Jane Harding adventure, Mr. White.”</p> + +<p>“And what is that?”</p> + +<p>“The person, or persons, responsible for Lady Dyke’s death know that the +matter has not been dropped. They are inclined to think that the circle +is narrowing. In some of our casts, Mr. White, we must have come so +unpleasantly close to them, that they deemed it advisable to throw us +off the scent by a bold effort.”</p> + +<p>“No doubt you are right, sir, but I wish to goodness I knew when we were +‘warm,’ as I am becoming tired of the business. Every new development +deepens the mystery.”</p> + +<p>The detective’s face was as downcast as his words.</p> + +<p>“Surely not! The more pieces of the puzzle we have to handle the less +difficult should be the final task of putting them together.”</p> + +<p>“Not when every piece is a fresh puzzle in itself.”</p> + +<p>“Why, what has disconcerted you to-day?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p><p>“Mrs. Hillmer.”</p> + +<p>“What of her?”</p> + +<p>“I have had another talk with the maid,—her companion, you know,—a +girl named Dobson. It struck me that it was advisable to know more about +Mrs. Hillmer than we do at present.”</p> + +<p>Bruce made no comment, but he could not help reflecting that Corbett, +the stranger from Wyoming, had entertained the same view.</p> + +<p>“Well,” continued the detective, “I went about the affair as quietly as +possible, but the maid, though willing, could not tell me much. Mrs. +Hillmer, she thinks, married very young, and was badly treated by her +husband. Finally, there was a rumpus, and she went on the stage, while +Hillmer drank himself to death. He died a year ago, and they had been +separated nearly five years. He was fairly well-to-do, but he squandered +all his money in dissipation and never gave her a cent. Three years last +Michaelmas she set up her present establishment at Raleigh Mansions, and +there she has been ever since.”</p> + +<p>“Then where does the money come from? It must cost her at least £2,000 a +year to live.”</p> + +<p>“That’s just what the maid can’t tell me. Her mistress led a very +secluded life, and was never what you could call fast, though a very +pretty woman. During this time she had only one visitor—a gentleman.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!”</p> + +<p>“It sounds promising, but it ends in smoke, so far as I can see.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“This gentleman was a Colonel Montgomery—an old friend—though he +wasn’t much turned thirty, the maid says. He interested himself a lot in +Mrs. Hillmer’s affairs, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>looked after some investments for her, and was +on very good terms with her, and nobody could whisper a word against the +character of either of them. He was never there except in the afternoon. +On very rare occasions he took Mrs. Hillmer, whose maid always +accompanied them, to Epping Forest, or up the river, or on some such +journey.”</p> + +<p>“Go on!”</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry, sir, but the chase is over. He’s dead.”</p> + +<p>“Dead?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. The maid doesn’t know how, or when, exactly, but one day she found +her mistress crying, and when she asked her what was the matter, Mrs. +Hillmer said, ‘I’ve lost my friend.’ The maid said, ‘Surely not Colonel +Montgomery, madam?’ and she replied, ‘Yes.’ She quite took on about it.”</p> + +<p>“Had the maid no idea as to the date of this interesting occurrence?”</p> + +<p>“Only a vague one. Sometime in the autumn or before Christmas. By Jove, +yes; it escaped me at the time, but she said that soon after the +Colonel’s death another gentleman called and took her mistress out to +dinner. I was so busy thinking about the colonel that I slipped the +significance of that statement. It must have been you, Mr. Bruce.”</p> + +<p>“So it seems.”</p> + +<p>The barrister’s active brain was already assimilating this new +information. If a woman like Mrs. Hillmer had lost a dear and valuable +friend—one who practically formed the horizon of her life—she would +certainly have worn mourning for him. It was a singular coincidence that +Mrs. Hillmer “lost” Colonel Montgomery about the same time that Lady +Dyke disappeared. Detective and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>maid alike had drawn a false inference +from Mrs. Hillmer’s words.</p> + +<p>“We must find Colonel Montgomery,” he said, after a slight pause.</p> + +<p>“Find him!”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I hope neither of us is going his way for some time to come, Mr. +Bruce,” laughed the policeman.</p> + +<p>“White, I shall never cure you from jumping at conclusions. Upon your +present evidence Colonel Montgomery is no more dead than you are.”</p> + +<p>“But the maid said—”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care if fifty maids said. There are many more ways of ‘losing’ +a friend than by death. Pass me the Army List, on that bookshelf behind +you there.”</p> + +<p>A brief reference to the index, and Bruce said:</p> + +<p>“I thought so. There is no <i>Colonel</i> Montgomery. There are several +captains and lieutenants, and a Major-General who has commanded a small +island in the Pacific for the last five years, but not a single colonel. +White, you have blundered into eminence in your profession.”</p> + +<p>“I’m glad to hear it, even as you put it, Mr. Bruce. But I don’t see—”</p> + +<p>“I know you don’t. If you did, a popular novelist would write your life +and style you the English Lecocq. Mrs. Hillmer ‘lost’ the gallant +colonel at the same time that the world ‘lost’ Lady Dyke. Find the +first, and I am much mistaken if we do not learn all about the second.”</p> + +<p>“Now I wonder if you are right.”</p> + +<p>The detective’s eyes sparkled with animation. It was the first real clue +he had hit upon, and Bruce’s method of complimenting him on the fact did +not disconcert him.</p> + +<p>“Of course I am right. You have done so well with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>the maid that I leave +her in your hands. Try the coachman and the cook. But keep me informed +of your progress.”</p> + +<p>White rushed off elated. So persistent was he in striving to elucidate +this new problem that he paid no heed during some days to the side-light +furnished by Jane Harding and her exceedingly curious powers as a +letter-writer.</p> + +<p>Bruce purposely left the inquiry to the policeman.</p> + +<p>He realized intuitively that the disappearance of Lady Dyke would soon +be explained, but he shrank from subjecting Mrs. Hillmer to further +questioning.</p> + +<p>His abstinence was rewarded later in the week, for Mensmore came to see +him. The young man wore an expression of settled melancholy which +surprised the barrister greatly.</p> + +<p>“Have you prevailed on your sister to take us into her confidence?” he +said, when Mensmore was ensconced in a chair in his cosy sitting-room.</p> + +<p>“No. She is more fixed than ever in her resolve to take the whole blame +on herself.”</p> + +<p>“Surely this mistaken idea can be shaken?”</p> + +<p>“I fear not.”</p> + +<p>“And you also share it?”</p> + +<p>“I do. Bear with us, Bruce. This is a terrible business. It has broken +me up utterly.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense. You are in no way concerned save to shield your sister, and +no one credits her wild statements regarding her complicity in this +crime.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, my dear fellow, I have come to ask you if this investigation +cannot be allowed to rest. It means a lot of misery that you cannot +foretell or prevent. Knowing what I do, I cannot believe that Lady Dyke +was murdered.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p><p>“Knowing what I do, I cannot accept any other conclusion. A worthy and +estimable lady leaves her home suddenly, without the slightest imaginary +cause, and she is found in the Thames with a piece of iron driven into +her brain, while the medical evidence is clear that death was not due to +drowning. What other inference can be drawn than that she was foully +done to death?”</p> + +<p>“Heaven help me, I cannot tell. Yet I appeal to you to let matters rest +where they are if it is possible.”</p> + +<p>“It is not possible. I cannot control the police. I am merely a private +agent acting on my own responsibility and on behalf of Lady Dyke’s +relatives.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t misunderstand me, Bruce. I am not asking this thing on account of +my sister or myself.”</p> + +<p>“On whose account, then?”</p> + +<p>Mensmore did not answer for a moment. He looked mournfully into the fire +for inspiration.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I had better tell you,” he said, “that I have broken off my +engagement with Miss Browne.”</p> + +<p>The other jumped from his chair.</p> + +<p>“What the dickens do you mean?” he cried.</p> + +<p>“Exactly what I have said. When we met on Monday night, I did not +mention that Sir William and Lady Browne and their daughter travelled +back to England with us. On Tuesday I saw Phyllis. In view of the shadow +thrown on me by this frightful charge I thought it my duty to release +her from any ties. If my sister has to figure in a court of law as a +principal, or accomplice, in a murder case—and possibly myself with +her—I could not consent to associate my poor Phyllis’s name with mine. +So I took the plunge.”</p> + +<p>“You are a beastly idiot,” shouted Bruce. “If I had the power I would +give you six months’ hard labor this <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>moment. Who ever threatened to put +you or your sister in the dock?”</p> + +<p>“You have done your best that way, you know.”</p> + +<p>“I?—I have shielded you throughout!”</p> + +<p>“I feel that. But your admission shows that I am right. Shielded us from +what? From arrest by the police, of course.”</p> + +<p>“But why take this precipitate action? What has Lady Dyke’s death to do +with your marriage to Miss Browne?”</p> + +<p>“That’s it, Bruce. I cannot explain. I must endure silently.”</p> + +<p>“Did you give her any reason for your absurd resolution?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I could have no secrets from her.”</p> + +<p>“Did you inflict all this wretched story on a woman you loved and hoped +to marry?”</p> + +<p>“You may be as bitter as you like. That is my idea of square dealing, at +any rate. What other pretext could I invite for—for giving her up?”</p> + +<p>Mensmore found it hard to utter the words. In his heart Bruce pitied +him, though he raged at this lamentable issue of the only bright passage +in the whole story of death and intrigue.</p> + +<p>“And what did Miss Browne say?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, she just pooh-poohed the affair, and pretended to laugh at me, +though she was crying all the time.”</p> + +<p>“A nice kettle of fish you have made of it,” growled the barrister. “You +help your sister in her folly of silence and then proceed to give effect +to it by ruining your own happiness and that of your affianced wife. +Have you seen Miss Browne since?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>His visitor was so utterly disconsolate that Bruce was at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>a loss to +know how to deal with him. He felt that if Mensmore would but speak +regarding Mrs. Hillmer’s strange delusion, and the cause of it, all +these difficulties and disasters would disappear. He resolved to try a +direct attack.</p> + +<p>“Have you ever heard of a Colonel Montgomery?” he said suddenly, bending +his searching gaze on the other’s downcast face.</p> + +<p>The effect was electrical. Mensmore was so taken back that he was +spellbound. He looked at Claude, the picture of astonishment, before he +stammered:</p> + +<p>“I—you—who told you about him?”</p> + +<p>“He was your sister’s friend, adviser, and confidant,” was the stern +reply. “He it is who, in some mysterious way, is bound up with Lady +Dyke’s disappearance.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore rose excitedly.</p> + +<p>“I cannot discuss the matter with you,” he cried. “I have given my +sacred promise, and no matter what the cost may be I will not break my +word.”</p> + +<p>“I do not press you. But may I see Mrs. Hillmer again? When she is +calmer I might reason with her.”</p> + +<p>The other placed his hand on Bruce’s shoulder, and his voice was very +impressive, though shaken by strong emotion:</p> + +<p>“Believe me,” he said, “it is better that you should not see her. It +will be useless. She is leaving London, not to avoid consequences, but +to get away from painful memories. Her departure will be quite open, and +her place of residence known to any one who cares to inquire. One thing +she is immovable in. She will never reveal to a living soul what she +knows of Lady Dyke’s death. She would rather suffer any punishment at +the hands of the law.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p><p>“Don’t you understand that this man, Montgomery, is now known to the +police. Sooner or later he will be found and asked to explain any +connection he may have had with the crime. Why not accomplish quietly +that which will perforce be done through the uncompromising channels of +Scotland Yard?”</p> + +<p>“Your reasoning appears to be good, but—”</p> + +<p>“But folly must prevail?”</p> + +<p>“Put it that way if you like.”</p> + +<p>“So this wretched imbroglio may cost you the love of a charming and +devoted girl?”</p> + +<p>“Heaven help me, it may—probably will.”</p> + +<p>“I swear to you,” cried the barrister, who was unusually excited, “that +I will tear the heart out of this mystery before the week expires.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore bowed silently and would have left the room, but Smith entered. +In their distraction they had not heard the bell ring. Smith handed a +card to his master. Instantly Bruce controlled himself. His admiration +for the dramatic sequence of events overcame his eagerness as an actor. +It was with an appreciative smile that he said, without the slightest +reference to Mensmore:</p> + +<p>“Show the lady in.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore was passing out, but the sight of the visitor drove him back as +though he had been struck. It was Phyllis Browne.</p> + +<p>Her recognition of him was a bright smile. She advanced to Bruce, saying +pleasantly:</p> + +<p>“I am glad to meet you, though the manner of my call is somewhat +unconventional. I heard much of you from Bertie in the Riviera, and more +since my return to town.”</p> + +<p>He suitably expressed his delight at this apparition. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>Mensmore, not +knowing what to do, stood awkwardly at the other end of the room.</p> + +<p>Neither of the others paid the least heed to him.</p> + +<p>“Of course I had a definite object in coming to see you, Mr. Bruce,” +went on the young lady. “I have been coolly told that, because somebody +killed somebody else some months ago, a young gentlemen who asked me to +be his wife, is not only not going to marry me but intends to spend the +rest of his life in Central Africa or China—anywhere in fact but where +I may be.”</p> + +<p>“A most unwise resolve,” said the barrister.</p> + +<p>“So I thought. You appear to hold the key to the situation; and, as it +is an easy matter to trace you through the Directory, here I am. My +people think I am skating at St. James’s.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Miss Browne,” said Claude, “I am neither judge nor jury nor +counsel for the prosecution, but there is the culprit. I hand him over +to you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but that goose didn’t kill anybody, did he?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“And I am sure his sister did not; from what little I saw of her she +would not hurt a fly.”</p> + +<p>“Quite true.”</p> + +<p>“Then why don’t you find the man who caused all the +mischief—and—and—lock him up at least, so that he cannot go on +injuring people?”</p> + +<p>Miss Phyllis was very brave and self-confident at the outset. Now she +was on the verge of tears, for Mensmore’s saddened face and depressed +manner unnerved her more than his passionate words at their last +interview.</p> + +<p>“You ask me a straight question,” replied Bruce, though his eyes were +fixed on Mensmore, “and I will give you a straight answer. I <i>will</i> find +the man who killed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>Lady Dyke. As you say, it is time his capacity for +doing injury to others should be limited. Before many days have passed +Mr. Mensmore will come to you and beg your pardon for his hasty and +quite unwarranted resolve.”</p> + +<p>“Do you hear that, Bertie?” cried the girl. “Didn’t I tell you so?”</p> + +<p>Mensmore came forward to her side of the table.</p> + +<p>“I need not wait, Phil, dear,” he said simply. “I ask your pardon now. +This business is in the hands of Providence. I was foolish to think that +anything I could do would stave off the inevitable.”</p> + +<p>“And if you have—to go—to China—you w-will take me with you?”</p> + +<p>Bruce looked out of the window, whistled, and said loudly, addressing a +beautiful lady in short skirts who figured in a poster across the way:</p> + +<p>“Let me ring for some tea. All this talk makes one dry.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h3> + +<h2>LADY HELEN MONTGOMERY’S SON</h2> + +<p>When the young people had gone—Mensmore ill at ease, though tremuously +happy that Phyllis had so demonstrated her trust in him, Phyllis herself +radiantly confident in the barrister’s powers to set everything +right—Bruce devoted himself to the task of determining a new line for +his energies.</p> + +<p>The first step was self-evident. He must ascertain if the Dykes knew a +Colonel Montgomery.</p> + +<p>He drove to the Club frequented by Sir Charles, but the baronet was not +there, so he went to Wensley House.</p> + +<p>Sir Charles was at home, in his accustomed nook by the library fire. He +looked ill and low-spirited. The temporary animation he had displayed +during the past few weeks was gone. If anything, he was more listless +than at any time since his wife’s death.</p> + +<p>“Well, Claude,” he said wearily, “anything to report?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, a good deal.”</p> + +<p>“What is it?”</p> + +<p>“I want to ask you something. Did you ever know a Colonel Montgomery, or +was your wife acquainted with any one of that name to your knowledge?”</p> + +<p>“I do not think she was. Had she ever met such a man I should probably +have heard of him. Who was he?”</p> + +<p>The baronet’s low state rendered his words careless and indefinite, but +his friend did not wish to bother him unduly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p><p>“The police have discovered,” he said, “that Mrs. Hillmer formed a close +intimacy with some one whom she designated by that name and rank, though +I have failed to trace any British officer who answers to his +description. He disappeared, or died, as some people put it, about the +same time as your wife.”</p> + +<p>“Is it not known what became of him, then?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Won’t Mrs. Hillmer tell you?”</p> + +<p>“She absolutely refuses to give any help, whatever.”</p> + +<p>“On what ground?”</p> + +<p>“That is best known to herself. My theory is that a man she loves is +implicated in the affair, and she is prepared to go to any lengths to +shield him.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!”</p> + +<p>Sir Charles bent over and poked the fire viciously. Then he murmured: +“Women are queer creatures, Bruce. We men never understand them until +too late. My wife and I did not to all appearance care a jot for one +another while she lived. Yet I now realize that she loved me, and I +would give the little remaining span of existence, dear as life is, to +see her once more.”</p> + +<p>This was a morbid subject; the younger man tried to switch him off it.</p> + +<p>“It is almost clear to me,” he said, “that Colonel Montgomery’s name was +assumed. Few people realize the use of the <i>alias</i> made in modern life. +I have a notion that the custom among otherwise honorable people has +arisen from the publicity given to the fact that Royal and other +distinguished personages frequently choose to conceal their identity +under less known territorial titles.”</p> + +<p>“The idea is ingenious. We are all slaves to fashion.”</p> + +<p>“However that may be, it should not be a difficult <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>task to lay hands on +the gentleman should he be still living.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose you succeed. How can you connect him with my wife’s death?”</p> + +<p>“At this moment I am unable to say. But the cabman might be of some +use.”</p> + +<p>“The cabman. What cabman?”</p> + +<p>“Did I omit that? I ought to have told you that I have found the driver +of the four-wheeler in which your poor wife was taken, dead or +insensible, from Sloane Square to Putney.”</p> + +<p>“What an extraordinary thing!”</p> + +<p>“What is?”</p> + +<p>“That you should have forgotten to inform me of such a striking fact.”</p> + +<p>“Not so. Now that I recollect, I have not had the opportunity. It was +impossible to discuss anything else but that forged letter on the last +two occasions we met, and it was only a few hours prior to your visit on +Monday that I got the cabman’s story fully. By the way, do you now see +any reason why Jane Harding should have tried to deceive you in such a +manner?”</p> + +<p>The barrister perceived that Sir Charles was nervous and irritable, so +he deemed it a needless strain to enlarge on the history of his +discovery of Foxey.</p> + +<p>“I am tired of letters, and plots, and mysteries. My life is resolving +into one huge note of interrogation. Soon the great question of eternity +will dominate all others.”</p> + +<p>Dyke’s mood unfitted him for sustained conversation. Bruce could but +pity him, and hope that time would calm his fevered brain, and soothe +the unrest that shed this gloom over him.</p> + +<p>“Really,” said Claude, after a long interval, during <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>which both men +sought inspiration from the dancing flames in the fireplace, “really +this is too bad of you, Dyke. You showed a marked improvement for a +little space, and now you are letting yourself slip back into a state of +lonely and unoccupied moping again.”</p> + +<p>“My thoughts find me both occupation and company,” was the despondent +reply.</p> + +<p>“There is nothing for it,” continued Bruce cheerfully, “but a tour round +the world. You must start immediately. A complete change of scene and +surroundings will soon pull you back to a normal state of mind and +health.”</p> + +<p>“I have been thinking of a long journey for some time past.”</p> + +<p>The barrister glanced sharply at his friend. The <i>double entente</i> was +not lost on him. Dyke was in a depressed and nervous condition. The +uncertainty regarding his wife’s fate was harassing him unduly and it +was with a twinge of conscience that Bruce reflected upon his own +eagerness to pursue a quest which, by very reason of its indefiniteness, +attracted him as an intellectual pursuit.</p> + +<p>“Look here,” he cried, on the spur of the moment, “I have long desired +to see the Canadian Pacific route. Will you arrange to start West with +me a fortnight hence? We can return when the spirit moves us.”</p> + +<p>“We will see. We will see. To-day I feel unable to decide anything.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know, but the mere fact that you take the resolution will serve +to reanimate you.”</p> + +<p>“It is very good of you, Claude, to trouble so about me. Had you asked +me earlier I might have gone straight away. But let it rest for a little +while. When I have recovered my spirits somewhat I will come to you to +ask you to sail next day, or something of the sort.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p><p>Beyond this, the other could not move him.</p> + +<p>There was one link in the chain of evidence that would be irrefragable +if discovered. Was this “Colonel Montgomery” in any way connected with +the house at Putney where the murderer had disposed of the body? If this +could be established, the unknown visitor to Raleigh Mansions would +experience a good deal of difficulty in clearing himself of suspicion. +Bruce was certain that, once the “Colonel” was traced, much would come +to light explanatory of Mrs. Hillmer’s, and her brother’s, dread lest +his identity should be discovered.</p> + +<p>An inquiry addressed to the house agents to whom possible tenants were +referred elicited the information that the present owner, a lady, was +prepared to let the house annually or on a lease. They enclosed an order +to view, which Bruce retained in case he should happen to need it.</p> + +<p>A second letter gave him the address of the lady’s solicitors, Messrs. +Small & Sharp, Lincoln’s Inn.</p> + +<p>He called on them as a possible tenant, with a desire to purchase the +property outright if his proposal could be entertained.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sharp, the partner who dealt with the estate, became very suave when +the suggestion reached his ears.</p> + +<p>“You will understand, Mr. Bruce, that your request requires some +consideration. The rent my client asks is comparatively low, because the +house is old-fashioned, but the splendid riparian position of the +property, a free-hold acre on the banks of the Thames at Putney, gives +it a highly increased future value. Any figure you may have based on a +rental calculation would therefore—”</p> + +<p>“Not meet the case at all,” said the barrister, repressing a smile at +the familiar opening move in the game of bargaining.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p><p>“Precisely.”</p> + +<p>“May I ask who the present owner is?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, the lady’s name is Small. In fact, she is my partner’s wife. +Her father, the late Rev. Septimus Childe, purchased the estate some +years ago, largely because the house suited his requirements as the head +of a successful private school.”</p> + +<p>“Has the estate changed hands frequently then?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear, no. Indeed, it is well understood that the Rev. Mr. Childe +acquired it more as a friendly transaction than otherwise. The estate is +a portion of the separate estate of the late Lady Helen Montgomery, who +married Sir William Dyke, father of the present baronet, who +perhaps—good gracious, my dear sir, what is the matter?”</p> + +<p>Had Bruce been a woman he must have fainted.</p> + +<p>As it was, the shock of the intelligence nearly paralyzed him. Sir +Charles Dyke!—Montgomery!—The house at Putney the property of his +mother! What new terror did not this frightful combination suggest?</p> + +<p>Why did his friend conceal from him these most important facts? Why did +he pretend ignorance not only of the locality but of his mother’s maiden +name? Like lightning the remembrance flashed through Bruce’s troubled +brain that he had only heard of the earlier Lady Dyke as a daughter of +the Earl of Tilbury. A suspicion—profoundly horrible, yet +convincing—was slowly mastering him, and every second brought further +proof not only of its reasonableness, but of its ghastly and inflexible +certainty.</p> + +<p>Again the lawyer’s voice reached his ears, dully and thin, as though it +penetrated through a wall.</p> + +<p>“Surely, you feel ill? Let me get you some brandy.”</p> + +<p>“No—no,” murmured the barrister. “It is but a momentary faintness. I—I +think I will go out into the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>fresh air. Are you—quite sure—that Mr. +Childe bought the property from Lady Helen Montgomery’s trustees?”</p> + +<p>“Quite sure. If you wait even a few moments I will show you the +title-deeds.”</p> + +<p>“No, thank you. I will call again. Pray excuse me.”</p> + +<p>Somehow Bruce crossed the quiet square of the Inn, and plunged into the +turmoil of the street. Amid the bustle of Holborn he had a curious +sensation of safety. The fiend so suddenly installed in his +consciousness was less busy here suggesting strange and maddening +thoughts.</p> + +<p>Why—why—why—fifty questions beat incessantly against the barrier of +agonized negation he strove to set up, but the noise of traffic made the +attack confused. Each incautious bump against a passer-by silenced a +demand, each heavy crunch of a ’bus on the gravel-strewed roadway +temporarily silenced a doubt.</p> + +<p>He was so unmanned that he felt almost on the verge of tears. He +absolutely dared not attempt to reason out the fearful alternative which +had so fiercely thrust itself upon him.</p> + +<p>At last he became vaguely aware that people were staring at him. Fearful +lest some acquaintance should recognize and accost him he hailed a +hansom and drove to Victoria Street.</p> + +<p>All the way the heavy beat of the horse’s feet served to distract his +thoughts. He forced himself to count the quick paces, and tried hard to +accommodate the numerals of two or more syllables to the rapidity of the +animal’s trot. He failed in this, but in the failure found relief.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, though the horse was willing and the driver eager to +oblige a fare who gave a “good” address, the time seemed interminable +until the cab stopped in front of his door.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p><p>Once arrived there, he slowly ascended the stairs to his own flat, told +Smith to pay the cabman half-a-crown and to admit no one, and threw +himself into a chair.</p> + +<p>At last he was face to face with the troublous demon who possessed him +in Lincoln’s Inn, struggled with him through the crowd, and travelled +with him in the hansom. Phyllis Browne should have her answer sooner +than he had expected.</p> + +<p>The man who murdered Lady Dyke was her own husband.</p> + +<p>“Oh, heavens!” moaned Bruce, as he swayed restlessly to and fro in his +chair, “is it possible?”</p> + +<p>He sat there for hours. Smith entered, turned on the lights and +suggested tea, but received an impatient dismissal.</p> + +<p>After another long interval Smith appeared again, to announce that Mr. +White had called.</p> + +<p>“Did you not say I was out?” said Claude, his hollow tones and haggard +air startling his faithful servitor considerably.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir—oh yes, sir. But that’s no use with Mr. White. ’E said as ’ow +’e were sure you were in.”</p> + +<p>“Ask him to oblige me by coming again—to-morrow. I am very ill. I +really cannot see him.”</p> + +<p>Smith left the room only to return and say: “Mr. White says, sir, ’is +business is of the <i>hutmost</i> himportance. ’E can’t leave it; and ’e says +you will be very sorry afterwards if you don’t see ’im now.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, so be it,” cried Bruce, turning to a spirit-stand to seek +sustenance in a stiff glass of brandy. “Send him in.”</p> + +<p>Quite awed by circumstances, Smith admitted the detective and closed the +door upon the two men, who stood looking at each other without a word of +greeting or explanation.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h3> + +<h2>MR. WHITE’S METHOD</h2> + +<p>The policeman spoke first. “Has Jane Harding been here, then?” he said.</p> + +<p>His words conveyed no meaning to his hearer.</p> + +<p>They were so incongruous, so ridiculously unreasoning, that Bruce +laughed hysterically.</p> + +<p>“You must have seen her,” cried the detective excitedly. “I know you +have learned the truth, and in no other way that I can imagine could it +have reached you.”</p> + +<p>“Learnt what truth?”</p> + +<p>“That Sir Charles Dyke himself is at the bottom of all this business.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed. How have you blundered upon that solution?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Bruce, this time I am right, and you know it. It was Sir Charles +Dyke who killed his wife. Nobody else had anything else to do with it, +so far as I can guess. But if you haven’t seen Jane Harding, I wonder +how you found out.”</p> + +<p>“You are speaking in riddles. Pray explain yourself.”</p> + +<p>“If Sir Charles Dyke had not been out of town, the riddle would have +been answered by this time in the easiest way, as I should have locked +him up.”</p> + +<p>“Excellent. You remain faithful to tradition.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Bruce, please don’t try to humbug me, for the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>sake of your friend. +I am quite in earnest. I have come to you for advice. Sir Charles Dyke +is guilty enough.”</p> + +<p>“And what do you want me to do?”</p> + +<p>“To help me to adopt the proper course. The whole thing seems so +astounding that I can hardly trust my own senses. I spoke hastily just +now. I would not have touched Sir Charles before consulting you. I was +never in such a mixed-up condition in my life.”</p> + +<p>Whatever the source of his information, the detective had evidently +arrived at the same conclusion as Bruce himself. There was nothing for +it but to endeavor to reason out the situation calmly and follow the +best method of dealing with it suggested by their joint intelligence. +Claude motioned the detective to a chair, imposed silence by a look, and +summoned Smith. He was faint from want of food. With returning +equanimity he resolved first to restore his strength, as he would need +all his powers to wrestle with events before he slept that night.</p> + +<p>Mr. White, nothing loth, joined him in a simple meal, and by tacit +consent no reference was made to the one engrossing topic in their +thoughts until the table was cleared.</p> + +<p>“And now, Mr. White,” demanded the barrister, “what have you found out?”</p> + +<p>“During the last two days,” he replied, “I have been unsuccessfully +trying to trace Colonel Montgomery. No matter what I did I failed. I got +hold of several of Mrs. Hillmer’s tradespeople, but she always paid her +bills with her own cheques, and none of them had ever heard of a Colonel +Montgomery. That furniture business puzzled me a lot—the change of the +drawing-room set from one flat to another on November 7, I mean. So I +discovered the address of the people who supplied the new articles to +Mrs. Hillmer—”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p><p>“How?”</p> + +<p>“Through the maid, Dobson. Mrs. Hillmer has given her notice to leave, +and the girl is furious about it, as she appears to have had a very easy +place there. I think it came to Mrs. Hillmer’s ears that she talked to +me.”</p> + +<p>“I see. Proceed.”</p> + +<p>“Here I hit upon a slight clue. It was a gentleman who ordered the new +furniture, and directed the transfer of the articles replaced from No. +61 to No. 12 Raleigh Mansions. He did this early in the morning of +November 7, and the foreman in charge of the job remembered that there +was some bother about it, as neither Mrs. Hillmer nor Mr. Corbett, as +Mensmore used to be called, knew anything about it. But the gentleman +came the same morning and explained matters. It struck the foreman as +funny that there should be such a fearful hurry about refurnishing a +drawing-room, for the gentleman did not care what the cost was so long +as the job was carried out at express speed. Another odd thing was that +Mrs. Hillmer paid for the articles, though she had not ordered them nor +did she appear to want them. The man was quite sure that Mensmore’s +first knowledge of the affair came with the arrival of the first batch +of articles from Mrs. Hillmer’s flat, but he could only describe the +mysterious agent as being a regular swell. He afterwards identified a +portrait of Sir Charles Dyke as being exactly like the man he had seen, +if not the man himself.”</p> + +<p>“How did you come to have a portrait of Sir Charles in your possession?”</p> + +<p>“That appears later,” said the detective, full of professional pride at +the undoubtedly smart manner in which he had manipulated his facts once +they were placed in order before him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p><p>“Of course,” he went on, “I jumped at the conclusion that the stranger +was this Colonel Montgomery. Then, while closely questioning the maid +about the events of November 7, she suddenly remembered that she lost an +old skirt and coat about that time. They had vanished from her room, and +she had never laid eyes on them since. This set me thinking. I +confronted her with the clothes worn by Lady Dyke when she was found in +the river, and I’m jiggered if Dobson didn’t recognize them at once as +being her missing property. Now, wasn’t that a rum go?”</p> + +<p>“It certainly was,” said Bruce, who was piecing together the story of +the murder in his mind as each additional detail came to light.</p> + +<p>“Naturally I thought harder than ever after that. It then occurred to me +that Jane Harding must have had some powerful reasons for so suddenly +shutting up about the identification of her mistress’s underclothing. +She was right enough, as we know, in regard to the skirt and coat, but +she admitted to me that the linen on the dead body was just the same as +Lady Dyke’s. Curiously enough, it was not marked by initials, crest, or +laundry-mark, and I ascertained months ago that owing to some fad of her +ladyship’s, all the family washing was done on the estate in Yorkshire. +This explained the absence of the otherwise inevitable laundry-mark.”</p> + +<p>“Thus far you are coherence itself.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Mr. White complacently, “I was a long time getting to work, +Mr. Bruce, and had it not been for your help I should probably never +have got at the truth, but I flatter myself that, once on the right +track, I seldom leave it. However, as I was saying, I felt that Jane +Harding knew a good deal more than she would tell, except under +pressure, so I decided to put that pressure on.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p><p>“In what way?”</p> + +<p>“I frightened her. Played off on her a bit of the stage business she is +so fond of. This afternoon I placed a pair of handcuffs in my pocket and +went to her place at Bloomsbury, having previously prepared a bogus +warrant for her arrest on a charge of complicity in the murder of Lady +Dyke.”</p> + +<p>“It was a dangerous game!”</p> + +<p>“Very. If it had gone wrong and reached the ears of the Commissioner or +got into the papers, I should have been reduced or dismissed. But what +is a policeman to do in such cases? I was losing my temper over this +infernal inquiry and never obtaining any real light, though always +coming across startling developments. It had to end somehow, and I took +the chance. The make-believe warrant and the production of handcuffs for +a woman—they are never used, you know, in reality—have often been +trump-cards for us when everything else failed.”</p> + +<p>“This time, then, the ‘properties’ made up the ‘show,’ as Miss Harding +would put it?”</p> + +<p>“They did, and no mistake. I gave her no time to think or act. I found +her sitting with her mother, admiring a new carpet she had just laid +down. I said, ‘Is your name Jane Harding, now engaged at the Jollity +Theatre, under the alias of Marie le Marchant, but formerly a maid in +the service of Lady Dyke?’ She grew very white, and said ‘Yes,’ while +her mother clutched hold of her, terrified. Then I whipped out the +warrant and the cuffs. My, but you should have heard them squeal when +the bracelets clinked together. ‘What has my child done?’ screamed the +mother. ‘Perhaps nothing, madam,’ I answered; ‘but she is guilty in the +eyes of the law just <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>the same if she persists in screening the guilty +parties.’ Jane Harding was trembling and blubbering, but she said, ‘It +is very hard on me. I have done nothing.’ I trembled myself then, as I +feared that she might offer to come with me to the police station, in +which case I should have been dished. But the mother fixed the affair +splendidly. ‘I am sure my daughter will not conceal anything,’ she said, +‘and it is a shame to disgrace her in this way without telling what it +is you want to know.’ I took the cue in an instant. ‘I am empowered,’ I +said, ‘to suspend this warrant, and perhaps do away with it altogether, +if she answers my questions fully and truthfully.’ ‘Why, of course she +will,’ said the mother, and the girl, though desperately upset, +whimpered her agreement. With that I got the whole story.”</p> + +<p>“Sir Charles Dyke inspired her actions, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“From the very beginning almost. At first Jane Harding herself believed, +when she gave evidence at the inquest, that the body she saw was not +that of Lady Dyke; but afterwards she changed her opinion, especially +when she recalled the exact pattern and materials of the underclothing. +Then my inquiries put her on the scent. Being rather a sharp girl, she +jumped to the conclusion that Sir Charles knew more about the matter +than he professed. In any case, her place was gone, and she would soon +be dismissed, so she resolved on a plan even bolder than mine in +threatening to lock her up. She watched her opportunity, found Sir +Charles alone one day, and told him that from certain things within her +knowledge, she thought it her duty to go to the police-station. He was +startled, she could see, and asked her to explain herself. She said that +her mistress had been killed, and she might be able to put the police on +the right track. He hesitated, not knowing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>what to say; so she hinted +that it would mean a lot of trouble for her, and she would prefer, if +she had £500, to go to America, and let the matter drop altogether. He +told her that he did not desire to have Lady Dyke’s name brought into +public notoriety. Sooner than to allow such a thing to occur he would +give her the money. An hour later he handed her fifty ten-pound notes.”</p> + +<p>“What a wretched mistake,” cried Bruce involuntarily. This unmasking of +his unfortunate friend’s duplicity was the most painful feature of all +to him.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it was,” replied the detective, “but the thing is not yet quite +clear to me. That is why I am here. But to continue. The girl admitted +that she lost her head a bit. Instead of leaving the house openly, +without attracting comment, she simply bolted, thus giving rise to the +second sensational element attending Lady Dyke’s disappearance. But she +resolved to be faithful to her promise. When you found her she held her +tongue, and even wrote to Sir Charles to assure him that she had not +spoken a word to a soul. He sent for her, and pitched into her about not +going to America, but took her address in case he wished to see her +again.”</p> + +<p>“He recognized her letter-writing powers, no doubt.”</p> + +<p>“Evidently. She was surprised last Thursday week to receive a telegram +asking her to meet him at York Station. When she arrived there he asked +her to write the letter he handed to you and to post it in London on +Saturday evening. He explained that his action was due to his keen +anxiety to shield his wife’s name, and that this letter would settle the +affair altogether. As he handed her another bundle of notes, and +promised to settle £100 a year on her for life, she was willing enough +to help him. During your interview with her you guessed the reason why +she wrote <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>Lady Dyke’s hand so perfectly. She had copied it for three +years.”</p> + +<p>“All this must have astonished you considerably?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Bruce, astonished isn’t the word. I was flabbergasted! Once she +started talking I let her alone, only rattling the handcuffs when she +seemed inclined to stop. But all the time I felt as if the top of my +head had been blown off.”</p> + +<p>“I imagine she had not much more to tell you?”</p> + +<p>“She pitched into you as the cause of all the mischief, and went so far +as to say that she was sure it was not Sir Charles who killed Lady Dyke, +but you yourself.”</p> + +<p>Bruce winced at Jane Harding’s logic. Were he able to retrieve the past +three months the mystery of Lady Dyke’s death would have remained a +mystery forever.</p> + +<p>“Now about the photograph,” said the detective. “After I had left Jane +Harding with a solemn warning to speak to no one until I saw her again, +I made a round of the fashionable photographers and soon obtained an +excellent likeness of Sir Charles. I showed it to Dobson, and she said: +‘That is Colonel Montgomery.’ I showed it to the foreman of the +furniture warehouse, and he said: ‘That is the image of the man who +ordered Mrs. Hillmer’s suite.’ Now, what on earth is the upshot of this +business to be? I called at Wensley House, but was told Sir Charles was +not in town. Had he been in, I would not have seen him until I had +discussed matters with you.”</p> + +<p>“That is very good of you, Mr. White. May I ask your reason for showing +him this consideration?”</p> + +<p>The policeman, who was very earnest and very excited, banged his hand on +the table as he cried:</p> + +<p>“Don’t you see what all this amounts to? I have no <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>option but to arrest +Sir Charles Dyke for the murder of his wife.”</p> + +<p>“That is a sad conclusion.”</p> + +<p>“And do you believe he killed her?”</p> + +<p>“Strange as it may seem to you, I do not.”</p> + +<p>“And I’m jiggered if I do either.”</p> + +<p>“I—I am greatly obliged to you, White.”</p> + +<p>Claude bent his head almost to his knees, and for some minutes there was +complete silence. When he again looked at the detective there were tears +in his eyes.</p> + +<p>“What can we do to unravel this tangled skein without creating untold +mischief?” he murmured.</p> + +<p>“It beats me, sir,” was the perplexed answer. “But when I came in I +imagined that Jane Harding or some one had been to see you. Surely, you +had learned something of all this before my arrival?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed. I had reached your goal, but by a different route. +Unfortunately, my discovery only goes to confirm yours.”</p> + +<p>Bruce then told him of his visit to the lawyer’s office, and its result. +Mr. White listened to the recital with knitted brows.</p> + +<p>“It is very clear,” he said, when the barrister had ended, “that Lady +Dyke was killed in Mrs. Hillmer’s flat, that Sir Charles knew of her +death, that he himself conveyed the body to the river bank at Putney, +and that ever since he has tried to throw dust in our eyes and prevent +any knowledge of the true state of affairs reaching us.”</p> + +<p>“Your summary cannot be disputed in the least particular.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Bruce, we must do <i>something</i>. If you don’t like to +interfere, then <i>I</i> must.”</p> + +<p>“There is but one person in the world who can enlighten <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>us as to the +facts. That person obviously is Sir Charles Dyke himself.”</p> + +<p>“Unquestionably.”</p> + +<p>Bruce looked at his watch. It was 10.30 <small>P.M.</small> He rose.</p> + +<p>“Let us go to him,” he said.</p> + +<p>“But he is not in London.”</p> + +<p>“He is. I expect you will find that he gave orders for no one to be +admitted, and told the servants to say he had left town to make the +denial more emphatic.”</p> + +<p>“It will be a terrible business, I fear, Mr. Bruce.”</p> + +<p>“I dread it—on my soul I do. But I cannot shirk this final attempt to +save my friend. My presence may tend to help forward a final and full +explanation. No matter what the pain to myself, I must be present. Come, +it is late already!”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h3> + +<h2>SIR CHARLES DYKE’S JOURNEY</h2> + +<p>The streets were comparatively deserted as they drove quickly up +Whitehall and crossed the south side of Trafalgar Square. It is a common +belief, even among Londoners themselves, that the traffic is dense in +the main thoroughfares at all hours of the night until twelve o’clock +has long past.</p> + +<p>But to the experienced eye there is a marked hiatus between half-past +nine and eleven o’clock. At such a time Charing Cross is negotiable, +Piccadilly Circus loses much of its terror, and a hansom may turn out of +Regent Street into Oxford Street without the fare being impelled to +clutch convulsively at the brass window-slide in a make-believe effort +to save the vehicle from being crushed like a walnut shell between two +heavy ’buses.</p> + +<p>Such considerations did not appeal to the barrister and his companion on +this occasion.</p> + +<p>For some inexplicable cause they both felt that they were in a desperate +hurry.</p> + +<p>A momentary stoppage at the turn into Orchard Street caused each man to +swear, quite unconsciously. Now that the supreme moment in this most +painful investigation was at hand they resented the slightest delay. +Though they were barely fifteen minutes in the cab, it seemed an hour +before they alighted at Wensley House, Portman Square.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p><p>In response to an imperative ring a footman appeared. Instead of +answering the barrister’s question as to whether Sir Charles was at home +or not, he said: “You are Mr. Bruce, sir, aren’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Sir Charles is at home, but he retired to his room before dinner. He is +not well, and he may have gone to bed, but he said that if you came you +were to be admitted. I will ask Mr. Thompson.”</p> + +<p>“Better send Thompson to me,” said Bruce decisively; and in a minute the +old butler stood before him.</p> + +<p>“I hear that Sir Charles has retired for the night,” said Claude.</p> + +<p>Thompson had caught sight of the detective standing on the steps. A few +hours earlier he had himself told him that the baronet was out of town. +It was an awkward dilemma, and he coughed doubtingly while he racked his +brains for a judicious answer.</p> + +<p>But Bruce grasped his difficulty. “It is all right, Thompson. Mr. White +quite understands the position. Do you think Sir Charles is in bed?”</p> + +<p>“I will go and see, sir. He was very anxious that you should be sent +upstairs if you called. But that was when he was in the library.”</p> + +<p>Bruce and the detective entered the hall, the butler closed the door +behind them, and then solemnly ascended the stairs to Sir Charles Dyke’s +bedroom, which was situated on the first floor along a corridor towards +the back of the house.</p> + +<p>They distinctly heard the polite knock at the door and Thompson’s query, +“Are you asleep, Sir Charles?”</p> + +<p>After a pause, there was another knock, and the same question in a +slightly louder key.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p><p>Then the butler returned, saying as he came down the stairs:</p> + +<p>“Sir Charles seems to be sound asleep, sir.”</p> + +<p>Bruce and the detective exchanged glances. The barrister was +disappointed, almost perturbed, but he said:</p> + +<p>“In that case we will not disturb him. Sir Charles does not often retire +so early.”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. I have never known him to go to his room so early before. He +told me not to serve dinner, as he wasn’t well. He would not let me get +anything for him. He just took some wine, and I have not seen him +since.”</p> + +<p>“Since when?”</p> + +<p>“About 7.30, sir.”</p> + +<p>Bruce turned to depart, but Thompson, with the privilege of an old +servant when talking to one whom he knew to be on familiar terms with +his master, whispered:</p> + +<p>“That there blessed maid turned up again this afternoon, sir.”</p> + +<p>The barrister started violently.</p> + +<p>“Not Jane Harding, surely?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. She came at four o’clock and asked for Sir Charles, as bold +as brass.”</p> + +<p>“Did he see her?”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Do you hear that, White?”</p> + +<p>The detective nodded.</p> + +<p>“She must have reached the house about half-an-hour before me,” he said, +addressing the butler.</p> + +<p>“That’s about right, sir.”</p> + +<p>“But I understood,” went on Bruce, “that Sir Charles was not at home to +ordinary callers?”</p> + +<p>Thompson shuffled about somewhat uneasily. He wished now he had held his +tongue.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p><p>“I had my orders, sir,” he murmured, in extenuation of his apparently +diverse actions.</p> + +<p>“Tell me what your orders were,” persisted Bruce.</p> + +<p>The man hesitated, not wishful to offend his master’s friend, but too +well trained to reveal the explicit instructions given him by Sir +Charles Dyke.</p> + +<p>“Do not be afraid. I will explain everything to Sir Charles personally. +We cannot best judge what to do—whether to wake him or not—unless we +know the position,” went on the barrister.</p> + +<p>Thus absolved from blame, Thompson took from his waistcoat pocket a +folded sheet of notepaper.</p> + +<p>“I don’t pretend to understand the reason, sir,” he said, “but Sir +Charles wrote this himself, and told me to be careful to obey him +exactly.”</p> + +<p>The barrister eagerly grasped the note and read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“If Mr. Bruce, Jane Harding, or Mrs. Hillmer should call, admit +any of them immediately. To all others say that I have left +town—some days ago, should they ask you.</p> + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 1.5em;">“C. D.”</span></p></div> + +<p>White, round-eyed and bullet-headed, gazed with goggle orbs over Bruce’s +shoulder.</p> + +<p>“That settles it, Mr. Bruce,” he said. “We <i>must</i> see him.”</p> + +<p>“Thompson,” said Bruce, “does Sir Charles usually lock his door?”</p> + +<p>“Never, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Very well. Knock again, and then try the door. We will go with you.”</p> + +<p>Something in the barrister’s manner rather than his words sent a cold +shiver down the old butler’s spine.</p> + +<p>“I do hope there’s nothing wrong, sir,” he commenced; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>but Bruce was +already half-way up the stairs. Both he and White guessed what had +happened. They knew that poor Thompson’s repeated summons at the bedroom +door would remain forever unanswered—that the unfortunate baronet had +quitted the dread certainties of this world for the uncertainties of the +next.</p> + +<p>They were not mistaken. A few minutes later they found him listlessly +drooping over the side of the chair in which he was seated, partly +undressed, and seemingly overcome at the moment when he was about to +take off his boots.</p> + +<p>On a table near him were two bottles, both half-emptied, and an empty +wineglass. Each of the bottles bore the label of a well-known chemist. +One was endorsed “Sleeping-draught,” the other “Poison,” and “Chloral.”</p> + +<p>The three men were pale as the limp, inanimate form in the chair while +they silently noted these details. Bruce raised the head of his friend +in the hope that life might not yet be extinct. But Sir Charles Dyke had +taken his measures effectually. Though the <i>rigor mortis</i> had not set +in, he had evidently been dead some time.</p> + +<p>Thompson, quite beside himself with grief, dropped to his knees by his +master’s side.</p> + +<p>“Sir Charles!” he wailed. “Sir Charles! For the love of Heaven, speak to +us. You can’t be dead. Oh, you can’t. It ain’t fair. You’re too young to +die. What curse has come upon the house that both should go?”</p> + +<p>Bruce leaned over and shook the old butler firmly by the shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Thompson,” he said impressively, for now that the crisis he feared had +come and gone, he exercised full control over himself. “Thompson, if you +ever wished to serve Sir Charles you must do so now by remaining calm. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>For his sake, help us, and do not create an unnecessary scene.”</p> + +<p>Governed by the more powerful nature, the affrighted man struggled to +his feet.</p> + +<p>“What shall I do?” he whimpered. “Shall I send for a doctor?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; say Sir Charles is very ill. Not a word to a soul about what has +happened until we have carefully examined the room.”</p> + +<p>At that instant Mr. White caught sight of a large and bulky envelope, +which had fallen to the floor near the chair on which Sir Charles was +seated.</p> + +<p>Picking it up, he found it was addressed, “Claude Bruce, Esq. To be +delivered to him <i>at once</i>.”</p> + +<p>“This will explain matters, I expect,” said the detective.</p> + +<p>“Whatever could have come to my master to do such a thing?” groaned +Thompson, turning to reach the door.</p> + +<p>“Come back,” cried Bruce sharply. “Now, look here, Thompson,” he went +on, placing both his hands on the butler’s shoulders and looking him +straight in the eyes, “it is imperative that you should pull yourself +together. That sort of remark will never do. Sir Charles has simply +taken an over-dose of chloral accidentally. He has slept badly ever +since Lady Dyke’s death, you understand, and has been in the habit of +taking sleeping-draughts. Now, before you leave the room tell me exactly +what has happened, in your own language.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t put it together now, sir, but I won’t say anything to anybody. +You can trust me for that. Why, I loved him as my own son, I did.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know that well. But remember. An over-dose. An accident. Nothing +else. Do you follow me?”</p> + +<p>“Quite, sir. Heaven help us all.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p><p>“Very well. Now send for the doctor, without needlessly alarming the +other servants.”</p> + +<p>Bruce placed the envelope in the pocket of his overcoat, saying to the +detective:</p> + +<p>“We will examine this later, White. Just now we must do what we can to +avoid a scandal. The case between Lady Dyke and her husband will be +settled by a higher tribunal than we had counted upon.”</p> + +<p>“It certainly <i>looks</i> like an accident, Mr. Bruce,” was the answer, “but +it all depends upon the view the doctor takes. And you know, of course, +that I shall have to report the actual facts to my superiors.”</p> + +<p>“That is obvious. Yet no harm is done at this early stage in taking such +steps as may finally render undue publicity needless. It may be +impossible; but on the other hand, until we have heard Sir Charles’s +version, contained, I suppose, in this letter to me, it is advisable to +sustain the theory of an accidental death.”</p> + +<p>“Anything I can do to help you will be done,” replied the detective. +With that they dropped the subject, and more carefully scrutinized the +room.</p> + +<p>To all intents and purposes Sir Charles Dyke might, indeed, have brought +about the catastrophe inadvertently. The sleeping-draught bore the +ledger number of its prescription, and there is nothing unusual in a +patient striving to help the cautious dose ordered by a physician by the +addition of a more powerful nostrum.</p> + +<p>His partly dressed state, too, argued that he had taken the fatal +mixture at a time when he contemplated retiring to rest forthwith. A +fire still burned in the grate. On the mantelpiece—in a position where +the baronet must see it until the moment when all things faded from his +vision—was a beautiful miniature of his wife.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p><p>The detective, with professional nonchalance, soon sat down. There was +nothing to do but await the arrival of the doctor, and, having heard his +report, go home.</p> + +<p>In the quietude of the room, with the strain relaxed, Bruce was +profoundly moved by the spectacle of his dead friend. Whatever his +logical faculties might argue, he could not regard this man as a +murderer. If Lady Dyke met her death at his hand then it must have been +the result of some terrible mistake—of some momentary outburst of +passion which never contemplated such a sequel.</p> + +<p>Poisons which kill by stupefaction do not distort their victims as in +cases where violent irritants are used. Sir Charles Dyke seemed to live +in a deep sleep, exhausted by toil or pain—sleep the counterfeit of +death—while the bright colors and speaking eyes of the miniature +counterfeited life. Standing between these two—both the mere images of +the man and the woman he had known so well—the barrister insensibly +felt that at last they had peace.</p> + +<p>It was his first experience of the tremendous change in the relationship +established by death. It utterly overpowered him. No mere words could +express his emotions. Between him and those that had been was imposed +the impenetrable wall of eternity.</p> + +<p>A bustle in the hall beneath aroused him from his grief-stricken stupor, +and Mr. White’s commonplace tones sounded strange to his ears.</p> + +<p>“Here’s the doctor.”</p> + +<p>A well-known physician hastened to the room. Thompson had carefully +followed instructions. The doctor was not prepared for the condition of +affairs that a glance revealed to his practised eye.</p> + +<p>“Surely he is not dead?” he cried, looking from the form in the chair to +the two men.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p><p>Bruce answered him:</p> + +<p>“Yes, for some hours, I fear, but we wanted to avoid spreading +unnecessary rumors until—”</p> + +<p>“I understand. My poor friend! How came this to happen?”</p> + +<p>The skilled practitioner merely lifted one of the dead man’s eyelids, +and then turned to examine the bottles on the table.</p> + +<p>“My own prescription,” he said, after tasting the contents of one phial. +“Ah, this was bad; why did he not consult me?” and he sadly shook his +head as he tasted the remaining liquid in the second.</p> + +<p>“What do you make of it?” said Bruce.</p> + +<p>He looked the other steadily in the face and the doctor interpreted the +cause of his anxiety.</p> + +<p>“A clear case of accidental poisoning,” he replied. “Sir Charles has +consulted me several times during the past week on account of his +extreme insomnia. I specifically warned him against overdoing my +treatment. Change of air, exercise, and diet are the true specifics for +sleeplessness, especially when induced, as his was, by a morbid state of +mind.”</p> + +<p>“You mean—”</p> + +<p>“That Sir Charles has never recovered from the shock of his wife’s +death. I did not know of it myself until it was announced recently, and +I gathered from him that the manner of her demise was partly unaccounted +for. Altogether, it is a sad business that such a couple should be taken +in such a manner.”</p> + +<p>Mr. White was industriously taking notes the while, and the doctor +regarded him with a questioning look.</p> + +<p>“This gentleman is in the police,” explained Bruce.</p> + +<p>“Indeed!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p><p>“Yes. We came here by mere accident. Mr. White and I were engaged in an +important inquiry—the cause of Lady Dyke’s disappearance, in fact—and +we hurried here at a late hour to consult with Sir Charles. Hence our +presence and this discovery.”</p> + +<p>“How strange!”</p> + +<p>“There is no reason now,” broke in the detective, “why the body should +not be moved?”</p> + +<p>Claude shuddered at the phrase. It suggested the inevitable.</p> + +<p>“Not in the least. I am quite satisfied as to the cause of death.”</p> + +<p>The despatch of telegrams and other necessary details kept Bruce busily +employed until two o’clock. Not until he reached the privacy of his own +library was he able to break the seal of the packet left for him as the +final act and word of the late Sir Charles Dyke.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h3> + +<h2>HOW LADY DYKE DISAPPEARED</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>(<i>Being the Manuscript left by Sir Charles Dyke, Bart., and addressed to +Claude Bruce, Esq., Barrister-at-law</i>)</p></div> + +<p>It is customary, I believe, for poor wretches who are sentenced to +undergo the last punishment of the law to be allowed a three weeks’ +respite between the date of their sentence and that on which they are +executed. I am in the position of such a one. The difference between me +and the convicted felon lies merely in environment; in most respects I +am worse situated than he. My period of agony is longer drawn out, I am +condemned to die by my own hand, I am mocked by the surroundings of +luxury, taunted by the knowledge that though life and even a sort of +happiness are within my reach I must not avail myself of them.</p> + +<p>There may come a time in the affairs of any man when he is compelled to +choose between a dishonored existence and voluntary death. These +unpleasant alternatives are now before me. You, who know me, would never +doubt which of them I should adopt, nor will you upbraid me because our +judgments coincide. There is nothing for it, Bruce, but quiet +death—death in the least obtrusive form, and so disposed that it may be +possible for you, chief among my friends and the only person I can trust +to fulfil my wishes, to arrange that my memory may be speedily +forgotten. My virtues, I fear, will not secure me immortality; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>my +faults, I hope, will not be spread broadcast to cram the maws of the +gaping crowd.</p> + +<p>I do not shirk this final issue, nor do I crave pity. In setting forth +plainly the history of my wife’s death and its results, I am actuated +solely by a desire to protect others from needless suspicion. Having +resolved to pay forfeit for my own errors, I claim to have expiated +them. This document is an explanation, not a confession.</p> + +<p>I have not much time left wherein fittingly to shape my story so as to +be just to all, myself included. If I am not mistaken, the officers of +the law are in hot chase of me, but my statement shall not be made to an +earthly judge. The words of a man about to die may not be well chosen; +they should at least be true. I will tell of events as nearly as +possible in their sequence of time. If I leave gaps through haste or +forgetfulness you will, from your own knowledge of the facts, readily +fill them up once you are in possession of the salient features.</p> + +<p>Mensmore and his sister were the friends of my early years. We played +together as children. Gwendoline Mensmore was two years younger than I, +and I well remember making love to her at the age of eleven. Her mother +died when she was quite a baby, and her father married again, so her +step-brother Albert is her junior by four years. I taught him how to +ride and swim and play cricket. My father’s place in Surrey—we +did not acquire the Yorkshire property until the death of my +grandfather—adjoined the estate General Mensmore occupied after his +retirement from the army.</p> + +<p>We children always called Gwendoline “Dick,” to avoid the difficulty of +her long-sounding name, I suppose, and I honestly believe that our +respective parents entertained the idea that a marriage between us was +quite a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>natural thing. I went to school at Brighton, and Mensmore, +being a somewhat precocious lad, joined the same school before I left. +The headmaster, the Rev. Septimus Childe, was an old friend of my +father’s, and when he wished to purchase a house at Putney—the terrible +house which has figured in my dreams for the past three months as a +Place of Skulls—my parents put pressure on my mother’s trustees to make +the transaction an easy one. Of course, I knew it well. We regarded it +in those early days as a town house, and always lived there during the +season.</p> + +<p>My father’s succession to the title and estates changed all that. We +quitted Surrey for Yorkshire, and Wensley House, Portman Square, was a +step upwards from the barrack-like building which so admirably suited +Mr. Childe’s requirements.</p> + +<p>When I was at Sandhurst General Mensmore got into difficulties. He +quitted Surrey, and we gradually lost sight of him and his children. +Afterwards I knew that he struggled on for a few years, placed his son +in the army, and then came a complete collapse, ending in his death and +the boy’s resignation of his commission. Of Gwendoline Mensmore’s +whereabouts I knew nothing. Her memory never quitted me, but the new +interests in my life dulled it. I imagined that I could laugh at a +childish infatuation.</p> + +<p>Then I married. I did so in obedience to my father’s wishes, and Alice +was, I suppose, an ideal wife—far too ideal for a youngster of my lower +intellectual plane. I know now that I never had any real affection for +her. I was always somewhat awed by her loftier aspirations. My interests +lay in racing, hunting, sports generally, and having what I defined as +“a good time.” She, though an excellent <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>horsewoman, and in every sense +an admirable hostess, thought Newmarket vulgar, treated Ascot as a +social necessity, and turned up her eyebrows at me when I failed to see +any utility in schemes for the reclamation of the submerged tenth.</p> + +<p>Thus, though we never quarrelled, we gradually drifted apart. She knew +she bored me if she asked me to inspect a model dwelling; I knew she +hated the people who were the companions of a coaching tour or a week at +Goodwood. Unfortunately, we were not blessed with offspring. Had it been +otherwise, we might have found a common object of interest in our +children.</p> + +<p>Insensibly, we agreed to a separate existence. We lived together as +friends rather than as husband and wife. We parted without regret and +met without cordiality. Do not think we were unhappy. If our marriage +was not bliss, it was at least comfortable. I think my wife was proud of +my successes on the turf in a quiet kind of way, and I certainly was +proud of her and of the high reputation she enjoyed among all classes of +society. I even reverenced her for it, and I well knew that the +enthusiastic receptions given us by our Yorkshire tenantry were not due +to my efforts in their behalf, but to hers.</p> + +<p>So we lived for nearly six years, and so we might have continued for +sixty had I not met Gwendoline Mensmore again, under vastly changed +circumstances. She was a chorus-girl in a variety theatre, earning a +poor living under wretched conditions. I discovered the fact by mere +chance.</p> + +<p>I met her, and she told me her story—how she had married a man named +Hillmer, whom her father had trusted, and whom she believed to be able +to save them from ruin. Then the crash came. Her father died; her +husband also broke down financially, took to drink and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>ill-treated her; +her brother was swallowed up somewhere in the Far West. She had no +alternative but to live apart from her husband and try to support +herself by the first career that suggests itself to a young, talented, +and beautiful woman. But she was already weary of the stage and its +distasteful surroundings. Her nature was too delicate for the rude +friendships of the dressing-room. She shuddered at the thought of a mild +carousal in a bar when the labors of the night were ended.</p> + +<p>In a word, were I differently constituted, were she cast in more common +mould, there was apparently ready to hand all the material for a vulgar +<i>liaison</i>.</p> + +<p>My respect for my wife, however, no less than Mrs. Hillmer’s fine +disposition, saved both of us from folly. Yet I could not leave her +exposed to the exigencies of a life in which she was rapidly becoming +disillusioned. Away in the depths of my heart I knew that this sweet +woman was my true mate, separated from me by adverse chance. There was +nothing unfair to Alice in the thought. Were she questioned at any time, +I suppose, she must have admitted that we were, in some respects, as +ill-matched a couple as we were well-matched in others. You will say +that I understood but little of feminine nature—nothing at all of my +wife’s.</p> + +<p>How best to help Mrs. Hillmer—that was the question. It was at this +stage I made the initial mistake to which I can, too late, trace a host +of succeeding misfortunes. I did not consult my wife. Trying now to +analyze my reasons for this lamentable error of judgment I imagined that +it arose from some absurd disinclination on my part to admit that I went +to the stage-door of a theatre to inquire about the identity of a young +woman whom I had recognized from the front of the house.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p><p>Don’t you see, my dear Bruce, it is almost as bad to fear your wife as +to suspect her.</p> + +<p>As, at that time, my own life was free from the slightest cloud of +sorrow, I took keen interest in the troubles of Mrs. Hillmer, and I +amused myself by playing, in her behalf, the part of a modern magician. +I felt intuitively that she would resent any direct attempt on my part +to place funds at her disposal, and I found a great deal of harmless fun +in helping her with her consent, but without her actual knowledge.</p> + +<p>I am, as you know, a rich man. At this hour I cannot sum up my available +assets to within £100,000. Altogether I must be worth nearly a million +sterling—yet my money cannot purchase me another day’s existence such +as I would tolerate. Strange, is it not?</p> + +<p>Well, the close of the year before last was a period of unexampled +activity on the Stock Exchange, and, by way of a joke, I made some +purchases on Mrs. Hillmer’s account, with the intention of pretending to +pay myself out of the profits, while handing her such balances as might +accrue. She is a shrewd woman, and quick at figures, so I might have +experienced some difficulty in deceiving her. But the mad record of the +past twelve months was in no wise belied by its inception. My purchases +were those of a man inspired by the Goddess of Fortune. Stocks which I +bought commenced suddenly to inflate. I astounded my brokers by the +manner in which I ferreted out neglected bonds, mines which struck the +mother lode next week, railway companies whose directors were even then +secretly conspiring to water the stock.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer became infected with the craze like myself. Twice we +plunged heavily in American Rails and came out triumphantly. To end this +part of my story, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>after five months of excitement I had contrived not +only to swell my own deposits to a large extent, but I had secured on +Mrs. Hillmer’s account a sufficient quantity of reliable stock to bring +her in an average income of £1,500 per annum.</p> + +<p>My greatest difficulty was to persuade Mrs. Hillmer to break off the +habit of speculation once she had contracted it. I found that she +perused the late editions of the evening papers with the same eagerness +that a bookmaker looks for the starting prices of the day’s races. By +the exercise of firmness and tact I was able to stop her from further +dealings.</p> + +<p>At the close of this period I need hardly say that two things had +happened. Mrs. Hillmer and I were fast friends, with common objects and +interests in life; and, concurrently, the ties between Alice and myself +had loosened still more.</p> + +<p>I also carelessly made another blunder. Under the pretence that secrecy +was requisite for Stock Exchange transactions, I persuaded Mrs. Hillmer +to allow me to pass under the name of Colonel Montgomery.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer, of course, was now able to live in comparative luxury. I +came to regard her house as an abode of rest. I was more at home in her +drawing-room than in my own house. She often spoke to me of my wife, and +obviously wished to see her, but here I did a cowardly thing. I +represented my married existence as far less comfortable than it really +was, and gradually Mrs. Hillmer ceased all allusion to Alice. She +misunderstood our relations. I knew it, and did not explain. Not a very +worthy proceeding for a man whose sense of honor is so keen that he +prefers death to disgrace. But one can deceive no other so easily as +oneself.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p><p>Occasionally, when opportunities offered, we went out together. It was +foolish, you will say, and I agree with you. If folly were not pleasant +it would not be so fashionable. But, to this hour, the relations between +us are those only of close friendship. Never in my life have I addressed +her by other than her married name, never have I touched her arm save by +way of casual politeness.</p> + +<p>I really think I flattered myself upon my superior virtues. I could see +all the excellence but none of the stupidity of my behavior.</p> + +<p>About this time, Mrs. Hillmer’s husband died. Thenceforth she became +slightly reserved in manner. When life was a defiance she fought +convention, but with safety came prudence. In fact, she told me that my +frequent visits to her house would certainly be ill-construed if they +became known. I was seeking for a pretext to introduce her to her own +set in society, when a double catastrophe occurred.</p> + +<p>My wife discovered, as she imagined, that I was clandestinely occupied +with another woman, and Mrs. Hillmer’s brother returned from America.</p> + +<p>It will best serve my hurried narrative if I relate events exactly as +they happened, and not as they look in the light of subsequent +knowledge.</p> + +<p>Mensmore was naturally astounded to find his sister so well provided +for, and gratefully accepted the help she gave him towards resuscitating +his own fortunes. But it did not occur to either of us that he would +take the ordinary view of the bond existing between us, and I shall +never forget his rage when he found out that I was not known to his +sister’s servants by my right name. It was an awkward position for all +three. He was loth to allege that which we did not feel called upon to +deny. But between <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>him and me there was a marked coolness, arising from +suspicion on his part and resentment on mine, coupled, I must add, with +an unquiet consciousness that his attitude was not wholly unreasonable.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer and he discussed the matter several times. He urged that +this compromising friendship should be discontinued. She—a determined +woman when her mind was made up—fought the suggestion on the ground of +unfairness, though, like myself, she would have been glad of any +accident which would alter the position of affairs.</p> + +<p>He interpreted her opposition to different motives. Finally, as his +financial position was a dangerous one, as we afterwards learned, and he +despaired of setting things straight in Raleigh Mansions—judging them +from his own point of view—he resolved to leave England again.</p> + +<p>And now I come to the night of November 6.</p> + +<p>It was, as you will remember, a foggy and unpleasant day. I had some +business in the city which detained me until darkness set in. I had not +seen Mrs. Hillmer for two days, so I resolved to drive to Sloane +Square—travelling by the Underground was intolerable in such +weather—and have tea with her.</p> + +<p>I did not know then that she had gone with her maid to +Brighton—intending to return that evening. It was a sudden whim, she +told me subsequently, and she had not even informed the other servants +of her intention.</p> + +<p>The pavements in the City were slimy with the dampness of the fog, and +as an empty four-wheeler passed through Cornhill I hailed it, a most +unusual choice on my part. The cabman, I noticed, was fairly elevated, +but as these fellows often drive better when drunk than sober, I simply +told him to be careful, and jumped in. I reached <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>Sloane Square all +right, and detained the cab for my intended journey home in time for +dinner.</p> + +<p>At the door of Mrs. Hillmer’s flat I met the cook and housemaid, both +going out to do some shopping, probably, in the spare hour before it was +time to prepare dinner.</p> + +<p>They knew me well, of course, and admitted me to the drawing-room, +telling me that Mrs. Hillmer was out, but would surely return very soon.</p> + +<p>I had not been in the room a minute before the sharp double knock of a +telegraph messenger brought the coachman, whom the girls left in charge +of the house, to the door, and I startled the man by appearing in the +hall, as he did not know of my presence.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Simmonds?” I said, as I correctly guessed the message to be +from Mrs. Hillmer.</p> + +<p>“The missus is in Brighton, sir,” he answered. “She wants the carriage +to meet her at Victoria at seven o’clock. It’s six now, and I ought to +go around to the stables at once, but both these blessed girls have gone +out. I’m in a fair fix.”</p> + +<p>“No fix at all,” I said. “I want to see Mrs. Hillmer, so I will wait +here until she arrives—or, at all events, till the servants come back.”</p> + +<p>The man scratched his head, but he could think of no better plan, so he, +too, went off, and I was left alone, for the first time in my life, in +Mrs. Hillmer’s abode. It is the small events that govern our lives, +Claude, not those that stand out prominently. The shopping expedition of +a couple of servant girls, intent on securing a new cap or a few yards +of calico, brought about my wife’s death, caused misery to many people, +and ends, I sincerely hope, in my own speedy leap into oblivion.</p> + +<p>I picked up a novel, “Tess of the D’Urbervilles,” hit <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>upon the terrible +episode that culminates on Salisbury Plain, and was soon deeply +interested, when another knock—this time an imperative summons long +drawn out—caused me to hasten to the door.</p> + +<p>I opened it, and in the dim light of the staircase landing, for a second +did not recognize the lady who stood outside. Heaven help me, I was soon +enlightened. My wife’s voice was bitterly contemptuous as she said:</p> + +<p>“You don’t keep a footman, it appears, in your new establishment, +Charles.”</p> + +<p>Had I been suddenly struck blind, or paralyzed, I could not have been +more dumfounded than by Alice’s unexpected appearance. A thorough +scoundrel might, perhaps, have thought of the best thing to say. I +blurted out the worst.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing <i>here</i>?” I stammered when my tongue recovered its +use.</p> + +<p>“No doubt you resent my appearance,” she cried, in a high, shrill tone I +had never before heard from her, “but I shall not trouble you further. I +merely came to confirm with my own eyes what my ears refused to +entertain. Now, I am satisfied.”</p> + +<p>She half turned with the intention of reaching the street, but, rendered +desperate by the absurdity of my position, I gripped her arm and pulled +her forcibly into the entrance-hall, closing and bolting the door behind +us.</p> + +<p>“You have seen too much not to see more,” I cried. “I will not allow you +to ruin both our lives by a mere suspicion.”</p> + +<p>She was in a furious temper, but her sense of propriety—for she did not +know that the servants’ quarters were empty—restrained her until we had +both entered the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>Then she burst upon me with a torrent of words.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h3> + +<h2>SIR CHARLES DYKE ENDS HIS NARRATIVE</h2> + +<p>“A mere suspicion, indeed!” she said, and there was that in her voice +which warned me that I had better try unarmed to control a tigress than +a wife who deemed herself wronged; “these are pretty <i>suspicions</i> that +surround you. A house tenanted by another woman where you are evidently +master! A mistress who left the ranks of the ballet, or something of the +sort, living in luxury on means supplied by you! A married woman who +casts off her husband with her poverty, to take up a paramour and +riches! Do you think you can blind my eyes further? I have the most +convincing proofs of your infamy. Do not imagine that on any specious +pretext I will condone your conduct. I despise you from the depths of my +heart. Henceforth I will strive to forget your very existence.”</p> + +<p>“Alice,” I said, and if she had not been blinded by passion she must +have been affected by my earnestness, “will you listen to me?”</p> + +<p>“Why should I? What respect have you shown to me that I should now seem +even to accept your excuses?”</p> + +<p>“I appeal to you not to do anything in anger. You have good reason to be +enraged with me. I only ask you to suspend your final judgment. Hear +what I have to say, take time for deliberation, for further inquiry, and +then condemn me to any punishment you think fit.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p><p>She did not answer me. Her eyes were roving round the room and taking +stock of every indication of poor Mrs. Hillmer’s artistic aptitude. The +place was eminently home-like, much more so than our elegant mansion in +Portman Square, and my wife noted the fact with momentarily increasing +bitterness. Yet I essayed my desperate task with failing nerve and +terrible consciousness of a bad cause.</p> + +<p>“Notwithstanding all that you have seen and heard,” I said, “I am not +guilty of the crime you accuse me of. Mrs. Hillmer is an old friend of +mine, whom I have helped from a state of misery to one of comfort and +comparative happiness. She is as pure-minded in thought, as spotless in +character, as you are yourself. You are doing her a grievous injustice +by doubting the relations between her and me. If you only knew her—”</p> + +<p>My wife laughed scornfully.</p> + +<p>“Pray spare yourself, Charles. I have never seen you so interested +before, but you lie badly, nevertheless.”</p> + +<p>“I do not lie. Before heaven I am telling you the truth.”</p> + +<p>“You are even willing to perjure yourself, <i>Colonel Montgomery</i>?”</p> + +<p>My poor armor was ill-fitted for this stroke. I suppose I must have +flinched before it, for she went on:</p> + +<p>“You see I am well posted. My detectives have done their work well. Oh, +Heaven, that I should ever have learned to love a vile wretch like you. +I thought you respected me, at least. I tried hard to bend my own wishes +to sympathy with yours, and I dreamt even of ultimate success. I knew +you didn’t care much for me, but the devotion of a slave has at times +been rewarded by the affection of her master. Fortunately, I am a slave +by <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>choice. It only required experience to break my bonds, and you have +supplied the experience.”</p> + +<p>For the first time in my life did it dawn on me that my self-contained +and haughty wife harbored other thoughts than a sentiment of respect for +an indulgent and easily controlled husband. It was a shock to me, a +deeper humiliation than she dreamed of. How could I expiate the past, +wipe out this record of error and folly, but not of ill-doing, and live +happily with her so long as Providence was pleased to spare us? While +these things ran through my brain she suddenly turned on me.</p> + +<p>“You fear exposure in the law courts! You dread your name figuring in a +society scandal! How little you know me. You naturally compare me by +your own contemptible standard. I left your house to-night determined +never to return to it should I find you here, as in all probability, I +was told, would be the case. I will go to my sister until I have +determined upon my future life. You, at least, will never, by my desire, +see or hear from me again. Thus far, I presume, I will fall in with your +views.”</p> + +<p>She would have passed me, but I held fast to the inside of the door. If +once she got away from me I might never be able to set affairs even +tolerably right. Better, I deemed, have one trying scene in the hope +that she would calm down in the face of facts, than allow her to carry +the quarrel to her relatives and strengthen her attitude by their +natural support.</p> + +<p>“Alice,” I said, “you shall not go.”</p> + +<p>“How can you dare to detain me?” she shrieked, and the glint in her eyes +showed how thoroughly her passions were aroused.</p> + +<p>“You can separate from me if you will. I shall not venture to hinder +you. But I swear you shall not do this rash <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>act without knowledge. I +tell you you must remain here. When you leave this house you do so in my +company.”</p> + +<p>“And why am I to be kept a prisoner?”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Hillmer will return in less than an hour. You have sought this +meeting yourself. Very well. You shall have it. When your charges have +been thoroughly thrashed out in the presence of Mrs. Hillmer and myself +I will then accompany you where you will, and leave you under the +protection of your sister, or any one else you choose, should you still +persist in leaving me.”</p> + +<p>Of course my action was unwise to the last degree. But remember, Claude, +that during these last awful five minutes I had seen a side of my wife’s +nature hidden from me six long years. And I was a man suddenly plunged +into a raging sea, drifting helplessly I knew not whither. All that +consumed me was a wild desire for such scant justice as I deserved. I +had erred, but my faults were not those my wife alleged against me.</p> + +<p>If she was angry before she was now absolutely uncontrollable.</p> + +<p>“What?” she screamed. “Remain to meet your—your mistress? Never, while +I have life!”</p> + +<p>She flung herself upon me so suddenly that she tore me away from the +door. She was a strong and athletic woman, and I suppose she expected +some resistance, for she used such force as to drag me forward into the +middle of the room, overturning a chair in the effort. I was so utterly +taken by surprise that I yielded to her violence more completely than +she expected.</p> + +<p>She staggered, let go her hold, and fell heavily backwards, tripping +over the fallen chair. I made a desperate attempt to save her, but only +caught the end of a fur necklet, and it tore like a spider’s web.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p><p>Her body crashed against a Venetian fender, and her head came with awful +force against a sort of support for the fire-irons that stood up a foot +from the ground.</p> + +<p>Then she rolled over, her eyes and face undergoing a ghastly change, and +instantly became, as I thought, unconscious.</p> + +<p>I knelt beside her, raising her head with my right hand, and brokenly +besought her to speak to me, when I would at once do anything she +demanded. But she gave no sign of animation. In a frenzy of despair, I +forced myself to examine her injuries, and my heart nearly stopped +beating when I discovered that a large piece of iron had been driven +into her brain through the back of her head.</p> + +<p>I knew in a moment that she was dead. Although I have not had much +experience of that terrible epoch in the human being, I have seen far +too much of death in animal life not to know that she who had been my +honored and respected wife now lay before me a mere soulless entity—a +symbol only of the splendid vital creature who, a minute earlier, was +angrily protesting against the supposed faithlessness of her mate.</p> + +<p>Looking back now upon the events of that fateful night, I marvel at the +appalling coolness which came to my aid as soon as I realized the extent +of the misfortune which had befallen both Alice and myself. I can fully +understand what is meant by the callousness of a certain class of +criminals, or the indifference to inevitable death betrayed by Eastern +races. No sooner was I quite assured that my wife was dead—dead beyond +hope or doubt—than I regained the use of my reasoning faculties in the +most marvellously cold-blooded degree.</p> + +<p>The actual difficulties of my position were enormous. I arraigned myself +before the judge and jury, and saw <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>clearly that every circumstance +which contributed to Alice’s suspicions in the first instance were now +magnified a hundred-fold by the manner and scene of her death.</p> + +<p>Before me, in ghostly panorama, moved the dread crowd of witnesses +against me, the degradation of my family, the bitter and vengeful +feelings of my wife’s relatives, the suffering of poor, unconscious Mrs. +Hillmer, the whole avalanche of horror and misery which this unfortunate +accident had precipitated upon every person who claimed my relationship +or friendship.</p> + +<p>My mental attitude was quite altruistic. Could I have undone the past, I +would cheerfully have undergone a painful and protracted death +forthwith.</p> + +<p>But no possible atonement on my part would restore Alice to life. I knew +it was quite improbable that I should be convicted of murdering her, +strong as the circumstantial testimony against me must be. The mere +legal consequences did not, however, weigh with me for a second. From +that awful hour I felt that I was doomed personally. My only thought was +to seek oblivion, not only for myself, but for all whom Alice’s death +might affect.</p> + +<p>Reasoning in this way, I rapidly resolved to make a bold effort to +conceal forever the time and place of the fatality. If I failed, I could +tell the truth; if I succeeded, I might, at my own expense, save a vast +amount of unnecessary sorrow.</p> + +<p>The desperate expedient came to me of carrying off the body to the +untenanted house at Putney where my old master had resided until his +death, utilizing the four-wheeled cab with its half-drunken driver for +the purpose.</p> + +<p>If I reached Putney unhindered, I could dispose of my terrible burden +easily, for the river flowed past the grounds, and every inch of the +locality was known to me.</p> + +<p>It occurred to me that perhaps the body might be found <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>and recognized. +Our personal linen was never marked, by reason of the fact that our +laundry work was done upon our Yorkshire estate, but as a temporary +safeguard I resolved to take some different and less valuable outer +clothes from Mrs. Hillmer’s residence.</p> + +<p>Her maid was of a similar build to my wife, so I hastened to the girl’s +room, and laid hands upon a soiled coat and skirt which were relegated +to the recesses of the wardrobe.</p> + +<p>I glanced at my watch as I came along the corridor. It was 6.15 <small>P.M.</small> All +the incidents I have related to you had happened within a quarter of an +hour. Oh, heaven! it seemed longer than all the preceding years of my +life.</p> + +<p>Having resolved upon a line of conduct, I pursued it with the +<i>sang-froid</i> and accuracy of one of the superior scoundrels delineated +by Du Boisgobey. The door of the flat was locked. If the servants, +hardly due yet, returned unexpectedly, I would send them off to Victoria +Station on some imaginary errand of their mistress’s.</p> + +<p>I knelt beside my poor wife’s body once more, and with great difficulty +took off her costume and loosely fastened on the maid’s garments.</p> + +<p>In her purse there were some bulky documents, which I afterwards +discovered to be the reports furnished by a firm of private detectives, +detailing all my movements with reference to Raleigh Mansions with +surprising accuracy. But she had concealed her name. These men +themselves only knew me as “Colonel Montgomery.”</p> + +<p>How Alice first came to suspect me I can only guess. Perhaps my +indifference, my absence from home at definite hours, a chance meeting +in the street unknown to me—any of these may have supplied the initial +cause, and led her to verify her doubts before taxing me with my +supposed iniquity.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p><p>Indeed, her final act in coming alone to Mrs. Hillmer’s abode, revealed +her fearless spirit and independent methods. She wanted no divorce court +revelations. She would simply have spurned me as an unworthy and +dishonorable wretch. Her small belongings I put in my pockets; the +clothes I made into a parcel and stuffed temporarily beneath my +overcoat.</p> + +<p>Then I unlocked the door, and went down the few steps to the main +entrance. There was no one about, the fog and sleet having cleared the +street—a quiet thoroughfare at all times.</p> + +<p>I took the risk of the maids coming back, and I ran to the square for my +conveyance. The driver had been improving the occasion, and was more +inebriated than before. He brought his cab to the door, and I knew, by +the appearance of things, that no one had entered during my absence.</p> + +<p>With some difficulty I lifted Alice’s body into my arms in as natural a +position as possible, and carried her to the cab, leaving the door of +the flat ajar. Luck still favored me. The cabman supposed that she, like +himself, was intoxicated. A man came down the opposite side of the +street, but he paid not the slightest heed to me, and, indeed, we were +but dimly visible to each other.</p> + +<p>Exerting all my strength unobtrusively, I placed my wife on the rear +seat, and then calmly gave the driver instructions. He grumbled at the +distance, but I told him I would pay him handsomely. Searching in my +pockets and Alice’s purse, I could only find twelve shillings, so, +although it was risky, to avoid a quarrel with the man, I determined to +give him a five-pound note.</p> + +<p>Thus far, all had gone well.</p> + +<p>The notion possessed me that, to all intents and purposes, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>I had +murdered my wife, and that I was now disposing of the visible signs of +my guilt in the most approved manner of a daring criminal. Whether I did +right or wrong I cannot, even at this late hour, decide. Should my death +induce forgetfulness, I am still inclined to think that I acted for the +best. My wife was dead; I was self-condemned. Why, then, allow others, +wholly innocent, to be dragged into the vortex?</p> + +<p>This was my line of thought. If you, reading this ghastly narrative, +shudder at my deeds, I pray you nevertheless to weigh in the balance the +good and ill that resulted from my actions.</p> + +<p>At last we reached Putney, and drew up at the end of the disused lane +which runs down by the side of the house to the river.</p> + +<p>Here, again, the road was deserted. I lifted my wife out, carried her to +the postern-gate, and returned to give the driver his note. The man was +so amazed at the amount that he whipped up his horse instantly, fearing +lest I should change my mind.</p> + +<p>I was about to force open the old and rickety door into the garden when +I remembered the drain-pipe jutting into the Thames—a place where, as a +child, I often caused much alarm by surreptitious visits for the purpose +of catching minnows. I quickly took off my coat and boots, turned up my +trousers and shirt-sleeves, and examined the pipe with my hands.</p> + +<p>It exactly suited my purpose. In half a minute I had firmly wedged my +wife’s body beneath it. This was the most horrible portion of my task. +The chill water, the desolation of the river bank, the mud and trailing +weeds—all these things seemed so vile and loathsome when <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span>placed in +contact with the mortal remains of my ill-fated Alice.</p> + +<p>She had loved me. I believe I loved her, as I assuredly do now when her +presence is but a memory, yet I was condemned to commit her to the +contaminating beastliness of such surroundings. It was a small matter, +in the face of death, but it has weighed on me since more than any other +feature of that cruel night’s history.</p> + +<p>Before leaving Putney I tied her clothes, hat, and furs to a couple of +heavy stones and threw the parcel into deep water.</p> + +<p>By train and cab I reached home but a few minutes late for dinner. It +was not difficult for me to act my part with the servants, nor keep up +the farce during the weary days that followed. My consciousness was so +seared by what I had gone through that the mere make-believe of my +position was a relief to me.</p> + +<p>That night, in the privacy of my room, I recollected the broken fender, +and feared lest the ironwork would supply a clue should the body be +discovered, a thing I deemed practically impossible.</p> + +<p>But, for Mrs. Hillmer’s sake, I took no risk. Next morning, before I saw +you at Tattersall’s, I made arrangements for the whole contents of her +drawing-room to be transferred to her brother’s flat, where, to my +knowledge, the articles were needed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer had gone out early, so the thing was done in her absence. +Her amazement was so great that she wired me, using as a signature the +pet name of her childhood, and this was the first message you heard the +groom refer to when he came a second time with the telegram from +Richmond.</p> + +<p>I wrote her a hurried note, explaining that I intended <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>the transfer as +a sop to her offended brother, but she had telegraphed again, and I had +to go to see her, to learn that Mensmore resented the gift, and had gone +off in a huff to Monte Carlo.</p> + +<p>A little later, I took the supreme step of writing a farewell letter. +Since my wife’s death I could not bear to meet any other woman. I +communed with my poor Alice more when dead than when alive.</p> + +<p>I do not think I have anything else to tell you. Step by step I watched +you and the police tearing aside my barrier of deceit. At times I +thought I would baffle you in the end. Were it not for my folly in +bribing Jane Harding I think I must have succeeded.</p> + +<p>That poor girl was the undoing of me in the first instance, and she now +has brought me my final sentence, for she came to-day and told me, with +tears, all that happened between the detective and herself. White, too, +put in an appearance.</p> + +<p>To-morrow, I suppose, he will bring a warrant, if you do not see him +first and tell him the truth.</p> + +<p>Do not misunderstand me. I am glad of this release. When you strove to +arouse me from my despair I did, for a little while, cherish the hope +that I might be able to devote my declining years to the work which +Alice herself took an interest in. But the web of testimony woven round +my old friend, Mensmore; the self-effacing spirit of his sister, who, to +shield me, was willing to sacrifice herself; the possibility that I +might involve these two, and perhaps others, in my own ruin—every +circumstance conspired to overwhelm me.</p> + +<p>I can endure no more, my dear Bruce. It is ended. The past is already a +dream to me—the future void. My poor nature was not designed to +withstand such a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>strain. The cord of existence has snapped, and I +cannot bring myself to believe it will be mended again. In bidding you +farewell I ask one thing. If you take a charitable view of my deeds, if +you consider that my penalty is commensurate with my faults, then you +might take my dead hand and say, “This was my friend. I pity him. May +the spirit of his wife be merciful unto him should they meet in the +regions beyond the grave.”</p> + +<p>And so, for the last time, I sign myself</p> + +<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 1.5em;"><span class="smcap">Charles Dyke</span>.</span></p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h3> + +<h2>VALEDICTORY</h2> + +<p>Much as Bruce would have wished to inter his dead friend’s secret with +his mortal remains in the tomb, it was impossible.</p> + +<p>Sir Charles Dyke’s sacrifice must not be made in vain, and the strange +chain of events encircled other actors in the drama too strongly to +enable the barrister to adopt the course which would otherwise have +commended itself to him. An early visit to Scotland Yard, where, in +company with Mr. White, he interviewed the Deputy Commissioner, and a +conference with the district coroner settled two important questions. +The police were satisfied as to the cause of Lady Dyke’s death, and the +coroner agreed to keep the evidence as to the baronet’s sudden collapse +strictly within the limits of the medical evidence.</p> + +<p>A wholly unnecessary public scandal was thus avoided.</p> + +<p>With Lady Dyke’s relatives his task required considerable tact. Without +taking them fully into his confidence, he explained that Sir Charles had +all along known the exact facts bearing upon her death and burial-place, +but for family reasons he thought it best not to disclose his knowledge.</p> + +<p>Bruce needed their co-operation in getting the home office to give the +requisite permission for Lady Dyke’s reburial. The circumstance that the +deceased baronet had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>left his estates to his wife’s nephew, joined to +the important position Bruce occupied as one of the trustees and joint +guardian, with the boy’s mother, of the young heir, smoothed over many +difficulties.</p> + +<p>After a harassing and anxious week Bruce had the melancholy satisfaction +of seeing the remains of the unfortunate couple laid to rest in the +stately gloom of the family vault.</p> + +<p>The newspapers, of course, scented a mystery in the proceedings, but +definite inquiry was barred in every direction. Even the exhumation +order gave no clue to the reasons of the authorities for granting it, +and in less than the proverbial nine days the incident was forgotten.</p> + +<p>Sir Charles had made it a condition precedent to the succession that his +heir should bear his name, and should live with his widowed mother on +the Yorkshire estate, or in the town house, for a certain number of +months in each year, until the boy was old enough to go to school.</p> + +<p>The stipulation was intended to have the effect of more rapidly burying +his own memory in oblivion. Bruce, too, was given a sum of £5,000, “to +be expended in bequests as he thought fit.”</p> + +<p>Claude understood his motive thoroughly. Jane Harding had been loyal to +her master in her way, so he arranged that she should receive an annual +income sufficient to secure her from want. Thompson, too, was provided +for when the time came that he was too feeble for further employment at +Portman Square, and Mr. White received a handsome <i>douceur</i> for his +services.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hillmer did not even know of Sir Charles Dyke’s death until weeks +had passed. Acting on Bruce’s advice her brother simply told her that +everything had been settled, and that the authorities concurred with the +barrister <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>in the opinion that Lady Dyke was accidently killed.</p> + +<p>When she had completely recovered from the shock of the belief that her +loyal friend had murdered his wife, Mensmore one day told her the whole +sad story. But he would allow no more weeping.</p> + +<p>“It is time,” he said, “that the misery of this episode should cease. +When the chief actor in the tragedy gave his life to end the suffering, +we would but ill meet his wishes by allowing it to occupy our thoughts +unduly in the future.”</p> + +<p>Mensmore’s marriage with Phyllis Browne was now definitely fixed for the +following autumn, so he carried his sister off with him on a hasty trip +to Wyoming in company with Corbett—a journey required for the +protection and development of their joint interests in that State.</p> + +<p>Not only did their property turn out to be of great and lasting value, +but during their absence the Springbok Mine began to boom. Even the +cautious barrister one day found himself hesitating whether or not to +sell at half over par, so excellent were the reports and so extensive +the dividends from that auriferous locality.</p> + +<p>The two young people were married, a scion of the house had become a +lusty two-year-old, Mr. White had become Chief Inspector, and Miss Marie +le Marchant had, by strenuous effort, risen to the dignity of double +crown posters as a “dashing comedienne”—when Bruce’s memories of his +lost friends were suddenly revived in an unexpected manner.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sydney H. Corbett came to him with measured questionings and +brooding thought stamped on his brows.</p> + +<p>“It’s like this,” he said, when they were settled down to details, “I +want to get married.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p><p>“To whom?” inquired Claude, wondering at the savage tone in which the +announcement was made.</p> + +<p>“To Mrs. Hillmer.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!”</p> + +<p>“That’s what everybody yells the moment I mention it. She screams ‘Oh!’ +and runs off with tears in her eyes. Her brother says ‘Oh!’ and looks +uncomfortable, but refuses to discuss the proposition. Now you say ‘Oh!’ +and gaze at me like an owl at the bare statement. What the dickens does +it all mean, I want to know? I’m not worrying about what happened years +ago. Mrs. Hillmer is just the sort of woman I require as a wife, and +I’ll marry her yet if the whole British nation says ‘Oh!’ loud enough to +be heard and answered by the U-nited States.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the proper sort of spirit in which to set about the business.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; but I can’t get any forrarder. There’s a kind of rock below +water which holds me up every time I shoot the rapids. She likes me well +enough, I know. She calls me ‘Syd’ as slick as butter, and I call her +‘Gwen’; but there you are—if I want to go ahead a bit she pulls up and +weeps. Now, why the—”</p> + +<p>“Steady, Mr. Corbett. Women weep for many reasons. Do you know her +history?”</p> + +<p>“No, and I don’t want to.”</p> + +<p>“But perhaps that is exactly what she does want. Remember that she has +been married before, with somewhat bitter experience. She probably +believes that a husband and wife should have no secrets from each other. +Above all else, there should be no cloud between them as to bygone +events. Mrs. Hillmer is highly sensitive. If she imagined you were under +any misapprehension as to the circumstances under which Sir Charles and +Lady Dyke <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>met their deaths—do not forget that you were personally +mixed up in the affair—she would neither entertain your proposal nor +explain her motives. She would just do as you say—run away and cry.”</p> + +<p>“Well, now, that beats everything,” said Corbett admiringly. “That never +struck me before.”</p> + +<p>“It is the probable explanation of her attitude, nevertheless.”</p> + +<p>“Then what am I to do?”</p> + +<p>“Write to her. Ask her permission to learn the facts from me. Tell her +you believe you understand the reasons for her reticence, and that your +only excuse for the request is that you want to go to her on an equal +plane of absolute confidence. It seems to me—”</p> + +<p>“That I’d better get quick and do it,” shouted Corbett, vanishing with +the utmost celerity.</p> + +<p>Bruce still occupied his old chambers in Victoria Street. He did not +expect to see Corbett again for a couple of days. To the barrister’s +utter amazement he returned within ten minutes.</p> + +<p>“Fire away!” he cried excitedly. “You struck it first time. I just rang +her up—”</p> + +<p>“Rang her up?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; she’s staying at the Savoy for a few days, so I telephoned from +the Windsor. I could never fix up a letter in your words, you know. But +switch me on the end of a wire and I know where I am.”</p> + +<p>“What on earth did you say?”</p> + +<p>“As soon as I got her in the box at the other end, I said, ‘Is that you, +Gwen?’ ‘Yes,’ said she. ‘Well,’ said I, ‘I guess you know who’s +talking?’ ‘Quite well,’ said she. ‘Then,’ said I, ‘I’ve just been +telling Mr. Bruce I wanted to marry you, and that you wouldn’t even +discuss the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>proposition. He said you probably wished me to know the +whole story of Sir Charles Dyke, but felt kinder shy of telling me +yourself. He will get it off his chest if you give him permission, and +then I can come along in a hansom and fix things. What do you say?’ +There was no answer, so I shouted, ‘Are you there?’ and she said, ‘Yes,’ +faint-like. ‘Don’t let me hurry you,’ said I, ‘but if you agree +straight-away I can catch Bruce at home, for I’ve just left him.’ With +that she said, ‘Very well. You can see Mr. Bruce.’ And here I am.”</p> + +<p>“Having accomplished the whole thing satisfactorily.”</p> + +<p>“As how?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you see you have proposed to the lady and practically been +accepted?”</p> + +<p>“Jehosh! It does look something like it. Say, I’m off! This story of +yours will keep until to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>He would have gone, but Bruce jumped after him.</p> + +<p>“Not so fast, Mr. Corbett. You must not sail into the Savoy flying a +false flag. Kindly oblige me with your attention for the next +half-hour.”</p> + +<p>With that, he unlocked a safe and took from its recesses Sir Charles +Dyke’s “confession.” He read the whole of its opening passages, +explaining the relations between Mrs. Hillmer and her unfortunate but +abiding friend.</p> + +<p>The straightforward, honest sentences sounded strangely familiar at this +distance of time. Bruce was glad of the opportunity of reading them +aloud. It seemed a fitting thing that this testimony should come, as it +were, from the tomb.</p> + +<p>Corbett listened intently to the recital and to the barrister’s summary +of the events that followed.</p> + +<p>“Poor chap!” he said, when the sad tale had ended. “I hope you shook +hands with him as he asked you to do?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p><p>“I did. Would that my grasp had the power to reassure him of my +heartfelt sympathy.”</p> + +<p>For a little while they were silent.</p> + +<p>“So,” said Corbett at last, “Gwen thought I would make the same mistake +as the poor lady, and suspect her wrongfully.”</p> + +<p>“No, not that. But naturally she wished the man whom she could trust as +a husband to be wholly cognizant of events in which already he had +participated slightly.”</p> + +<p>“She was right. I like her all the better for it. But, tell me, is there +any necessity for that wonderful document to be preserved?”</p> + +<p>“Not the slightest. It has served its last use.”</p> + +<p>“Then put it in the fire.”</p> + +<p>Bruce did not hesitate a moment to comply with the wish. The flames +devoured the record with avidity, and the two men watched the manuscript +crumbling into nothingness. Then Corbett said:</p> + +<p>“I must be off to the Savoy.”</p> + +<p>“Good-bye, old chap,” said Bruce. “And good luck to you, too. I +congratulate both Mrs. Hillmer and yourself.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Transcriber’s Note:</span></h3> + +<p>Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters’ errors; otherwise, every effort +has been made to remain true to the author’s words and intent.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A Mysterious Disappearance, by Gordon Holmes + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE *** + +***** This file should be named 34277-h.htm or 34277-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/2/7/34277/ + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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.org + + +Title: A Mysterious Disappearance + +Author: Gordon Holmes + +Release Date: November 11, 2010 [EBook #34277] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE *** + + + + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + A MYSTERIOUS + DISAPPEARANCE + + BY + GORDON HOLMES + + NEW YORK + EDWARD J. CLODE + 156 FIFTH AVENUE + 1905 + + + + + Copyright, 1905, by + EDWARD J. CLODE + + _The Plimpton Press Norwood Mass._ + + + + + CONTENTS + + + I "_Last Seen at Victoria_!" 1 + II _Inspector White_ 12 + III _The Lady's Maid_ 22 + IV _No. 61 Raleigh Mansions_ 30 + V _At the Jollity Theatre_ 41 + VI _Miss Marie le Marchant_ 48 + VII _In the City_ 56 + VIII _The Hotel du Cercle_ 64 + IX _Breaking the Bank_ 72 + X _Some Good Resolutions_ 83 + XI _Theories_ 91 + XII _Who Corbett Was_ 101 + XIII _A Question of Principle_ 109 + XIV _No. 12 Raleigh Mansions_ 119 + XV _Mrs. Hillmer Hesitates_ 131 + XVI _Foxey_ 142 + XVII _A Possible Explanation_ 152 + XVIII _What Happened on the Riviera_ 163 + XIX _Where Mrs. Hillmer Went_ 175 + XX _Mr. Sydney H. Corbett_ 183 + XXI _How Lady Dyke Left Raleigh Mansions_ 194 + XXII _A Wilful Murder_ 205 + XXIII _The Letter_ 216 + XXIV _The Handwriting_ 225 + XXV _Miss Phyllis Browne Intervenes_ 234 + XXVI _Lady Helen Montgomery's Son_ 246 + XXVII _Mr. White's Method_ 254 + XXVIII _Sir Charles Dyke's Journey_ 264 + XXIX _How Lady Dyke Disappeared_ 274 + XXX _Sir Charles Dyke Ends His Narrative_ 285 + XXXI _Valedictory_ 297 + + + + +CHAPTER I + +"LAST SEEN AT VICTORIA!" + + +Alice, Lady Dyke, puckered her handsome forehead into a thoughtful frown +as she drew aside the window-curtains of her boudoir and tried to look +out into the opaque blackness of a November fog in London. + +Behind her was cheerfulness--in front uncertainty. Electric lights, a +nice fire reflected from gleaming brass, the luxury of carpets and +upholstery, formed an alluring contrast to the dull yellow glare of a +solitary lamp in the outer obscurity. + +But Lady Dyke was a strong-minded woman. There was no trace of doubt in +the wrinkled brows and reflective eyes. She held back the curtains with +her left hand, buttoning a glove at the wrist with the other. Fog or no +fog, she would venture forth, and she was already dressed for the +weather in tailor-made costume and winter toque. + +She was annoyed, but not disconcerted by the fog. Too long had she +allowed herself to take things easily. The future was as murky as +the atmosphere; the past was dramatically typified by the pleasant +surroundings on which she resolutely turned her back. Lady Dyke was +quite determined as to her actions, and a dull November night was a +most unlikely agent to restrain her from following the course she had +mapped out. + +Moving to the light again, she took from her pocket a long, closely +written letter. Its details were familiar to her, but her face hardened +as she hastily ran through it in order to find a particular passage. + +At last she gained her object--to make quite sure of an address. Then +she replaced the document, stood undecided for a moment, and touched an +electric bell. + +"James," she said, to the answering footman, "I am going out." + +"Yes, milady." + +"Sir Charles is not at home?" + +"No, milady." + +"I am going to Richmond--to see Mrs. Talbot. I shall probably not return +in time for dinner. Tell Sir Charles not to wait for me." + +"Shall I order the carriage for your ladyship?" + +"Will you listen to me and remember what I have said?" + +"Yes, milady." + +James ran downstairs, opened the door, bowed as Lady Dyke passed into +Portman Square, and then confidentially informed Buttons that "the +missus" was in a "rare old wax" about something. + +"She nearly jumped down my bloomin' throat when I asked her if she would +have the carriage," he said. + +Her ladyship's mood did not soften when she drifted from the fixed +tenure of Wensley House, Portman Square, into the chaos of Oxford Street +and fog at 5.30 on a November evening. + +Though not a true "London particular," the fog was chilly, exasperating, +tedious. People bumped against each other without apology, 'buses +crunched through the traffic with deadly precision, pair-horse vans +swept around corners with magnificent carelessness. + +In the result, Lady Dyke, who meant to walk, as she was somewhat in +advance of the time she had fixed on for this very important engagement, +took a hansom. In her present mood slight things annoyed her. Usually, +the London cab-horse is a thoughtful animal; he refuses to hurry; when +he falls he lies contented, secure in the knowledge that for five +blissful minutes he will be at complete rest. But this misguided +quadruped flew as though oats and meadow-grass awaited him at Victoria +Station on the Underground Railway. + +He raced down Park Lane, skidded past Hyde Park Corner, and grated the +off-wheel of the hansom against the kerb outside the station within +eight minutes. + +In other words, her ladyship, if she would obey the directions contained +in the voluminous letter, was compelled to kill time. + +As she stepped from the vehicle and halted beneath a lamp to take a +florin from her purse, a tall, ulster-wrapped gentleman, walking rapidly +into Victoria Street, caught a glimpse of her face and well-proportioned +form. + +Instantly his hat was off. + +"This is an unexpected pleasure, Lady Dyke. Can I be of any service?" + +She bit her lip, not unobserved, but the law of Society forced her +features into a bright smile. + +"Oh, Mr. Bruce, is it you? I am going to see my sister at Richmond. +Isn't the weather horrid? I shall be so glad if you will put me into the +right train." + +Mr. Claude Bruce, barrister and man about town, whose clean-cut features +and dark, deep-set eyes made him as readily recognizable, knew that she +would have been much better pleased had he passed without greeting. Like +the footman, he wondered why she did not drive in her carriage rather +than travel by the Underground Railway on such a night. He guessed that +she was perturbed--that her voluble explanation was a disguise. + +He reflected that he could ill afford any delay in dressing for a +distant dinner--that good manners oft entail inconvenience--but of +course he said: + +"Delighted. Have you any wraps?" + +"No, I am just going for a chat, and shall be home early." + +He bought her a first-class ticket, noting as an odd coincidence that it +bore the number of the year, 1903, descended to the barrier, found that +the next train for Richmond passed through in ten minutes, fumed +inwardly for an instant, explained his presence to the ticket-collector, +and paced the platform with his companion. + +Having condemned the fog, and the last play, and the latest book, they +were momentarily silent. + +The newspaper placards on Smith & Son's bookstall announced that a +"Great Society Scandal" was on the tapis. "The Duke in the Box" formed a +telling line, and the eyes of both people chanced on it simultaneously. + +Thought the woman: "He is a man of the world, and an experienced lawyer. +Shall I tell him?" + +Thought the man: "She wants to take me into her confidence, and I am too +busy to be worried by some small family squabble." + +Said she: "Are you much occupied at the Courts just now, Mr. Bruce?" + +"No," he replied; "not exactly. My practice is more consultive than +active. Many people seek my advice about matters of little interest, +never thinking that they would best serve their ends by acting +decisively and promptly themselves." + +Lady Dyke set her lips. She could be both prompt and decisive. She +resolved to keep her troubles, whatever they were, locked in the secrecy +of her own heart, and when she next spoke of some trivial topic the +barrister knew that he had been spared a recital. + +He regretted it afterwards. + +At any other moment in his full and useful life he would have encouraged +her rather than the reverse. Even now, a few seconds too late, he was +sorry. He strove to bring her back to the verge of explanations, but +failed, for her ladyship was a proud, self-reliant personage--one who +would never dream of risking a rebuff. + +A train came, with "Richmond" staring at them from the smoke and steam +of the engine. + +"Good-bye!" he said. + +"Good-bye!" + +"Shall I see you again soon?" + +"I fear not. It is probable that I shall leave for the South of France +quite early." + +And she was gone. Her companion rushed to the street, and almost ran to +his Victoria Street chambers. It was six o'clock. He had to dress and +drive all the way to Hampstead for dinner at 7.30. + + * * * * * + +At ten minutes past nine Sir Charles Dyke entered Wensley House. A +handsome, quiet, gentlemanly man was Sir Charles. He was rich--a +Guardsman until the baronetcy devolved upon him, a popular figure in +Society, esteemed a trifle fast prior to his marriage, but sobered down +by the cares of a great estate and a vast fortune. + +His wife and he were not well-matched in disposition. + +She was too earnest, too prim, for the easy-going baronet. He respected +her, that was all. A man of his nature found it impossible to realize +that the depths of passion are frequently coated over with ice. Their +union was irreproachable, like their marriage settlements; but there are +more features in matrimony than can be disposed of by broad seals and +legal phrases. + +Unfortunately, they were childless, and were thus deprived of the one +great bond which unites when others may fail. + +Sir Charles was hurried, if not flurried. His boots were muddy and his +clothes splashed by the mire of passing vehicles. + +"I fear I am very late for dinner," he said to the footman who took his +hat and overcoat. "But I shall not be five minutes in dressing. Tell her +ladyship--" + +"Milady is not at home, Sir Charles." + +"Not at home!" + +"Milady went out at half-past five, saying that she was going to +Richmond to see Lady Edith Talbot, and that you were not to wait dinner +if she was late in returning." + +Sir Charles was surprised. He looked steadily at the man as he said: + +"Are you quite sure of her ladyship's orders?" + +"Quite sure, Sir Charles." + +"Did she drive?" + +"No, Sir Charles. She would not order the carriage when I suggested it." + +The baronet, somewhat perplexed, hesitated a moment. Then he appeared to +dismiss the matter as hardly worth discussion, saying, as he went up +stairs: + +"Dinner almost immediately, James." + +During the solitary meal he was preoccupied, but ate more than usual, in +the butler's judgment. Finding his own company distasteful, he discussed +the November Handicap with the butler, and ultimately sent for an +evening paper. + +Opening it, the first words that caught his eye were, "Murder in the +West End." He read the paragraph, the record of some tragic orgy, and +turned to the butler. + +"A lot of these beastly crimes have occurred recently, Thompson." + +"Yes, Sir Charles. There's bin three since the beginning of the month." + +After a pause. "Did you hear that her ladyship had gone to Richmond?" + +"Yes, Sir Charles." + +"Do you know how she went?" + +"No, Sir Charles." + +"I wanted to see her to-night, _very_ particularly. Order the brougham +in ten minutes. I am going to the Travellers' Club. I shall be home +soon--say eleven o'clock--when her ladyship arrives." + +The baronet was driven to and from the club by his own coachman, but on +returning to Wensley House was told that his wife was still absent. + +"No telegram or message?" + +"No, Sir Charles." + +"I suppose she will stay with her sister all night, and I shall have a +note in the morning to say so. Just like a woman. Now if I did that, +James, there would be no end of a row. Anxiety, and that sort of thing. +Call me at 8.30." + +An hour later Sir Charles Dyke left the library and went to bed. + +At breakfast next morning the master of the house rapidly scanned the +letters near his plate for the expected missive from his wife. There was +none. + +A maid was waiting. He sent her to call the butler. + +"Look here, Thompson," he cried, "her ladyship has not written. Don't +you think I had better wire? It's curious, to say the least, going off +to Richmond in this fashion, in a beastly fog, too." + +Thompson was puzzled. He had examined the letters an hour earlier. But +he agreed that a telegram was the thing. + +Sir Charles wrote: "Expected to hear from you. Will you be home to +lunch? Want to see you about some hunters"; and addressed it to his wife +at her sister's residence. + +"There," he said, turning to his coffee and sole. "That will fetch her. +We are off to Leicestershire next week, Thompson. By the way, I am going +to a sale at Tattersall's. Send a groom there with her ladyship's answer +when it comes." + +He had not been long at the sale yard when a servant arrived with a +telegram. + +"Ah, the post-office people are quick this morning," he said, smiling. +He opened the envelope and read: + + "Want to see you at once.--DICK." + +He was so surprised by the unexpected nature of the message that he read +the words aloud mechanically. But he soon understood, and smiled again. + +"Go back quickly," he said to the man, "and tell Thompson to send along +the next telegram." + +A consignment of Waterford hunters was being sold at the time, and the +baronet was checking the animals' descriptions on the catalogue, when +he was cheerily addressed: + +"Hallo, Dyke, preparing for the shires, eh?" + +Wheeling round, the baronet shook hands with Claude Bruce. + +"Yes--that is, I am looking out for a couple of nice-mannered ones for +my wife. I have six eating their heads off at Market Harborough now." + +Bruce hesitated. "Will Lady Dyke hunt this season?" he asked. + +"Well, hardly that. But she likes to dodge about the lanes with the +parson and the doctor." + +"I only inquired because she told me last night that she would probably +winter in the South of France." + +"Told you--last night--South of France!" Sir Charles Dyke positively +gasped in his amazement. + +"Why, yes. I met her at Victoria. She was going to Richmond to see her +sister, she said." + +"I am jolly glad to hear it." + +"Glad! Why?" + +"Because I have not seen her myself since yesterday morning. She went +off mysteriously, late in the afternoon, leaving a message with the +servants. Naturally I am glad to hear from you that she got into the +train all right." + +"I put her in the carriage myself. Have you not heard from her?" + +"No. I wired this morning, and expect an answer at any moment. But what +is this about the South of France? We go to Leicestershire next week." + +"I can't say, of course. Your wife seemed to be a little upset about +something. She only mentioned her intention casually--in fact, when I +asked if we would meet soon." + +The other laughed, a little oddly in the opinion of his astute observer, +and dismissed the matter by the remark that the expected message from +his wife would soon clear the slight mystery attending her movements +during the past eighteen hours. + +The two men set themselves to the congenial task of criticizing the +horses trotting up and down the straw-covered track, and Sir Charles had +purchased a nice half-bred animal for forty guineas when his groom again +saluted him. + +"Please, sir," said the man, "here's another telegram, and Thompson told +me to ask if it was the right one." + +Sir Charles frowned at the interruption--a second horse of a suitable +character was even then under the hammer--but he tore open the envelope. +At once his agitation became so marked that Bruce cried: + +"Good heavens, Dyke, what is it? No bad news, I hope?" + +The other, by a strong effort, regained his self-control. + +"No, no," he stammered; "it is all right, all right. She has gone +somewhere else. See. This is from her sister, Mrs. Talbot. Still, I wish +Alice would consider my natural anxiety a little." + +Bruce read: + + "I opened your message. Alice not here. I have not seen her for + over a week. What do you mean by wire? Am coming to town at + once.--EDITH." + +The baronet's pale face and strained voice betrayed the significance of +the thought underlying the simple question. + +"What do you make of it, Claude?" + +Bruce, too, was very grave. "The thing looks queer," he said; "though +the explanation may be trifling. Come, I will help you. Let us reach +your house. It is the natural centre for inquiries." + +They hailed a hansom and whirled off to Portman Square. They did not say +much. Each man felt that the affair might not end so happily and +satisfactorily as he hoped. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +INSPECTOR WHITE + + +Lady Dyke had disappeared. + +Whether dead or alive, and if alive, whether detained by force or absent +of her own unfettered volition, this handsome and well-known leader of +Society had vanished utterly from the moment when Claude Bruce placed +her in a first-class carriage of a Metropolitan Richmond train at +Victoria Station. + +At first her husband and relatives hoped against hope that some +extraordinary tissue of events had contributed to the building up of a +mystery which would prove to be no mystery. + +Yet the days fled, and there was no trace of her whereabouts. + +At the outset, the inquiry was confined to the circle of friends and +relatives. Telegrams and letters in every possible direction suggested +by this comparatively restricted field showed conclusively that not only +had Lady Dyke not been seen, but no one had the slightest clue to the +motives which might induce her to leave her home purposely. + +So far as her distracted husband could ascertain, she did not owe a +penny in the world. She was a rich woman in her own right, and her +banking account was in perfect order. + +She was a woman of the domestic temperament, always in close touch with +her family, and those who knew her best scouted the notion of any petty +intrigue which would move her, by fear or passion, to abandon all she +held dear. + +The stricken baronet confided the search only to his friend Bruce. He +brokenly admitted that he had not sufficiently appreciated his wife +while she was with him. + +"She was of a superior order to me, Claude," he said. "I am hardly a +home bird. Her ideals were lofty and humanitarian. Too often I was out +of sympathy with her, and laughed at her notions. But, believe me, we +never had the shadow of a serious dispute. Perhaps I went my own way a +little selfishly, but at the time, I thought that she, on her part, was +somewhat straight-laced. I appreciate her merits when it is too late." + +"But you must not assume even yet that she is dead." The barrister was +certain that some day the mystery would be elucidated. + +"She is. I feel that. I shall never see her on earth again." + +"Oh, nonsense, Dyke. Far more remarkable occurrences have been +satisfactorily cleared up." + +"It is very good of you, old chap, to take this cheering view. Only, you +see, I know my wife's character so well. She would die a hundred times +if it were possible rather than cause the misery to her people and +myself which, if living, she knows must ensue from this terrible +uncertainty as to her fate." + +"Scotland Yard is still sanguine." This good-natured friend was +evidently making a conversation. + +"Oh, naturally. But something tells me that my wife is dead, whether by +accident or design it is impossible to say. The police will cling to +the belief that she is in hiding in order to conceal their own inability +to find her." + +"A highly probable theory. Are your servants to be trusted?" + +"Y--es. They have all been with us some years. Why do you ask?" + +"Because I am anxious that nothing of this should get into the papers. I +have caused paragraphs to be inserted in the fashionable intelligence +columns that Lady Dyke has gone to visit some friends in the Midlands. +For her own sake, if she be living, it is best to choke scandal at its +source." + +"Well, Bruce, I leave everything to you. Make such arrangements as you +think fit." + +The barrister's mobile face softened with pity as he looked at his +afflicted friend. + +In four days Sir Charles Dyke had aged many years in appearance. No one +who was acquainted with him in the past would have imagined that the +loss of his wife could so affect him. + +"I have done all that was possible, yet it is very little," said Bruce, +after a pause. "You are aware that I am supposed to be an adept at +solving curious or criminal investigations of an unusual class. But in +this case, partly, I suspect, because I myself am the last person who, +to our common knowledge, saw Lady Dyke alive on Tuesday night, I am +faced by a dead wall of impenetrable fact, through which my intellect +cannot pierce. Yet I am sure that some day this wretched business will +be intelligible. I will find her if living; I will find her murderer if +she be dead." + +Not often did Claude Bruce allow his words to so betray his thoughts. + +Both men were absorbed by the thrilling sensations of the moment, and +they were positively startled when a servant suddenly announced: + +"Inspector White, of Scotland Yard." + +A short, thick-set man entered. He was absolutely round in every part. +His sturdy, rotund frame was supported on stout, well-moulded legs. His +bullet head, with close-cropped hair, gave a suggestion of strength to +his rounded face, and a pair of small bright eyes looked suspiciously on +the world from beneath well-arched eyebrows. + +Two personalities more dissimilar than those of Claude Bruce and +Inspector White could hardly be brought together in the same room. +People who are fond of tracing resemblances to animals in human beings +would liken the one to a grey-hound, the other to a bull-dog. + +Yet they were both masters in the art of detecting crime--the barrister +subtle, analytic, introspective; the policeman direct, pertinacious, +self-confident. Bruce lost all interest in a case when the hidden trail +was laid bare. Mr. White regarded investigation as so many hours on duty +until his man was transported or hanged. + +The detective was well acquainted with his unprofessional colleague, and +had already met Sir Charles in the early stages of his present quest. + +"I have an important clue," he said, smiling with assurance. + +"What is it?" The baronet was for the moment aroused from his despondent +lethargy. + +"Her ladyship did not go to Richmond on Tuesday night." + +Inspector White did not wait for Bruce to speak, but the barrister +nodded with the air of one who knew already that Lady Dyke had not gone +to Richmond. + +Mr. White continued. "Thanks to Mr. Bruce's remembrance of the number of +the ticket, we traced it at once in the clearing office. It was given up +at Sloan Square immediately after the Richmond train passed through." + +Bruce nodded again. He was obstinately silent, so the detective +questioned him directly. + +"By this means the inquiry is narrowed to a locality. Eh, Mr. Bruce?" + +"Yes," said the barrister, turning to poke the fire. + +Mr. White was sure that his acuteness was displeasing to his clever +rival. He smiled complacently, and went on: + +"The ticket-collector remembers her quite well, as the giving up of a +Richmond ticket was unusual at this station. She passed straight out +into the square, and from that point we lost sight of her." + +"You do, Mr. White?" said Bruce. + +"Well, sir, it is a great thing to have localized her movements at that +hour, isn't it?" + +"Yes, it is. To save time I may tell you that Lady Dyke returned to the +station, entered the refreshment room, ordered a glass of wine, which +she hardly touched, sat down, and waited some fifteen minutes. Then she +quitted the room, crossed the square, asked a news-vendor where Raleigh +Mansions were, and gave him sixpence for the information." + +His hearers were astounded. + +"Heavens, Claude, how did you learn all this?" cried the baronet. + +"Thus far, it was simplicity itself. On Wednesday evening when no news +could be obtained from your relatives, I started from Victoria, +intending to call at every station until I found the place where she +left the train. The railway clearing officer was too slow, Mr. White. +Naturally, the hours being identical in the same week, the first +ticket-collector I spoke to gave me the desired clue. The rest was a +mere matter of steady inquiry." + +"Then you are the man whom the police are now searching for?" blurted +out the detective. + +"From the railway official's description? Possibly. Pray, Mr. White, let +me see the details of my appearance as circulated through the force. It +would be interesting." + +The inspector was saved from further indiscretions by Sir Charles Dyke's +plaintive question: + +"Why did you not tell me these things sooner, Claude?" + +"What good was there in torturing you? All that I have ascertained is +the A B C of our search. We are at a loss for the motive of your wife's +disappearance. Victoria, Sloane Square, or Richmond--does it matter +which? My belief is that she intended to go to Richmond that night. Why, +otherwise, should she make to the footman and myself the same unvarying +statement? Perhaps she did go there?" + +"But these houses, Raleigh Mansions. What of them?" + +"Ah, there we may be forwarded a stage. But there are six main entrances +and no hall porters. There are twelve flats at each number, seventy-two +in all, and all occupied. That means seventy-two separate inquiries into +the history and attributes of a vastly larger number of persons, in +order to find some possible connection with Lady Dyke and her purposely +concealed visit. She may have remained in one of those flats five +minutes. She may be in one of them yet. Anyhow, I have taken the +necessary steps to obtain the fullest knowledge of the inhabitants of +Raleigh Mansions." + +"Scotland Yard appears to be an unnecessary institution, Mr. Bruce," +snapped the detective. + +"By no means. It is most useful to me once I have discovered a criminal. +And it amuses me." + +"Listen, Claude, and you, Mr. White," pleaded the baronet. "I implore +you to keep me informed in future of developments in your search. The +knowledge that progress is being made will sustain me. Promise, I ask +you." + +"I promise readily enough," answered Bruce. "I only stipulate that you +prepare yourself for many disappointments. Even a highly skilled +detective like Inspector White will admit that the failures are more +frequent than the successes." + +"True enough, sir. But I must be going, gentlemen." Mr. White was +determined to work the new vein of Raleigh Mansions thoroughly before +even his superiors were aware of its significance in the hunt for her +lost ladyship. + +When the detective went out there was silence for some time. Dyke was +the first to speak. + +"Have you formed any sort of theory, even a wildly speculative one?" he +asked. + +"No; none whatever. The utter absence of motive is the most puzzling +element of the whole situation." + +"Whom can my wife have known at Raleigh Mansions? What sort of places +are they?" + +"Quite fashionable, but not too expensive. The absence of elevators and +doorkeepers cheapens them. I am sorry now that I mentioned them to +White." + +"Why?" + +"He will disturb every one of the residents by injudicious inquiries. +Each housemaid who opens a door will be to him a suspicious individual, +each butcher's boy an accomplice, each tenant a principal in the +abduction of your wife. If I have a theory of any sort, it is that the +first reliable news will come from Richmond. There cannot be the +slightest doubt that she was going there on Tuesday night." + +"It will be very odd if you should prove to be right," said Sir Charles. + +Again they were interrupted by the footman, this time the bearer of a +telegram, which he handed to his master. + +The latter opened it and read: + + "What is the matter? Are you ill? I certainly am angry.--DICK." + +He frowned with real annoyance, crumpling up the message and throwing it +in the fire. + +"People bothering one at such a time," he growled. + +Soon afterwards Bruce left him. + +True to the barrister's prophecy, Inspector White made life miserable to +the denizens of Raleigh Mansions. He visited them at all hours, and, in +some instances, several times. Although, in accordance with his +instructions, he never mentioned Lady Dyke's name, he so pestered the +occupants with questions concerning a lady of her general appearance +that half-a-dozen residents wrote complaining letters to the company +which owned the mansions, and the secretary lodged a protest at Scotland +Yard. + +Respectable citizens object to detectives prowling about, particularly +when they insinuate questions concerning indefinite ladies in +tailor-made dresses and fur toques. + +At the end of a week Mr. White was nonplussed, and even Claude Bruce +confessed that his more carefully conducted inquiries had yielded no +result. + +Towards the end of the month a sensational turn was given to events. The +body of a woman, terribly disfigured from long immersion in the water +and other causes, was found in the Thames at Putney. + +It had been discovered under peculiar circumstances. A drain pipe +emptying into the river beneath the surface was moved by reason of some +sanitary alterations, and the workmen intrusted with the task were +horrified at finding a corpse tightly wedged beneath it. + +Official examination revealed that although the body had been in the +water fully three weeks, the cause of death was not drowning. The woman +had been murdered beyond a shadow of a doubt. A sharp iron spike was +driven into her brain with such force that a portion of it had broken +off, and remained imbedded in the skull. + +If this were not sufficient, there were other convincing proofs of foul +play. + +Although her skirt and coat were of poor quality, her linen was of a +class that could only be worn by some one who paid as much for a single +under-garment as most women do for a good costume; but there were no +laundry marks, such as usual, upon it. + +On the feet were a pair of strong walking boots, bearing the stamped +address of a fashionable boot-maker in the West End. Among a list of +customers to whom the tradesman supplied footgear of this size and +character appeared the name of Lady Dyke. + +Not very convincing testimony, but sufficient to bring Sir Charles to +the Putney mortuary in the endeavor to identify the remains as those of +his missing wife. + +In this he utterly failed. + +Not only was this poor misshapen lump of distorted humanity wholly +unlike Lady Alice, but the color of her hair was different. + +Her ladyship's maid called to identify the linen--even the police +admitted the outer clothes were not Lady Dyke's--was so upset at the +repulsive nature of her task that she went into hysterics, protesting +loudly that it could not be her mistress she was looking at. + +Bruce differed from both of them. He quietly urged Sir Charles to +consider the fact that a great many ladies give a helping hand to Nature +in the matter of hair tints. The chemical action of water would-- + +The baronet nearly lost his temper. + +"Really, Bruce, you carry your theories too far," he cried. "My wife had +none of these vanities. I am sure this is not she. The mere thought that +such a thing could be possible makes me ill. Let us get away, quick." + +So a coroner's jury found an open verdict, and the poor unknown was +buried in a pauper's grave. + +The newspapers dismissed the incident with a couple of paragraphs, +though the iron spike planted in the skull afforded good material for a +telling headline, and within a couple of days the affair was forgotten. + +But Claude Bruce, barrister and amateur detective, was quite sure in his +own mind that the nameless woman was Alice, Lady Dyke. + +He was so certain--though identification of the body was +impossible--that he bitterly resented the scant attention given the +matter by the authorities, and he swore solemnly that he would not rest +until he had discovered her destroyer and brought the wretch to the bar +of justice. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE LADY'S MAID + + +The first difficulty experienced by the barrister in his self-imposed +task was the element of mystery purposely contributed by Lady Dyke +herself. To a man of his quick perception, sharpened and clarified by +his legal training, it was easy to arrive at the positive facts +underlying the trivial incidents of his meeting with the missing lady at +Victoria Station. + +Briefly stated, his summary was this: Lady Dyke intended to go to +Richmond at a later hour than that at which his unexpected presence had +caused her to set out. She had resolved upon a secret visit to some one +who lived in Raleigh Mansions, Sloane Square--some person whom she knew +so slightly as to be unacquainted with the exact address, and, as the +result of this visit, she desired subsequently to see her sister at +Richmond. + +Sir Charles Dyke was apparently in no way concerned with her movements, +nor had she thought fit to consult him, beyond the mere politeness of +announcing her probable absence from home at the dinner hour. + +To one of Bruce's analytical powers the problem would be more simple +were it, in a popular sense, more complex. In these days, it is a +strange thing for a woman of assured position in society to be suddenly +spirited out of the world without leaving trace or sign. He approached +his inquiry with less certainty, owing to Lady Dyke's own negative +admissions, than if she had been swallowed up by an earthquake, and he +were asked to determine her fate by inference and deduction. + +It must be remembered that he was sure she was dead--murdered, and that +her body had been lodged by human agents beneath an old drain-pipe at +Putney. + +What possible motive could any one have in so foully killing a +beautiful, high-minded, and charming woman, whose whole life was known +to her associates, whom the breath of scandal had never touched? + +The key of the mystery might be found at Raleigh Mansions, but Bruce +decided that this branch of his quest could wait until other transient +features were cleared up. + +He practically opened the campaign of investigation at Putney. Mild +weather had permitted the workmen to conclude their operations the +day before the barrister reached the spot where the body had been +found--that is to say, some forty-eight hours after he had resolved +neither to pause nor deviate in his search until the truth was laid +bare. + +A large house, untenanted, occupied the bank, a house with solid front +facing the road, and a lawn running from the drawing-room windows to the +river. Down the right side of the grounds the boundary was sharply +marked by a narrow lane, probably a disused ferry road, and access to +this thoroughfare was obtained from the lawn by a garden gate. + +A newly marked seam in the roadway showed the line of the drainage work, +and Bruce did not glance at the point where the pipe entered the Thames, +as the structural features here were recent. + +He went to the office of the contractor who had carried out the +alterations. An elderly foreman readily answered his questions. + +"Yes, sir. I was in charge of the men who were on the job. It was an +easy business. Just an outlet for rain from the road. An old-fashioned +affair; been there thirty or forty years, I should think; all the pipes +were crumbling away." + +"Why were the repairs effected at this moment?" + +"Well, sir, the house was empty quite a while. You see it used to be a +school, a place where young gents were prepared for the army. It was +closed about a year ago, and it isn't everybody as wants so many +bedrooms. I do hear as how the new tenant has sixteen children." + +"The incoming people have not yet arrived?" + +"No, sir." + +"Can you tell me the name of the schoolmaster?" + +"Oh, yes. When I was younger I have done a lot of carpenter's work for +him. He was the Reverend Septimus Childe." + +Bruce made a note of the name, and next sought the local +police-inspector. + +"No, nothing fresh," said the latter, in reply to a query concerning the +woman "found drowned." + +"I suppose these things are soon lost sight of?" said Bruce casually. + +"Sometimes they are, and sometimes they aren't. It's wonderful +occasionally how a matter gets cleared up after years. Of course we keep +all the records of a case, so that the affair can be looked into if +anything turns up." + +"Ah, that brings me to the most important object of my visit. A small +piece of iron was found imbedded in the woman's skull." + +The inspector smiled as he admitted the fact. + +"May I see it? I want either the loan of it for a brief period, or an +exact model." + +Again the policeman grinned. + +"I don't mind telling you that you are too late, sir." + +"Too late! How too late?" + +"It's been gone to Scotland Yard for the best part of a week." + +So others besides the barrister thought that the Putney incident +required more attention than had been bestowed upon it. + + * * * * * + +Bruce concluded his round by a visit to the surgeon who gave evidence at +the inquest. + +The doctor had no manner of doubt that the woman had been murdered +before being placed in the water, the state of the lungs being proof +positive on that point. + +"It was equally indisputable that she was put to death by malice +aforethought?" + +"Oh, yes. A small iron spike was absolutely wedged into the brain +through the hardest part of the skull." + +"What was the nature of the injuries that caused death?" + +"This piece of iron penetrated the occipital bone at the lowest part, +and injured the cerebellum, damaging all the great nerve centres at the +base of the brain." + +"Would death ensue instantly?" + +"Yes. Such a blow would have the effect of a high voltage electric +current. Complete paralysis of the nerve centres means death." + +"Then I take it that great force must have been used?" + +"Not so much, perhaps, as the nature of the wound seems to imply; but +considerable--sufficient, at any rate, to break the piece of iron." + +"It was broken, you say? Was it cast-iron?" + +"Yes, of good quality. Off some ornament or design, I should imagine. +But it snapped off inside the head at the moment of the occurrence." + +"Curious, is it not, for a person to be killed in such a manner by such +an instrument?" + +"I have never before met such a case. Were it not for the way in which +the body was jammed beneath a hidden drain-pipe, and the effective means +taken to destroy the identity, I should have inclined to the belief that +some strange accident had happened. At any rate, the murderer must have +committed the crime on the spur of the moment, and seized upon the first +weapon to hand." + +"You say she was forcibly placed where found?" + +"Yes; the workmen's description left no other idea." + +"Could not the tide have done this?" + +"Hardly. One cannot be quite emphatic, as such odd things do happen. But +it seems to be almost impossible for the tide at Putney to pack a body +beneath a jutting drain-pipe in such a manner that the waist, or +narrowest part, should be beneath the pipe and the body remain securely +held." + +"Yet it is not so marvellous as the coincidence that this particular +drain should need repairs at the precise period when this tragedy +happened." + +"Quite so. It is exceedingly strange. Are you interested in the case? +Have you reason to believe that this poor woman--?" + +"I hardly know," broke in the barrister. "I have no data to go upon, but +I feel convinced that I shall ultimately establish her identity. You, +doctor, can help me much by telling me your surmises in addition to the +known facts." + +The medico looked thoughtfully through the window before he exclaimed: +"I am certain that the woman found in the Thames came from the upper +walks of life. Notwithstanding the disfiguring effects of the water and +rough usage, any medical man can rapidly appreciate the caste of his +subject. She was, I should say, a woman of wealth and refinement, one +who led an orderly, well-regulated life, whose surroundings were normal +and healthy." + +Bruce thanked his informant and hurried back to London. A telegram +to Inspector White preceded him. He had not long reached his +Victoria-street chambers when the detective was announced. He soon made +known his wishes. "I want you to give me that small piece of iron found +in the head of the woman at Putney," he said. "If necessary, I will +return it in twenty-four hours." + +Mr. White's face showed some little sign of annoyance. "It is against +the rules," he began; but Bruce curtly interrupted him. + +"Very well, I will make direct application to the Commissioner." + +"I was going to say, Mr. Bruce, that although not strictly in accordance +with orders, I will make an exception in your case." And the detective +slowly produced the _piece de conviction_ from a large pocket-book. + +In sober fact, the police officer was somewhat jealous of the clever +lawyer, who saw so quickly through complexities that puzzled his slower +brain. He was in nowise anxious to help the barrister in his inquiries, +though keenly wishful to benefit by his discoveries, and follow out his +theories when they were defined with sufficient clearness. + +Bruce did not at first take the proffered article. + +"Let me understand, Mr. White," he said. "Do you object to my presence +in this inquiry? Are you going to hinder me or help me? It will save +much future misunderstanding if we have this point settled now." + +The detective flushed at this direct inquiry. "I will be candid with +you, Mr. Bruce. It is true I have been vexed at times when you have +overreached me; but I regret it immediately. It is foolish of me to try +and solve problems by your methods. Kindly forget my momentary +disinclination to hand over the only genuine link in the case." + +"In what case?" + +"In the case of Lady Dyke's disappearance." + +"Ah! Then you think it is in some way connected with the woman found at +Putney?" + +"I am sure of it. The woman at Putney, whether Lady Dyke herself or not +I cannot tell, wore some of her ladyship's clothes. When we have +ascertained the means and the manner of the death of the woman buried at +Putney we shall not be far from learning what has become of Lady Dyke." + +"How have you identified the clothes?" + +"I managed to gain the confidence of the lady's maid, who gave evidence +at the inquest. She, of course, is quite positive that the body was not +that of her mistress, but when I had examined some of Lady Dyke's linen +I no longer doubted the fact." + +"If you knew all this, how comes it that more did not transpire at the +coroner's inquiry?" + +"In such affairs an inquest is rather a hindrance to the police. It is +better to lull the guilty person or persons into the belief that the +crime has passed into oblivion. They know as well as we do that Lady +Dyke is buried at Putney. We have failed to establish her identity by +the evidence of the husband and servants. The linen and clothes, our +sole effective testimony, remain in our possession; so, taking +everything into consideration, I prefer that matters should remain as +they are for the present." + +"Really, Mr. White, I congratulate you. You will perhaps pardon me for +saying that some of your colleagues do not usually take so sensible a +view." + +The policeman smiled at the compliment. "I am learning your method, Mr. +Bruce," he said. + +As he spoke, Smith entered with a note endorsed "Urgent." + +It was in the handwriting of Sir Charles Dyke, and even the +imperturbable barrister could not resist an exclamation of amazement +when he read: + + "MY DEAR BRUCE,--My wife's maid has vanished. She has not been + near the house for three days. The thing came to my ears owing + to gossip amongst the servants. There is something maddening + about these occurrences. I really cannot stand any more. Do + come to see me, there's a good fellow." + +"Well, I'm jiggered!" said the detective. "The blessed girl must have +been spirited away a few hours after I saw her. Maybe, Mr. Bruce, we are +all wrong. Has she gone to join her mistress?" + +"Possibly--in the next world." + +Nothing would shake the barrister's belief that Alice, Lady Dyke, was +dead. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +NO. 61 RALEIGH MANSIONS + + +Really, the maid deserved to have her ears pulled. + +People in her walk in life should not ape their betters. Lady Dyke, +owing to her position, was entitled to some degree of oddity or mystery +in her behavior. But for a lady's maid to so upset the entire household +at Wensley House, Portman Square, was intolerable. + +Sir Charles became, if possible, more miserable; the butler fumed; the +housekeeper said that the girl was always a forward minx, and the +footman winked at Buttons, as much as to say that he knew a good deal if +he liked to talk. + +The police were as greatly baffled by this latter incident as by its +predecessor. The movements of the maid were quite unknown. No one could +tell definitely when she left the house. Her fellow-servants described +the dress she probably wore, as all her other belongings were in her +bedroom; but beyond the fact that her name was Jane Harding, and that +she had not returned to her home in Lincolnshire, the police could find +no further clue. + +So, in brief, Jane Harding quickly joined Lady Dyke in the limbo of +forgetfulness. + +Bruce, however, forgot nothing. Indeed, he rejoiced at this new +development. + +"The greater the apparent mystery," he communed, "the less it is in +reality. We now have two tracks to follow. They are both hidden, it is +true, but when we find one, it will probably intersect the other." + +The new year was a few days old when Bruce made his first step through +the bewildering maze which seemed to bar progress on every side. He +received a report from the man, a pensioned police-officer, who had +conducted a painstaking search into the history and occupation of every +inhabitant of Raleigh Mansions. + +Two items the barrister fastened on to at once. + + "At No. 12, top floor right, entrance by first door on Sloane + Square side, is a small flat occupied by a man named Sydney H. + Corbett. He passes as an American, but is probably an Englishman + who has resided in the United States. He does not mix with other + Americans in London, and is of irregular habits. He frequents + race meetings and sporting clubs, is reported to belong to a + Piccadilly club where high play is the rule, and has no definite + occupation. He occasionally visits a lady who lives at No. 61, + same mansions, ground floor, and sixth door. They have been + heard to quarrel seriously, and the dispute appears always to + have concerned money. Corbett went to Monte Carlo early in + December. His address there is 'Hotel du Cercle,' and the local + post-office has a supply of stamped and addressed envelopes in + which to forward his correspondence. + + "At No. 61, as already described, resides Mrs. Gwendoline + Hillmer. She lives in good style, rents a brougham and a + victoria, and is either a wealthy widow or maintained by some + one of means. She dresses well, and goes out a good deal to + theatres, but otherwise leads a rather lonely life. Her most + frequent visitor is, or was, a gentleman who looked like an + officer in the Guards, and, much less often, the aforesaid + Sydney H. Corbett. Her servants, except the maid, live out. The + maid, who is a sort of companion, is talkative, but does not + know much, or, if she does, will not speak." + +Bruce weighed these statements very carefully. They did not contain any +positive facts that promised well for the elucidation of Lady Dyke's +visit to the mansions on that fateful November evening, but the absolute +colorlessness of the reports concerning the other occupants rendered +them quite impossible of individual distinction. + +After an hour of puzzled thought the barrister finally decided upon a +course of action. He would see Mrs. Gwendoline Hillmer, and trust to +luck in the way of discoveries. + +A quiet smile lit up his handsome, regular features as he proceeded to +array himself in the most fashionable clothes he possessed, paying the +utmost attention to every detail in a manner that amazed his valet. + +When at last that worthy was despatched to the nearest florist's for a +_boutonniere_, he communicated his bewilderment to the hall-porter. + +"My guv'nor's going out on the mash," he said confidentially. "I thought +he would never look at a woman; but, bless you, Jim, we're all alike. +When the day comes we all rush after a petticoat." + +It was nearly six o'clock when Bruce walked down Victoria Street. For +some reason, he did not call a hansom, and it was almost with a start +that he found himself purchasing a ticket to Sloane Square at the +Underground Railway office. At this precise hour and place he had last +seen Lady Alice on earth. The memory nerved him to his purpose. + +A few minutes later he pressed the electric bell of No. 61 Raleigh +Mansions. As he listened to the slight jar of the indicator within, he +smiled at the apparent fatuity of his mission. + +He had one card, perhaps a weak one, to play, it was true, but he hoped +that circumstances might prevent this from being tabled too early in the +game. + +The door opened, and a youthful housemaid stood before him, the simple +wonder in her eyes showing that such visitors were rare. + +"Is Mrs. Hillmer at home?" he said. + +"I'll see sir, if you give me your name." + +"Surely you know whether or not she is at home?" + +The girl stammered and blushed at this unexpected query. "Well, sir," +she said, "my mistress is in, but I do not know if she can receive any +one. She is dressed to go out." + +"Ah! that's better. Now, take her my card, and say that while I will not +detain her, my business is very important." This with a sweet smile that +put the flurried maid entirely at her ease. + +The girl withdrew, after hesitating for a moment to decide the important +question as to whether or not she should close the door in his face. + +Another smile, and she did not. + +He was thus free to note the luxurious and tasteful air of the general +appointments, for the entrance hall usually reveals much of the +characteristics of the inmates. Here was every evidence of refinement +and wealth. All the display had not been lavished on the drawing-room. + +As he waited, conscious of the fact that his colloquy with the servant +had been overheard, a lady crossed from one room to the other at the end +of the passage. Her smart but simple dress, and the quick scrutiny she +gave him, as though discovering his presence accidentally, caused him +to believe--rightly, as it transpired--that this was the maid-companion +described by his assistant. + +Not only had she obviously made her appearance in order to look at him, +but the housemaid had carried his message to a different section of the +flat. + +The girl returned. "My mistress will see you in a few minutes," she +said. "Will you kindly step into the dining-room?" + +He followed her, sat down in a position where the strong glare of the +electric lamps would fall on any one who stood opposite, and waited +developments. + +The furniture was solid and appropriate, the carpet rich, and the +pictures, engravings for the most part, excellent. This pleasant room, +warmed by a cheerful fire, impressed Bruce as a place much used by the +household. Books and work-baskets were scattered about, and a piano, +littered with music, filled a corner. There were a few photographs of +persons and places, but he had not time to examine these before the lady +of the house entered. + +Her appearance, for some reason inexplicable to the barrister himself, +took him by surprise. She was tall, graceful, extremely good-looking, +and dressed in a style of quiet elegance. Just the sort of woman one +would expect to find in such a well-appointed abode, yet more refined in +manner than Bruce, from his knowledge of the world, thought he would +meet, judging by the hasty inferences drawn from his subordinate's +report. She was self-possessed, too. With calm tone, and slightly +elevated eyebrows, she said: + +"You wish to see me, I understand?" + +"Yes. Allow me first to apologize for the hour at which I have called." + +"No apology is necessary. But I am going out. Perhaps you will be good +enough not to detain me longer than is absolutely necessary." + +She stood between the table and the door. Bruce, who had risen at her +entrance, was at the other side of the room. Her words, no less than her +attitude, showed that she desired the interview to be brief. But the +barrister resolved that he would not be repelled so coolly. + +Advancing, with a bow and that fascinating smile of his, he said, +pulling forward a chair: + +"Won't you be seated?" + +The lady looked at him. She saw a man of fine physique and undoubted +good breeding. She hesitated. There was no reason to be rude to him, so +she sat down. + +Claude drew a chair to the other side of the hearthrug, and commenced: + +"I have ventured to seek this interview for the purpose of making some +inquiries." + +"I thought so. Are you a policeman?" The words were blurted out +impetuously, a trifle complainingly, but Bruce gave no sign of the +interest they had for him. + +"Good gracious, no," he cried. "Why should you think that?" + +"Because two detectives have been bothering me, and every other person +in these mansions, about some mysterious lady who called here two months +ago. They don't know where she called, nor will they state her name; as +if any one could possibly know anything about it. So I naturally thought +you were on the same errand." + +"Confound that rascal White," growled he to himself. + +But Mrs. Hillmer went on: "If that is not your business, would you mind +telling me what it is?" + +Now Bruce's alert brain had been actively engaged during the last few +seconds. This woman was not the clever, specious adventuress he had half +expected to meet. It seemed more than ever unlikely that she could have +any knowledge of Lady Dyke or the causes that led to her disappearance. +He was tempted to frame some excuse and take his departure. But the +certainty that his missing friend had visited Raleigh Mansions, and the +necessity there was for exploiting every line of inquiry, impelled him +to adopt this last resource. + +"It is not concerning a missing lady, but concerning a missing gentleman +that I have come to see you." + +The shot went home. + +Why, for the life of him, he could not tell, but his companion was +manifestly disturbed at his words. + +"Oh," she said. + +Then, after a little pause: "May I ask his name?" + +"Certainly. He is known as Mr. Sydney H. Corbett." + +She gave a slight gasp. + +"Why do you put it in that way? Is not that his right name?" + +"I have reason to believe it is not." + +Mrs. Hillmer was so obviously distressed that Bruce inwardly reviled +himself for causing her so much unnecessary suffering. In all +probability, the source of her emotion had not the remotest bearing +upon his quest. + +Then came the pertinent query, after a glance at his card, which she +still held in her hand: + +"Who are you, Mr.--Mr. Claude Bruce?" + +"I am a member of the Bar, of the Inner Temple. My chambers are No. 7 +Paper Buildings, and my private residence is given there." + +"And why are you interested in Mr. Sydney Corbett?" + +"Ah, in that respect I am at this moment unable to enlighten you." + +"Unable, or unwilling?" + +He indulged in a quiet piece of fencing: + +"Really, Mrs. Hillmer," he said, "I am not here as in any sense hostile +to you. I merely want some detailed information with regard to this +gentleman, information which you may be able to give me. That is all." + +All this time he knew that the woman was scrutinizing him +narrowly--trying to weigh him up as it were, not because she feared him, +but rather to discover the true motive of his presence. + +Personally, he had never faced a more difficult task than this +make-believe investigation. He could have laughed at the apparent want +of connection between Lady Dyke's ill-fated visit to Raleigh Mansions +and this worrying of a beautiful, pleasant-mannered woman, who was +surely neither a principal nor an accomplice in a ghastly crime. + +"Well, I suppose I may consider myself in the hands of counsel. Tell me +what it is you want to know!" Mrs. Hillmer pouted, with the air of a +child about to undergo a scolding. + +"Are you acquainted with Mr. Corbett's present address?" he said. + +"No. I have neither seen him nor heard from him since early in +November." + +"Can you be more precise about the period?" + +"Yes, perhaps." She arose, took from a drawer in the sideboard a packet +of bills--receipted, he observed--searched through them and found the +document she sought. "I purchased a few articles about that time," she +explained, "and the account for them is dated November 15. I had not +seen my--" She blushed, became confused, laughed a little, and went on. +"I had not seen Mr. Corbett for at least a week before that date--say +November 8th or 9th." + +Lady Dyke disappeared on the evening of the 6th! + +Bruce swallowed his astonishment at the odd coincidence of dates, for he +said, with an encouraging laugh, "Out with it, Mrs. Hillmer. You were +about to describe Mr. Corbett correctly when you recollected yourself." + +Mrs. Hillmer, still coloring and becoming saucily cheerful, cried, "Why +should I trouble myself when you, of course, know all that I can tell +you, and probably more? He is my brother, and a pretty tiresome sort of +relation, too." + +"I am obliged for your confidence. In return, I am free to state that +your brother is now in the South of France." + +"As you are here, Mr. Bruce," she said, "I may as well get some advice +gratis. Can people writ him in the South of France? Can they ask me to +pay his debts?" + +"Under ordinary circumstances they can do neither. Certainly not the +latter." + +"I hope not. But they sometimes come very near to it, as I know to my +cost." + +"Indeed! How?" + +Mrs. Hillmer hesitated. Her smile was a trifle scornful, and her color +rose again as she answered: "People are not averse to taking advantage +of circumstances. I have had some experience of this trait in +debt-collectors already. But they must be careful. You, as a legal man, +must know that demands urged on account of personal reasons may come +very near to levying blackmail." + +"Surely, Mrs. Hillmer, you do not suspect me of being a dun. Perish the +thought! You could never be in debt to me." + +"Very nice of you. Don't you represent those people on Leadenhall +Street, then?" + +"What people?" + +"Messrs. Dodge & Co." + +"No; why do you ask?" + +"Because my brother entered into what he called a 'deal' with them. He +underwrote some shares in a South African mine, as a nominal affair, he +told me, and now they want him to pay for them because the company is +not supported by the public." + +"No, I do not represent Dodge & Co." + +"Is there something else then? Whom do you represent?" + +"To be as precise as permissible, I may say that my inquiries in no +sense affect financial matters." + +"What then?" + +"Well, there is a woman in the case." + +Mrs. Hillmer was evidently both relieved and interested. + +"No, you don't say," she said. "Tell me all about it. I never knew +Bertie to be much taken up with the fair sex. I am all curiosity. Who is +she?" + +He did not take advantage of the mention of a name which in no way stood +for Sydney. Besides, perhaps the initial stood for Herbert. He resolved +to try another tack. + +Glancing at his watch he said: "It is nearly seven o'clock. I have +already detained you an unconscionable time. You were going out. Permit +me to call again, and we can discuss matters at leisure." + +He rose, and the lady sighed: "You were just beginning to be +entertaining. I was only going to dine at a restaurant. I am quite tired +of being alone." + +Was it a hint? He would see. "Are you dining by yourself, then, Mrs. +Hillmer?" + +"I hardly know. I may bring my maid." + +Claude now made up his mind. "May I venture," he said, "after such an +informal introduction, to ask you to dine with me at the Prince's +Restaurant, and afterwards, perhaps, to look in at the Jollity Theatre?" + +The lady was unfeignedly pleased. She arranged to call for him in her +brougham within twenty minutes, and Bruce hurried off to Victoria Street +in a hansom to dress for this unexpected branch of the detective +business. + +When he told his valet to telephone to the restaurant and the theatre +respectively for a reserved table and a couple of stalls, that worthy +chuckled. + +When his master entered a brougham in which was seated a fur-wrapped +lady, the valet grinned broadly. "I knew it," he said. "The guv'nor's on +the mash. Now, who would ever have thought it of him?" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AT THE JOLLITY THEATRE + + +By tacit consent, Claude and his fair companion dropped for the hour the +roles of inquisitor and witness. + +They were both excellent talkers, they were mutually interested, and +there was in their present escapade a spice of that romance not so +lacking in the humdrum life of London as is generally supposed to be the +case. + +Bruce did not ask himself what tangible result he expected from this +quaint outcome of his visit to Sloane Square. It was too soon yet. He +must trust to the vagaries of chance to elucidate many things now +hidden. Meanwhile a good dinner, a bright theatre, and the society of a +smart, nice-looking woman, were more than tolerable substitutes for +progress. + +As a partial explanation of his somewhat eccentric behavior, he +volunteered a lively account of a recent _cause celebre_, in which he +had taken a part, but the details of which had been rigidly kept from +the public. He more than hinted that Mr. Sydney Corbett had figured +prominently in the affair; and Mrs. Hillmer laughed with unrestrained +mirth at the unwonted appearance of her brother in the character of a +Lothario. + +"Tell me," said Bruce confidentially, when a couple of glasses of Moet +'89 had consolidated friendly relations, "what sort of a fellow is this +brother of yours?" + +"Not in any sense a bad boy, but a trifle wild. He will not live an +ordinary life, and at times he has been hard pressed to live at all. As +a matter of fact, it is this scrape he blundered into with Messrs. Dodge +& Co. that induced him to masquerade temporarily under an assumed name." + +"Then what is his real name?" + +"Ah, now you are pumping me again. I refuse to tell." + +"But there are generally serious reasons when a man disguises himself in +such fashion." + +"The reason he gave me was that he dreaded being writted for liability +regarding the shares I mentioned to you. It was good enough. Now you +come with this story of meddling with somebody else's wife. Surely this +is an additional reason. I supplied him with funds until we quarrelled, +and then he went off in a huff." + +"What did you quarrel about?" + +"That concerns me only." Mrs. Hillmer was so emphatic that Bruce dropped +the subject. + +When they drove to the theatre Mrs. Hillmer, on alighting at the +entrance, said to her coachman, "You may return home now, and bring +Dobson to meet me at 11.15." + +"May I venture to inquire who Dobson is?" said Claude. + +"Certainly. Dobson is my maid." + +This woman puzzled him the more he saw of her. He was now quite positive +that she lived on the fringe of Society. Her status was, at the best, +dubious. Yet he had never heard of her before, nor met her in public. +None of his friends were known to her, and she mentioned no one +beyond those popular personages who are _connu_ of all the world. +She was obviously wealthy and refined, with more than a spice of +unconventionality. At times, too, beneath her habitual expressions +of lively and vivacious interest, there was a touch of melancholy. + +For an instant her face grew sad when her eyes rested on a typical +family party of father, mother, and two girls who occupied seats in the +row of stalls directly in front of her. + +For some reason Bruce felt sorry for Mrs. Hillmer. He regretted that the +exigencies of his quest forced him to make her his dupe, and he resolved +that, if by any chance her scapegrace brother were concerned in Lady +Dyke's death, Mrs. Hillmer should, if possible, be spared personal +humiliation or disgrace. + +Indeed, he had formed such a favorable opinion of her that he had made +up his mind to conduct his future investigations without causing her to +assist involuntarily in putting a halter around her relative's neck. + +Nevertheless, it was impossible to avoid getting some further +information, as the lady herself paved the way for it. Her comments +betrayed such an accurate acquaintance with the technique of the stage +that he said to her, "You must have acted a good deal?" + +"No," she said, "not very much. But I was stage struck when young." + +"But you have not appeared in public?" + +"Yes, some six years ago. I worked so hard that I fell ill, and +then--then I got married." + +"Do you go out much to theatres, nowadays?" + +"Very little. It is lonely by oneself, and there are so few plays worth +seeing." + +Bruce wondered why she insisted so strongly upon the isolation of her +existence. In his new-found sympathy he forebore to question, and she +continued: + +"When I do visit a theatre I amuse myself mostly by silent criticism of +the actors and actresses. Not that I could do better than many of them, +or half so well, but it passes the time." + +"I hope you do not regard killing time as your main occupation?" + +"It is so, I fear, however hard I may strive otherwise." And again that +shadow of regret darkened the fair face. + +Some one in front turned round and glared at them angrily, for the +famous comedian, Mr. Prospect Ricks, was singing his deservedly famous +song, "It was all because I buttoned up her boots," so the conversation +dropped for the moment. + +Claude focussed his opera-glasses on the stage. While his eyes wandered +idly over the pretty faces and shapely limbs of the coryphees his brain +was busy piecing together all that he had heard. The odd coincidence of +the dates of Lady Dyke's murder and the speedy departure of the +self-styled Sydney Corbett for the Riviera would require a good deal of +explanation by the latter gentleman. + +True, it was not the barrister's habit to jump at conclusions. There +might be a perfectly valid motive for the journey. If the man did not +desire his whereabouts to be known, why did he leave his address at the +post-office? + +And, then, what possible reason could Lady Dyke have in visiting him +voluntarily and secretly at his chambers in Raleigh Mansions? This +virtuous and high-principled lady could have nothing in common with a +careless adventurer, taking the most lenient view of his sister's +description of him. And as Bruce's subtle brain strove vainly to match +the queer fragments of the puzzle, his keen eyes roved over the stage in +aimless activity. + +Suddenly they paused. His power of vision and mental analysis were +alike inadequate to the new and startling fact which had obtruded +itself, unasked and unsought for, upon his sight. + +Among the least prominent of the chorus girls, posturing and moving with +the stiffness and visible anxiety of the novice, who is not yet +accustomed to the glare of the footlights upon undraped limbs, was one +in whose every gesture Bruce took an absorbing interest. + +He was endowed in full measure with that prime requisite in the +detection of criminals, an unusually good memory for faces, together +with the artistic faculty of catching the true expression. + +Hence it was that, after the whirl of a dancing chorus had for a few +seconds brought this particular member of the company close to the +proscenium, Bruce became quite sure of having developed at least one +branch of his inquiry within measurable distance of its conclusion. + +The girl on the stage was Jane Harding, Lady Dyke's maid. + +When her features first flashed upon his conscious gaze he could hardly +credit the discovery. But each instant of prolonged scrutiny placed the +fact beyond doubt. Not even the make-up and the elaborate wig could +conceal the contour of her pretty if insipid face, and a slight trick +she had of drooping the left eyelid when thinking confirmed him in his +belief. + +So astounded was he at this sequel to his visit to the theatre, that he +utilized every opportunity of a full stage to examine still further the +appearance and style of this strange apparition. + +When the curtain fell and Jane Harding had vanished, he was brought back +to actuality by Mrs. Hillmer's voice. + +"Fie, Mr. Bruce. You are taking altogether too much notice of one of +the fair ladies in front. Which one is it? The tall standard bearer or +the little girl who pirouettes so gracefully?" + +"Neither, I assure you. I was taken up by wondering how a young woman +manages to secure employment in a theatre for the first time." + +"I think I can tell you. Influence goes a long way. Talent occasionally +counts. Then, a well-known agent may, for a nominal fee, get an opening +for a handsome, well-built girl who has taken lessons from either +himself or some of his friends in dancing or singing, or both." + +"Is such a thing possible for a domestic servant?" + +"It all depends upon the domestic servant's circle of acquaintances. As +a rule, I should say not. A theatre like this requires a higher average +of intelligence." + +This, and more, Bruce well knew, but he was only making conversation, +while he thought intently, almost fiercely, upon the latest phase of his +strange quest. + +During the third act he devoted more time to Mrs. Hillmer. If that +sprightly dame were a little astonished at the celerity with which he +conducted her to her carriage and the waiting Dobson, it was banished by +the nice way in which he thanked her for the pleasure she had conferred. + +"The enjoyment has been mostly on my side," she cried, as he stood near +the window of her brougham. "Come to see me again soon." + +He bowed, and would have said something if an imperious policeman had +not ordered the coachman to make way for the next vehicle. So Mrs. +Hillmer was whisked into the traffic. + +From force of habit, he glanced casually at the crowd struggling through +the exit of the theatre, and he caught sight of Mr. White, who, too +late, averted his round eyes and strove to shield his portly form in +the portico of a neighboring restaurant. + +He did not want to be bothered by the detective just then. He lit a +cigarette, and Mr. White slid off quietly into the stream of traffic, +finally crossing the road and jumping on to a Charing Cross 'bus. + +"So," said Claude to himself, "White has been watching Raleigh Mansions, +and watching me too. 'Pon my honor, I shouldn't wonder if he suspected +me of the murder! I'm glad I saw him just now. For the next couple of +hours I wish to be free from his interference." + +Waiting a few moments to make sure that White had not detailed an +aide-de-camp to continue the surveillance, he buttoned his overcoat to +the chin, tilted his hat forward, and strolled round to the stage door +of the Jollity Theatre. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +MISS MARIE LE MARCHANT + + +The uncertain rays of a weak lamp, struggling through panes dulled by +dirt and black letters, cast a fitful light about the precincts of the +stage-door. + +Elderly women and broken-down men, slovenly and unkempt, kept furtive +guard over the exit, waiting for the particular "super" to come forth +who would propose the expected adjournment to a favorite public-house. +Some smart broughams, a four-wheeler, and a few hansoms, formed a close +line along the pavement, which was soon crowded with the hundred odd +hangers-on of a theatre--scene-shifters, gasmen, limelight men, members +of the orchestra, dressers, and attendants--mingling with the small +stream of artistes constantly pouring out into the cold night after a +casual inquiry for letters at the office of the doorkeeper. + +This being a fashionable place of amusement there were not wanting +several representatives of the gilded youth, some obviously ginger-bread +or "unleavened" imitations, others callow specimens of the genuine +article. + +Bruce paid little heed to them as they impudently peered beneath each +broad-leafed and high-feathered hat to discover the charmer honored by +their chivalrous attentions. + +Yet the presence of this brigade of light-headed cavaliers helped the +barrister far more than he could have foreseen or even hoped. + +At last the ex-lady's maid appeared, dressed in a showy winter costume +and jaunty toque. She was on very friendly terms with two older girls, +on whom the stage had set its ineffaceable seal, and the reason was soon +apparent. + +"Come along," she cried, her words being evidently intended to have an +effect on others in the throng less favored than those whom she +addressed; "let us get into a hansom and go to Scott's for supper. Here, +cabby!" + +She was on the step of a hansom when a tall, good-looking boy, +faultlessly dressed, and with something of Sandhurst or Woolwich in his +carriage, darted forward. + +"Hello, Millie," he said to one of Jane Harding's companions. "How are +you? A couple of fellows have come up with me for the night. Let's all +go and have something to eat at the Duke's," thereby indicating a +well-known club usually patronized by higher class artistes than this +trio. + +After a series of introductions by Christian names, among which Bruce +failed to catch the word "Jane," the party went off in three hansoms, a +pair in each. + +Claude was not a member of the "Duke's," though he had often been there. +But there was a man close at hand who was a member of everything in +London that in any way pertained to things theatrical. Every one knew +Billy Sadler and Billy Sadler knew every one. A brief run in a cab +to a theatre, a restaurant, and another restaurant, revealed the +large-hearted Billy, drinking a whisky and soda and relating to a +friend, with great gusto and much gesticulation, the very latest quarrel +between the stage-manager and the leading lady. He hailed Claude with +enthusiasm. + +"'Pon my soul, Bruce, old chap, haven't seen you for an age. Where have +you bin? An' what's the little game now?" + +Mr. Sadler was fully aware of the barrister's penchant for investigating +mysteries. The two had often foregathered in the past. + +"Are you 'busy'"? said Bruce. + +"Not a bit. By-bye, Jack. See you at luncheon to-morrow at the +Gorgonzola. Well, what is it?" + +"I want you to come with me to the 'Duke's.' There's a young lady there +I'm interested in." + +Billy squeezed round in the hansom, which was now bowling across a +corner of Trafalgar Square. + +"You," he cried. "After a girl! Is she in the profession? Is mamma +frightened about her angel? The correct figure for a breach just now, my +boy, is five thou'." + +"Oh, it's nothing serious. I will tell you all about it when matters +have cleared a bit. It is a mere item in a really big story. But, here +we are. Take me straight to the supper-room." + +As they entered the comfortable, brightly lit club the strains of a band +came pleasantly to their ears, and in a minute they were installed at a +corner table in the splendid room devoted to the most cheery of all +gatherings--a Bohemian meal when the labors of the night are past. + +Bruce soon marked his quarry. Jane Harding was in great form--eating, +drinking, and talking at the same time. + +"Who is that, Billy?" he said, indicating the girl. + +Sadler carefully balanced his _pince-nez_ on his well-defined nose, +gazed, and laughed: "Goodness knows. She's a new-comer, and not much at +the best. Do you know where she carries a banner?" + +"At the Jollity." + +"Oh! then here's our man"--for a Mephistophelian gentleman was passing +at the moment. "Say, Rosenheim, who's the new coryphee over there?" + +Mephistopheles halted, looked at Jane and laughed, too. "Her name is +Miss Marie le Marchant; but as she happened to be born in London she +pronounces it Mahrie Lee Mahshuns, with the accent on the 'Mahs.' +Anything else you would like to know?" + +"Yes, I'm stuck on her! Where did you pick her up?" + +"She's a housemaid, or something of the sort. Came into money. Wants to +knock 'em on the stige. The rest is easy." + +"Has she been with you long?" put in Claude, as their informant was the +under-manager of the Jollity. + +Mr. Rosenheim glanced at him. Sadler, he knew, had no interest in the +girl, and the barrister did not quite possess the juvenile appearance +that warranted such solicitude. + +"She joined us just before Christmas. What's up? Is she really worth a +lot of 'oof?" + +"I should imagine not," laughed Bruce; and Mr. Rosenheim joined another +group. + +Supper ended, Marie and Millie, and eke Flossie, attended by their +swains, discussed coffee and cognac in the _foyer_. + +Chance separated Miss le Marchant, as she may now be known, momentarily +from the others, and Bruce darted forward. + +"Good-evening," he said. "I am delighted to meet you here." + +The girl recognized him instantly. She would have denied her identity, +but her nerve failed her before those steadfast, penetrating eyes. +Moreover, it was not an ill thing for such a well-bred, well-dressed man +to acknowledge her so openly. + +"Good-evening, Mr. Bruce," she said, with a smile of assurance, though +her voice faltered a little. + +He resolved to make the situation easy. + +"We have not met for such a long time," he said; "and I am simply dying +to have a talk with you. I am sure your friends will pardon me if I +carry you off for five minutes to a quiet corner." + +With a simper, Miss le Marchant took his proffered arm, and they went +off to an unoccupied table. + +"Now, Jane Harding," said he, with some degree of sternness in his +manner, "be good enough to explain to me why you are passing under a +false name, and the reasons which led you to leave Sir Charles Dyke's +house in such a particularly disagreeable way." + +"Disagreeable? I only left in a hurry. Who had any right to stop me?" + +"No one, in a sense, except that Sir Charles Dyke may feel inclined to +prosecute you." + +"For what, Mr. Bruce?" + +This emancipated servant girl was not such a simpleton as she looked. It +was necessary to frighten her and at the same time to force her to admit +the facts with reference to her sensational flight from Wensley House. + +"You must know," he said, "that Sir Charles Dyke can proceed against you +in the County Court to recover wages in lieu of notice, and this would +be far from pleasant for you in your new surroundings." + +"Yes, I know that. But why should Sir Charles Dyke, or you, or any other +gentleman, want to destroy a poor girl's prospects in that fashion?" + +"Surely, you must feel that some explanation is due to us for your +extraordinary behavior?" + +"No, I don't feel a bit like it." + +"But why did you go away?" + +"To suit myself." + +"Could you not have given notice? Why was it necessary to create a +further scandal in addition to the disappearance of your unfortunate +mistress?" + +"I am sorry for that. It was thoughtless, I admit. If I had to act over +again I should have done differently. But what does it matter now?" + +"It matters this much--that the police must be informed of your +existence, as they are searching for you, believing that you are in some +way mixed up with Lady Dyke's death." + +The girl started violently, and she flushed, rather with anger than +alarm, Bruce thought, as he watched her narrowly. + +"The police, indeed," she snorted; "what have the police to do with me? +A nice thing you're saying, Mr. Bruce." + +"I am merely telling you the naked truth." + +"All right. Tell them. I don't care a pin for them or you. Have you +anything else to say, because I wish to join my friends?" + +The girl's language and attitude mystified him more than any preceding +feature of this remarkable investigation. She was, of course, far better +educated than he had imagined, and the difference between the hysterical +witness at the coroner's inquiry and this pert, self-possessed young +woman was phenomenal. + +Rather than risk an open rupture, the barrister temporized. "If you are +anxious to quarrel with me, by all means do so," he said; "but that was +not my motive in speaking to you here to-night." + +Miss le Marchant shot a suspicious glance at him. "Then what was your +motive," she said. + +"Chiefly to reassure my friend, your former master, concerning you; and, +perhaps, to learn the cause of your very strange conduct." + +"Why should Sir Charles bother his head about me?" + +"As I have told you. Because of the coincidence between your departure +and Lady--" + +"Oh yes, I know that." Then she added testily: "I was a fool not to +manage differently." + +"So you refuse me an explanation?" + +"No, I don't. I have no reason to do so. I came in for some money, and +as I have longed all my life to be an actress I could not wait an hour, +a moment, before I--before I--" + +"Before you tried to gratify your impulse." + +"Yes, that is what I wanted to say." + +"But why not at least have written to Sir Charles, telling him of your +intentions?" + +The fair Marie was silent for a moment. The question confused her. "I +hardly know," she replied. + +"Will you write to him now?" + +"I don't see why I should." + +"Indeed. Not even when it was you who gave some of your mistress's +underclothing to Mr. White, by which means he was able to identify the +body found at Putney as that of Lady Dyke?" + +"Mr. White told you that, did he?" + +"He did." + +"Then you had better get him to give you all further information, Mr. +Bruce, as not another word will you get out of me." + +She bounced up, fiery red, pluming herself for the fray. + +"Will you not communicate with Sir Charles?" he said, utterly baffled by +Miss le Marchant's uncompromising attitude. + +"Perhaps I will and perhaps I won't. Mr. White, indeed!" And she ran off +to join her friends. + +The barrister drove quietly homewards. This was his summary of the +evening's events: "I have found two women. When I know all about them I +shall be able to lay my hand on the person who killed Lady Dyke." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +IN THE CITY + + +Messrs. Dodge & Co., of Leadenhall Street, possessed business premises +of greater pretensions than Bruce had pictured to himself from Mrs. +Hillmer's description of their transactions with her brother. + +Not only were their offices commodious and well situated, but a liberal +display of gold lettering, intermingled with official brass plates +marking the registering offices of many companies, gave evidence of some +degree of importance--whether fictitious or otherwise Bruce could not +determine, as he scrutinized the exterior of the building on the +following morning. + +Moreover, workmen were even then busy in substituting the title "Dodge, +Son & Co., Ltd.," for "Messrs. Dodge & Company," the suggestive nature +of the latter designation having perhaps proved a stumbling-block in the +way of the guileless investor. + +When the barrister entered the office, a busy place, a hive of many +clerks, and adorned with gigantic maps of the Rand, West Australia, +Cripple Creek, and Klondike, he asked for "Mr. Dodge." + +His card procured him ready admission. He was shown into an elaborately +upholstered apartment of considerable size. At the farther end, seated +in front of a gorgeous American desk, was a young man who ostentatiously +finished a letter and then motioned the barrister to a seat. + +Bruce was curious on the question of the age of the head of the firm. + +"Are you Mr. Dodge, or the son?" he said, with the utmost gravity. + +The other was taken back by this unexpected method of opening the +conversation. It annoyed him. + +"I am the representative of the firm, sir, and fully able to deal with +your business, whatever it may be," he replied. + +"No doubt. But it will simplify matters if I know exactly to whom I am +addressing myself." + +After an uneasy shuffling in his seat--he could not guess what this +keen-faced, earnest-eyed lawyer might want--the representative of +Messrs. Dodge, Son & Co. (Limited) explained that he was Dodge, and the +name of the firm had been adopted for general purposes. + +"Then there is no 'son,' I take it." + +"Yes, there is, sir,"--this with a snort of anger. + +"How old is he?" + +"What the Dickens has that got to do with it? Will you kindly tell me +what you want, sir, as my time is fully occupied?" + +"Just now I want to know how old the 'son' is?" + +This calm persistence irritated Mr. Dodge beyond endurance. + +"Three years, confound you, and his sister is four months. Can I oblige +you with any more details concerning my family affairs?" + +Having purposely raised this man to boiling point by this harmless +method of examination, Claude tackled the real business in hand. He was +quite sure that a financial sharper in a temper was far more likely to +blurt out the truth than if he were approached in a matter-of-fact +manner. + +"To begin with," he explained, never taking his eyes off the furious +face of Mr. Dodge, "I have called to ask for information with regard to +your dealings with Mr. Sydney H. Corbett, of Raleigh Mansions, Sloane +Square." + +"I never heard of him in my life. You have evidently come to the wrong +office, Mr. Bruce." + +"Are you quite sure?" + +"Well, nearly so. However, I can tell you in a moment, as it is +impossible for me to carry every name connected with several companies +in my memory." + +Mr. Dodge recovered his temper now that he saw a chance of disconcerting +his caustic visitor. He touched an electric bell, and told the answering +youth to send Mr. Hawkins. + +"My correspondence clerk," he explained loftily when Hawkins entered. +"Are we in communication with any one named Sydney H. Corbett, Mr. +Hawkins?" + +"No, sir." + +"Have you ever heard the name?" + +"No, sir." + +"That will do. You may go. You see you have come to the wrong shop, Mr. +Bruce." + +"Yes, so I see." + +The barrister kept looking at the back of Mr. Dodge's head, but made no +move. + +Mr. Dodge became puzzled. + +"Now, Mr. Bruce," he cried, "you know the age of my son, and the extent +of my information about Mr. Corbett. Is there anything else in which I +may be of service?" + +"Yes. You do a great deal of underwriting, mostly for the flotation of +gold-mining companies?" + +"Y--yes. That is a branch of our business." + +"I am interested in this class of undertaking, and I was given to +understand that Mr. Corbett has had some dealings with you in a similar +respect for a considerable sum of money." + +"The name is absolutely unknown to me." + +"Of course. So I gather. I am sorry to hear it. Several clients of mine +have money to invest in that way, and I naturally came to a firm whose +name apparently figured largely in the transactions of Mr. Corbett." + +It was good to see the manner in which Mr. Dodge metaphorically kicked +himself for his previous attitude. His emotion was painful. For quite an +appreciable time he could not trust his sentiments to words. + +At last he struggled to express himself. + +"Really, Mr. Bruce, if you had only put things differently. Don't you +see, it rather upset me when you came in and began jawing about the +youngsters. And then you spring Mr. Corbett's name on me--a man of whom +I have no sort of knowledge. It must have been my firm of which your +friends heard. There is absolutely no other Dodge in Leadenhall Street. +Indeed, we are the only financial Dodges--that is--er--Messrs. Dodge, +Son & Co. (Limited) are the only firm of the name dealing with financial +matters--in the city." + +By this time Bruce had assured himself that Mr. Dodge did not know Mr. +Corbett's identity, and if Mrs. Hillmer's brother had changed his name +to conceal himself from Dodge, it was likely to be successful. + +"Anyhow, I am here, Mr. Dodge," he said cheerfully, "so I may as well +enter into negotiations with you. Have you any good things in hand at +this moment?" + +"Some of the best. We are just waiting for the market to ease a bit, +and we shall have at least five splendid properties to place before the +public. By the way, do you smoke?" + +Bruce did smoke; and Mr. Dodge produced a box of excellent cigars. Then +he warmed to his work. + +"Here is the prospectus of the Golden Halo Mine, capital L150,000, for +which the vendors are asking L140,000 in cash, with a working capital of +L10,000. The ore now in sight is estimated to produce two millions +sterling, and the mine is not one-tenth developed. We are offering +underwriters ten per cent in cash, and there is not the slightest risk, +as the shares will stand at a high premium within a few days after the +lists--" + +"It sounds most promising," said Bruce; "but my principals are more +interested in taking up concerns which have been already established, +but in which, for want of sufficient capital, the vendors' shares have, +by a process of reconstruction, come into the market. If you have +anything of that kind--" + +"The very thing," interrupted Dodge excitedly. "The Springbok Mine will +just suit 'em. After all is said and done, Golden Halos are a bit in the +air, between you and me. But the Springbok is a genuine article. It was +capitalized for a quarter of a million, and the directors went to +allotment on a subscription list of about L14,000. This money has been +expended, but twice the amount is necessary to develop the property +properly. A call was made on the shares, but no one paid up, and there +is a talk of compulsory reconstruction. Believe me, money put into it +now will yield two hundred per cent in dividends within twelve months." + +"There is a whiff of scent on this trail," said Claude to himself. He +added aloud: "That looks promising. Can you give me details?" + +"By all means. Here is the original prospectus." Bruce glanced through +the document, which dealt with the Springbok claims on the Rand with +more candor than is usually exhibited in such compilations. Judging from +the reports of several mining engineers of repute it really looked as +if, this time, Mr. Dodge were speaking with some degree of accuracy. + +"This reads well," said Bruce. "What proportion of share capital is +falling in on the reconstruction scheme?" + +"I hold fifty thousand shares myself," cried Dodge, "and though my money +is locked up just now I am so convinced about this mine that I will +manage to pay the call myself. Roughly speaking, there are one hundred +and fifty thousand shares to be underwritten at, say, three shillings +each." + +"And who are the present holders?" + +The barrister asked the question in the most unconcerned way imaginable, +yet upon the answer depended the whole success or otherwise of this +hitherto unproductive mission. + +Mr. Dodge was manifestly anxious. + +"I take it that we are talking with a definite view to business?" he +said. + +The barrister hesitated. Even in the detection of a crime a man does not +care to tell a deliberate lie, and Dodge's attitude so far had been +candid enough. The Springbok Mine honestly looked to be a good +speculative investment, so he resolved to place the proposition before +one or two friends who dealt with similar matters, and who were fully +able to look after their own interests. + +"Yes," he answered, "I am here for that purpose. If my principals like +this thing they will go in for it." + +"Then here is the vendors' list," said Mr. Dodge, taking a foolscap +sheet from a drawer. + +Claude perused it nonchalantly. His quick eyes took in each name and +address out of half-a-dozen, and rejected all as being in no way +connected with the man whose antecedents he was seeking. + +Yet, where possible, he left nothing to chance. + +"Have you any objection to a copy being made?" he asked. + +Mr. Dodge hummed doubtfully. + +"You see," went on the barrister, "it is best to be quite candid with +people whom you wish to bring into risky if apparently high promising +ventures. I presume these gentlemen are moneyless. If so, it is a factor +in favor of your scheme. Should any of them be men of means, my +principals would naturally ask why they did not themselves underwrite +the shares." + +Mr. Dodge was convinced. "From that point of view," he cried +emphatically, "they are above suspicion. Jot them down, sir." + +The barrister armed himself with the necessary documents, and they +parted with mutual good wishes. It was only after reflection that Mr. +Dodge saw how remarkably little he had got out of the interview. "He was +a jolly smart chap," communed the company promoter. "I wonder what he +was really after. And who the dickens is Mr. Sydney H. Corbett? Anyhow, +the Springbok business is quite above board. How can I raise the wind +for my little lot?" + +If Mr. Bruce had probed more deeply Mr. Dodge's holding, he would have +been saved much future perturbation. But, clever as he was, he did not +know all the methods of financial juggling practised by experts on the +Stock Exchange. + +A hansom brought him quickly to Portman Square. In fulfilment of his +promise, he was about to place Sir Charles Dyke in possession of his +recent discoveries. + +When the door of Wensley House opened, the butler, Thompson, who +happened to be in the hall, anticipated the footman's answer to Bruce's +inquiry. + +"Sir Chawles left yesterday for Bournemouth, sir. 'E was that hovercome +by the weather an' his trouble that 'e has gone for a few days' rest at +the seaside. If you called, sir, I was to tell you 'e would be glad to +see you there should you find it convenient to run down. And, sir, +you'll never guess who came 'ere this morning, as bold as brass." + +"Jane Harding." + +"Now, 'ow upon earth can you 'it upon things that way, sir? It was 'er, +'er very self. And you ought to 'ave seen her airs. 'Thompson,' sez she, +'is Sir Chawles at 'ome?' 'No, 'e isn't,' sez I; 'but you're wanted at +the polis station.' She was in a keb, and she 'ad asked a butcher's boy +to pull the bell, so 'im and the cabby larfed. 'Thompson,' she said, +very red in the face, 'I'll 'ave you dismissed for your impidence.' An' +off she went. Did you ever 'ear anythink like it, sir?" + +"No, Thompson, Miss Harding is certainly a cool hand." + +Bruce walked to his chambers, and his stroll through the parks was +engrossed by one subject of thought. It was not Mrs. Hillmer, nor +Corbett, nor Dodge who troubled him. What puzzled him more than all else +was the "impidence" of Jane Harding. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE HOTEL DU CERCLE + + +Bruce did not go to Bournemouth. + +He quitted London by the next mail, and after a wearisome journey of +thirty-six hours, found himself in the garden courtyard of the Hotel du +Cercle at Monte Carlo. + +Refreshed by a bath and an excellent _dejeuner_, he decided to go +quietly to work and search the visitors' book for himself without asking +any questions. The Hotel du Cercle was a popular resort, and it took him +some time, largely devoted to the elucidation of hieroglyphic +signatures, before he was quite satisfied that no one even remotely +suggestive of the name of Sydney H. Corbett had recorded his presence in +the hotel since the first week in November. + +The barrister, for the first time, began to doubt Mrs. Hillmer. Twice +had her statements not been verified by facts. It was with an expression +of keen annoyance at his own folly in trusting so much to a favorable +impression that he turned to the hotel clerk to ask if the name of Mr. +Sydney H. Corbett was familiar to him. + +The courteous Frenchman screwed up his forehead into a reflective frown +before he answered: "But yes, monsieur. Me, I have not seen the +gentleman, but he exists. There have been letters--two, three letters." + +"Ah, letters! Has he received them?" + +The attendant examined a green baize-covered board, decorated with +diamonds of tape, in which was stuck an assortment of letters, mostly +addressed to American tourists. + +"They were here! They have gone! Then he has taken them!" + +"Yes," cried Bruce; "but surely you know something about him?" + +"Nothing. This hall is open to all the world." + +"Do you tell me that any one can come here and take any letters which +may be stuck in that rack?" + +"Will the gentleman be pleased to consider? Many persons give their +address here days and weeks before they come to arrive. Some persons, in +the manner of Monte Carlo, do not wish their names to be known of +everybody. We cannot distinguish. We do not allow the address of the +hotel to be used improperly, if we know it; but there are no +complaints." + +The barrister did not argue the matter further. He only said: "Perhaps +you can tell me thus far, as I am very anxious to meet Mr. Corbett. +About how long is it since the last letter came for him?" + +"But certainly. It came yesterday. It was re-addressed from some place +in London. If possible, with the next one I will keep watch for Mr. +Corbett." + +So Mrs. Hillmer had not misled him. The so-called Corbett was in Monte +Carlo, but had possibly disguised himself under another name. Again did +Bruce consult the hotel register, this time with the aid of the vendors' +list in the Springbok Mine, but without result. + +There was nothing for it but to familiarize himself with Monte Carlo and +its _habitues_, awaiting developments in the chase of Corbett. In +January, when London alternates between fog and sleet, it is not an +intolerable thing to remain in forced idleness amid the sunshine and +flowers of the Riviera. There are two ways of "doing" Monte Carlo. You +may live riotously, lose your substance at the Casino, and go home on a +free ticket supplied by the proprietors of the gambling saloons, or you +may enjoy to the utmost the keen air, magnificent scenery, fine +promenades, and excellent music--the two latter provided by the same +benevolent agency. + +It is needless to say which of these alternatives appealed to Claude +Bruce. Being a rich man, it was of no consequence to him to lose a few +louis in backing the red for a five minutes' bit of excitement. Being a +sensible one, he then quitted the Casino and went for a stroll in the +gardens. + +Fashion, backed by the doctors, has decreed that no longer shall +the northern littoral of the Mediterranean be the only haven of +rest for those afflicted with pulmonary complaints. Weak-chested and +consumptive people are now banished to the windless and icy altitudes +of Switzerland; so of recent years a walk through Nice, Mentone, or +Monte Carlo itself is not such a depressing experience as it was when +every second person encountered was a hopeless invalid. + +A pigeon-shooting match was in progress, and, as Bruce fell in with a +friend who took a prominent part in local life, the two entered the club +grounds to watch the contest. + +At the moment a handsome, well-set-up young Englishman was shooting off +a tie with a Russian count. A very pretty girl, with a delicate and +refined beauty enhanced by a pleasant expression, was taking a most +unfeminine interest in the slaughter of the pigeons by the Englishman. + +Her eyes spoke her thoughts. It was as if they said: "I do not want the +birds to be killed, but I want a certain person to win." + +Nine birds each had been grassed, and the Russian was growing impatient. +The Englishman was cool, his fair backer keenly excited. The Count fired +and missed his tenth. Up rose the Englishman's bird, and the girl could +not restrain an impetuous "Now!" + +So the Englishman missed also. + +Amidst the buzz of comment which arose, Bruce said to his companion: +"What's going on?" + +"This is the final tie in the International. It is a big prize, and each +man has backed himself heavily. The two are Albert Mensmore and Count +Bischkoff. The girl has taken all the nerve out of Mensmore. Bar +accident, he is a goner." + +The cynic was right. In the thirteenth round the count alone scored, and +smiled largely in response to his antagonist's quiet congratulations. As +for the girl, it was with difficulty she restrained her tears. + +"I think that we have witnessed a tragedy," said Bruce's acquaintance as +they walked off; and the barrister agreed with him. He was sorry for +Mensmore and his pretty supporter. Mayhap the loss of the match meant a +great deal to both of them. + +That night he learned by chance that Mensmore lived at the Hotel du +Cercle. He met him in the billiard-room and tried to inveigle him into +conversation. But the young fellow was too miserable to respond to his +advances. Beyond a mere civil acknowledgement of some slight act of +politeness, Bruce could not draw him out. + +Next morning he saw Mensmore again. If the man looked haggard the +previous evening his appearance now was positively startling, that is, +to one of Bruce's powers of observation. Ninety-nine men out of a +hundred would have seen that Mensmore had not slept well. Bruce was +assured that, for some reason, the other's brain was dominated by some +overwhelming idea, and one which might eventuate in a tragic manner were +it to be allowed to go unchecked. + +For some reason he took a good deal of interest in his unfortunate +fellow-countryman, and determined to help him if the opportunity +presented itself. + +It came, with dramatic rapidity. + +During dinner he noticed that Mensmore was in such a state of mental +disturbance that he ate and drank with the air of one who is feverishly +wasting rather than replenishing his strength. + +Soon after eight o'clock, at the hour when frequenters of the Casino go +there in order to secure a seat for the evening's play, Mensmore quitted +the dining-room. Bruce followed him unobstrusively, and was just in time +to see him enter the lift. + +The barrister waited in the hall, having first secured his hat and +overcoat from the bureau, where he happened to have left them. + +Even while he noted the descending lift, in which he could see Mensmore, +who had donned a light covert coat, the breast of which bulged somewhat +on the left side, the hotel clerk came to him, triumphantly holding a +letter. + +"And now, monsieur," cried the clerk, "we shall see what we shall see." + +The missive was addressed to the mysterious Sydney H. Corbett, and had +been forwarded by the Sloane Square Post-Office. + +With a clang the door of the lift swung open and Mensmore hastened out. +Bruce had to decide instantly between the chance of seeing Corbett with +his own eyes and pursuing the fanciful errand he had mapped out in +imagination with reference to the stranger who so interested him. + +"Thank you," he said to the clerk. "I am going to the Casino for an +hour; you will greatly oblige me by keeping a sharp lookout for any one +who claims the letter." + +"Monsieur, it shall have my utmost regard." + +The barrister had not erred in his surmise as to Mensmore's destination. +The young man walked straight across the square and entered the grounds +of the famous Casino. + +Indoors, an excellent band was playing a selection from "The Geisha." +The spacious _foyer_ was fast filling with a fashionable throng; +without, the silver radiance of the moon, lighting up gardens, rocks, +buildings, and sea, might well have added the last link to the pleasant +bondage that would keep any one from the gambling saloon that night; but +Mensmore heeded none of these things. + +He passed the barrier, closely followed by Bruce, crossed the _foyer_, +and disappeared through the baize doors that guard the magnificent room +in which roulette is played. + +Round several of the tables a fairly considerable crowd had gathered +already. The more, the merrier, is the rule of the Casino. There is +something curiously fascinating for the gambler in the presence of +others. It would seem to be an almost ridiculous thing for a man to +stalk solemnly up to a deserted board and stake his money on the chances +of the game merely for the edification of the officials in charge. + +Bruce entered the room soon after Mensmore, and saw the latter elbowing +his way to a seat about to be vacated by a stout Spanish lady, who had +rapidly lost the sum she allowed herself to stake each day. + +She was one of those numerous players who bring to the Casino a certain +amount daily, and systematically stop playing when they have either lost +their money or won a previously determined maximum. + +This method, in fact, when combined with a careful system, is the only +one whereby even a rich individual can indulge in a costly pastime, and, +at the same time, escape speedy ruin. With a fair share of luck it may +be made to pay; with continuous bad fortune the loss is spread over such +a period that common sense has some opportunity to rescue the victim +before it is too late. + +Claude took up a position from which he could note the actions of the +stranger in whom he was so interested. At first, Mensmore staked +nothing. He placed a small pile of gold in front of him; he seemed to +listen expectantly to the _croupier's_ monotonous cry--"_Vingt-sept_, +_rouge_, _impair_, _passe_," or "_Dixhuit_, _noir_, _pair_, _manque_," +and so on, while the little ivory ball whirred around the disc, and the +long rakes, with unerring skill, drew in or pushed forward the sums lost +or won. + +The dominant expression of Mensmore's face as he sat and listened was +one of disappointment. Something for which he waited did not happen. At +last, with a tightening of his lips and a gathering sternness in his +eyes, he placed five louis on the red, the number previously called +being thirteen. + +Black won. + +For the next three attempts, each time with a five louis stake on the +board, Mensmore backed the red, but still black won. + +Next to him, an Italian, betting in notes of a thousand francs each, +had quadrupled his first bet by backing the black. + +Both men rose simultaneously, the Italian grinning delightedly at a +smart Parisienne, who joyously nodded her congratulations, the +Englishman quiet, utterly unmoved, but slightly pallid. + +He passed out into the _foyer_ and stopped to light a cigarette. Bruce +noticed that his hand was steady, and that all the air of excitement had +gone. + +These were ill signs. There is no man so calm as he who has deliberately +resolved to take his own life. That Mensmore was ruined, that he was +hopelessly in love with a woman whom he could not marry, and that he was +about to commit suicide, Bruce was as certain as though the facts had +been proved by a coroner. + +But this thing should not happen if he could prevent it. + +The band was now playing one of Waldteufel's waltzes. Mensmore listened +to the fascinating melody for a moment. He hesitated at the door of the +writing-room; but he went out, puffing furiously at his cigarette. A +guard looked at him as he turned to the right of the entrance, and made +for the shaded terraces overlooking the sea. + +"A silent Englishman," thought the man; and he caught sight of Bruce, +also smoking, preoccupied, and solitary. + +"Another silent Englishman. _Mon Dieu!_ What miserable lives these +English lead!" + +And so the two vanished into the blackness of the foliage, while, within +the brilliantly lighted building, the _frou-frou_ of silk mingled with +soft laughter and the sweet strains of music. + +If it be true that extremes meet, then this was a night for a tragedy. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +BREAKING THE BANK + + +There were not many people in this part of the Casino gardens. A few +love-making couples and a handful of others who preferred the chilly +quietude of Nature to the throng of the interior promenade, made up the +occupants of the winding paths that cover the seaward slope. + +At last Mensmore halted. There was no one in front, and he turned to +look if the terrace were clear behind him. He caught sight of Bruce, but +did not recognize him, and leant against a low wall, ostensibly to gaze +at the sea until the other had passed. + +Claude came up to him and cried cheerily: + +"Hello! Is that you, Mr. Mensmore? Isn't it a lovely night?" + +Mensmore, startled at being thus unexpectedly addressed by name, wheeled +about, stared at the new-comer, and said, very stiffly: + +"Yes; but I felt rather seedy in the Casino, so I came here to be +alone." + +"Of course," answered the barrister. "You look a little out of sorts. +Perhaps got a chill, eh? It is dangerous weather here, particularly on +these heavenly evenings. Come back with me to the hotel, and have a +stiff brandy and soda. It will brace you up." + +Mensmore flushed a little at this persistence. + +"I tell you," he growled, "that I only require to be left in peace, and +I shall soon recover from my indisposition. I am awfully obliged to you, +but--" + +"But you wish me to walk on and mind my own business?" + +"Not exactly that, old chap. Please don't think me rude. I am very +sorry, but I _can't_ talk much to-night." + +"So I understand. That is why I think it is best for you to have +company, even such disagreeable companionship as my own." + +"Confound it, man," cried the other, now thoroughly irritated; "tell me +which way you are going and I will take the other. Why on earth cannot +you take a polite hint, and leave me to myself?" + +"It is precisely because I am good at taking a hint that I positively +refuse to leave you until you are safely landed at your hotel. Indeed, I +may stick to you then for some hours." + +"The devil take you! What do you mean?" + +"Exactly what I say." + +"If you don't quit this instant I will punch your head for you." + +"Ah! You are recovering already. But before you start active exercise +take your overcoat off. That revolver in the breast pocket might go off +accidentally, you know. Besides, as I shall hit back, I might fetch my +knuckles against it, and that would be hardly fair. Otherwise, I can do +as much in the punching line as you can, any day." + +This reply utterly disconcerted Mensmore. + +"Look here," he said, avoiding Bruce's steadfast gaze, "what are you +talking about? What has it got to do with you, anyhow?" + +"Oh, a great deal. My business principally consists in looking after +other people's affairs. Just now it is my definite intention to prevent +you from blowing out your brains, or what passes for them." + +"Then all I can say is that I wish you were in Jericho. It is your own +fault if you get into trouble over this matter. Had you gone about your +business I would have waited. As it is--" + +It so happened that the guard, having nothing better to do, strolled +along the terraces by the same path that Mensmore and Bruce had +followed. The first sight that met his astonished eyes, when in the +flood of moonlight he discovered their identity, was the spectacle of +these two springing at each other like a pair of wild cats. + +"_Parbleu_," he shouted, "the solitary ones are fighting!" + +He ran forward, drawing his short sword, ready to stick the weapon into +either of the combatants if the majesty of the law in his own person +were not at once respected. + +In reality, the affair was simple enough. Mensmore made an ineffectual +attempt to draw his revolver, and Bruce pinioned him before he could get +his hand up to his pocket. Both men were equally matched, and it was +difficult to say how the struggle might have ended had not the +sword-brandishing guard appeared on the scene. + +Claude, even in this excited situation, kept his senses. Mensmore, blind +with rage and the madness of one who would voluntarily plunge into the +Valley of the Shadow, took heed of naught save the effort to rid himself +of the restraining clutch. + +"Put away your sword. Seize his arms from behind. He is a suicide," +shouted the barrister to the gesticulating and shrieking Frenchman. + +Fortunately, Bruce was an excellent linguist. The man caught Mensmore's +arms, put a knee in the small of his back, and doubled him backwards +with a force that nearly dislocated his spine. In the same instant +Claude secured the revolver, which he promptly pocketed. + +"It is well," he said to the guard. "Here is a louis. Say nothing, but +leave us." + +"Monsieur understands that the honor of a French policeman--" + +"I understand that if there is any report made of this affair to the +authorities you will be dismissed for negligence. Had this lunatic been +left to your care he would now have been lying here dead. Do you doubt +me?" + +The guard hesitated. "Monsieur mentioned a louis," he said, for Bruce's +finger and thumb had returned the coin to his waistcoat pocket. + +This transaction satisfactorily ended, Bruce accosted Mensmore, who was +awkwardly twisting himself to see if his backbone were all right. + +"You are not hurt, I hope?" + +"It is matterless. Why could you not let me finish the business in my +own way?" + +"Because the world has some use for a man like you. Because you are a +moral coward, and require support from a stronger nature. Because I did +not want to think of that girl crying her eyes out to-morrow when she +read of your death, or heard of it, as she assuredly would have done." + +Mensmore, though still furious at his fellow-countryman's interference, +was visibly amazed at this final reference. + +"What do you know about her?" he cried. + +"Nothing, save what my eyes tell me." + +"They seem to tell you a remarkable lot about my affairs." + +"Possibly. Meanwhile I want you to give me your word of honor that you +will not make any further attempt on your life during the next seven +days." + +"The word of honor of a disgraced man! Will you accept it?" + +"Most certainly." + +"You are a queer chap, and no mistake. Very well, I give it. At the same +time, I cannot help dying of starvation. I lost my last cent to-night at +roulette. I am hopelessly involved in debts which I cannot pay. I have +no prospects and no friends. You are not doing me a kindness, my dear +fellow, in keeping me alive, even for seven days." + +"You might have obtained your fare to London from the authorities of the +Casino?" + +"Hardly. I lost very little at roulette. I am not such a fool. My losses +are nearly all in bets over the pigeon-shooting match which I ought to +have won. I was backing myself at a game where I was apparently sure to +succeed." + +"Until you were beaten by a woman's voice." + +"Yes, wizard. I am too dazed to wonder at you sufficiently. Yet I would +have lost fifty times for her sake, though it was for her sake that I +wanted to win." + +"Come, let us smoke. Sit down, and tell me all about it." + +They took the nearest seat, lighting cigarettes. The guard, watching +them from the shade of a huge palm-tree, murmured: + +"Holy Virgin, what madmen are these English! They move apart, unknown; +they fight; they fraternize; they consume tobacco--all within five +minutes." + +And he lovingly felt for the louis to assure himself that he was not +dreaming. + +"There is not much to tell," said Mensmore, who had quite recovered his +self-control, and was now trying to sum up the man who had so curiously +entered his life at the moment when he had decided to do away with it. +"I came here, being a poor chap living mostly on my wits, to go in for +the pigeon-shooting tournaments. I won several, and was in fair funds. +Then I fell in love. The girl is rich, well-connected, and all that sort +of thing. She is the first good influence that has crossed my life, so I +thought that perhaps my luck was now going to turn. I backed myself for +all I was worth, and more, to win the championship. If it came off I +should have won over L3,000. As it is, I owe L500, which must be paid on +Monday. My total assets, after I settled my hotel bill and sent a cheque +to a chum who took some of my bets in his own name, was L16. Now I have +nothing. So you see--" + +"Yes," interrupted Bruce, "it is a hard case. But death is no +settlement. Nobody gets paid, and everybody is worried." + +"My dear fellow, my life is in your keeping for seven days. After that, +I presume, I take myself in charge again." + +The barrister took thought for a while before he inquired: + +"Why did you go to the Casino to-night, if you did not patronize the +tables as a rule?" + +The other colored somewhat and laughed sarcastically. + +"Just a final bit of folly. I dreamt that my luck had turned." + +"Dreamt?" + +"Yes, last night. Three times did I imagine that I was playing roulette, +and that after a certain number--whether thirteen or twenty-three I was +uncertain--turned up, there was a run of seventeen on the red. The funny +thing is that I had an impression that the number was twenty-three, +but with a doubt that it might be thirteen. I remember, during a +sub-conscious state in the third dream, resolving to listen and look +more carefully to discover the exact number. But again things got +blurred. The only clear point was that the run of seventeen on the red +commenced at once." + +"Well?" + +"Well, I took my remaining cash, went to the Casino, became a bit +impatient when neither number turned up for quite a while, and when +thirteen appeared I backed the red. But four times it was the black that +won." + +"So I saw." + +"Have you been keeping guard over me?" + +"Yes, in a sort of way." + +"You are a queer chap. I can't help saying that I am obliged to you. But +it won't do any good. I am absolutely dead broke." + +"Now listen to me. I will pay your fare back to London and give you +something to live on until I return a week hence. Then you must come to +see me, and I will help you into some sort of situation. But you must +once and for all abandon this notion of suicide." + +"What about my debts?" + +"Confound your debts. Tell people to wait until you are able to pay +them." + +"And--and the girl?" + +"If she is worth having she will give you a chance of making a living +sufficient to enable you to marry her. She is of age, I suppose, and can +marry any one she likes." + +Mensmore puffed his cigarette in silence for fully a minute. Then he +said: + +"You are a very decent sort, Mr.--" + +"Bruce--Claude Bruce is my name." + +"Well, Mr. Bruce, you propose to hand me L10 for my railway fare, and, +say, L5 for my existence, until we meet again in London, in exchange for +which you purchase the rights in my life indefinitely, accidents and +reasonable wear and tear excepted." + +"Exactly!" + +"Make it L20, with five louis down, and I accept." + +"Why the stipulation?" + +"I want to back my dream. The number is twenty-three. It evidently was +not thirteen. I want to see that thing through. I will back the red +after twenty-three turns up, and if I lose I shall be quite satisfied." + +"What if I refuse?" + +"Then I don't care a bit what happens during the next seven days. After +that, _au revoir_, should we happen to meet across the divide. Please +make up your mind quickly. That run on the red may come and go while we +are sitting here." + +Bruce opened his pocket-book. "Here," he said with a smile, "I will give +you four hundred francs. You will reach the maximum more quickly if you +are right." + +Mensmore's face lit up with excitement. "By Jove, you are a brick," he +said. "So you really trust me?" + +"Yes." + +"Then give me back my revolver." + +Without a word, Bruce handed him the weapon. + +Mensmore extracted the cartridges and threw them into a clump of shrubs. + +"Come," he cried; "come with me to the Casino. You will see something. +This is not my own luck; it is borrowed. Come, quick!" + +They raced off, Bruce himself being more fired with the zest of the +thing than he cared to admit. Within the Casino all the tables were now +crowded, but Mensmore hurried to that at which he sat during his earlier +visit. + +"It was here that I played in my dream," he whispered, "soon after I +came to it." + +He edged through the onlookers, closely followed by Bruce. Neither cared +for the scowls and injured looks cast at them by the people whom they +forced out of the way. + +The Italian, the winner of half an hour ago, had come back like a moth +to the candle. Now he was getting his wings singed. At last, with a +groan, he hastily rose, but as a final effort flung the maximum, six +thousand francs, on the black. + +The disc whirled and slowly slackened pace, the ball rested in one of +the little squares, and the _croupier's_ monotonous words came: + +"_Vingt-trois_, _rouge_, _impair_, _et passe_!" + +Out bounced the Italian, and Mensmore seized his chair, turning to Bruce +with white face as he murmured: + +"You hear! Twenty-three!" + +The barrister nodded, and placed his hands on Mensmore's shoulders as +though to steady him. + +Mensmore staked his ten louis on the red. They became twenty, then +forty. Another whirl and they were eighty. A fourth made them one +hundred and sixty. + +Mensmore was now so agitated that the table and the players swam before +his eyes. But Bruce, under the stress of exciting circumstances, had the +gift of remaining preternaturally cool. + +At the fifth coup the sum to Mensmore's credit was L256. He would have +left it all on the table had not Bruce withdrawn L16 in notes, as the +maximum is L240. + +When Mensmore won the sixth and seventh coups a buzz of animated +interest passed around the board. People began to note the run on the +red, together with the fact that a man was staking the maximum each +time. Even the _croupiers_ cast fleeting glances at the new-comer, when, +several times in succession, the long rake pushed across the table the +little pile of money and notes. + +Thenceforth Mensmore sat in a state of stupor more pronounced now that +he was playing and awake than when he dreamt he was playing. + +Each time he mechanically staked the maximum and received back twice as +much, while the eager onlookers now burst into cries of wonder that +brought others running from all parts of the room. + +But Bruce did not lose count. + +When the red had turned up seventeen times, and the amount to Mensmore's +credit was L3,128, he shook the latter violently as he was about to +shove forward another maximum, and, of his own volition, placed the +money on the black. + +"_Douze_, _noir_, _pair et manque_," sang out the _croupier_, and Bruce +hissed into Mensmore's ear: + +"Get up at once." + +His strangely made acquaintance obeyed, gathered up his gold and notes, +fastened them securely in an inner pocket, and the pair quitted the +Casino amid extravagant protestations of good-will and friendship from +all the voluble foreigners present, having attracted not a little +attention from the less demonstrative Americans and English in the room. + +It was some time before the roulette tables began their orderly round +again, for Mensmore's sensational performance was in everybody's mouth. + +The highest recorded sum is twenty-three on the black, but a run of +eighteen on the red is sufficiently remarkable to keep Monte Carlo in +talk for a week. + +Albert Mensmore certainly could not complain that the events of the +particular evening were dull. For one hour at least he lived in the fire +that consumes, for he stepped back from the porch of dishonored death to +find himself the possessor of a sum more than sufficient for his +reasonable requirements. + +The pace was rapid and almost fatal. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +SOME GOOD RESOLUTIONS + + +Once safe in the seclusion of Claude's sitting-room Mensmore almost +collapsed. The strain had been a severe one, and now he had to pay the +penalty by way of reaction. + +The barrister forced him to swallow a stiff brandy and soda, and then +wished him to retire to rest, but the other protested with some show of +animation. + +"Let me talk, for goodness' sake!" he cried. "I cannot be alone. You +have seen me through a lot of trouble to-night. Stick to me for another +hour, there's a good fellow." + +"With pleasure. Perhaps it is the best thing you can do, after all. Let +us see how much you have won." + +Bruce made a calculation on a sheet of paper and said: "Exclusive of the +original stake of ten louis you ought to have L3,128." + +Mensmore pulled out of his pocket the crumpled bundle of notes and +bills. Claude's notes were among them, and he tossed them across the +table with a smile. + +"There's your capital. I will see if the total is all right before we go +shares." + +Claude nodded, and Mensmore began to jot down the items of his valuable +package. He bothered with the figures for some time but could not get +them right. Finally he tossed everything over to the other, saying: + +"No matter how I count, I can't get this calculation straight. Seventeen +coups, beginning with ten louis, work out at L3,128 all right enough. +But in this lot there is L3,368, and they don't pay twice at the +Casino." + +The barrister thought for a moment, and then laughed heartily. "I +remember now," he said; "I kept careful count of the series of +seventeen, or eighteen, to be exact. On my own account, as you were too +dazed to notice anything, I put a maximum on the black. Your dream +turned up trumps, as the series stopped and black won. Hence the odd +L240." + +"Then that is yours," said the other gravely. "I will take L1,128 to +square all my debts, and we go shares in the balance, a thousand each, +if you think that fair. If not I will gladly hand over the lot, after +paying my debts, I mean." + +Mensmore's seriousness impressed the barrister more than any other +incident of that dramatic evening. + +"You forget," he replied, "that I told you I had money in plenty for my +own needs. You must keep every farthing except my own L8, which you do +not now need. No. Please do not argue. I will consent to no other +course. This turn of Fortune's wheel should provide you with sufficient +capital to branch out earnestly in your career, whatever it be. I will +ask my interest in different manner." + +"I can never repay you, in gratitude, at any rate. And there is another +who will be thankful to you when she knows. Ask anything you like. Make +any stipulation you please. I agree to it." + +"It is a bargain. Sign this." + +Bruce took a sheet of notepaper, bearing the crest of the Hotel du +Cercle, dated it, and wrote: + + "I promise that, for the space of twelve months, I will not + make a bet of any sort, or gamble at any game of chance." + +When Mensmore read the document his face fell a little. "Won't you +except pigeon-shooting?" he said. "I am sure to beat that Russian next +time." + +"I can allow no exceptions." + +"But why limit me for twelve months?" + +"Because if in that time you do not gain sense enough to stop risking +your happiness, even your life, upon the turn of a card or the flight of +a bird, the sooner thereafter you shoot yourself the less trouble you +will bring upon those connected with you." + +"You are a rum chap," murmured Mensmore, "and you put matters pretty +straight, too. However, here goes. You don't bar me from entering for +sweepstakes." + +He signed the paper, and tossed it over to Bruce, while the latter did +not comment upon the limitation of his intentions imposed by Mensmore's +final sentence. The man undoubtedly was a good shot, and during his +residence in the Riviera he might pick up some valuable prizes. + +"And now," said the barrister, "may I ask as a friend to what use you +intend to put your newly found wealth?" + +"Oh, that is simple enough. I have to pay L500 which I lost in bets over +that beastly unlucky match. Then I have a splendid 'spec,' into which I +will now be able to place about L2,000--a thing which I have good reason +to believe will bring me in at least ten thou' within the year, and +there is nearly a thousand pounds to go on with. And all thanks to you." + +"Never mind thanking me. I am only too glad to have taken such a part in +the affair. I will not forget this night as long as I live." + +"Nor I. Just think of it. I might be lying in the gardens now, or in +some mortuary, with half my head blown off." + +"Tell me," said Bruce, between the contemplative puffs of a cigar, "what +induced you to think of suicide?" + +"It was a combination of circumstances," replied the other. "You must +understand that I was somewhat worried about financial and family +matters when I came to Monte Carlo. It was not to gamble, in a sense, +that I remained here. I have loafed about the world a good deal, but I +may honestly say I never made a fool of myself at cards or backing +horses. At most kinds of sport I am fairly proficient, and in +pigeon-shooting, which goes on here extensively, I am undoubtedly an +expert. For instance, all this season I have kept myself in funds simply +by means of these competitions." + +His hearer nodded approvingly. + +"Well, in the midst of my minor troubles, I must needs go and fall over +head and ears in love--a regular bad case. She is the first woman I ever +spoke two civil words to. We met at a picnic along the Corniche Road, +and she sat upon me so severely that I commenced to defend myself by +showing that I was not such a surly brute as I looked. By Jove, in a +week we were engaged." + +The barrister indulged in a judicial frown. + +"No. It's none of your silly, sentimental affairs in which people part +and meet months afterwards with polite inquiries after each other's +health. I am not made that way; neither is Phil--Phyllis is her name, +you know. This is for life. I am just bound up in her, and she would go +through fire and water for me. But she is rich, the only daughter of a +Midland iron-master with tons of money. Her people are awfully nice, and +I think they approve of me, though they have no idea that Phil and I +are engaged." + +He paused to gulp down a strong decoction of brandy and soda. The +difficult part of his story was coming. + +"You can quite believe," he continued, "that I did not want to ask her +father, Sir William Browne--he was knighted by the late Queen for his +distinguished municipal services--to give his daughter to a chap who +hadn't a cent. He supposes I am fairly well off, living as I do, and I +can't bear acting under false pretences. I hate it like poison, though +in this world a man often has to do what he doesn't like. However, this +time I determined to be straight and above board. It was a very odd +fact, but I just wanted L3000 to enable me to make a move which, I tell +you, ought to result in a very fair sum of money, sufficient, at any +rate, to render it a reasonable proposition for Phil and me to get +married." + +Claude was an appreciative listener. These love stories of real life are +often so much more dramatic than the fictions of the novel or the stage. + +"The opportunity came, to my mind, in this big tournament. I had no +difficulty of getting odds in six or seven to one to far more than I was +able to pay if I lost. Phil came into the scheme with me--she knows all +about me, you know--and we both regarded it as a certainty. Then the +collapse came. She wanted to get the money from her mother to enable me +to pay up, but I would not hear of it. I pretended that I could raise +the wind some other way. The fact is I was wild with myself and with my +luck generally. Then there was the disgrace of failing to settle on +Monday, combined with the general excitement of that dream and a +fearfully disturbed night. To make a long story short, I thought the +best thing to do was to try a final plunge, and if it failed, to quit. +I even took steps to make Phil believe I was a bad lot, so that she +might not fret too much after me." + +Mensmore's voice was a little unsteady in this last sentence. The +barrister tried to cheer him by a little bit of raillery: + +"I hope you have not succeeded too well?" he laughed. + +"Oh, it is all right now. I mean that I left her some papers which would +bring things to her knowledge that, unexplained by me, would give any +one a completely false impression." + +The subject was evidently a painful one, so Bruce did not pursue it. + +"About this speculation of yours," he said. "Are you sure it's all +right, and that you will not lose your money?" + +"It is as certain as any business can be. It is a matter I thoroughly +understand, but I will tell you all about it. If you will pardon me a +moment I will bring you the papers, as I should like to have your +advice, and it is early yet. You don't want to go to bed, I suppose?" + +"Not for hours." + +Mensmore rose, but before he reached the door a gentle tap heralded the +appearance of the hall-porter. + +"There is a letter for the gentleman. Monsieur is not in his room. He is +reported to be here, so I bring it." + +Mensmore took the note, read it with a smile and a growing flush, and +handed it to the barrister, saying: "Under the circumstances I think you +ought to see this. Isn't she a brick?" + +The tiny missive ran: + + "_Dearest One_,--You must forgive me, but we are both so + miserable about that wretched money that I told mother + everything. She likes you, and though she gave me a blowing up, + she has promised to give me L500 to-morrow. We can never thank + her sufficiently. Do come around and see me for a minute. I + will be in the verandah until eleven. + + "Ever yours, + "PHYLLIS." + +Claude returned the note. + +"Luck! you're the luckiest fellow in the South of France!" he said. +"Why, here's the mother plotting with the daughter on your behalf. Sir +William hasn't the ghost of a chance. Off you go to that blessed +verandah." + +When Mensmore had quitted the hotel Bruce descended to the bureau to +take up the threads of his neglected quest. The letter to Sydney H. +Corbett was still unclaimed, and he thought he was justified in +examining it. On the reverse of the envelope was the embossed stamp of +an electric-lighting company, so the contents were nothing more +important than a bill. + +An hour later Mensmore joined him in the billiard-room, radiant and +excited. + +"Great news," he said. "I squared everything with Lady Browne. Told her +I was only chaffing Phil about the five hundred, because she spoiled my +aim by shrieking out. Sir William has chartered a steam yacht to go for +a three weeks' cruise along the Gulf of Genoa and the Italian coast. +They have put him up to ask me in the morning to join the party. Great +Scott! what a night I'm having!" + +They parted soon afterwards, and next morning Bruce was informed that +his friend had gone out early, leaving word that he had been summoned to +breakfast at the Grand Hotel, where Sir William Browne was staying. + +During the afternoon Mensmore came to him like a whirlwind. "We're off +to-day," he said. "By the way, where shall I find you in London?" + +The barrister gave him his address, and Mensmore, handing him a card, +said, "My permanent address is given here, the Orleans Club, St. +James's. But I will look you up first. I shall be in town early in +March. And you?" + +"Oh, I shall be home much sooner. Good-bye, and don't let your good luck +spoil you." + +"No fear! Wait until you know Phyllis. She would keep any fellow all +right once he got his chance, as I have done. Good-bye, and--and--God +bless you!" + +During the next three days Bruce devoted himself sedulously to the +search for Corbett. He inquired in every possible and impossible place, +but the man had utterly vanished. + +Nor did he come to claim his letter at the Hotel du Cercle. It remained +stuck on the baize-covered board until it was covered with dust, and the +clerk of the bureau had grown weary of watching people who scrutinized +the receptacle for their correspondence. + +Others came and asked for Corbett--sharp-featured men with imperials and +long moustaches--the interest taken in the man was great, but +unrequited. He never appeared. + +At last the season ended, the hotel was closed, and the mysterious +letter was shot into the dustbin. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THEORIES + + +Bruce announced his departure from Monte Carlo by a telegram to his +valet. + +Nevertheless, he did not expect to find that useful adjunct to his +small household--Smith and his wife comprised the barrister's +_menage_--standing on the platform at Charing Cross when the mail +train from the Continent steamed into the station. + +Smith, who had his doubts about this sudden trip to the Riviera, was +relieved when he saw his master was alone. "Sir Charles Dyke called this +afternoon, sir," he explained. "I told Sir Charles about your wire, sir, +and he is very anxious that you should dine with him to-night. You can +dress at Portman Square, and if I come with you--" + +"Yes; I understand. Bundle everything into a four-wheeler." + +"Sir Charles thought you might come, sir, so he sent his carriage." + +London looked dull but familiar as they rolled across Leicester Square +and up Regent Street. Your true Cockney knows that he is out of his +latitude when the sky is blue overhead. Let him hear the tinkle of the +hansoms' bells through a dim, fog-laden atmosphere, and he knows where +he is. There is but one London, and Cockneydom is the order of +Melchisedek. Claude's heart was glad within him to be home again, even +though the band was just gathering in the Casino gardens, and the lights +of Monaco were beginning to gleam over the moon-lit expanse of the +Mediterranean. + +At Wensley House the traveller was warmly welcomed by the baronet, who +seemed to have somewhat recovered his health and spirits. + +Nevertheless, Bruce was distressed to note the ineffaceable signs of the +suffering Sir Charles Dyke had undergone since the disappearance of his +wife. He had aged quite ten years in appearance. Deep lines of sorrowful +thought had indented his brow, his face was thinner, his eyes had +acquired a wistful look; his air was that of a man whose theory of life +had been forcibly reversed. + +At first both men fought shy of the topic uppermost in their minds, but +the after-dinner cigar brought the question to Dyke's lips: + +"And now, Claude, have you any further news concerning my +wife's--death?" + +The barrister noted the struggle before the final word came. The husband +had, then, resigned all hope. + +"I have none," he answered. "That is to say, I have nothing definite. I +promised to tell you everything I did, so I will keep my promise, but +you will, of course, differentiate between facts and theories?" + +The baronet nodded an agreement. + +"In the first place," said Bruce, "let me ask you whether or not you +have seen Jane Harding, the missing maid?" + +"Yes. It seems that she called here twice before she caught me at home. +At first she was very angry about a squabble there had been between +Thompson and herself. I refused to listen to it. Then she told me how +you had found her at some theatre, and she volunteered an explanation +of her extraordinary behavior. She said that she had unexpectedly +come into a large sum of money, and that it had turned her head. She +was sorry for the trouble her actions had caused, so, under the +circumstances, I allowed her to take away certain clothes and other +belongings she had left here." + +"Did she ask for these things?" + +"Yes. Made quite a point of it." + +"Did you see them?" + +"No." + +"So you do not know whether they were of any value, or the usual +collection of rubbish found in servants' boxes." + +"I have not the slightest notion." + +"Have they ever been thoroughly examined by any one?" + +"'Pon my honor, I believe not. Now that you remind me of it I think the +girl seemed rather anxious on that point. I remember my housekeeper +telling me that Harding had asked her if her clothes had been ransacked +by the detectives." + +"And what did the housekeeper say?" + +"She will tell you herself. Let us have her up." + +"Don't trouble her. If I remember aright the police did not examine Jane +Harding's room. They simply took your report and the statements of the +other servants, while the housekeeper was responsible for the partial +search made through the girl's boxes for some clue that might lead to +her discovery." + +"That is so." + +The barrister smoked in silence for a few minutes, until Sir Charles +broke out rather querulously: + +"I suppose I did wrong in letting Harding take her traps?" + +"No," said Bruce. "It is I who am to blame. There is something +underhanded about this young woman's conduct. The story about the sudden +wealth is all bunkum, in one sense. That she did receive a bequest or +gift of a considerable sum cannot be doubted. That she at once decided +to go on the stage is obvious. But what is the usual course for a +servant to pursue in such cases? Would she not have sought first to +glorify herself in the sight of her fellow-servants, and even of her +employers? Would there not have been the display of a splendid +departure--in a hansom--with voluble directions to the driver, for the +benefit of the footman? As it was, Jane Harding acted suddenly, +precipitately, under the stress of some powerful emotion. I cannot help +believing that her departure from this house had some connection, +however remote, with Lady Dyke's disappearance." + +"Good heavens, Claude, you never told me this before." + +"True, but when we last met I had not the pleasure of Miss Marie le +Marchant's acquaintance. I wish to goodness I had rummaged her boxes +before she carried them off." + +"And I sincerely echo your wish," said Sir Charles testily. "It always +seems, somehow, that I am to blame." + +"You must not take that view. I really wonder, Dyke, that you have not +closed up your town house and gone off to Scotland for the fag-end of +the shooting season. You won't hunt, I know, but a quiet life on the +moors would bring you right away from associations which must have +bitter memories for you." + +"I would have done so, but I cannot tear myself away while there is the +slightest chance of the mystery attending my wife's fate being +unravelled. I feel that I must remain here near you. You are the only +man who can solve the riddle, if it ever be solved. By the way, what of +Raleigh Mansions?" + +The baronet obviously nerved himself to ask the question. The reason was +patent. His wife's inexplicable visit to that locality was in some way +connected with her fate, and the common-sense view was that some +intrigue lay hidden behind the impenetrable wall of ignorance that +shrouded her final movements. + +Bruce hesitated for a moment. Was there any need to bring Mrs. Hillmer's +name into the business? At any rate, he could fully answer Sir Charles +without mentioning her at this juncture. + +"The only person in Raleigh Mansions who interests me just now is one +who, to use a convenient bull, is not there." + +"Yes?" + +"This person occupies a flat in No. 12, his name is Sydney H. Corbett, +and he left his residence for the Riviera two days after your wife was +lost." + +"Now, who on earth can _he_ be? I am as sure as a man may be of anything +that no one of that name was in the remotest way connected with either +my wife or myself for the last--let me see--six years, at any rate." + +"Possibly. But you cannot say that Lady Dyke may not have met him +previously?" + +The baronet winced at the allusion as though a whip had struck him. "For +heaven's sake, Claude," he cried, "do not harbor suspicions against her. +I cannot bear it. I tell you my whole soul revolts at the idea. I would +rather be suspected of having killed her myself than listen to a word +whispered against her good name." + +"I sympathize with you, but you must not jump at me in that fashion. One +hypothesis is as wildly impossible as the other. I did not say that Lady +Dyke went to Raleigh Mansions on account of some present or bygone +transgression of her own. I would as soon think of my mother in such a +connection. But a pure, good woman will often do on behalf of others +what she will not do for herself. Really, Dyke, you must not be unjust +to me, especially when you force me to tell you what may prove to be +mere theories." + +"Others? What others?" + +"I cannot say. I wish I could. If I once lay hold of the reason that +brought Lady Dyke to Raleigh Mansions, I will, within twenty-four hours, +tell you who murdered her. Of that I am as certain as that the sun will +rise to-morrow." + +And the barrister poked the fire viciously to give vent to the annoyance +that his friend's outburst had provoked. + +"Pardon me, Bruce. Do not forget how I have suffered--what I am +suffering--and try to bear with me. I never valued my wife while she +lived. It is only now that I feel the extent of my loss. If my own life +would only restore her to me for an instant I would cheerfully give it." + +If ever man meant his words this man did. His agitation moved the kindly +hearted barrister to rise and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. + +"I am sorry, Dyke," he said, "that the conversation has taken this turn. +These speculative guesses at potential clues distress you. If you took +my advice, you would not worry about events until at least something +tangible turns up." + +"Perhaps it is best so," murmured the other. "In any event, it is of +little consequence. I cannot live long." + +"Oh, nonsense. You are good for another fifty years. Come, shake off +this absurd depression. You can do no good by it. I wish now I had taken +you with me to Monte Carlo. The fresh air would have braced you up while +I hunted for Corbett." + +"Did you find him?" + +"No, but I dropped in for an adventure that would cheer the soul of any +depressed author searching vainly for an idea for a short story." + +"What was it?" + +Claude, who possessed no mean skill as a _raconteur_, gave him the +history of the Casino incident, and the thrilling _denouement_ so +interested the baronet that he lit another cigar. + +"Did you ascertain the names of the parties?" he said. + +"Oh yes. You will respect their identity, as the sensational side of the +affair had better now be buried in oblivion, though, of course, all the +world knows about the way we scooped the bank. The lady is a daughter of +Sir William Browne, a worthy knight from Warwickshire, and her rather +rapid swain is a youngster named Mensmore." + +"Mensmore!" shouted the baronet. "A youngster, you say?" and Sir Charles +bounced upright in his excitement. + +"Why, yes, a man of twenty-five. No more than twenty-eight, I can swear. +Do you know him?" + +"Albert Mensmore?" + +"That's the man beyond doubt." + +Dyke hastily poured out some whiskey and water and swallowed it. Then he +spoke, with a faint smile: "You didn't know, Bruce," he said, "that you +vividly described the attempted self-murder of a man I know intimately." + +"What an extraordinary thing! Yet I never remember hearing you mention +his name." + +"Probably not. I have hardly seen him since my marriage. We were +schoolboys together, though I was so much his senior that we did not +chum together until later, when we met a good deal on the turf. Then he +went off, roughing it in the States. It must be he. It is just one of +his pranks. And he is going to marry, eh? Is she a nice girl?" + +The baronet was thoroughly excited. He talked fast, and helped himself +liberally to stimulants. + +"Yes, unusually so. But I cannot help marvelling at this coincidence. It +has upset you." + +"Not a bit. I was interested in your yarn, and naturally I was +unprepared for the startling fact that an old friend of mine filled the +chief part. What a fellow you are, Claude, for always turning up at the +right time. I have never been in a tight place personally, but if I were +I suppose you would come along and show me the way out. Sit down again +and give me all the details. I am full of curiosity." + +Bruce had never before seen Sir Charles in such a hysterical mood. The +anguish of the past three months had changed the careless, jovial +baronet into a fretful, wayward being, who had lost control of his +emotions. Undoubtedly he required some powerful tonic. The barrister +resolved to see more of him in the future, and not to cease urging him +until he had started on a long sea voyage, or taken up some hobby that +would keep his mind from brooding upon the everlasting topic of his +wife's strange death. + +Dyke's fitful disposition manifested itself later. After he had listened +with keen attention to all that Bruce had told him concerning Mensmore +and Phyllis Browne, he suddenly swerved back to the one engrossing +thought. + +"What are you going to do about Corbett?" he asked. + +"Find him." + +"But how?" + +"People are always tied to a centre by a string, and no matter how long +the string may be, it contracts sooner or later. Corbett will turn up at +Raleigh Mansions, and before very many weeks have passed, if I mistake +not." + +"And then?" + +"Then he will have to answer me a few pertinent questions." + +"But suppose he knows nothing whatever about the business?" + +"In that case I must confess the clue is more tangled than ever." + +"It would be curious if Corbett and Jane Harding were in any way +associated." + +"If they were, it would take much to convince me that one or both could +not supply at least some important information bearing on my--on our +quest. If Mr. White even knew as much as I do about them he would arrest +them at sight." + +"Oh, he's a thick-headed chap, is White. By the way, that reminds me. He +got hold of the maid, it seems, before she had bolted, and made her give +him some of my wife's clothes. By that means he established some sort of +a theory about--" + +"About a matter on which we differ," put in Bruce quietly. "Let us talk +of something else." + +The other moved restlessly in his chair, but yielded. For the remainder +of the evening they discussed questions irrelevant to the course of this +narrative. + +It was late when they separated, but Bruce found Smith sitting up for +him at home. + +That faithful servitor bustled about, stirring the fire and turning up +the lights. Finally he nervously addressed his master: + +"Pardon me, sir, but there was a policeman here asking about you +to-night, sir." + +"A policeman!" + +"Well, sir, a detective--Mr. White, of Scotland Yard. I knew him, sir, +though he did not think it. He came about ten o'clock, and asked where +you were." + +"Did you tell him?" + +"Well, sir," and Smith shifted from one foot to the other, "I thought it +best to let him know the truth, sir." + +"Good gracious, Smith, he is not going to handcuff me. You did quite +right. What did he say?" + +"Nothing, sir; except that he would call again. He wouldn't leave his +name, but I know'd him all right." + +"Thank you. Good-night. It was unnecessary that you should have remained +up. But I am obliged to you all the same." + +The barrister laughed as he went to his room. "Really," he said to +himself, still highly amused, "White will cap all his previous feats by +trying to arrest me. I suspect he has thought of it for a long time." + +And Mr. White _had_ thought of it. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +WHO CORBETT WAS + + +"Inexorable Fate!" is a favorite phrase with the makers of books; but +Fate, being feminine according to the best authorities, is also somewhat +fickle in disposition. Not only is she not invariably inexorable, but at +times she delights to play with her poor subjects, to dazzle them with +surprise, as it were, to stupefy them with the sense of their sheer +inability to foresee or understand her vagaries. + +It was Bruce's turn to receive the sharpest lesson in this respect that +he ever remembered. + +At breakfast the next morning he selected from a packet of unimportant +letters one which required immediate attention. The financiers to whom +he had written in conformity with his implied promise to Mr. Dodge had +replied favorably with reference to the reconstruction of the Springbok +Mine. + +They informed Bruce confidentially that a thoroughly reliable man in +Johannesburg, to whom they had cabled, reported very strongly in favor +of the property. They would await his written statement before finally +committing themselves. Meanwhile, if Messrs. Dodge, Son & Co. (Limited) +were anxious to get the business advanced a stage, there was no reason +why he (Bruce) should not assure them that, subject to the first +satisfactory report being confirmed, his clients would underwrite the +shares. The whole thing would thus go through in about three weeks. As +for Bruce himself, they proposed to give him a commission of five per +cent in fully paid shares for the introduction. + +"Well, I never!" he laughed. "Now who would have thought such a thing +possible? Why, if that rascal Dodge is right and this company is really +a sound undertaking, my share of the deal will be L10,000. It seems +wildly incredible, yet my friends know what they are writing about as a +rule." + +An hour later he was in the city. + +A smart brougham stood in front of the now thoroughly renovated offices +of Dodge, Son & Co. (Limited), and out of it, at the moment the +barrister detached himself from the chaos of Leadenhall Street, stepped +the head of the firm. + +He was making up the steps when Claude cried: + +"Hello, Mr. Dodge, how is the junior partner?" + +Dodge stopped, focussed Bruce with his sharp eyes, and smiled: + +"Oh, it is you, is it? The young 'un is all right, thanks. Are you +coming in?" + +"That was my intention." + +"Come along then. I was hoping I would see you one of these days." + +"Has business improved recently?" inquired Bruce, as they entered the +inner office. + +"Yes, somewhat; but money is very tight still. However, we generally +look for a spurt early in the New Year. Why do you ask?" + +"No valid reason. A mere hazard." + +"Was it because you saw me drive up in a carriage?" + +"Mr. Dodge, I never dreamt that self-consciousness was a failing of the +members of the Stock Exchange." + +"Then that _was_ the cause. I guessed it. I have been making inquiries +about you, Mr. Bruce, and there is no use in trying to fool you, not a +bit." + +"Have you another Springbok proposition on hand?" + +"No; bar chaffing. You were the man who ferreted out the truth about +that West Australian combination when everybody else had failed. And, +now I think of it, you made me talk a lot the last time you were here. +However, I am ready. Fire away! I will tell you the truth, the whole +truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me--" + +"Sh-s-sh! Do not perjure yourself for the sake of alliteration. Besides, +it is I who have come to talk this time." + +"About Springboks?" + +"Yes. The people I mentioned to you at my previous visit are prepared to +underwrite the shares, provided that their agent's report is as +favorable in its entirety as a telegraphic summary leads them to +believe." + +"Eh? That's good news! When will they be in a position to complete?" + +"As soon as they hear from South Africa by post. Say three weeks." + +"So long! But suppose I get an offer from some other quarter in the +meantime? I cannot keep the proposal open indefinitely." + +"I have not asked you to do so, Mr. Dodge. Let me see--three shillings +per share on, say, two hundred thousand shares is L30,000. It is a good +deal of money. If any one likes to hand you a cheque for that amount +without preliminary investigation, take it by all means." + +The notion tickled Dodge immensely. + +"All right, Mr. Bruce. When people of that sort turn up we don't sell +'em Springboks in the City. But there is no harm in you telling me your +clients' names." + +"Not in the least. They are the Anglo-African Finance Corporation." + +Mr. Dodge whistled. "By Jove, they're the best backing I could have. +This is a good turn, Mr. Bruce, and I shan't forget it. You see, we're a +young firm, and association with well-known houses is good for us in +every sense. I'm jolly glad now that Springboks are all right. It would +never have done for me to introduce them to a risky piece of business. I +am really much obliged to you. And now, how do we stand?" + +"Kindly explain." + +"How much 'com' do you want?" + +"Nothing." + +Mr. Dodge moved his chair backward several feet in sheer amazement. +"Nothing, my dear sir! Nonsense! It is a big affair. Shall we say one +per cent in cash, or two in shares. I am not very well off just now, +or--" + +"Pray don't trouble yourself. I have already secured my commission--five +per cent in fully paid shares." + +"But the people who put up the money don't pay for the privilege as a +rule." + +"That I know quite well. This case is different. I am not, nor ever have +been, a financial go-between." + +"Didn't you come to see me about the deal in the first instance?" + +It was Bruce's turn to hesitate. + +"Not exactly," he said. "I really wanted to know something about Mr. +Corbett, and the Springbok business arose out of it." + +"Ah, that chap Corbett. I have been thinking about him. I wonder who he +can be? Anyhow, I owe him my best wishes, as the mention of his name +has had such excellent results." + +"Well, that is all," said Bruce rising. + +"Yes, thanks. I must now see about raising the money to pay my own call. +I am interested in fifty thousand shares, you know." + +"Then you require some L7,500?" + +"Yes. But that will be easy when I can say that the Anglo-African +Finance people are with me. Besides, this morning--queer you should call +immediately afterwards--I have had some wholly unexpected news." + +"Indeed?" Mr. Dodge was in a talkative vein, and Bruce was in no hurry. + +"The very best!" went on Dodge gleefully. "You see, there is another man +in this affair with me. I thought he was as stony-broke as I am +myself--speaking confidentially, you know--when he suddenly writes to me +saying that he had won a pot of money at Monte Carlo and could spare me +L2,000. What's the matter? Beastly trying weather, isn't it? Try a nip +of brandy." + +For once in his life the self-possessed barrister had blanched at a +sudden revelation. But this was too much. He felt as though a meteorite +had fallen on his head. Nevertheless, he grappled with the situation. + +"Ill! No!" he cried. "How stupid of me. I have forgotten my morning +smoke. May I light a cigar?" + +"With pleasure. You know these. Try one." + +"You were saying--" + +"That's all. This young fellow, Mensmore his name is, got mixed up with +me over a Californian mine. I thought he had lots of coin, so when +Springboks came along he and I went shares in underwriting them. The +public didn't feed, so we were loaded. I tried all I knew to get him to +pay up, but he absolutely couldn't. And now at the very moment affairs +look promising he writes offering L2,000. More than that, he says, if +necessary, he can get the remainder of his half, L1750, from somebody. +Where is his letter?" + +Mr. Dodge looked on his table. "Oh, here it is. Addressed from 'Yacht +_White Heather_,' if you please. Quite swell, eh? Sir William Browne! +That's the covey. I think I will let Sir William have 'em. It's a good, +solid sort of name to have on the share register." + +"I would if I were you," said Bruce, hardly conscious of his +surroundings. + +"If _you_ think so, I will. By Jove, this has been a good morning for +me. Come and have lunch." + +"No, thanks. I have a lot to attend to. By the way, where did Mensmore +live?" + +"I don't know. His address was always at the Orleans Club." + +Somehow, Bruce reached the street and a hansom. As the vehicle rolled +off westward he crouched in a corner and tried to wrestle with the +problem that befogged his brain. + +Was Albert Mensmore Sydney H. Corbett? Was he Mrs. Hillmer's brother? +The "Bertie" she had spoken of meant Albert as well as a hypothetical +Herbert. Mensmore was an old schoolfellow of Sir Charles Dyke's. In all +probability he knew Lady Dyke as well. He lived in Raleigh Mansions +under an assumed name, and quitted his abode two days after the murder. + +Every circumstance pointed to the terrible assumption that at Mensmore's +hands the unfortunate lady met her death. And Bruce had sworn to avenge +her memory! + +He laughed with savage mirth as he reflected that he himself had helped +this man to escape the punishment of Providence, self-inflicted. It was, +indeed, pitifully amusing to think how the clever detective had used his +powers to befool himself. The very openness of the clue had helped to +conceal it the more effectually. Were it not for Dodge and his +Springboks he might have gone on indefinitely covering up the criminal's +tracks by his own friendly actions. The situation was maddening, +intolerable. Bruce wanted to seize the reins and flog the horse into a +mad gallop through the traffic as a relief to his feelings. + +Blissfully unconscious of the living volcano he carried within, the +cabby on the perch did not indulge in any such illegal antics. He +quietly drove along the Embankment and delivered his seething fare at +his Victoria-street chambers. + +Quite oblivious of commonplace affairs, the barrister threw a shilling +to the driver and darted out. + +The man gazed at his Majesty's image with the air of one who had never +before seen such a coin. It might have been a Greek obolus, so utter was +his blank astonishment. + +But Bruce was across the pavement, and cabby had to find words, else it +would be too late. + +"Here guv'nor," he yelled, "what the ballyhooley do you call this?" + +"What's the matter?" was the impatient query. + +"Matter!" The cabman looked towards the sky to see if the heavens were +falling. "Matter!" in a higher key, as a crowd began to gather. "I tykes +him from Leaden'all Street to Victoria. 'E gives me a bob, an' 'e arsks +me wot's the matter. I'd been on the ranks four bloomin' hours--" + +"Oh, there you are!" and Bruce threw him half-a-crown before he +disappeared up the steps. + +Mr. White was watching for Bruce's arrival. He wondered why the +barrister was so perturbed, and resolved to strike while the iron was +hot. So he, too, vanished into the interior. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A QUESTION OF PRINCIPLE + + +"If any one calls, I am out," cried Claude to his factotum, as he +crossed the entrance-hall of his well-appointed flat, and flung open the +door of his library. + +"The guv'nor's in a tantrum," observed Smith to his wife, and he settled +himself to renew the perusal of Grand National training reports. He had +just noticed the interesting fact that last year's winner had "jumped in +for the last mile" in a gallop given to a rank outsider, when the +electric bell upset his calculations. + +"My master is out," he said, as he opened the door to find Mr. White +standing on the mat. + +He was about to close the door again, but the detective planted his foot +against the jamb. + +"Your master is not out," he answered. "I saw him come in a minute +since. Tell him Mr. White wants to see him." + +Smith's dignity was superb. "My master may be hin," he cried, "but 'e +told me to say 'e was hout to callers." The aspirates supplied emphasis. + +"Tell him what I say at once," and Mr. White gave him his best +"accessory-after-the-crime" glance. + +"I don't see why I should," snarled Smith, but the squabble ended when +Bruce's voice was heard-- + +"Show him in, Smith, but admit nobody else." + +With an air of armed neutrality Smith ushered the representative of +Scotland Yard into the library. + +"You're not looking very well, sir," said White, his round eyes fixed on +Bruce with all their power. + +"Was it to ask about my health that you came?" + +"No, sir, not exactly. But I haven't seen you for quite a while, and as +we are both interested in the same matter I thought I would look you up +and compare notes." + +Bruce was annoyed by the interruption. He wanted to think, not to be +bothered by official theories. He looked hard at Mr. White, wondering +whether he should tell him all he knew and wash his own hands clear of +the investigation in future. But there was a second picture before his +eyes. He saw Phyllis Browne's face, not as it was that day at the Tir +aux Pigeons, but with the light of happiness in it, with the joyousness +of requited and undisturbed love, with the glow reflected from dancing +waves, and the tremulous smile of innocent pleasure. + +It was hard to believe that such a woman could place her heartfelt trust +in a man who was possibly a cold-blooded murderer. Such a combination +was unnatural and horrible. Already Bruce was beginning to doubt the +evidence of his analytical senses. + +Mr. White meanwhile flattered himself by the thought that the other was +trying to read his thoughts by looking at him fixedly. + +"I have been away from home," said Bruce at last. "I had occasion to go +to the South of France." + +"I thought so. I was sure of it. How do you manage always to get ahead +of us?" Mr. White was enthusiastic in his admiring divination. + +"You have heard about Sydney H. Corbett?" said the barrister, still +keeping that inscrutable, calculating gaze upon the policeman. + +"Yes. I am on his track. We may be slow, but we are sure in Scotland +Yard. May I ask what luck you have had, sir?" + +"In what respect?" + +"As if you didn't go to Monte Carlo to find Corbett yourself! Really, +Mr. Bruce, the scent is too hot this time. You might as well give a +'View halloa' if you have seen him." + +"Seen Sydney H. Corbett, you mean?" + +"That is the gentleman." + +For an instant Mensmore's future trembled in the balance. Bruce almost +framed the words which would have led to his immediate arrest at the +next port touched by the _White Heather_. But the memory of Phyllis +Browne, of her agony, of the fearful scandal that must fly through +Society on the Riviera, restrained him. There was no hurry. He must have +time to think. + +"I certainly went to Monte Carlo to discover the identity of that +interesting personage, but I came back, Mr. White, as wise as I went. +The only trace I found of him was an undelivered letter awaiting him at +the Hotel du Cercle." + +"A letter! Wasn't he there?" Mr. White's face, notwithstanding its +official decorum, betrayed its disappointment. This was an unlooked-for +check. + +"He had been there. Other letters came for him earlier, and he had +received them." + +"But the hotel people--" + +"Did not know him. In fact, there cannot be the slightest doubt that Mr. +Corbett concealed his identity at Monte Carlo under another name." + +"It doesn't matter much," growled the detective. "We will nab him all +the same, if he had fifty names." + +"Possibly. But it is wonderful how a man may be under your very nose, +and yet you may miss him." + +During the next few minutes neither man spoke. Bruce smiled cynically +at the thought that he was actually shielding Lady Alice's probable +slayer from the minions of the law. He marvelled at himself for his +irresolution. Nevertheless, he would wait. Mensmore could not escape him +now. Perhaps the business might be managed without the dramatic features +which would accompany an immediate arrest. And there were some things +that required explanation. If his Monte Carlo acquaintance really killed +Lady Dyke, then he was the strangest criminal whom Bruce had ever +encountered during the course of his varied career. + +The policeman misinterpreted his expression. + +"You can't laugh at us this time, Mr. Bruce," he cried. "Scotland Yard +and yourself evolved the same theory, eh? And we can't fly off to the +South of France as readily as you." + +"Your skill is profound, no doubt. Indeed, I wonder at it, considering +the mysterious way in which the missing man left his address at the +post-office." + +The other reddened. "That was simple enough, I know; but we were on his +track before that." + +"By watching me when I visited his sister." + +"You saw me outside the Jollity Theatre, then?" + +"Of course. What did you expect?" + +Mr. White recovered his placidity. "There's no use quarrelling about +it," he laughed. "I did get that wrinkle from you. But how on earth were +we to know what to do, when there were seventy-one flats occupied by +respectable people, and one closed for months, the caretaker told us." + +"I hope you have ceased your surveillance so far as I am concerned." + +"Honor bright, sir. I won't do it again. Besides, we must lay hands on +Corbett sooner or later." + +"What steps are you taking?" + +"The Monte Carlo police are making inquiries. They have his description. +It has also gone to America." + +"Why America?" + +"Because he spent some time there. He only returned from the States +early last year. His sister has not seen him for years, and a rare old +row they had when he turned up. He had not much money, so she helped +him, and he settled down for a time in the same mansions as herself." + +"Who told you all this?" + +"Mrs. Hillmer, and a precious lot of trouble she gave me. She is a +clever woman that." + +"It was rather too bad to pester her about it, poor lady." + +"I only followed your lead, sir." + +This was so true that Claude changed the conversation. + +"What sort of man is Corbett? Have you his description?" + +"Yes. Here it is." Mr. White produced a copy of the _Police Gazette_, a +publication never seen by the public, but of a large circulation among +the police of the United Kingdom. The details were fairly accurate as to +Mensmore's personal appearance, but there was no photograph. Oddly +enough, Bruce was pleased on noting this serious deficiency. + +"You did not secure his picture?" + +"No. Mrs. Hillmer declared that she had not a single photograph of her +brother in her possession." + +"Did she--tell you his real name?" the barrister had almost said, but he +deflected the question. "Did she give you any hint as to a possible +cause for this apparently unnecessary crime?" + +"Not a word." + +"Then you did not mention Lady Dyke to her?" + +"No. Sir Charles has always implored me to keep his wife's name out of +my inquiries until it became absolutely impossible to conceal it in view +of a public prosecution. He wants to know definitely when that time +comes." + +"Why?" + +The detective did not reply for a moment. When he spoke he leaned +forward and subdued his voice. "I am as sure as I am sitting here, sir, +that Sir Charles will not live if any disgrace should come to be +attached to his wife's memory." + +"Do you mean that he will kill himself?" + +"I do. He has changed a great deal since this affair happened. He is not +the same man. He appears to be always mooning about her. And people say +that they were not so devoted to one another when she was alive." + +Again did the barrister switch off their talk from an unpleasant topic. + +"This description of Corbett is not much use," he said. "It applies to +every athletic young Englishman of good physique and gentlemanly +appearance." + +"Quite true. I don't depend on that for his arrest, but it will be +valuable for identification. 'Blue eyes, light brown hair, fresh, clear +complexion, well-modelled nose and chin.' Some of these things can be +changed by tricks, but not all. For instance, there would be no use in +smoking a man with black eyes and irregular features." + +"'Smoking' him?" + +"Oh, that's our way of putting it. Following him, it means." + +"Suppose the French police don't succeed in catching him?" + +"We will get him at Raleigh Mansions. He is sure to think that Lady +Dyke's fate has never been determined, and he will return when the +inquiry has blown over, to all appearance." + +"You have quite made up your mind, then, that Sydney H. Corbett is the +murderer?" + +"It looks uncommonly like it. At any rate, he knows something about it. +If not, why did he bolt to France two days after the crime? Why has he +concealed his identity? Why does he take pains to receive his +correspondence in the manner he has adopted? And, by Jove! suppose he +isn't in Monte Carlo at all, but in London all the time!" + +The inspector glowed with his sudden inspiration, but Bruce kept him to +the lower level of realities. + +"Corbett is, or was, in Monte Carlo. Of that you may be sure. He, and +none other, got the letters sent to the Hotel du Cercle. I cannot for +the life of me imagine why he did not take the last one. But let us look +at what we know. Lady Dyke, we will say, went to Corbett's chambers, +secretly and of her own accord. That may be taken as fairly established. +Thence there is a blank in our intelligence until she appears as a +hardly recognizable corpse, stuffed by hands beneath an old drain-pipe +in the Thames at Putney. How do you fill up that gap, Mr. White?" + +"Simply enough. Corbett, or some other person, persuaded her to +voluntarily accompany him to Putney. She was killed there, and not in +London. It would be almost a matter of impossibility for any man to have +conveyed her lifeless body from Raleigh Mansions to Putney without +attracting some notice. One man could _not_ do it. Several might, but it +is madness to imagine that a number of people would join together for +the purpose of killing this poor lady." + +"The seemingly impossible is often accomplished." + +"Do you really believe, then, that she met her death in London?" + +"I have quite an open mind on the question." + +"You forget that she had resolved early that day to visit her sister at +Richmond, and Putney is on the direct road. What more reasonable than to +assume--" + +"Beware of assumptions! You are assuming all the time that Corbett was a +principal in her murder." + +"Very well, Mr. Bruce. Then I ask you straight out if you don't agree +with me?" + +"I do not." + +This declaration astounded the barrister himself. Often the mere +utterance of one's thoughts is a surprise. Speech seems to stiffen the +wavering outlines of reflection, and the new creation may differ +essentially from its embryo. It was so with Bruce in this instance. + +Ever since Mr. White's arrival had aroused him from the positive stupor +caused by the stock-broker's unwitting revelation, Claude Bruce had been +slowly but definitely deciding that Mensmore did not kill Lady Dyke. He +had seen him, unprepared, facing death as preferable to dishonor. At +such moments a man's soul is laid bare. With the shadow of a crime upon +his conscience Mensmore's actions could not have been so genuine and +straightforward as they undoubtedly were. + +Mensmore, of course, might in some way be bound up with the mystery +surrounding Lady Dyke's movements. His very utterance in Bruce's room +at the Hotel du Cercle implied as much. That was another matter. It +would receive his (Bruce's) most earnest attention. But the major +hypothesis, so quickly jumped at by the police, needed much more +substantiation than it had yet obtained. + +That it was plausible was demonstrated by the barrister's readiness to +adopt it at the outset. Even now that his impulse to fasten the crime on +Mensmore had weakened he wondered at his eagerness to defend him. + +The detective was even more surprised. + +"I don't see how you can take that view," he cried. "Corbett's behavior +is, to say the least, unaccountable. If he is an innocent man, then he +must be a foolish one. Besides, why should he necessarily be innocent? +This is the first gleam of light we have had in a very dark business, +and I mean to follow it up." + +The vindictive emphasis of his tone showed that the detective was +annoyed at the other's impassive attitude. He even went so far as to +dimly evolve a theory that the barrister wished to throw him off +Corbett's trail on account of his sympathy for Mrs. Hillmer, but Claude +rapidly dispelled this notion. + +"You are here, I suppose, to ask my advice in pursuance of our +understanding that we are working together in the matter, as it were?" +he said. + +"Well, something of the kind, sir." + +"Then I recommend that we see the inside of that closed flat in Raleigh +Mansions at the earliest moment." + +"Do you mean by a search warrant?" + +"Certainly not. Do you want the whole neighborhood to know of it? You +have probably heard of locks being picked before to-day. You and I, and +none other, must have a quiet look around the place without anyone +being the wiser." + +Mr. White hesitated, but the prospect was attractive. "I think I can +manage it," he said, smiling reflectively. "Will six this evening suit?" + +"Admirably." + +"Then I will call for you." + +After a parting glance at Smith, who returned it, nose in air, the +inspector ran down the stairs, murmuring, "Blest if I can understand Mr. +Bruce. But this is a good move. We may learn something." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +NO 12 RALEIGH MANSIONS + + +When the door of Corbett's or Mensmore's flat swung open before the +skilful application of a skeleton key, a gust of cold air swept from the +interior blackness, and whirled an accumulation of dust down the stairs. + +It is curious how a disused house seems to bottle up, as it were, an +atmospheric accumulation which always seeks to escape at the first +available moment. Emptiness is more than a mere word; it has life and +the power of growth. A residence closed for a week is less depressing +than if it has not been inhabited for a month. If the period of neglect +be lengthened into a year, the sense of dreariness is magnified +immeasurably. + +In this instance, the mysterious abode might have been the abiding-place +of disembodied spirits, so cold was its aspect, so uninviting the dim +vista that sprung into uncertain vision under the flickering rays of a +wax vesta struck by the detectives. + +But neither the policeman nor his companion was a nervous subject. + +They entered at once, closed the door by its latch, and, aided by other +matches, found the switch of the electric light. + +In this brighter radiance the indefinable vanished. The flat became a +cosy, fairly well appointed bachelor's "diggings," neglected and +untidy, yet not without a semblance of comfort, which only needed the +presence of a sturdy housemaid and a fire to be converted into the +ordinary chambers with which the locality abounds. + +Their first care was to draw down all the blinds, the neglect of which +housewifely proceeding argued the careless departure of a mere male when +the place was vacated. + +A rapid preliminary survey followed, and drew from Bruce the remark: + +"Furnished by a woman, but occupied by a man." + +Mr. White agreed, but he didn't know why, so he put a tentative question +on the point. + +"Don't you see," said Bruce, "that the carpets match the upholstery of +the furniture, that the beds have valances, that the spare bedroom for a +guest is even more elaborate than that used by the tenant, that care has +been taken in fitting up the kitchen, and taste displayed in the +selection of pieces of bric-a-brac? Only a woman attends to these +things. On the other hand, a card tray has been used as a receptacle for +a cigar ash, the pictures--no woman ever buys a picture--have been +picked up promiscuously from shops where they sell sporting prints, and +the sides of the mantelpieces are chipped by having feet propped against +them. There are plenty of other signs, but these suffice." + +Thenceforth the two men devoted themselves to their task, each after his +kind. + +The representative of Scotland Yard hunted for documents, photographs, +torn envelopes; he looked at the covers of books to see if they were +inscribed; he opened every drawer, ransacked every corner, peered into +the interior of jars, pots, and ovens; appraised the value of furniture, +noted its age, and was specially zealous in studying the appearance of +the only bedroom which had been occupied so far as he could judge. + +Bruce, having given a casual glance around, entered the sitting-room, +selected the most comfortable chair, and proceeded to envelope himself +in smoke. + +He had not spent two minutes in Mensmore's flat before he made a +striking discovery. + +The dwelling consisted of a central passage, dividing two equal portions +from the other. That on the right contained a drawing-room and a large +bedroom, with dressing-room attached. On the left were another bedroom, +a dining-room, a kitchen, and a store-room. At the end of the passage, +which terminated in the transverse corridor, were the bathroom, a +pantry, and a small room, empty now, but apparently designed for a +servant's bedroom. + +The furniture, as has been stated, was good in quality and sufficient +for its purposes. But the fact which immediately impressed this skilled +observer was that the arrangement of the sitting-room differed +essentially from the other details of the flat. + +The same care had not been taken in the disposition of the articles. +They had been dumped down anyhow, without taste or regard for suitable +position. The carpet had not been bought for this special apartment like +the carpets elsewhere. A handsome ebony cabinet stood in the wrong +place. The blue china ornaments obviously intended to fill its shelves +were littered about the mantelpiece or on small tables, while the +Satsuma ware meant for the over-mantel was stiffly disposed on the +cabinet. + +Small matters these, but Bruce thought them more fruitful of accurate +theory than the detective's hunt for a written history of the crime! + +So, as he smoked, he mused and examined. + +"The drawing-room was the last place to be furnished," he thought. "The +usual course. It remained empty for some time probably. The rest of the +flat was arranged by a woman--Mrs. Hillmer in all likelihood--before the +arrival of her brother. Then he came and tackled the vacant room. The +history of the place is as plain as though I were present. More than +that, a woman--Mrs. Hillmer again, let us say--fixed upon these latter +purchases, but without measurements. She did not personally see to their +adaptability, and she certainly did not supervise their final +arrangement. Now, why was that? Again, these things are more worn than +those in the other rooms. Were they bought second-hand? If so, why? A +woman thinks most of her drawing-room. It is the last place in which she +would economize." + +Mr. White entered, anxious and puzzled. + +"Found anything?" inquired Claude, without looking at him. + +"Not a rag, not a piece of old newspaper with a date on it. A lot of +papers were burned in the kitchen grate, but from the remnants I judge +that they were mostly bills." + +"The place has been systematically cleared, eh?" + +"It looks like it." + +"Going to hunt here?" + +"Yes. You don't seem to take much interest in the premises, Mr. Bruce, +though you persuaded me to do a bit of house-breaking in order to get +here." + +"I find the quietude good for thought, Mr. White. Be good enough not to +make more noise than is absolutely necessary." + +The other sniffed. He was disappointed. He hoped for something tangible +from this visit, and the outlook was far from promising. + +"This room appears to have been lived in a good deal," he growled. + +"That is one way of looking at it." + +"Is there any other way?" His voice snapped out the question as if he +held the barrister personally responsible for his failure to gain a +clue. + +"No, Mr. White, I should have guessed your point of view exactly." + +"My point of view, indeed! Do you want me to draw up another chair and +light a pipe? Should we be enlightened by tobacco smoke?" + +"I cannot trust your tobacco. Try a cigar." + +The detective angrily thumped a Chesterfield lounge to see if it +betrayed aught suspicious. + +At that instant Bruce's glance rested on the fireplace. The grate +contained the ashes of a fire,--a fire not long lighted. This, combined +with the undrawn blinds, argued a departure early in the morning. + +"He went to Monte Carlo by the day Channel service," mused Bruce. "He +may have departed a few hours after Lady Dyke's death, as Mrs. Hillmer +was not certain as to the exact date." + +Somehow the few cinders attracted him. They had, perchance, witnessed a +tragedy. + +Suddenly he stopped smoking. He was so startled by something he had seen +that the policeman must have noticed his agitation were not the +detective at that instant intently screwing his eyes to peer behind the +back of the elaborate cabinet. + +On the hearth was a handsome Venetian fender. Into each end was +loosely socketed a beautifully moulded piece of ironwork to hold the +fire-irons. That on the left was whole, but from that on the right a +small spike had been broken off. + +By comparison with its fellow the missing portion was identical with the +bit of iron found imbedded in the skull of the murdered woman. Of this +damning fact Bruce had no manner of doubt, though the incriminatory +article itself was then locked in a drawer in his own residence. + +He did not move. He sat as one transfixed. + +What a weapon for such a deed! Was ever more outlandish instrument used +with murderous intent? The entire bracket could easily be detached from +the fender, and would, no doubt, inflict a terrible blow. But why seize +this clumsy device when it actually supported a heavy brass poker? + +The thing savored of madness, of the wild vagary of a homicidal maniac. +It was incomprehensible, strange beyond belief. + +Yet as Bruce pictured the final scene in that tragedy, as he saw the +ill-fated lady stagger helplessly to the ground before a treacherous and +crushing stroke, a fierce light leaped into his face, and his lips set +tight with unflinching purpose. + +Had Mensmore been within reach at that moment he would assuredly have +been lodged in a felon's cell forthwith. No excuse, no palliation, would +be accepted. The man who could so foully slay a gentle, kindly, +high-minded woman deserved the utmost rigor of the law, no matter what +the circumstances that led to the commission of the crime. + +It was not often that Bruce allowed impulse to master reason so utterly. + +In strange altruistic mood he asked himself why he did not spring from +his chair, and, tearing the bracket from its supports, exhibit it to his +fellow-worker, while he gave, in a few passionate sentences, the +information that would set the French police to scour the Mediterranean +littoral until they found the _White Heather_. Of what matter to him was +the suffering of a sister or sweetheart? Did the man who killed Lady +Dyke reck of these things? Yes, he would do it-- + +But a cry of triumph from the detective arrested the fateful words even +as they trembled on his lips. "Here's a find!" was the shout. "Thinking +is all very well, Mr. Bruce, but hard work is better. What do you make +of that?" + +"That" was a letter, which, in the manner known to many a puzzled +householder, had slipped down behind a drawer in the cabinet, to be +crushed against the wardrobe at the back, and lie there forgotten and +unnoticed. + +Even in his perturbed state the barrister could not help glancing at the +crumpled document, first noting the date, October 15th of the year just +closed, with the superscription, "Mountain Butts, Wyoming." There was no +envelope. + +It was addressed to "Dear Bertie," and ran as follows: + + "Your welcome note and its draft for fifty dollars came to hand + last week. My sisters and I can never forget your generosity. + We know you are hard up, and that you can ill spare these + frequent gifts, or loans, as you are pleased to call them. You + and I have been in many a tight place, old chap, and I never + knew you to fail either with hand or heart. And when we drifted + into this ranch, on my advice, and nearly starved to death, it + was you who were bold enough to cut yourself adrift so that + you might make something to keep the pot boiling. + + "But the tide is turning. You know my failing; this time I will + try not to be too sanguine. There have been big gold + discoveries in this country. It is now firmly believed that all + our land is auriferous, and the scoundrel who sold us this + beggarly ranch has tried to upset our title. Thanks to your + foresight, he was knocked out at the first round. So I may soon + have big news for you. By Jove, won't it be a change if we both + become rich! And won't we all have a time in Paris! However, I + must not promise too much. I have been taught caution by + repeated failures. Write by return, and say if this reaches you + all right. + + "Your faithful friend, + "SYDNEY H. CORBETT." + +"What do you think of that?" cried the detective, when Bruce had slowly +mastered the contents of the letter. + +"Think! I am too dazed to think." + +"We can now learn all about him from America." + +"About whom?" + +"About Corbett, of course." + +"Then did Corbett travel by the same mail as this letter in order to +murder Lady Dyke? It is dated October 15th, and she was killed November +6th. It takes twelve days, at the quickest, for a letter to come here +from Wyoming. And Corbett, the writer of it, not the receiver, must have +travelled in the same steamer, or its immediate successor." + +Mr. White's face fell, but he stuck to his point: + +"Anyhow, Corbett was here about that time. I have seen the secretary to +the company that owns these flats. Corbett took the rooms for six months +from September first. When asked for references he gave his sister's +name, and as she banks with the National--and she has always paid her +rent for five years--it was good enough. Still, I must confess that +Corbett could hardly be in Wyoming in October if he lived here in +September and in November." + +The barrister answered between his set teeth: "Yes, it is rather +puzzling." + +"Perhaps the letter was left there as a plant." + +"An elaborate one. It must have been conceived a month before the +murder." + +"But suppose it never came from Wyoming. We have no proof that it was +written in America." + +"We have proof of nothing at present." + +"Well, Mr. Bruce, have you a theory? This is the place where you ought +to shine, you know." + +"I have no theory. I must think for hours, for days, before I see my way +clear." + +"Clear to what, sir." + +"To telling you how, when, and where to arrest the murderer of Lady +Dyke." + +"So this find of mine is of great importance?" + +"Undoubtedly. I remember its contents sufficiently, but you will let me +see it again if necessary?" + +"With pleasure, sir. And that reminds me. You never returned that small +bit of iron to me. You recollect I lent it to you some time since." + +"Perfectly. Come with me. I will model it in wax and give it to you." + +"All right, sir; but as we are here I may as well continue my search. I +may drop on something else of value." + +Bruce resumed his seat, and did not stir until the detective had +completely rummaged the cabinet. The reading of that queer epistle from +Corbett to "Bertie"--from the real Simon Pure to the sham one--from one +man to his double--had stopped him at the very threshold of disclosure. + +The document impressed him as being genuine. If so, who on earth was +Corbett, and why had Mensmore taken his name, if that was the solution +of the tangle? + +Whatever the explanation, he would not jump to a conclusion. The web had +closed too securely round Mensmore to allow of escape. Hence, Bruce +could bide his time. Another week might solve many elements in the case +now indistinct and nebulous. He would wait. + +The detective finally satisfied himself there was nothing else in the +cabinet. He approached the fireplace, peered into every vase on the +over-mantel, picked with his penknife at the back of the frame to feel +for other letters, and in doing so several times kicked the fender. + +The barrister vaguely wondered whether the man of method would note the +missing portion of the iron "dog." + +"Surely," he thought, "he will see it now," as Mr. White bent to examine +the ashes, and actually took the poker from the very support itself in +order to rake among the cinders. + +The other even scrutinized the fire-irons, but the too obvious fact +that, so to speak, stared him in the face, escaped notice. He was quite +wrapped up in his theory that Lady Dyke had been killed at Putney, and +not in Sloane Square. + +At last he quitted the room, and walked off to the small apartments at +the end of the main corridor. + +Instantly Bruce sprang forward, fell on his knees, and intently examined +the iron rest with a strong lens. It bore no unusual signs in the +locality of the break. Taking some wax from his pocket, he took a +slight impression of the fracture. + +When Mr. White returned, he found the barrister sitting in his chair, +still smoking, and with set face and fixed eyes. + +Soon afterwards they quitted the flat, carefully leaving all things as +they found them. They said little on their way to Victoria Street, for +Bruce was trying to explain Mensmore's attitude at Monte Carlo, and the +detective was considering the best use to which he could put that +all-important letter. + +Besides, Mr. White attributed his companion's silence to annoyance. Had +not he, White, laid hands on the only direct piece of evidence yet +discovered as to Corbett's identity, and this in defiance of Bruce's +spoken philosophy? He could afford to be generous and not to worry his +amateur colleague with questions. + +Thus they reached the barrister's chambers. Bruce asked the other to sit +down for a moment while he obtained a model of the small lump of iron. +He took it into his bedroom, fitted in into the wax impression obtained +at Raleigh Mansions, and noted that the two coincided perfectly. + +He handed the bit of iron to White without comment. + +The latter said: "It had better remain in my keeping now, sir, but if +you want to see it again, of course I will be glad--" + +"I shall never want it again," said Bruce, and his voice was harsh and +cold, for he had seldom experienced such a strain as the last hours had +given him. "It is an accursed thing. It has caused one death already, +and may cause others." + +"I sincerely hope it will cause a man to be hanged," cried the +detective, "for this affair is the warmest I have ever tackled. +However, I'll get him, as sure as his name's Corbett, if he has forty +aliases and as many addresses." + +Smith let Mr. White out. The latter, halting for a moment at the door, +said quietly, "Is your name Corbett?" + +"No, it ain't, any more than yours is Black. See?" + +Each man thought he had had his joke, so they were better friends +thenceforth, but Mr. White was thoughtful as he passed into the street. + +"This is a funny business," he communed. "There isn't enough evidence +against Corbett to hang a cat, yet I _think_ he's the man. And Bruce is +a queer chap. Was he cut up about me finding the letter, or has he got +some notion in his head. He's as close as an oyster. I wonder if he +_did_ dine at Hampstead on the evening of the murder, as he said at the +inquest? I must inquire into it." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +MRS. HILLMER HESITATES + + +"I wonder if I shall have such exciting times to-day as I had +yesterday," said Bruce to himself, as he unfolded his _Times_ next +morning at breakfast. + +Affairs had so jumbled themselves together in his brain the previous +evening that he had abandoned all effort to elucidate them. He retired +to rest earlier than usual, to sleep soundly, save for a vivid dream in +which he was being tried for his life, the chief witnesses against him +being Mrs. Hillmer, Phyllis Browne, and Jane Harding, the latter varying +her evidence by entertaining the Court with a song and dance. + +The weather, too, had improved. It was clear, frosty, and sunlit--one of +those delightful days of winter that serve as cheerful remembrances +during periods of seemingly interminable fog overhead and slush beneath. + +During a quiet meal he read the news, and, with the invaluable morning +smoke, settled himself cosily into an armchair to consider procedure. + +In the first place he carefully weighed those utterances of Mensmore at +Monte Carlo, which he could recall, and which seemed by the light of +later knowledge, to bear upon the case. + +Mensmore had alluded to "family troubles," to "worries," and +"anxieties," that practically drove him from England. + +Some of these, no doubt, referred to the Springbok speculation. Others, +again, might have meant Mrs. Hillmer or some other presently unknown +relative. But in Mensmore's manner there was nothing that savored of a +greater secrecy than the natural reticence of a gentleman in discussing +domestic affairs with a stranger. + +This man had practically been snatched from death. At such a moment it +was inconceivable that he could cloak the remorse of a murderer by the +simulation of more honorable motives, in themselves sufficiently +distressing to cause him deliberately to choose suicide as the best way +of ending his difficulties. + +The policeman had summarized the testimony against Corbett as +insufficient to curtail the remarkable powers of endurance of a cat. But +to Bruce the case against Mensmore, alias Corbett, stood in clearer +perspective. Now that he calmly reasoned the matter he felt that the +balance of probabilities swung away from the hypothesis that Mensmore +was the actual slayer of Lady Dyke, and towards the theory that he was +in some way bound up with her death, whether knowingly or unknowingly it +was at present impossible to say. + +The new terror to Bruce was Mr. White. + +"Why, if that animated truncheon knew what I know of this business he +would arrest Mensmore forthwith. If he did, what would result? A +scandal, a thorough exposure, possibly the ruin of Mensmore's +love-making if he be an innocent man. That must be stopped. But how, +without forewarning Mensmore himself?--and he may be guilty. Chance may +favor White, as it favored me, in disclosing the identity of the missing +Corbett. And what of the _real_ Corbett? What on earth has _he_ got to +do with it, and why has Mensmore taken his name? If ever I get to the +bottom of this business I may well congratulate myself. The sole result +of all my labor thus far may be summed up in a sentence--I have not yet +come face to face with the man whom I can honestly suspect as Lady +Dyke's murderer. Not much, my boy!" + +Claude uttered the last sentence aloud, startling Smith, who was +clearing the table. + +"Beg pardon, sir," cried Smith. + +"Oh, nothing. I was only expressing an opinion." + +"I thought, perhaps, sir, you was thinkin' of Mr. White." + +"What of him?" + +"Your remark, sir, hexactly hexpresses my hopinion of 'im." + +Smith was not a badly educated man, but the least excitement produced an +appalling derangement of the letter "h" in his vocabulary. + +"Mr. White is a sharp fellow in his own way, Smith." + +"Maybe, but why should 'e come pokin' round 'ere pryin' into your little +affairs-deecur?" + +"My what?" + +"Sorry, sir, but that's what a French maid I once knew called 'em. +Flirtations, sir. Mashes." + +"Smith, have you been drinking?" + +"Me, sir?" + +"Well, explain yourself. I never flirted with a woman in my life." + +"That's what I told 'im, sir. 'My master's a regular saint,' says I, 'a +sort of middle-aged ankyrite.' But Mr. White 'e wouldn't 'ave it at no +price. 'Come now, Smith,' says 'e, 'your guv'nor's pretty deep. 'E's a +toff, 'e is, an' knows lots of lydies--titled lydies.' 'Very like,' says +I, 'but 'e doesn't mash 'em.' 'Then what price that lydy who called for +'im in a keb afore 'e went away? An' who's 'e gone to Monte Carlo with?' +This was durin' your absence, sir." + +"Go on, Smith. Anything else?" + +"Well, sir, that rather flung me out of my stride, as the sayin' is, as +I _'ad_ seen the lydy in question. An' Mr. White 'as a nasty way of +putting you on your oath, so to speak. But I never owned up." + +Claude laughed. + +"Excellent. Mr. White has a keen nose for false scents. I have already +told him to let my affairs alone. He means no harm." + +But the reference to a "lydy in a keb" had suggested an immediate plan +of action to the barrister. He would call to see Mrs. Hillmer. He wrote +a note asking her if he might come to tea that afternoon, and sent it by +a boy messenger. + +In return he received this answer. + + "Mrs. Hillmer will be at home at four o'clock if Mr. Bruce cares + to call then." + +"Whew!" he whistled. "What's in the wind there? This is an uncommonly +stiff invitation. That rascal White has upset her, I'll be bound. I +_must_ choke him off somehow. Suppose he were to find that damaged +bracket! He would have Mensmore under trial at the Old Bailey in +double-quick time. After I leave Mrs. Hillmer I must visit No. 12 again, +and carry off that pair of brackets before White discovers them, as he +will haunt the place in future." + +Bruce had a set of skeleton keys in his possession. + +They were in his pocket when he approached Raleigh Mansions at the +appointed hour. + +The same trim maid opened the door for him and ushered him into the +drawing-room. On the occasion of his first visit he was taken to the +dining-room. It was a small matter, but Bruce paid heed to such. + +Mrs. Hillmer appeared, very stately and undemonstrative. She greeted him +coldly, seated herself at a distance, and said, in a cold, +well-controlled voice: + +"I did not expect the honor of another visit from you, Mr. Bruce." + +"Why not?" + +There was a fight brewing, and he would let the enemy open fire. The +glitter in her eyes showed that the batteries were ready to be unmasked. +He was not mistaken. + +"Why not? Because I believed you to be a gentleman. Once you had stooped +to sending your myrmidons to pester me I imagined that you would keep +yourself in the background." + +There was an indignant ring in her words as she concluded. When a woman +is angry her own speech acts as a trumpet-call and fires her blood. Mrs. +Hillmer began, as she intended, in icy disdain. She ended in tremulous +anger. + +"You allude to Mr. White?" said the barrister, looking steadily at her. + +"Yes, that is the man. Some hireling from Scotland Yard. How _could_ you +so meanly induce my confidence at our first meeting? I have never been +so deceived in a man in my life, and I have had a surfeit of bitter +experience already." + +"Brother and sister are alike. They have led queer lives," mused Bruce. +Aloud he said: + +"Your experience, Mrs. Hillmer, should at least lead you not to condemn +any one unheard. May I explain that which is to you incomprehensible at +this moment?--justly so, I admit." + +"Explanations! I am a child in the hands of such as you. How can I hope +to fathom your real intent? Presumably, if I accept your apologies now, +it will be a prelude to further visits by impudent police officers." + +"I am not here to apologize, Mrs. Hillmer." + +"What then, pray?" + +"To plead with you. For Heaven's sake do not distrust _me_. It may ruin +those whom you hold dear. Listen to me first, and try to believe me +afterwards." + +He was so thoroughly in earnest, so impressive in manner, that she did +not know what to make of him. In her despair, she adopted a woman's +chief resource--her eyes filled with tears. + +But he anticipated her. + +"Now, Mrs. Hillmer," he cried, "let us act like sensible people. Compose +yourself, order in some tea, and after an interlude I will tell you all +about it. Candor is an indispensable element of confidence." + +Mrs. Hillmer rose, made an effort to choke back her agitation, went out, +and called to the maid for tea. She returned in a few moments. When they +were alone Bruce said, with a smile: + +"A little _poudre de ris_ is an excellent corrective for signs of +grief." + +The lady blushed, and there was a perceptible return to her former +pleasant manner. + +"You are incorrigible, I fear," she cried. + +"Not a bit. Impressionable, rather. Now, I am going to startle you +considerably, so be prepared. And do not jump at conclusions. Though +startling, my news is not alarming. All may yet end well." + +Mrs. Hillmer was manifestly anxious, but she promised to try to +understand him fully before she formed any judgment. + +"Then," said he, "I can clear the air a good deal by a simple statement. +Mr. White is no agent of mine, and I have seen your brother, Albert +Mensmore, at Monte Carlo." + +Mrs. Hillmer gave a little gasp of surprise. "You have seen Bertie?" + +"Yes; your brother, is he not?" + +"My half-brother, to be exact. My father was married twice. I--I am the +elder of the two by four years." + +"Apart from the compliment, you do not look it. But what you say +explains the total absence of likeness between you." + +"Possibly. People said we each resembled our mother. And Bertie, you +know, has led a somewhat adventurous career. He roughed it a good deal +in America. But what has all this got to do with detectives, and recent +inquiries, and that sort of thing?" + +"Much. The last time we met I told you that your brother was mixed up in +some little affair with a lady." + +Mrs. Hillmer laughed, a trifle constrainedly. "If you knew Bertie as +well as I do, you would not harbor suspicions concerning him. He never +had a love affair in his life. Indeed, he is something of a +woman-hater." + +"No doubt he was. But he has changed his opinions. He is in love, and is +engaged to be married to a very charming girl. Thus far, his beliefs and +his good fortune have pulled against each other." + +"Bertie engaged to be married! Good gracious! Who is she? And how can he +support a wife? He is poor, and in debt, and he won't even let me help +him." + +"I have stated the facts, nevertheless. The lady is a daughter of Sir +William Browne, and they are now yachting with a large party in the +Mediterranean." + +"Are her people against the match? Is that why this Scotland Yard +man--?" + +"No. Mensmore is on board Sir William's yacht. But there is another +lady, missing from her home for nearly three months, who is believed to +be dead--murdered, the police say--and with whom your brother was in +some indefinable way associated." + +"Do they dare to say that Bertie killed her?" Mrs. Hillmer's color rose +and her eyes flashed fire again. + +"They say nothing. They are simply doing their duty in trying to +discover the truth. And you may take it from me, as an undoubted fact, +that the last place this lady visited before her death was one of the +flats in these mansions. All present indications point to your brother's +residence as being that place. Now, I pray you, be calm, and try to help +me, for I have acted in this matter as your friend and as your brother's +friend. At this very moment I am concealing his identity and his +whereabouts from the police, who are searching for him under the assumed +name of Corbett. If he is guilty of this crime, then I must hand him +over to justice, for the murdered woman was a dear and good friend of +mine. If he is innocent, as, indeed, I believe him to be, I will strive +to help him and save his good name from the tarnish of being arrested on +such an odious charge." + +During this recital Mrs. Hillmer became deathly pale. Her agitation was +the greater inasmuch as she forcibly controlled herself. But she could +not remain seated. She sprang to the window and looked out, in the vain +effort to seek inspiration from the gathering gloom of the street. Then +she turned, and spoke very slowly: + +"I think I understand. I must have faith in you, Mr. Bruce. +Who--was--the lady?" + +The barrister thought deeply before replying. He had previously decided +upon this supreme step, but he hesitated now that it was imminent. There +was no help for it. + +"Her name," said he, "is one which is well known to the world. Lady +Dyke, wife of Sir Charles Dyke, is missing from her home since the +evening of November 6 last. She met with a violent death that night, and +I--not the police--have good reason to believe that she was killed in +your brother's residence." + +Mrs. Hillmer flung herself on a lounge, buried her white face in her +hands and moaned, in a perfect agony of terror: + +"Oh, my God! What shall I do? What shall I do?" + +This outburst astounded Bruce. He did not know what to make of it. His +intelligence had certainly taken his hearer by surprise. What +interpretation was he to place upon her words and her unrestrained +actions? + +"Now, Mrs. Hillmer," he began; but she broke in vehemently, running to +him and clutching him by the arm: + +"He is innocent, Mr. Bruce. He _must_ be innocent. He could not lift his +finger to any woman. You must save him--do you hear?--save him, or you +will have his blood on your soul. It _was_ true, then, that you came +here to hunt for him. Save him, if you hope for mercy yourself when you +are dying." + +In her passion she shook him violently, and for an instant they looked +intently at each other--the woman tensely piteous, entreating; the man +amazed and questioning. + +"Do you not see," he said at last, "that your vehemence reveals your +thoughts? For anything you know to the contrary, your brother may have +committed the crime. Nay, it requires but slight knowledge of human +nature to read your suspicions lest it be true. At this moment I am +convinced that you are, in your heart, less sceptical than I of his +guilt." + +Mrs. Hillmer flung herself again upon the lounge, silent, tearful, torn +with violent emotion, which she vainly tried to suppress. + +He tried to reason with her. + +"It will, perhaps, serve to clear up a mystery that deepens each moment +if you place your trust in me," he said. "Tell me fully and openly any +cause you may have for fearing that your brother may be implicated in +this terrible business. I ask you to adopt this course in all faith. I +have seen your brother under most trying circumstances; I have been with +him at an hour when it would be impossible for him to conceal his burden +if the weight of Lady Dyke's death lay upon him. Yet I think him +innocent. I think that chance has contributed to gather evidence against +him. If I can learn even a portion of the truth it will enable me to +quickly dispel the barrier of uncertainty that now hinders progress." + +"What is it you want to know?" + +Mrs. Hillmer's voice was hollow and broken. The barrister was shocked at +the effect of his revelation, but he was forced to go on with the +disagreeable task he had undertaken. + +"Do you mean," he asked, "that you will answer my questions?" + +"So far as I can." + +"Would it not be better to tell me in your own words what you have to +say?" + +Mrs. Hillmer looked up, and the agony in her face filled him with keen +pity. + +"Oh, Heaven help me to do what is right!" she cried. + +"Your prayer will surely be answered. I am certain of that. A great +wrong has been committed by some one, and the innocent must not suffer +to shield the guilty." + +Mrs. Hillmer bowed her head and did not utter a word for some minutes. +She appeared to be reasoning out some plan of action in a dazed fashion. +When decision came she said in low tones: + +"You must leave me now, Mr. Bruce. I must have time. When I am ready I +shall send for you." + +He knew instinctively that it was hopeless to plead with her. Frivolous, +volatile women of her stamp often betray unusual strength of character +in a supreme crisis. + +"You are adopting an unwise course," he said sadly. + +"Maybe. But I must be alone. I am not deceiving you. When I have +determined something which is not now clear to me, I will send for you. +It may be that I shall speak. It may be that I shall be silent. In +either case I only can judge--and suffer." + +"Tell me one thing at least, Mrs. Hillmer, before we part. Did you know +of Lady Dyke's death before to-day?" + +She came to him and looked him straight in the face, and said: "I did +not. On my soul, I did not." + +Then he passed into the hall; and even the shock of this painful +interview did not prevent him from noting the flitting of a shadow past +a distant doorway, as some one hurried into the interior of a room. + +In their excitement they forgot that their voices might attract +attention, and ladies' maids are proverbially inquisitive. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +FOXEY + + +The keen, cold air of the streets soon restored the man to his habitual +calm. He felt that a quiet stroll would do him good. + +As he walked he pondered, and the more critically he examined Mrs. +Hillmer's change of attitude the less he understood it. + +"For some ridiculous reason," he communed, "the woman believes her +brother guilty. Now I shall have endless trouble at getting at the +truth. She will not be candid. She will only tell me that which she +thinks will help him, and conceal that which she considers damaging. +That is a woman's way, all the world over. And a desperately annoying +way it is. Perhaps I was to blame in springing this business too hastily +upon her. But there! I like Mrs. Hillmer, and I hate using her as one +juggles with a self-conceited witness. In future I shall trouble her no +more." + +A casual glance into the interior of Sloane Square Station gave him a +glimpse of the barrier, and he recognized the collector who had taken +Lady Dyke's ticket on that fatal night when she quitted the Richmond +train. + +Rather as a relief than for other cause he entered into conversation +with the official. + +"Do you remember me?" he said. + +"Can't say as I do, sir." The man examined his questioner with quick +suspicion. The forgotten "season" dodge would not work with _him_. + +"Maybe you remember these?" said Bruce, producing his cigar-case. + +"Now, wot's the gyme?" said the collector to himself. But he smiled, and +answered: "Do you mean by the look of 'em, sir?" + +"Good!" laughed Claude. "Take three or four home with you. Meanwhile I +am sure you remember me coming to see you last November concerning a +lady who alighted here from Victoria one foggy evening and handed you a +ticket to Richmond?" + +"Of course I do, sir. And the cigars are _all_ right. There was a lot of +fuss about that lydy. Did she ever turn up?" + +"Not exactly. That is to say, she died shortly after you saw her." + +"No! Well, of all the rummy goes! She was a fine-looking woman, too, as +well as I rec'llect. Looked fit for another fifty year. Wot 'appened to +'er." + +"I don't know. I wish I did." + +"An' 'ave you been on the 'unt ever since, guv'nor?" + +"Yes, ever since." + +"She's dead, you s'y?" + +"Yes." + +"But 'ow'd you know she's dead, if you 'ain't seen 'er since?" + +"I have seen her. I saw her dead body at Putney." + +"At Putney! Well, I'm blowed!" + +A roar from beneath, the slamming of many doors, and the quick rush of a +crowd up the steps, announced the arrival of a train. "Pardon, sir," +said the man, "this is the 5.41 Mansion House. But don't go aw'y. +There's somethin'--Tickets, _if_ you please." + +In a minute the collector had ended his task. While sorting his bundles +of pasteboards he said: + +"Nobody ever tell'd me that before. An' you ain't the only one on 'er +track. Are you in the police?" + +"No." + +"I thought not. But some other chaps who kem 'ere was. None of 'em ever +said the lydy was dead." + +"Why; what matter?" + +"Oh, nothin', but two 'eads is better'n one, if they're only sheep's +'eads." + +"Undoubtedly. The rule is all the more reliable when one of them belongs +to a shrewd chap like you." + +The collector grinned. He understood that he was being flattered for a +purpose, yet he liked it. + +"That's one w'y of lookin' at it," he said, "but if this affair's +pertickler, why, all I can s'y is it's worth somethin' to somebody." + +"Certainly. Here's a sovereign for a start. If you can tell me anything +really worth knowing I will add four more to it." + +"Now, that's talkin'. I'm off duty at eight o'clock, an' I can't 'ave a +chat now because I expect the inspector any minute." + +"Suppose you call and see me in Victoria Street at nine?" + +"Right you are, sir." + +Bruce gave the man his address and recrossed the square. Few people were +abroad, so he walked straight to the first door of Raleigh Mansions and +made his way to the fourth floor. + +Had he been a moment later he must have seen Mrs. Hillmer, closely +wrapped up, leave her residence unattended. Her carriage was not in +waiting. She walked to the cabstand in the square and called a hansom, +driving back up Sloane Street. + +Her actions indicated a desire to be unobserved even by her servants, as +in the usual course of events the housemaid would have brought a cab to +the door. + +But the barrister, steadily climbing up the stairs, could not guess what +was happening in the street. He soon opened Mensmore's door, and noted, +as an idle fact, that the expected gust of cold air was absent. + +There was no light on this landing, so he was in pitch darkness once he +had passed the doorway. There was no need to strike a match, however, as +he remembered the exact position of the electric switchboard--on the +left beyond the dining-room door. + +He stepped cautiously forward, and stretched forth his hand to grope for +the lever. With a quick rush, some two or three assailants flung +themselves upon him, and after a fierce, gasping struggle--for Bruce was +a strong man--he was borne to the floor face downwards, with one arm +beneath him and the other pinioned behind his back. + +"Look sharp, Jim," shouted a breathless voice. "Turn on the light and +close the door. We've got him safe enough." + +They had. Two large hands were clutched round his neck, a knee was +firmly embedded in the small of his back, another hand gripped his left +wrist like a vice, while some one sat on his legs. + +He could not have been collared more effectually by a Rugby +International team. + +The third man found the electric light and turned it on. + +"Now, get up," said some one, "and don't give us any more trouble. It's +no use." + +The barrister, who had had his wind knocked out of him, rose to his +knees. Then, as the light fell upon the horrified face of Mr. White, he +vainly essayed to keep up the pretence of indignation. Once fairly on +his feet, he nearly collapsed with laughter. He leaned against the wall, +and, as his breath came again, he laughed until his sides ached. + +Meanwhile the detective was crimson with rage and annoyance. His two +assistants did not know what to make of the affair. + +"What's wrong, Jim?" said one at last. "Isn't this Corbett?" + +"No, of course it's not," was his angry growl. + +"Then who the ---- is it?" + +"Oh, ask me another! How on earth could I guess, Mr. Bruce, that you'd +come letting yourself in here with a latchkey?" + +Claude was still holding his sore ribs and could not answer; but the +policeman who had questioned White caught the name. He recognized it, +and grinned at his companion. + +"What did you want here, anyhow?" snarled the infuriated detective, as +he realized that his great _coup_ would be retailed with embellishments +through every police station in the metropolis. + +"I w-wanted you to ar-r-rest me, W-White," roared Claude. "I s-said you +would, and you have." + +"Confound it, how could you know I was here?" + +"You were sure to wait here for a man who probably will not return for +months." + +"Was I, indeed? Well, you have yourself to blame if you are hurt. I +hope my mates did not treat you too badly?" + +"What?" cried the one who had not yet spoken. "He gave me such a punch +on the bread-basket that I've only just recovered my speech." + +"I think we're about quits," said the other, surveying a torn waistcoat +and broken watch-chain. + +"I shall be black and blue all over to-morrow," said Bruce; "but if you +are satisfied I am. Come, Mr. White, bring your friends and we will open +a bottle of wine. We all want it. Corbett won't be here to-night. Just +now he is in Wyoming." + +"How do you know?" + +"By intuition. I am seldom mistaken." + +"But why didn't you call out just now when you came in?" + +"I hadn't a chance. You were on me like a thousand of bricks. I must +confess that if Corbett were in my shoes he would be a doomed man." + +White didn't know whether to believe Bruce or not. He was genuinely +angry at the incident, but the barrister did not want to convert him +into an enemy, and he vaguely felt that a catastrophe was imminent, and +a false move by the police might do irretrievable mischief. + +"Well, inspector," he said, "I must confess that this time you have got +the better of me. I did not know you were here. I looked in for the +purpose of quietly studying the ground, as it were, and I was never more +taken by surprise in my life. Moreover, your plan was a very clever one, +in view of the fact that Corbett might return at any moment." + +The detective became more amiable at this praise from the famous +amateur, for Bruce's achievements were well known to his two colleagues. + +"I suppose you wondered what had happened," he said with a smile. + +"I thought my last hour had come. I am only sorry that Corbett himself +did not have the experience." + +"Do you really believe he is in the States, sir?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"Then he must have returned there since he wrote that letter." + +"That is the only solution of the difficulty." + +"Hum. It's a pity." + +"Why?" + +"I would sooner prefer to arrest him on this side. To get him by +extradition is a slow affair, and probably means a trip across the +Atlantic." + +Good-humor being now restored, the party quitted the flat and adjourned +to a neighboring hotel, where the barrister started White on the full, +true, and particular account of his pursuit and capture of the Winchmore +Hill burglars, an exploit which was the pride of the detective's life. + +At the end of a bottle of champagne and a cigar they all parted +excellent friends, but Bruce did not attempt to revisit Raleigh Mansions +that night. + +Instead, he partook of a quiet meal at a restaurant, and hurried to his +chambers to await the advent of the ticket-collector. + +Punctual to the hour, this new witness arrived, and was admitted by +Smith in obedience with previous instructions. The man was somewhat awed +by the surroundings and the appearance of a servant in livery, but Bruce +quickly put him at his ease. + +"Come, sit near the fire. Do you drink whisky and soda? That box +contains your favorite cigars. Now, tell me all you know about this +business." + +"I can't s'y as I know anythink about it, sir, but by puttin' two and +two together it makes four sometimes--not always." + +"Quite right. You're a philosopher. Let me hear the two two's. We will +see about the addition afterwards." + +"Well, sir, this yer lydy was a-missin' early in November. She tykes a +ticket at Victoria Station on the District for Richmond; she gives it up +to me at Sloane Square, arsks a newsboy the w'y to Raleigh Mansions, for +'e tell'd me so after you'd bin to see me, an' from what you s'y, 'as +bin swallered up ever since." + +"The Lord Chief couldn't state the case more simply." + +"That's the first two. Now, for the second two, an' you won't forgit as +I knew nothink about the lydy bein' dead, or I should 'ave opened my +mouth long afore this." + +"Go on. No one can blame you." + +"There's an old chap--Foxey they calls 'im, but I don't know 'is right +nyme--who drives a four-wheeler around Chelsea, an' 'e 'ad tyken a fare +from the Square to the City. It might be four o'clock or it might be +five, but 'e was on 'is w'y back from Cornhill when a gent, a tall, +good-looking gent, a youngish, military chap, 'ails 'im and says: +'Cabby, drive me to Sloane Square. There's no 'urry, but tyke care, +because it's foggy.' Old Foxey nearly jumped out of 'is skin at this bit +of good luck. 'E was pretty full then, for 'e's a regular beer-barrel, +'e is, but 'e made up 'is mind to 'ave a fair old skinful that night. +Well, Foxey drives 'im all right to the Square. The gent gives 'im five +bob and says: 'Wite 'ere for me, cabby. You can drive me 'ome in about +an hour's time.' This was at 5.30. Foxey drew up near the stytion, tells +me all about it, an' stan's me two beers, 'e was that pleased with +'isself. 'E goes to give 'is 'oss the nose-bag, in comes the Richmond +train, and out pops the lydy with the Richmond ticket. D'ye follow me?" + +"Every word." + +"An' you see now 'ow it is I can fix the d'y?" + +"Perfectly." + +"Well, I sees no more of Foxey. I missed 'im about the Square, so one +d'y I axes at the rank,--'Where's Foxey?' An' where d'ye think 'e was?" + +"I can not tell." + +"In quod." + +"In jail. Why?" + +"That's hit. That's number two of the twos. Pardon me, but I'm gettin' a +bit mixed. Well, it seems that that very night, comin' back from Putney +as drunk as a lord, old Foxey runs over a barrer. 'E an' the coster 'as +a fight. The police come, and Foxey dots one bobby in the blinkers and +another on the boko. You wouldn't think it was in 'im. 'E must 'ave bin +paralytic." + +"So he was locked up?" + +"Locked up! 'E was dragged there by the 'eels. Next mornin' 'e comes +before the beak. 'We was all drunk together, your wurshup,' 'e says. 'I +took a fare from the City to Sloane Square, an' 'e left me for more'n an +hour. 'E comes back excited like--bin boozin' 'ard, I suppose--brings my +keb up to a 'ouse, carries in a lydy who was that 'toxicated she +couldn't stand, an' tells me to drive to Putney. We gits there, an' I +says 'you've nearly killed my 'oss, guv'nor.' With that 'e tips me a +fiver--a five-pun note, your wurshup.' 'What has that got to do with +the charge?' says the beak. 'Wot?' says Foxey. 'If a chap give you a +fiver for drivin' 'im to Putney wouldn't you get drunk?' With that the +magistrate gives 'im three months for assaulting the police, and fines +'im the balance of the fiver for bein' drunk in charge of a 'oss and +keb." + +The ticket collector took a long drink after this recital. + +"I hope you will not follow Foxey's example," said Bruce, rising. + +"'Ow do you mean, sir?" + +"Because I am going to keep my word. Here are the four sovereigns I owe +you. In your case your two and two have made five." + +"Thank you, sir. You're a brick. No fear of me meltin' this little lot. +The missus will be on 'em like a bird w'en I tell her." And the man spat +upon the coins with evident relish as he handled them. + +"One word more," said Bruce. "Where was this man tried?" + +"At the West London Police Court." + +"You can get me his real name and post it to me?" + +"Sure, sir. Anyway, I'll try." + +"I am greatly obliged to you." + +"An' 'as my yarn bin of any use to you, sir?" + +"The greatest. It has solved a puzzle. However, I will see you again. +Good-bye. Don't forget to write." + +"Cornhill is the direct line from Leadenhall Street," mused Claude, when +he was alone. "Any one coming to Sloane Square from Dodge & Co.'s office +would pass through it. Upon my word, things look very black against +Mensmore. Yet I cannot believe it." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +A POSSIBLE EXPLANATION + + +Bruce now had several lines of inquiry open. + +Apart from the main and vital question as to the exact method of Lady +Dyke's death, and the identity of the person responsible for it, a +number of important matters required attention. + +Why had Jane Harding quitted her situation so suddenly? + +Whence did she obtain the money that enabled her to blossom forth as +Marie le Marchant? + +Who was Sydney H. Corbett? + +Why did Mensmore adopt a false name; and, in any case, why adopt the +name of Corbett? + +Why did Mrs. Hillmer exhibit such sudden terror lest her brother might +be guilty? + +Whom did Mrs. Hillmer marry? Was her husband alive or dead? + +Was the man who conveyed Lady Dyke's body from Raleigh Mansions to +Putney responsible also for her death? + +Finally, why did he select that particular portion of the Thames banks +for the bestowal of his terrible burden? + +Many other minor features suggested themselves for careful attention, +but the barrister knew that if he elucidated some of the major questions +the rest would answer themselves. + +The last query promised to yield a good crop of information should it be +satisfactorily dealt with. Turning to his notes, he found that the +former owner of the Putney house was a tutor or preparatory +schoolmaster, named the Rev. Septimus Childe. + +Could it be that this was the school in which both Sir Charles Dyke and +Mensmore were fellow-students? If so, Bruce failed to see why he should +not forthwith place the whole of the facts in his possession at the +service of the police, and allow the law to take its course. + +On this supposition, the case against Mensmore was very black; not, +indeed, incapable of explanation--for circumstantial evidence +occasionally plays strange pranks with logic--but of such a grave nature +that no private individual would be justified in keeping his knowledge +to himself. + +The deduction was intensely disagreeable; but Bruce resolved to coerce +his thoughts, and do that which was right, irrespective of consequences. + +He did not possess a Clergy List. No letter came from Mrs. Hillmer, so +he walked across the Park to his club in Pall Mall to consult the +appropriately bound black and white volume which gives reference to the +many degrees of the Church of England. + +Septimus Childe was a distinctive, though simple, name. And it was not +there. There was not a Childe with a final "e" in the whole book. +Without that important letter, as his informant might be mistaken, there +were several. Close scrutiny of each man's designation and duties +convinced him that though any of these might be one of the particular +Childe's children, none answered to the description of the gentleman he +sought. + +Of course, he could always apply to Sir Charles Dyke, but he dreaded +approaching the grief-stricken baronet on this matter. Now there was no +help for it. The barrister was beginning to feel impatient at the +constant difficulties which barred progress in each direction. After +all, it was a small thing merely to ask his friend if he ever knew a +reverend gentleman named Childe. + +Bruce was sure that Sir Charles would not be acquainted with Mr. Childe, +and also with the fact that the Putney house had served as his school, +for it would be strange beyond credence if it were so that he had not +mentioned it. + +The weather was still clear and cold, and a wintry sun made walking +pleasant. Claude, on quitting his club, set out again on foot. He +crossed St. James's Square, Jermyn Street, and Piccadilly, and made his +way to Oxford Street up New Bond Street. + +Not often did he frequent these fashionable thoroughfares, and he had an +excellent reason. When walking, he was given to abstraction, and seldom +saw his acquaintances if he encountered them in unusual quarters. He +would thus cut dead a woman at whose house he had dined the previous +evening, or, when he was in practice at the Bar, fail to notice the +salutation of his own leader. + +To Claude himself this short-coming was intolerable; consciousness of it +when in the West made him the most alert man in the crowd to note +anybody whom he knew, except on the rare occasions when he forgot his +failing. + +This morning Bond Street was pleasantly full. People were beginning to +return to town. Parliament re-assembled in a few days, and he passed +many who were on his visiting list. + +Outside a well-known costumer's he saw a brougham, into which a lady had +just been assisted by the commissionaire. + +It is no uncommon thing to recognize an acquaintance by the color of his +horse, or the peculiar cut of the coachman's whiskers. This time Bruce +knew the driver as well as the equipage, but the lady was not Mrs. +Hillmer. + +Instantly he was at the door, with his hat lifted; he assumed an +expression of polite regret as he saw Dobson, the maid, in her +mistress's place. + +"Sorry," he said, "I knew the carriage, and thought that Mrs. Hillmer +was inside. She is well, I trust." + +"Not very, sir," answered the maid with an angry pout. + +"Indeed, what is the matter?" + +"Madame is going away, and has put us all on board wages." + +Dobson had some of the privileges of a companion, and resented this +relegation to the servants' hall. + +"Going away?" cried Bruce. "A sudden departure, eh?" + +The girl was arranging some parcels on the seat in front of her. She was +not disinclined for a conversation with this good-looking gentleman, so +she smiled archly, as she said: "Didn't you know, sir? I thought you +would know all about it." + +What he might have ascertained by a longer chat the barrister could not +tell, for an interruption occurred. The coachman was more loyal to his +mistress than the maid. + +"Beg pardon, sir," he cried, "but the missus told us to hurry"; and he +whipped his steed into the passing stream of carriages. + +"More complications," murmured Claude. "Mrs. Hillmer contemplates a +bolt. Shall I pay her another visit and surprise her? No, confound it, I +will not. Let her go, and let things take their course." + +Not in the most amiable frame of mind at this discovery, he pursued his +walk to Portman Square. + +Sir Charles Dyke was at home. He always was, now. + +"For goodness' sake, Mr. Bruce," whispered Thompson in the hall, "try to +persuade Sir Charles to quit smokin', and readin', and thinkin'. He sits +all day in the library and 'ardly has anything to eat." + +Claude reproached himself for having neglected his resolution to stir +his friend into something like animation. He was wondering what he +should do in the matter, when the baronet rose at his entrance, saying, +with a weary smile: + +"Well, old fellow, what news?" + +The other suddenly decided to throw all questioning to the winds for the +moment. "I have come to bring you out. I won't hear of a refusal. Let us +walk to the club and have lunch and a game of billiards." + +Sir Charles protested. He had slept badly and was tired. + +"All the more reason that you should sleep well to-night. Come, now, be +advised. You will allow yourself to become a hopeless invalid if you go +on in this way." + +Dyke unwillingly consented, and they left the house. The older man +brightened up considerably amidst the bustle of the streets. His color +returned, he talked with some degree of cheerfulness, and even laughed +as he said: + +"I never understood you were a doctor, Claude, in addition to your other +varied acquirements. For the first time since--since November last, I +feel hungry." + +"Why don't you take my advice, and go away for some shooting? It is not +too late, even now, to go after a hare." + +"I will think of it. I wonder who we shall meet at the club." + +"Lots of fellows, no doubt. And, by the way, you must be prepared for +one little difficulty. Suppose they ask about your wife?" + +The baronet's momentary gaiety vanished. He stopped short, and clutched +Bruce's arm. "Don't you see," he almost moaned, "that this is the reason +I have remained indoors for so long? What shall I say?" + +"You must make the best of it. Say, off-handedly, you don't know where +she is--either with relations or in Italy. Anything will do, and it will +create a false impression." + +"I am sick of false impressions. I cannot do it." + +"You must." + +The stronger will prevailed, and they entered the doors of the Imperial, +where, of course, Dyke was hailed at once by a dozen men. + +"Hallo, Charlie! Been seedy?" + +"Good gracious, Dyke! have you had influenza? I've missed you for +months, now I come to think of it." + +"I haven't seen your wife for quite a time. How is she?" + +In the multitude of questions there was safety. + +Sir Charles answered vaguely, and a chance arrival created a diversion +by announcing that the favorite had broken down in his preparation for +the Grand National. + +Later in the afternoon, the two found themselves ensconced in a quiet +corner of the smoking-room. Bruce seized the opportunity. + +"You told me," he said, "that Mensmore and you were at school together?" + +"Did I?" said the baronet. + +"Yes; don't you remember?" + +"I get mixed up in thinking about things. But it is all right. We were." + +"Whereabouts?" + +"Oh, a private establishment kept by an old chap called Septimus +Childe,--Lucky Number was our nickname for him." + +Bruce betrayed no surprise at this startlingly simple statement. He said +casually: + +"I mean where was the school situated?" + +"At Brighton in my time. But afterwards he shifted to some place near +London--something to do with examinations, I fancy." + +"But don't you know where?" + +"How should I? I was at Sandhurst then. I believe the old boy is dead. +Why do you ask?" + +"Oh, it has something to do with the inquiry. I won't trouble you now +with the details." + +"Go on, I can stand it." + +"But where is the good in paining you needlessly?" + +"That stage has passed, old chap. My wife's memory has almost become a +dream to me." + +"Well, it is an extraordinary thing, but that place where--that house at +Putney, you know, must have been the new school of the Rev. Septimus +Childe." + +"How did you learn that?" + +"I have known it for months, ever since the inquest." + +"And you did not tell me?" + +"True, but at the time it seemed of no consequence. Now that Mensmore +turns out to be a pupil of his, and probably passed the remainder of his +early school days at that very establishment, the incident assumes a +degree of importance." + +Sir Charles looked earnestly at his friend as he put his next question: +"Tell me, Claude, do you seriously believe that Mensmore had anything to +do with my wife's death?" + +"I cannot honestly give you a satisfactory answer." + +"But what do you think?" + +"If you press me I will try to put my opinion into words. Mensmore was +in some mysterious way associated with the crime; but the degree of +association, and whether conscious or unconscious, I do not know." + +"What do you mean by 'conscious or unconscious'?" + +"I am sure that Lady Dyke met her death in his residence; but it is +impossible to say now if he was aware of her presence. He was in London +at the time, that is quite certain." + +"Do the police know all this?" + +"No." + +"I am glad of it. Mensmore did not kill my wife. The suggestion is +absurd--wildly absurd." + +"Things look black against him, nevertheless." + +"I tell you it is nonsense. You are on the wrong track, Bruce. What +possible reason could he have had to decoy my wife to his flat and there +murder her?" + +"None, perhaps." + +"Then why do you hesitate to agree with me?" + +"Because there is a woman in the case." + +"Another woman?" + +"Yes; Mensmore's sister, or half-sister, to be exact. She also lives in +Raleigh Mansions." + +"Indeed. So all kinds of things have been going on without my knowledge. +Yet you promised faithfully to keep me informed of every incident that +transpired." + +"I am sorry, Dyke; but you were so upset--" + +"Upset, man. Don't you realize that this affair is all I have to think +about in the world?" + +The baronet was so disturbed that Claude at once made up his mind +to tell him as little as possible in the future. These constant +possibilities of rupture between them must be avoided at all hazard. + +To change the conversation he said: "Never mind; this time you must +pardon my inadvertence. How do your wife's people bear the continued +mystery of her disappearance?" + +"At first they were awfully cut up. But lately they have been reconciled +to her death, which they say must have resulted from accident, and that +her identity must have been mixed up with that of some other person. +Such things do happen, you know. Anyway, her sister has gone into +mourning for her. You didn't hear, I suppose, that I have made my little +nephew my heir?" + +"Was that step necessary at your time of life?" + +"I shall never marry again, Bruce." + +"Well, let us drop the subject. You have done right as regards the boy +under present circumstances; but, as a man of the world, I only point +out that it is an unwise thing to bring up a youngster in expectation of +something which chance might determine differently." + +"Chance! There is no chance! My wife cannot return from the grave!" + +"True. You have done right, no doubt. But the suddenness of the thing +caused me to speak unwittingly." + +They were silent for a little while, when Sir Charles returned to the +subject nearest his heart. + +"Has your search developed in other directions?" + +Bruce fenced with the query. "To be candid," he said, "I am now most +busily engaged in the not very difficult task of throwing dust in the +eyes of the police. My motives are hardly definite to myself, but I do +not want this unfortunate man, Mensmore, to be arrested until I have +personally become convinced of his guilt." + +"You are right. Your instinct seldom fails you. I question if he ever, +to his own knowledge, saw my wife." + +"Ah! You see you have hit upon the difficulty. Show me her reason for +making that secret journey, and I will tell you how she met her death." + +His concluding words sank to a murmur. An old friend of Dyke's had +entered the room and came toward them. + +A few minutes later Bruce quitted the Imperial and drove to his +chambers, where he found a note from the ticket collector stating that +Foxey's name was William Marsh. + +The day was still young, and the barrister paid a visit to the West +London Police Court, where the records soon revealed the conviction of +the cab-driver and the period of his sentence. + +"Let me see," said the resident inspector, "his time at Holloway is up +on February 6. That is a Monday, and as Sunday doesn't count, he will be +liberated on the 4th, about 8 A.M. That is the habit, sir, in the matter +of short sentences. If you want to see him when he leaves the jail you +can either wait at the gates or at the nearest public-house, where the +prisoners go for their first drink. They seldom or never miss." + +Bruce thanked the official and returned home. + +He was on the point of going out to drive, when he received a letter +from Sir Charles Dyke. It ran: + + "_My Dear Claude_,--Today's experiences have taught me to take + the inevitable step of announcing my wife's death. Hence, I + have forwarded the enclosed notice to an advertisement agency, + with instructions to insert it in the principal papers. I have + also decided to follow your advice and leave town for a few + days. I am going to Wensley, my place in Yorkshire, should you + happen to want me. + + "Yours, + "CHARLES DYKE." + +The notice read: + + "DYKE.--On November 6, Alice, wife of Sir Charles Dyke, Bart., + suddenly, at London." + +Next morning it figured in the obituary columns of many newspapers. +Bruce, though taken back by the suddenness of his friend's resolve, saw +no reason to endeavor to dissuade him. In the words of the letter, it +was "the inevitable step." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +WHAT HAPPENED ON THE RIVIERA + + +The _White Heather_ swung quietly at her moorings in the harbor of +Genoa the Superb. The lively company on board, tired after a day's +sight-seeing, had left the marble streets and palace cafes to the +Genoese, and sought the pleasant seclusion of the yacht's airy promenade +deck. + +"Dinner on board, followed by a dance," said Phyllis, as arbiter of the +procedure. A few hasty invitations sent out to British residents in +Genoa met with general acceptance, and the lull between afternoon tea +and the more formal meal was a grateful interlude. + +Genoa is so shut in by its amphitheatre of hills that unless a gale +blows from the west its bay is unruffled, and its atmosphere +oppressively hot during the day, even in the winter months. + +Sir William Browne's excursion had proved so attractive to those invited +that the _White Heather_ was taken farther along the coast than was +originally intended. When all the best known resorts of the Riviera +itself were exploited, some one, probably prompted thereto by Phyllis or +Mensmore, suggested a run to Genoa. + +They had been in the port three days, and on the morrow would hand the +yacht over to the owner's agents, those on board separating on their +different routes. The Brownes went to Florence and Rome, and Mensmore +was pretending to hold out against a pressing request to accompany +them, cordially given by his prospective father-in-law. + +This afternoon Phyllis and he were leaning over the taffrail and +discussing the point. + +The young lady was slightly inclined to be angry. Her eyes roamed over +the magnificent panorama of church-crowned hills and verdant valleys, +with the white city in front and the picturesque quays looking as though +they had been specially decked for a painting by Clara Montalba. But +Phyllis paid heed to none of these things. She wanted her lover to come +with her, and not to fly away to smoke-covered London. + +"Business!" she cried, "it is always business that men think of. Of +course I know that affairs must be attended to, but now that everything +is settled and we are quite happy, it is too bad of you to run away +immediately." + +"But, dearest--" + +"There! Take your hand off my arm. You are not going to coax me into +agreement. Just because you receive a horrid letter this morning you go +and upset all the arrangements." + +"Phyllis, listen to me. I--" + +"You _shan't_ go. I think it is mean of you to insist upon it when I am +so urgent." + +"I am not insisting. You might at least help me to settle matters; +otherwise they will get terribly mixed." + +"And you _will_ stay?" + +"What else can I do when you ask me?" + +"Oh, you darling!" + +This little quarrel was very delightful, and made them feel ever so much +more in love than before; but it did not help Mensmore out of his +difficulty. + +"Let us see what Corbett really says," he remarked, ruefully taking a +letter from his pocket. + +"Am I to look, too?" + +"Of course. I have no secrets from you, little woman." + +Phyllis nestled up close to him. This time she did not object to his +hand resting on her shoulder, and together they read the following +letter: + + "_My Dear Bertie_,--At last I am able to write you definitely. + The prospectors have struck it rich on our property, and I have + sold two claims outright for $50,000. With this nest-egg I am + taking the girls to New York, and shall then start by the + _Teutonic_ for your side of the pond. I am due in Liverpool on + February 4, so look out for me. + + "Yours ever, + "SYDNEY H. CORBETT." + +Both gazed thoughtfully at the document for a few moments before Phyllis +said: + +"Does that mean we shall be rich, Bertie?" + +Her companion emphasized the gratification of the plural pronoun by a +squeeze. + +"I hope so, sweet." + +"That will be very nice, won't it? I will marry you even if you have to +take a place in father's office; but it will be so much better if we +haven't to explain to him that we are poor after all." + +Mensmore laughed. "It is not so bad as that in any case," he said. "This +Springbok Mine speculation will probably turn out well, but I look to +Wyoming to yield the best and most permanent results." + +"Why is Mr. Corbett coming to London?" + +"Because it is only in London that capital can be obtained for large +undertakings, and if the Wyoming Goldfield is really a valuable one we +may be able to realize some portion of our interests for a considerable +sum. Anyhow, he wants to consult me." + +"Do you both own the ranch?" + +"Yes; it was a joint transaction, but I found the money." + +"And why did you come away?" + +"Well, we made very little out of it, Phil. As Corbett has two sisters, +I thought it best to leave what there was for him. He was absurdly +grateful about what he called my generosity in the matter, but now that +the land has proved valuable, of course all that nonsense is at an end, +and we go half-shares in the deal." + +"Two sisters! They pretty?" + +"What! Jealous already! They are very nice, but much older than their +brother, and he is my senior by two years." + +Miss Browne was graciously pleased to accept this explanation. She +knitted her smooth brow into a reflective frown as she said: + +"Mr. Corbett arrives on the 4th. It is now January 30th. You really +ought to go home, Bertie." + +"Now my dear, sensible little woman is talking like her own self." + +"I see I must give you permission. But I did hope we would see Florence +together." + +"So we shall. I'll tell you what I can do. I shall write to Corbett +to-day, care of the steamer at Liverpool, tell him to go to my flat, and +stay there a few days until I arrive, and go home myself at the end of +next week. He is sure to spend some time seeing the sights before +tackling business, and he can do that as well without me as if I were +there. A line to my old housekeeper, who has a spare key, will make the +place habitable for him. Happy thought, I'll do it." + +"And another happy thought! I'll come and watch you do it." + +She did not notice that Mensmore's face clouded at this otherwise +pleasant intimation. Nevertheless, he raced off with her to the saloon +and seated himself at the writing-table. But before he placed pen to +paper, Phyllis bending over him meanwhile, he suddenly exclaimed, in a +tone of annoyance: + +"Now, what a bore this is. I don't know how to address the letter to +make sure of reaching him at once, and it is very important that it +should not miss him." + +"Father will know. Let us ask him." + +"No," said Mensmore judicially, "I will row across the harbor to the +Florio-Rubattino office, find out the exact thing, and send off the +letter. Back in half-an-hour. Be good!" + +And before Phyllis could argue the matter he was at the gangway shouting +for a boat. + +She blew a kiss to him as he shot over the narrow strip of water inside +the mole, and little realized that Mensmore was saying to himself: + +"That was a narrow squeak. Never again, as long as I live, will I take +another man's name. It causes no end of bother, and at the most +unexpected moments." + +He did not trouble the Florio-Rubattino people, as he well knew that a +letter addressed to the White Star offices would insure any +communication reaching his friend. + +The context of the missive, as finally indited at the post-office, +explains his hesitancy to write it in the presence of his _fiancee_. + + "_My dear Sydney_,--Your good news is more than surprising. + Although I believe you, I cannot yet grasp its full + significance. However, let us leave explanations until we meet. + I am fixed here for a few days more, as I have just become + engaged to the sweetest girl in the world, but will return home + at the end of next week. Meanwhile I want you to take up your + residence at my flat, No. 12 Raleigh Mansions, Sloane Square, + where my housekeeper has instructions to receive you. Do not be + surprised if you find the name of Corbett familiar there. + Indeed, I took the place in your name in August last. However, + all explanations when we meet. + + "Yours ever, + "BERTIE MENSMORE." + +This, with a note to the housekeeper, Mrs. Robinson, and another to the +hall-porter of the Universities Club, lest by any chance the Liverpool +letter missed his friend, completed his task. + +He laughed as he hurried from the post-office to the harbor. + +"By Jove!" he said to himself, "won't old Robinson be surprised when +she gets my letter telling her that another Mr. Corbett is coming from +America, and that my name, concealed for family reasons, is Mensmore. I +guess that Sydney will feel a bit mixed up, too, until I tell him the +whole yarn." + +No wonder his housekeeper would fail to understand him. + +Others, whose influence on his fortunes he little suspected, were +already puzzled by the circumstances. Bruce, for instance, and White +would be very glad if some occult power enabled them to read the +seemingly trivial letters posted that day in Genoa. + +Every person known to the reader, and not the least the visitor from the +United States, was on the eve of a mad whirl of events, the outcome of +which no man could prophesy. As yet, one man only, Claude Bruce, had the +slightest suspicion that affairs were approaching a crisis. + +When Mensmore reached the _White Heather_ he found Lady Browne and +Phyllis dressed for a drive before dinner. Sir William seized the +opportunity to cross-examine his daughter's suitor as to his means. +Phyllis was an only child, and her father did not propose that she +should live in penury, whatever the financial position of her husband +might be. He liked Mensmore, and had ascertained by private inquiries +that his social position was good. + +"His father was a Major-General," said his informant, "who lost his +savings by speculation, and was unable to maintain his son in a crack +cavalry corps, so the youngster resigned and went to America to try to +better himself. There was a daughter, too, by the first wife, a very +charming woman, who, when the crash came, was supposed to have gone on +the stage. But I have never heard of her since." + +So far, the credentials were not bad; but Sir William thought it his +duty to ascertain definite particulars. + +Mensmore was quite candid with him. + +"I have been somewhat of a rolling stone," he said, "but I am glad to +believe that people have never had cause to think ill of me. At times, +my affairs have been at a desperate stage, but I hope such periods have +passed forever. I have already spoken to you about the Springbok Mine--" + +The old gentleman nodded. + +"Well, this morning I have received very satisfactory news from +America," and he handed over Corbett's letter for perusal. + +"Yes," agreed Sir William, "these things promise well. We will look into +them when we reach England. Meanwhile, I give my provisional sanction to +my daughter's engagement. She is a good girl, Mensmore. She will be a +true and excellent wife. I think you are worthy of her, and I hope that +whatever clouds may have darkened your life will now pass away. You two +ought to be happy." + +"We will, sir," said Mensmore fervently. + +"By the way, where is your sister? Is she in England or abroad?" + +Mensmore had been expecting this question. He was prepared for it. + +"Mrs. Hillmer is my half-sister," he explained. "I have not seen much of +her since--since an unhappy marriage she contracted some years ago." + +"Indeed. Is her husband alive?" + +"I can hardly tell you. I believe so. But she does not live with him. +She is well provided for, but it was partly on account of this matter +that I came to the Riviera for the winter. To tell the truth, I +quarrelled with her about it." + +"Ah, well. Her troubles need not affect Phyllis and you, except to give +you warning. And take my advice. Never interfere between husband and +wife. However good your motive, ill is sure to come of it." + +In the growing dusk Sir William Browne did not note his companion's +embarrassment in discussing this topic. Mensmore was essentially an +honorable man, and he detested the necessity which forced him to permit +false inferences to be drawn from his words. Yet there was no help for +it. He was compelled to suffer for the faults of another. + +It was relief when the dressing-bell for dinner allowed him to escape to +his cabin. + +There was quite a large gathering for dinner. Places like Genoa contain +a number of highly interesting personages if the visitor discovers them. +The British race produces a richer variety of human flotsam and jetsam +than any other. These derelicts come to anchor in out-of-the-way parts +of the earth. They seem to have been everywhere and have done +everything, while the whole world is an open book to them. + +Thus there was no lack of variety in the conversation, and, as usual in +such assemblies, it dealt more with persons than with incidents. + +Phyllis had arranged the guests, so it may be taken for granted that her +lover was near her--in fact, he sat exactly opposite. The lady he took +in to dinner was the wife of an English doctor, and the British consul +at the port was Miss Browne's table companion. + +The consul was a chatty man, who kept himself well informed concerning +society events. + +"By the way," he said to Phyllis, "did you ever meet Lady Dyke?" + +"No, her name is not familiar to me." + +"Do you mean the wife of Sir Charles Dyke?" said Mensmore; and the +sudden interest he evinced caused Phyllis to glance at him wonderingly. + +"Yes, that is she." + +"I know Sir Charles well. What is there new about his wife?" + +"She is dead." + +"Good Heavens! Dead! When, and how?" + +Mensmore was so obviously agitated that others present noticed it, and +Phyllis marvelled much that in all their confidence the name of Dyke had +never escaped his lips. + +The consul, too, was a little nonplussed by the sensation caused by his +words. + +"I fear," he said, "that I have blurted out the fact rather unguardedly. +The Dykes are friends of yours?" + +"No, no, not in that sense. Sir Charles I have known for many years. But +are you sure his wife is dead?" + +"My authority is an announcement in the _Times_ to hand by to-day's +post. I should not have mentioned it were not her ladyship so well known +in society, and the affair is peculiar, to say the least." + +"Peculiar--how?" + +In his all-absorbing interest in the consul's statement, Mensmore paid +no heed to the curious looks directed at him; he had become very pale, +and was more excited in manner than the circumstances appeared to +warrant. + +"In this sense: The paper is the issue of January 28, yet the notice +says that Lady Dyke died on November 6. This is odd, is it not? A woman +of her position could hardly have quitted life so quietly that no one +would trouble to publish the fact until nearly three months after the +event." + +"It is extraordinary--inexplicable!" + +"Did you know Lady Dyke personally, Bertie?" put in Phyllis timorously. + +The question restored Mensmore to some sense of his surroundings. + +"I have never even seen her," he said, trying desperately to be +commonplace; "but her husband is an old schoolfellow of mine, and I +have heard much of both of them since their marriage. I am quite shocked +by the news." + +"I can only repeat my regret for having spoken of it so carelessly," +said the polite consul. + +"Oh, I am glad to know of it since it has happened. Poor Lady Dyke! How +strange that she should die!" + +Phyllis had the tact to change the conversation, and Mensmore gradually +recovered his self-possession. A woman's eyes are keener than a man +often gives her credit for; and Phyllis saw quite plainly that after the +first effect of the news had passed it, in some indefinable way, seemed +to have a good effect on her lover. But if a woman's intuition is seldom +at fault her reasoning faculties are narrow. + +Trying to arrive at a solution of the mystery attending Mensmore's +behavior, Phyllis suddenly became hot all over. + +She felt furiously and inordinately jealous of a woman she did not know, +and who was admittedly dead before Mensmore and she herself had met. + +Hence her nose went high in the air when Bertie claimed her for the +first dance. + +"Who is this Lady Dyke in whom you are so deeply interested?" she said, +drawing him beneath a sheltering awning. + +"As I said," replied Mensmore, "she is the wife of an old acquaintance +of mine." + +"But you must have been very fond of her to feel so keenly when you +heard of her death?" + +"Fond of her! I have never, to my knowledge, laid eyes on her." + +"Oh!" And the tone was somewhat mollified. "Then why did you look so +worried during dinner?" + +"Simply because I know Sir Charles." + +"What a dear, sympathetic little boy you are! When I die, Bertie, I +suppose you will drop down stiff from grief at once." + +"Don't talk nonsense. We are missing all this delightful music." + +And they whirled away down the snowy deck, forgetful of all things save +one, that they were in love. + +Now, what a pity it was that Bruce was not on board the _White Heather_ +that night. Many complications, and not a little misery, would have been +avoided thereby. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +WHERE MRS. HILLMER WENT + + +Sir Charles Dyke, in sending off the hurried announcement of his wife's +death, forgot the "society" papers. + +Such a promising topic did not come in their way every week, and they +made the most of it. Where did Lady Dyke die? Under what circumstances +did she die? They rolled the morsel under their tongue in every +conceivable manner. + +Details were not forthcoming. + +"Our representative called at Wensley House, Portman Square, but was +informed that Sir Charles was in Yorkshire." Inquiry by a local reporter +from Sir Charles in person elicited no information. "Lady Dyke is dead," +wrote this enterprising journalist; "of that there can be no manner of +doubt, but her husband states that for family reasons he is unable to +supply the public with the precise facts concerning his wife's demise." + +This ill-advised authentic statement only fanned the flame. An evening +journal got hold of the proceedings at the Putney Coroner's Court which +inquired into the death of a woman found in the Thames, and, with a +portentous display of headlines, published an interview with the doctor +giving particulars of the iron spike found imbedded in the skull. + +The paper was also able to state "on the best authority" that at this +inquest Sir Charles Dyke and the missing lady's personal maid were +called in to identify the body, but failed. + +A first-class sensation was in full swing and threatened to reach the +question stage in the House of Commons when Bruce took hold of affairs. + +He went to Sir Charles Dyke's solicitors, and induced them to send out +the following authoritative communication to the press: + + "Much unnecessary pain is being caused to Sir Charles Dyke and + to the relatives of his late wife by the comments which have + appeared in many newspapers regarding Lady Dyke's death. Her + ladyship left her home on November 6th to pay a visit to her + sister at Richmond, and since that date has not been seen or + heard of. There was no possible reason for her disappearance. + After a long and agonizing search, her husband and relatives + have come to the conclusion that she met with some accident on + the date named, with the result that her identity was not + established, and she was probably buried from some hospital or + other institution long before her friends seriously entertained + the thought that she was dead. Every such case of accidental + death followed by the interment of unknown persons by the + authorities, occurring on or about November 6th, has since been + rigidly investigated, but no definite trace has been found of + the missing lady. Sir Charles Dyke determined to take the public + step of announcing his wife's death in the hope that any + hitherto undiscovered clue might thereby come to light. But + there are no grounds to suppose that any other explanation of + the occurrence than that given will be forthcoming. The + investigation has been in the hands of Scotland Yard throughout, + so no good purpose can be served by further discussion in the + press of what is now, and threatens to remain, a mystery + rendered more complex by the simplicity of its leading + features." + +Several newspapers, of course, pointed out that they were helping +forward the inquiry by noising it abroad, but thenceforth the paragraphs +ceased, being eclipsed in interest by the revelations of a great divorce +case in which there were no less than six titled co-respondents. + +One man was much puzzled by the original obituary notice and the +semi-official statement supplied by the solicitors. + +Mr. White did not know what to make of them. He guessed that Bruce had +inspired that "explanation," and he read the concluding sentence many +times. + +"It threatens to remain a mystery, does it not?" he murmured. "Just +wait, Mr. Bruce, until I lay my hands on Corbett. Clever as you are, I +think I will show you that Scotland Yard can occasionally get the better +of your theories. Anyhow, Corbett will have to be very explicit about +his movements before I am satisfied that he knows nothing about this +business." + +He had written to the Chief of Police at Cheyenne, and something +definite would soon come to hand. + +Nevertheless, he felt somewhat shaken in his diagnosis of the crime. +Wyoming was a long way from London, and the letter from Corbett, which +he had in his possession, did not exactly confirm his suspicion that +this man was concerned in the murder of Lady Dyke. + +He quickly became aware of Mrs. Hillmer's departure, and at once jumped +to the conclusion that she had recently left England for the United +States. A close scrutiny of the passenger lists at Liverpool and +Southampton did not help him much, and he ultimately resolved to call on +Bruce, in the hope that a chance exclamation might reveal the +barrister's opinion of the situation. + +Claude was not at a loss to account for Mr. White's presence. + +"I expected you," he said. + +"Really now, may I ask why, sir?" + +"Because you have missed Mrs. Hillmer, and you want me to help you find +where she has gone, and why." + +The detective smiled. + +"I won't say that you are wrong, sir," he cried. "In these affairs it is +always well to keep an eye on the woman, you know." + +"When did Mrs. Hillmer leave Raleigh Mansions?" + +"On the 30th." + +"It is now February 3. Four days ago, eh?" + +"That is the time. She might have left by the American line from +Southampton or the Cunard from Liverpool on Wednesday, but she did not, +and no one answering to her description is booked by the White Star +to-morrow." + +"Southampton! Liverpool! Do you think she has gone to America?" + +"Where else? She's in league with Corbett, somehow, of that I am +certain, and I think that the Monte Carlo address was a mere blind--a +clever one, too, as it even deceived you, Mr. Bruce." + +"Yes. It did deceive me." + +"Then why are you so surprised at the suggestion that the lady should +attempt to cross the Atlantic?" + +"Because I have not your rapid perception of the points of the case." + +"That's your way of pulling my leg, Mr. Bruce." + +The barrister smiled. + +Mrs. Hillmer, of course, had gone to Monte Carlo. Once there she would +have little difficulty in tracing the _White Heather_, and overtaking +Mensmore. + +She would warn him of the police pursuit, and there would be a scene +between them. + +How would it result? Would Mensmore, guilty, seek safety in flight? +Would he, innocent, return to London and demand to be confronted with +his accusers? + +For the life of him, Bruce could not say positively. Yet he felt the +situation was too delicate to be dealt with by Mr. White's bludgeon +methods, and he forebore to speak. + +The detective interpreted his silence as an admission of inability to +find a satisfactory explanation of Mrs. Hillmer's absence. + +He went on: + +"Corbett is not at Monte Carlo." + +"So I imagined." + +"Well, it is a fact. The police have made constant inquiries for him at +the Hotel du Cercle and elsewhere. Not the slightest trace of him can be +found." + +"I was there myself, you know." + +"Yes, sir. I have not forgotten that. But it shows what a clever rascal +the fellow is in concealing his identity. However, he could never have +counted on my discovering that letter of his. Even if he is not in +America we shall have some reliable data to go upon in answer to my +queries." + +"There I fully agree with you. You will have done a great deal if you +thoroughly clear up the mystery regarding Corbett. May I ask you to let +me know the result?" + +"With pleasure, sir. And now, can I request a favor in return?" + +"Certainly." + +"Tell me, then, what is, in your opinion, the best way to find Mrs. +Hillmer." + +Bruce did not expect to be thus openly challenged on the matter. It was +one thing to withhold his own theories and discoveries from this +representative of the majesty of the law, but quite another to refuse to +help a detective with whom he was nominally working. + +Besides, Mrs. Hillmer had four days' start. It would take some +time--possibly a telegram would not be sufficiently explicit--to obtain +the desired assistance from the Continental police. Yes--in this +instance, Mensmore must take his chances. + +"If I were you," said Bruce, slowly weighing his words, "I would inquire +at the Continental booking-offices at Victoria and Charing Cross, and +from the guards in charge of the morning mail trains on the 30th. In +fact, it would be quite safe if you were to wire the authorities at +Monte Carlo, asking if Mrs. Hillmer is not now at the Hotel du Cercle." + +The detective started as though he had been shot. + +"What!" he cried, "you think she is there all the time?" + +"I think she has been there since Wednesday morning." + +"That is what I mean. Why did you not tell me sooner?" + +"Because you never asked me. And now, Mr. White, one word of advice. Go +slow." + +"It's all jolly fine telling me to go slow when I have no reason to go +fast. The case even against Corbett is shadowy enough at present." + +"Exactly. Wait until you can grasp a substance." + +"I will, sir," said White, jamming his hat on; "but when I lay my hands +on Corbett I will grasp him hard enough." + +It took the policeman all that day to satisfy himself that Mrs. Hillmer +had really booked for the Riviera by the Club train from Charing Cross +on the preceding Monday. + +Just as he verified the fact, came a reply from the Monte Carlo police: + + "Mrs. Hillmer arrived at the Hotel du Cercle on Wednesday. Left + for Italy same afternoon. Shall we endeavor to trace her?" + +"Oh, bother," he growled. "Corbett may be in Jerusalem by this time. And +here have I been fussing about Wyoming or some other potato-patch in the +Far West." + +However, he wired again to Monte Carlo: + + "Yes. Locate Mrs. Hillmer, if possible. I will then telegraph + instructions to local police." + +When this message was despatched he felt easier in his mind. + +The chase was at least getting warm. + +"I cannot arrest him yet," he reflected; "but if I once get fairly on +his track, I will not lose sight of him again if I can help it. I +suppose it will mean a trip to Italy for me. I must lay the evidence +before the Treasury to see if a warrant is justified." + +Two days passed without incident. + +Late on Sunday evening, February 5, a Continental telegram was handed to +him at Scotland Yard: + + "Mrs. Hillmer's present address, Hotel Imperiale, Florence." + +He promptly wired the Chief of Police at Florence: + + "Keep Mrs. Hillmer, English visitor, Hotel Imperiale, under + surveillance. Also watch her associates, particularly + Englishman named Corbett, if there. Letter follows." + +"That's a good stroke of business," said he, when the message was sent. +"Now we shan't be long!" + +It was in contented mood that he lit a cigar in his office, before +walking home for dinner, but a messenger with the badge of the +Commercial Cable Company in Northumberland Avenue bustled past him. + +"Who's the cable for, boy?" said the detective. + +"White, Scotland Yard," was the answer. + +"That's me." + +He tore open the envelope, and found that the contents were coded, but +he caught the word "Corbett" amidst the unintelligible jumble. + +With some excitement he rushed into the office to find the A B C Code, +and after some confusion in deciphering the words, this was what he +read: + + "Regret delay in replying to your communication. Corbett left + New York in _White Star_ steamer due Liverpool, February 4." + +"February 4? Why, that's yesterday. Good gracious, he's here all the +time. Well, of all the--" + +But exclamations were useless. Calling another plain-clothes man to +accompany him, he drove off in mad haste to Sloane Square. + +About an hour later Bruce received a typewritten slip gummed on to a +telegraph form. It was from Florence, and ran as follows: + + "My brother wildly excited regarding allegations. We start for + London to-night. Meanwhile fearful complications expected. Mr. + Corbett, of Wyoming, my brother's friend, is probably occupying + his flat, and may be arrested. We both trust you to save him. + Wire us at Modane or Gare du Nord. + + "GWENDOLINE HILLMER." + +So Bruce also raced off in a hansom towards Sloane Square. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +MR. SYDNEY H. CORBETT + + +The detective glanced up at Bruce's chambers while passing through +Victoria Street. + +"I wonder what he would think if he knew what we are after," he said to +his colleague, one of the two who accompanied him when the barrister was +arrested by mistake. + +"What _are_ we after?" said the policeman. + +"This time we are going to nail the right Corbett," was the confident +answer. + +"Will we cart him off?" + +"Well, now, that depends. I think I am quite right in collaring him +unless he explains to my satisfaction, which is hardly likely." + +"The charge is one of murder, isn't it?" + +"Yes." + +"Who did he kill?" + +"Well, up to now it hasn't come out, for the sake of the family. But if +Corbett is here you will know soon enough." + +"It's a funny way to go to work." + +"Commissioner's orders, my boy. I am not to reveal the la-- the name +until it cannot be helped. However, as I have said so much, I don't mind +telling you it's a woman, and a big one too." + +"Big! Fat, do you mean?" + +"No. A woman of high position." + +"Phew! A regular society scandal, I suppose?" + +"That's about the size of it." + +On arrival at Sloane Square they quickly ascended to No. 12 Raleigh +Mansions. + +A stout, elderly woman answered their knock, and a glance at her face +revealed the map of Ireland, although her name was Saxon Robinson. + +"Mr. Corbett in?" inquired White. + +"Faix, he's not." + +"Then where is he?" + +"I don't know, misther, an' if I did I wouldn't be afther telling when +axed in an oncivil manner." + +"All right, Mrs. ----" + +"Robinson's my name, if that's anny use to ye." + +"Very well, Mrs. Robinson. We wish to have a word with Mr. Corbett, and +we will be much obliged if you can tell us when he is likely to return, +if he is in London." + +"Arrah, it's meself is mixed intirely about him. Sure _this_ Mr. Corbett +is in London right enough, and is comin' in to dinner in half-an-hour, +so by yer lave I'll jist go on wid me wurruk." + +"May we come in and wait for him?" + +Mrs. Robinson surveyed them suspiciously, but seemingly decided in their +favor. + +"Stip in here, gintlemen both," she said, and conducted them to the +sitting-room. + +A fire now burned brightly in the grate wherein Bruce had made his +pregnant discovery. The damaged bracket still stared at White, so to +speak, but he saw it not. + +Mrs. Robinson bustled away to the kitchen, and the two officers sat +silently waiting developments. Suddenly a thought occurred to White, and +he went into the passage. + +"Mrs. Robinson," he said, "what did you mean by referring to _this_ Mr. +Corbett?" + +A quick step came bounding up the stairs, and a key rattled in the lock. + +"You'd betther ax him yerself," responded the housekeeper pithily, and +the door opened to admit a handsome, well-knit man, tall and straight, +with the clearly cut features of the true Westerner, and the easy +carriage of one accustomed to the freedom of the prairie. + +He was quietly dressed. The only sign that he was not a Londoner was +given by his wide-awake felt hat, the last token of environment +relinquished by a wandering citizen from the region of the Rockies. In +the semi-darkness of the interior he could but dimly discern the form of +the detective behind the ready-tongued housekeeper. + +"There's two gintlemen to see ye, Misther Corbett," said she. + +"Well, now, that's curious," he answered cheerfully. "I can only see one +of you, but I'm glad to have you call, stranger, anyway. Come right in. +Are you sent by my friend to kinder cheer me up? I find this big city of +yours a powerful kind of tonic after Wyoming. Come right in." + +Mr. White was as greatly nonplussed by the newcomer's attitude as by his +flow of language. + +Within the drawing-room Corbett caught sight of the second detective. +"Hello! Here's the other one. Ve-ry glad to meet you both. Now, if +you'll just tell me your names we'll get along straight away, as I guess +you know mine all right." + +The man was genuinely pleased by this unexpected visit. He smilingly +pushed towards them a box of cigars, green ones, and helped himself to a +weed. + +"My name," said the detective, "is Inspector White, of Scotland Yard, +and my friend here accompanies me officially." + +"And hasn't he got a name?" + +"Yes; but it doesn't matter." + +"Well, if it doesn't matter, we won't quarrel. I guess you've got a +message of some sort for me, else you wouldn't trouble to climb these +stairs. Why don't you have el-e-vators in these big buildings?" + +"As I said," began Mr. White, "we are from Scotland Yard." + +"That's so. I've got that fixed O.K. Your name is I. White, from +Scotland Yard. I don't know where Scotland Yard is, but we'll worry +along without the geography of it." + +"I am in the police. My title is Inspector. It is not my Christian name. +Scotland Yard is the headquarters of the London police." + +The American's eyes opened wide in wonder at this announcement, and a +perplexing thought seemed to occur to him. But he said quietly: + +"I'll figure it out better when you tell me why you've been good enough +to call. And suppose we all sit down. I'm not used to stone pavements. +I'm tired." + +"Your name is Sydney H. Corbett?" said the detective severely, though he +took a chair. + +"So my people always told me." + +"And you have occupied these chambers since August last?" + +"Have I?" + +"So I am informed." + +"Get along with your story." + +"You have just returned to England from Wyoming. The New York police +cabled me that you arrived in Liverpool yesterday." + +"Did they now? That was real cute of 'em." + +"I want to ask you, in the first instance, the exact date of your +departure from this country." + +Before replying to the detective Corbett looked at him fixedly, as +though he was trying to read what was passing in his mind. + +At last he said with a smile: + +"Say, what are you after, Mr. White of Scotland Yard? What's the game? +Who's been fooling you?" + +"That is not the way to talk to me, sir. Answer my question fully and +properly, or it may be worse for you." + +"Jehosh! Have you come to wipe the floor with me?" + +"Are you going to reply to me or not?" + +"I'm not going to speak square to any man who comes along and puts a +thing like you do." + +"Very well. I can get my information by other means. You leave me no +alternative--" + +Mr. White had half risen and was about to add, "but to arrest you," +when, with a rapidity known only to those accustomed to "draw" from +boyhood, Corbett whipped a revolver from a hip pocket and covered the +bridge of White's nose with the muzzle. + +"Just you sit still, right there, Mr. White of Scotland Yard, or I will +let daylight through you and your nameless friend if he interferes. +You'd better believe me. By gad! I won't speak twice." + +Neither White nor his companion were cowards. But they were quite +helpless. They had not grappled with the circumstances with sufficient +alertness, and they were utterly at this man's mercy. They were away +from the door, and a table separated them from Corbett, while there was +that in his eye which told them he would shoot if either of them moved. +They both sprang to their feet, and glared at him impotently. + +"Now, gentlemen," said Corbett, with the utmost coolness, "let me +persuade you to sit down again and go on with your story, which +interests me." + +White was scarlet with wrath and annoyance. + +"Let me tell you--" he roared. + +"Sit down!" + +"Make the best of it, Jim," murmured the other policeman; and the queer +gathering resumed their seats. + +"That's better," said Corbett genially. "Now, we'll have a nice little +chat. Am I correct in supposing that you were about to march me off to +jail just now, when I spoilt the proposition?" + +"There's no use in resisting," growled White. "You cannot escape. If you +have an atom of sense left you will come with us quietly, as it's all up +with you." + +"It looks like it," said Corbett, with a grim smile. "But if it's so bad +a case as all that, there's no desperate hurry, is there?" + +"You're only making matters more difficult for yourself." + +"Maybe. But as I happen to be a citizen of the United States, I allow +that I can't be whipped off to prison just because a fool like you +thinks it's good for me. I've been a law-abiding man all my life, and +I've lived in places where each man made his own law. If you can show +good cause for your action, I'll stand the racket. At present I regard +you as a blamed idiot." + +The situation overcame the detective. He could only mutter: + +"Time will show who's the idiot." + +"I'm getting hungry, Mr. White of Scotland Yard, and I've a kind of +notion that the old lady is ready with the eatables. Will you be good +enough to say what you're after?" + +"I came here to ask you to account for your movements, and, failing a +satisfactory explanation, to arrest you." + +"On what charge?" + +"For being concerned in the murder of Lady Dyke, on or about November 6 +last." + +"Lady Dyke?" + +"Yes." + +"Arrest _me_?" + +"Yes." + +"I placed you right away. You are a blamed idiot, Mr. White of Scotland +Yard." + +This repetition of his name and address goaded the detective almost +beyond endurance. + +"Now you know the charge," he shouted, "are you coming with us quietly, +or--" + +"Or what?" + +The revolver still hovered across the table. + +"Are we going to sit here all night?" + +It was a weak conclusion, but to suggest an attack was sheer madness +under the conditions. + +"I guess not," was the calm answer. "I want my dinner, and I mean to +have it." + +"Very well. Eat your dinner and have done with it." + +"That's better. You and your friend shall join me. We'll have a nice +little talk and straighten out matters, which have got kinder mixed." + +This was too much for White's associate. He burst out laughing. + +"I allowed there was a joke in the deal, somewhere," went on Corbett, +"but I haven't quite got the hang of it yet. Now, Mr. White of Scotland +Yard, are you going to act like a reasonable man, or must I keep your +nose in line with the barrel?" + +White was saved from deciding which horn of the dilemma he would land +on, for a sharp rat-tat at the door induced silence, and a moment later +Bruce's voice was heard inquiring: + +"Is Mr. Corbett in?" + +"Faix, there may be a half-a-dozen of him in by this time," cried Mrs. +Robinson. "I dunno where I am, at all, at all. The gintlemen are in the +parlor, sir." + +And Bruce entered. + +In order to enfilade the new-comer scientifically, Corbett backed to the +corner. Claude glanced at the three, saw the revolver, and said with a +comical air of relief: + +"Thank goodness, nothing has happened. Put away your pistol, Mr. +Corbett; you will not need it." + +Although the barrister's manner differed considerably from the brusque +methods adopted by Mr. White, the American remained on his guard. He +said stiffly: + +"You all seem to know me fairly well; but if you had the advantage of +closer acquaintance, you would allow that I am not the man to be rushed +on a confidence trick. If somebody doesn't explain quick I will lose my +temper, and there will be trouble." + +"I sympathize with you!" cried Bruce. "But the first thing you must +learn in this country is to keep dry cigars for your visitors. Our +respective tastes differ in that respect." + +"I guess I'll cotton to you, stranger; but I'm tired holding this +pistol." + +"Put it away, then. I tell you it is not wanted. White, listen to me. +You have hit upon the wrong man." + +"Wrong man!" cried the detective, feeling more confident in the +barrister's presence. "Why, I've had a cable about him from New York." + +"Possibly; but you're mistaken, nevertheless. Mr. Corbett has not been +within five thousand miles of England for years, possibly not in his +life." + +"Bully for you, stranger!" broke in Corbett. + +"Then who is Mr. Sydney H. Corbett whom you believe, as well as I, to be +the murderer of Lady Dyke?" + +"Steady, White. The last time I saw you I appealed to you to go slow. +The man whom you want, simply because he happens to be the real occupant +of these rooms, is at present travelling to London as fast he can from +Florence, and his sister, Mrs. Hillmer, is with him." + +"Florence! Mrs. Hillmer!" gasped the policeman. "I've just arranged to +have her watched there." + +"Your arrangements, though admirable, are somewhat late in the day." + +"Then what is her brother's name?" + +"Albert Mensmore. For some reason, hidden at this moment, he lived here +under the name of the gentleman who has, I see, been giving you a +practical lesson in the art of not jumping at conclusions." + +"Have you known this long?" + +"For some weeks." + +"Then why didn't you tell me?" + +"Because I have no definite reason for connecting Mensmore with Lady +Dyke's death. If I had, his action in returning to London the moment he +hears of the charge would shake my belief." + +"Who told him?" + +"Mrs. Hillmer." + +"Oh, this business is quite beyond me. I can't fathom it a little bit." + +And White sank dejectedly to his chair again. + +"I don't know what you're talking about, gentlemen," said Corbett, +pocketing his revolver; "but it dawns upon me that I shan't be required +to shoot anybody or sleep in jail to-night." + +"Why didn't you answer my questions properly, and save all this +nonsense?" + +"I'll tell you why, sir. The name of a friend of mine has been +mentioned. Albert Mensmore has been more than a brother to me. I allowed +you meant mischief to him, as you thought you were talking to him all +the time. I don't know much about you, but I hope that your first action +would not be to give away your chum if he is in trouble." + +The detective did not answer, though his look of astonishment at +Corbett's declaration of motive was eloquent enough. + +"Before we quit this business," went on the American, "let me say one +thing. Any man who tells you that Albert Mensmore murdered a woman is +telling you a lie. I don't know anything about this Lady Dyke, or how +she may have died, but I do know my friend. He's good in a tight place, +but, to think of him killing a woman--Jehosh, it's sickening." + +Mrs. Robinson burst in, with face aflame. + +"Is this palaverin' to go on all night?" she demanded angrily. "Here's +the dinner sphilin', after all me worry and bother, with the head of me +vexed to know who is the masther and who ishn't." + +"All right, mother," laughed Corbett. "Bring in the whole caboodle." + +"Mr. Corbett," said Bruce, "I hope you will come and have lunch with me +to-morrow, at this address," handing him a card. "I want to have a long +talk with you. Mr. White, if you come with me I will explain a good deal +to you of which you are now in ignorance." + +"Surely, Mr. Corbett will answer a few questions first," said the +detective. + +"Don't you think you have troubled him sufficiently for this evening? +Besides, he can tell us nothing. All the explanation is really due to +him, and I propose to give it to him to-morrow. Come, White, this time I +promise you that a considerable portion of your inquiry shall be cleared +up, and I do not speak without foundation, as you have often learned +hitherto." + +So the mysterious Sydney H. Corbett was left in undisturbed possession +of his flat and his dinner, while the trio passed out into the quietude +of the streets. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +HOW LADY DYKE LEFT RALEIGH MANSIONS + + +Mr. White was actually inclined to preserve silence while they walked to +Victoria Street. The events of the preceding hour had not exactly +conduced to the maintenance, in the eyes of his brother officer, of that +pre-eminent sagacity which he invariably claimed. + +His companion rubbed in this phase of the matter by saying: "I should +think, Jim, you will give Raleigh Mansions wide berth for some time to +come, after making two bad breaks there." + +But it was no part of Bruce's scheme that the detective should be +rendered desperate by repeated failures. "It is not Mr. White's fault," +he said, "that these errors have occurred. They are rather the result of +his pertinacity in leaving no clue unsolved which promises to lead to +success. When this case ends, if ever it does end, I feel sure he will +admit that he has never before encountered so much difficulty in +unravelling the most complex problems within his experience." + +"That is so," chimed in the senior detective. "The thing that beats me +in this affair is the want of a beginning, so to speak. One would +imagine it the work of a lunatic if Lady Dyke herself had not +contributed so curiously to the mystery of her disappearance." + +"There you are, White; that is the true scent. Find the motive and we +find the murderer, if Lady Dyke was wilfully put to death." + +"_If_ she was, Mr. Bruce? Have you any doubt about it?" + +"There cannot be certainty when we are groping in the dark. But the +gloom is passing; we are on the eve of a discovery." + +At Bruce's residence White's colleague left him. Soon the barrister and +the policeman were sitting snugly before a good fire. + +There Claude took him step by step through each branch of his inquiry as +it is known to the reader. + +He omitted nothing. The discovery of Jane Harding and of Mensmore, the +latter's transactions with Dodge & Co., his dramatic _coup_ at Monte +Carlo and its attendant love episode--all these were exhaustively +described. He enlarged upon Mrs. Hillmer's anxiety when the tragedy +became known to her, and did not forget Sir Charles Dyke's amazement at +the suggestion that his old playmate might prove to be responsible for +the death of his wife. + +He produced the waxen moulds of the piece of iron found on the body at +Putney, and the ornamental scroll from which it had been taken. + +At this bit of evidence Mr. White's complacency forsook him. Thus far he +had experienced a feeling of resentment against Bruce for having +concealed from him so much that was material to their investigation. + +But when he realized that a powerful link in the chain of events had all +along been placidly resting before his eyes his distress was evident, +and the barrister came to his rescue. + +"You are not to blame, White," he said, "for having failed to note many +things which I have now told you. You are the slave of a system. Your +method works admirably for the detection of commonplace crime, but as +soon as the higher region of romance is reached it is as much out of +place as a steam-roller in a lady's boudoir. Look at the remarkable +series of crimes the English police have failed to solve of late, merely +because some _bizarre_ element had intruded itself at the outset. Have +you ever read any of the works of Edgar Allan Poe?" + +The detective answered in the affirmative. "The Murders of the Rue +Morgue" and "The Mystery of Marie Roget" were familiar to him. + +"Well," went on Bruce, "there you have the accurate samples of my +meaning. Poe would not have been puzzled for an hour by the vagaries of +Jack the Ripper. He would have said at once--most certainly after the +third or fourth in the series of murders--'This is the work of an +athletic lunatic, with a morbid love of anatomy and a morbid hatred of a +certain class of women. Seek for him among young men who have pestered +doctors with outrageous theories, and who possess weak-minded or +imbecile relatives.' Then, again, take the murder on the South-Western +Railway. Do you think Poe would have gone questioning bar-tenders or +inquiring into abortive love affairs? Not he! Jealous swains do not +carry pestles about with them to slay their sweethearts, nor do they +choose a four-minutes' interval between suburban stations for frenzied +avowals of their passion. Here you have the clear trail of a clever +lunatic, dropping from the skies, as it were, and disappearing in the +same erratic manner. That is why I tell you most emphatically that +neither you nor I have yet the remotest conception as to who really +killed Lady Dyke." + +"Surely things look black now against this Mensmore?" + +"Do they? How would it have fared with an acquaintance of one of the +unfortunate women killed by Jack the Ripper had the police found him in +the locality with fresh blood-stains on his clothes? What would have +resulted from the discovery of a chemist's mortar among the possessions +of one of Elizabeth Camp's male friends? Come now, be honest, and tell +me." + +But Mr. White could only smoke in silence. + +"Therefore," continued Bruce, "let us ask ourselves why, and how, it was +possible for Mensmore to commit the crime. Personally, notwithstanding +all that we apparently know against him circumstantially, I should +hardly believe Mensmore if he confessed himself to be the murderer!" + +"Now, why on earth do you say that, Mr. Bruce?" + +"Because Mensmore is normal and this crime abnormal. Because the man who +would blow out his brains on account of losses at pigeon-shooting never +had brains enough to dispose of the body in such fashion. Because +Mensmore, having temporarily changed his name for some trivial reason, +would never resume it with equal triviality with this shadow upon his +life." + +"Then why have you told me all these things that tell so heavily against +him?" + +"In order that, this time at least, you may feel that the production of +a pair of handcuffs does not satisfactorily settle the entire business." + +"I promise there shall be no more arrests until this affair is much more +decided than it is at present." + +"Good. I shall make a detective of you after my own heart in time." + +"Yet I cannot help being surprised at the very strange fact that his own +sister should seem to suspect him!" + +"Ah! Now you have struck the true line. Why did she have that fear? +There I am with you entirely. Let us ascertain that and I promise you an +important development. Mrs. Hillmer and Mensmore are both concerned in +the disappearance of Lady Dyke, yet neither knew that she had +disappeared, and both are deeply upset by it, for Mrs. Hillmer flies off +to warn her brother, and the brother posts back to London the moment it +comes to his ears through her. There, you see, we have a key which may +unlock many doors. For Heaven's sake let it not be battered out of shape +the instant it reaches our hands." + +But Mr. White was quite humble. "As I have told you," he said, "I have +done with the battering process." + +"I am sure of it. And now listen to the most remarkable fact that has +yet come to light. Lady Dyke's body was taken from Raleigh Mansions to +Putney in a four-wheeler. The cabman was forthwith locked up by the +police and clapped into prison for three months. He was released +yesterday, and will be here within the next quarter of an hour." + +The detective's hair nearly rose on end at this statement. + +"Look here, Mr. Bruce!" he cried, "have you any more startlers up your +sleeve, or is that the finish?" + +"That is the last shot in my locker." + +"I'm jolly glad! I half expected the next thing you would say was that +you did the job yourself." + +"It wouldn't be the first time you thought that; eh, my friend?" + +White positively blushed. + +"Oh! that's chaff," he said. "But why the dickens did the police lock up +this cabman--the only witness we could lay our hands upon? Why, I myself +questioned every cabman in the vicinity several times." + +"Because he got drunk on the proceeds of the journey, and subsequently +thought he was Phaeton driving the chariot of the sun. But, there, he +will tell you himself. I met him yesterday morning outside Holloway +Jail, and persuaded him to come here to-night, provided he has not gone +on the spree again with disastrous results." + +The entrance of Smith--obviously relieved to see his master and the +"tec" on such good terms--to announce the arrival of "Mr. William +Marsh," settled any doubts as to the cabman's intentions, and his +appearance established the fact of his sobriety. Three months "hard" had +made the cab-driver a new man. + +Recognition was mutual between him and Mr. White. + +"Hello, Foxey," cried the latter. "It's you, is it?" + +"Me it is, guv'nor; but I didn't know there was to be a 'cop' +here"--this with a suspicious glance at Bruce and a backward movement +towards the door. + +"Do not be alarmed," said the barrister; "this gentleman's presence +implies no trouble for you. We want you to help us, and if you do so +willingly I will make up that lost fiver you received for driving two +people to Putney the night you were arrested." + +The poor old cabman became very confused on hearing this staggering +remark. Up to that moment he regarded Bruce as the agent for a +charitable association, and there was no harm, he told his "missus," in +trying to "knock him for a bit." + +He stood nervously fumbling with his hat, but did not answer. White knew +how to deal with him. + +"Sit down, Foxey, and have a drink. You need one to cheer you up. Answer +this gentleman's questions. He means you no harm." + +"Honor bright?" + +"Honor bright." + +"Well, I don't mind if I do. No soda, thank you, sir. Just a small drop +of water. Ah, that's better stuff 'n they keep in Holloway." + +Thus fortified, Marsh had no hesitation in telling them what he knew. +Substantially, his story was identical with the version given to Bruce +by the ticket collector. + +"Can you describe the gentleman?" said the barrister. + +"No, sir. He was just like any other swell. Tall and well-dressed, and +talked in the 'aw-'aw style. It might ha' been yerself for all I could +tell." + +"Do you think it was I?" + +Foxey scratched his head. + +"No, p'r'aps it wasn't, now I come to rec'llect. He 'ad a moustache, and +you 'aven't. Beggin' yer pardon, sir, but you 'ave a bit of the cut of a +parson or a hactor, an' this chap wasn't neither--just an every-day sort +of toff." + +"Could you swear to him if you saw him?" + +"That I couldn't, sir. I am a rare 'and at langwidge, but I couldn't +manage that." + +"Why?" + +"Because that night, sir, I were as full as a tick when I started. Lord +love you, it must 'ave poured out of me afterwards when I started +fightin' coppers. Mr. White, 'e knows, I ain't no fightin' man as a +rule." + +"And the _lady_? Did you see her?" + +"No, sir. Leastways, I seed a bundle which I took to be a lydy, but her +face was covered up with a shawl, and she was lyin' 'eavy in 'is arms +as though she was mortal bad. He tell'd me she was sick." + +"Did he? Anything else?" + +"No, sir." + +"Are you sure it was a shawl?" + +A vacuous smile spread over Foxey's countenance as he answered, "I ain't +sure of anythink that 'appened that night." + +"But were you not surprised when a man hired your cab under such +peculiar circumstances, and paid you such a high fare?" + +"We four-wheelers are surprised at nothink, sir. You don't know all wot +goes on in kebs. Why, once crossin' Waterloo Bridge--" + +"Never mind Waterloo Bridge, Foxey," put in the detective. "Keep your +wits fixed on as much as you can remember of November 6." + +"Where did he tell you to drive to?" went on Bruce. + +"Just Putney. I was to drive my 'ardest. I recollect wantin' to pull up +at the Three Bells, but 'e put 'is 'ead out an' said, 'Go on, driver. I +am awfully late already.' So on I went." + +"Where did you stop?" + +"I don't know no more than the child unborn. By that time the drink was +yeastin' up in me. The fare kept me on the road 'e wanted by shoutin'. +When we pulled up, 'e carries 'er into a lane. There was a big 'ouse +there. I know that all right. After a bit 'e comes back and tips me a +fiver. With that I whips up the old 'oss and gets back to the Three +Bells. You know the rest, as the girl said when she axed the Bench to--" + +"Yes, we know the rest," interrupted Bruce, "but I fear you are not able +to help us much." + +"This isn't a five-pun' job, eh, guv'nor?" said Foxey anxiously. + +"Hardly at present. We shall see. Can you say exactly where you drew up +your cab when the lady was carried into it?" + +"Sure as death," replied the cabman, in the hope that his information +might yet be valuable. "It was outside Raleigh Mansions, Sloane Square." + +"We know that--" + +"It seems to me, sir, as ye know as much about the business as I do," +broke in Marsh. + +"Were you in the Square or in Sloane Street?" + +"In Sloane Street, of course. Right away from the Square." + +"Not so very far away, surely." + +Foxey was doubtful. His memory was hazy, and he feared lest he should be +mistaken. "No, no," he said quickly, "not far, but still well in the +street." + +"Were there many people about?" + +"You could 'ardly tell, sir; it was that foggy and nasty. If the lydy +'ad bin dead nobody would 'ave noticed 'er that night." + +"Did any one besides yourself see the gentleman carrying the lady into +the cab?" + +"I think not. I don't remember anybody passin' at the time." + +"Did the gentleman keep your cab waiting long at the kerb before he +brought the lady out?" + +"It might 'a' bin a minute or two?" + +"No longer?" + +"Well, sir, it's 'ard for me to say, especially after bein' away for a +change of 'ealth, so to speak." + +"Did not the lady speak or move in any manner?" + +"Not so far as I know, sir." + +"And do you mean to tell me that, although you had been drinking, you +were not astonished at the whole business?" + +"I never axes my fares any questions 'cept when they says 'By the hour.' +Then I wants to know a bit." + +"Yes; but this carrying of a lady out of a house in such fashion--did +not this strike you as strange?" + +"Strange, bless your 'eart, sir. You ought to see me cartin' 'em off +from the Daffodil Club after a big night--three and four in one keb, all +blind, paralytic." + +"No doubt; but this was not the Daffodil Club at daybreak. It was a +respectable neighborhood at seven o'clock, or thereabouts, on a winter's +evening." + +"It ain't my fault," said Foxey doggedly. "Wot was wrong with the lydy? +Was it a habduction?" + +"The lady was dead--murdered, we believe." + +The cabman's face grew livid with anxiety. + +"Oh, crikey, Mr. White," he cried, addressing the detective, "I knew +nothink about it." + +"No one says you did, Foxey," was the reply. "Don't be frightened. We +just want you to help us as far as you can, and not to get skeered and +lose your wits." + +Thus reassured, Marsh mopped his head and said solemnly: + +"I will do wot lies in my power, gentlemen both, but I wish I 'adn't bin +so blamed drunk that night." + +"You say you would not recognize your fare if you saw him," continued +Bruce. "Could you tell us, if you were shown a certain person, that he +was _not_ the man? You might not be sure of the right man, but you might +be sure regarding the wrong one." + +"Yes, sir. It wasn't you, and it wasn't Mr. White, and it wasn't a lot +of other people I know. I think if I saw the man who really got into my +keb, I would be able to swear that 'e was like him, at any rate." + +"All right. That will do for the present. Leave us your address, so that +we may find you again if necessary. Here is a sovereign for you." + +When Marsh had gone, Bruce turned to the detective. + +"Well," he said, "if Mensmore were here now, I suppose you would want to +lock him up." + +"No," admitted White sadly; "the more I learn about this affair the more +mixed it becomes. Still, I don't deny but I shall be glad to have +Mensmore's explanation of his movements at that time. And so will you, +Mr. Bruce." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +A WILFUL MURDER + + +Bruce sent a telegram to Mrs. Hillmer at Paris. "Matters satisfactorily +arranged pending your arrival," he wired, and early on Monday morning he +received a reply: + + "Due Charing Cross 7.30 P.M. Will drive straight to your + chambers with my brother. + + "GWENDOLINE HILLMER." + +He forwarded the message with a note to the detective, asking him to be +present. + +About one o'clock Corbett turned up. + +"Guess I slept well last night after the excitement," he said, with a +pleasant smile. "You seemed to skeer those chaps more with a few words, +Mr. Bruce, than I did with a revolver." + +"The English police are not so much afraid of revolvers as they are of +making mistakes," was the answer. + +"Now, is that so? On our side they wouldn't have stopped to argy. Both +of 'em would have drawn on me at once." + +"Then I am glad, for everybody's sake, Mr. Corbett, that the affair +happened in London." + +"Why, sure. But tell me. Has my friend Mensmore been getting himself +into trouble?" + +"Not so much as it looks. Others appear to have involved him without +his knowledge, and he has lent color to the accusations by involuntary +actions of a suspicious nature." + +"Well, if it is permissible, I should like to hear the straight story." + +Under the circumstances, Bruce thought that this stranger from America +had a right to know why he was in danger of being arrested during his +first twenty-four hours' residence in the country, so he gave him a +succinct narrative of the _prima facie_ case against Mensmore. + +Corbett listened in silence to the recital. When it ended he said: + +"Mr. Bruce, my friend was incapable of murdering any woman. He was +equally incapable of conducting any discreditable _liaison_ with any +woman. I have known him for years, and a straighter, truer, more +honorable man I never met. I don't know what his reason was for assuming +my name, which he undoubtedly did, as the agent called this morning, and +I find the flat is taken in my name." + +"What did you say?" + +"Oh, just that Mensmore had acted for me. The man seemed a bit puzzled, +but he didn't kick when I offered to pay up the rent owing since +Christmas, and another quarter in advance." + +"I don't suppose he did. The rent was due, then?" + +"Yes. It seems that Mensmore, writing in my name, sent a letter from +Monte Carlo a month ago, saying he would return about this time and +settle up." + +"Thus proving his intention all along to come back to London. It is a +queer muddle, Mr. Corbett, is it not?" + +"Very; but you will pardon me, as an outsider, saying one thing--you all +appear to have overlooked a clear trail." + +"And what is that?" + +"What about Mrs. Hillmer? Who is she? Who are her friends? Who maintains +her in such style? Bertie was with me four years and never mentioned her +name. She could not have been rich by inheritance, as it was on account +of their father going broke that Mensmore had to leave the Army and come +to the States. It strikes me, Mr. Bruce, that the woman knows more about +this affair than the man." + +"You may be right. But do not forget the absolute proofs we possess that +the crime occurred in Mensmore's chambers, and the extraordinary +coincidence that he left England immediately afterwards." + +"I am not forgetting anything. Those facts tell both ways. Just because +he quitted the country at the time somebody may have tried to throw the +blame on him." + +The theory was plausible, though Bruce could not accept it. +Nevertheless, after Corbett had taken his departure he could not help +thinking about his references to Mrs. Hillmer. That there was force in +them he could not deny, and with the admission came the unpleasant +thought that perhaps he, Bruce, was in some sense responsible for the +neglect to clear up her antecedents. + +However, a few hours might explain much. + +With unwonted impatience the barrister awaited the coming of night. He +tried every expedient to kill time, and found each operation tedious. + +He dined early, and as half-past seven came and passed he wondered why +the detective did not appear. + +But his doubts on this point did not last long. + +"White is looking at Charing Cross to make sure of their arrival," he +said to himself. + +At ten minutes to eight the detective came in hurriedly. + +"They will be here directly," he announced. "A servant has taken their +luggage to Mrs. Hillmer's place, and they are evidently driving straight +here after taking some refreshment at the station." + +"Have you no faith in human nature, Mr. White? Could you not trust their +words?" + +"Well, sir, my experience of human nature is that you can very seldom +trust anybody's word." + +At last Smith announced Mrs. Hillmer and Mr. Mensmore. + +When they entered Bruce was for the moment at a loss to know exactly how +to receive them. + +But Mrs. Hillmer settled the matter by greeting him with a quiet +"Good-evening," and seating herself. Mensmore stood near the door, very +pale and stern-looking. + +"It appears, Mr. Bruce," he said, "that we met in Monte Carlo under +false pretences. You were, it seems, a detective on the track of a +murderer, and you were good enough to believe that I was the person you +sought. It would have saved some misconception on my part had you +explained our _roles_ earlier. However, I am here, to meet the charge." + +Claude was not unprepared for this attitude on Mensmore's part. But he +was determined that it should not continue if he could help it. + +"When we parted at Monte Carlo, Mensmore," he said, "we parted as +friends." + +"Yes." + +"Then tell me what has happened since to cause this obvious change in +your opinion of me?" + +"Is it not true that you suspect me of murdering Lady Dyke?" + +"No." + +"But why has my sister been told that I ran serious risk of being +apprehended on that account?" + +"Because we certainly did suspect a mysterious personage who called +himself Sydney H. Corbett, and whose behavior was so unaccountable that +the authorities required a reasonable explanation of it." + +"Do I understand, Bruce, that we meet with no more suspicion between us +than when we last saw each other?" + +"Most certainly." + +"Then I ask your pardon for my manner and words. I have suffered keenly +during the last three days from this cruel thought. Let us shake hands +on it." + +As their hands met they both heard Mrs. Hillmer stifle a sob. Mensmore +turned to her. + +"Now, Gwen," he said, "don't be foolish. We will soon clear up this +miserable business. So far as we are concerned, all we need to do is to +tell the truth and fear nobody." + +"That's it," said White. "If you adopt that course the matter will soon +be ended." + +Mensmore turned to the speaker. He guessed his identity, but Bruce +introduced the detective by name. + +"Well," said Mensmore, "I have come here to answer questions. What is it +you want to know?" + +Mr. White glanced at the barrister, and the other explained. + +"I have, as you may already realize, taken more than a passive interest +in this inquiry, so the questioning largely devolves on me. First, tell +me why you adopted the name of Corbett?" + +"Simply enough, though stupid, I now admit. When I returned from the +States I was very hard up, but managed to pick up a subsistence by +writing for the sporting press, and occasionally backing horses. But I +knew this could not last, so I tried to secure some financial interests +in the City. In doing so I made the acquaintance of a man named Dodge, +and committed myself to the underwriting of a new venture named the +Springbok Mine. This fell through at the time, and with this collapse +came other demands. I hate being worried by creditors, so when my sister +offered to take and furnish a flat for me, near her own, I thought I +would live quietly for a time and conceal my name so as to have peace +there at any rate. Therefore, I assumed the name of a friend in America, +little thinking that I should land both him and myself into such trouble +by doing it. That is the explanation. By the way, what has happened to +Corbett?" + +"He is all right. He expects to see you to-night. You know Sir Charles +Dyke, do you not?" + +"Yes." + +"Intimately?" + +"Well, no, not exactly. He and I were at school together at Brighton, at +Childe's place." + +"At Brighton?" + +"Yes. I was a little chap when Dyke was a senior. After he left, the +headmaster changed the school to a place called Seton Lodge, at Putney, +on account of cramming operations for Army exams." + +"Then you were at Putney?" + +"Yes, for two years." + +"And Dyke was not?" + +"No; that I am sure of." + +"Have you and Sir Charles been friendly since?" + +Mensmore's face hardened somewhat as he answered, "I have seen very +little of him, and hardly ever spoken to him." + +"Why? Did you quarrel?" + +"N-no, but we just did not happen to meet. Bear in mind, I was in +business some years ago, and I am not yet thirty." + +"Did you know his wife?" + +"I have never, to my knowledge, seen her." + +"How, then, can you account for the fact that she visited your flat at +Raleigh Mansions on November 6." + +"I say that such a statement is mere nonsense." + +"But if it can be proved?" + +"It cannot." + +"I assure you, on my honor, that it can." + +"But look here, Bruce. Why should she come to see me? I question greatly +if she knew of my existence." + +"Nevertheless, it is the fact." + +"I can only tell you it is not. I left London on November 8, and on the +two previous evenings I dined alone. Mrs. Robinson, my housekeeper, can +tell you that not another soul entered my flat for a week prior to my +departure, except my sister and--and--I had forgotten--some workmen." + +"Some workmen?" + +"Yes; some fellows from a furniture warehouse." + +"What were they doing?" + +"Well, don't you see, I told you I was not well off, and my sister +furnished my flat for me, in August last that was, but the drawing-room +was left bare for a time. Just before I left for France she decided to +refurnish her drawing-room, and she gave me the whole fit-out. The +things were brought in by the men who brought her purchases." + +At this astounding revelation Bruce and the detective were utterly taken +aback. It was with difficulty that the barrister enunciated his next +words clearly. + +"Can you tell me with absolute certainty the date of this change of the +furniture?" + +"Oh yes. It was the day before I started for the Riviera; that must have +been November 7." + +"Are you positive of this?" + +"Undoubtedly. Is it a matter of importance? Gwen, you know all about it. +Besides, the bills for your new furniture will show the exact date of +delivery, and it was the same day." + +Mrs. Hillmer's face was hidden by her veil, but she nodded silently. + +Three people in the room knew the significance of Mensmore's +straightforward words; he alone was unaware of the direction towards +which the investigation now tended. + +"Let us analyze the matter carefully," said Bruce, who had recovered his +self-possession, though he was almost terrified at the possibilities of +the situation. "Did the whole of the contents of your drawing-room come +from your sister's flat?" + +"Every stick. There was nothing there before but the bare boards." + +"Do you remember a handsome ornamental fender being among these +articles?" + +"Perfectly. My housekeeper said the men broke it during the transit. +They denied this, and looked for the piece chipped off, but could not +find it. She told me about it that night." + +"Did you mention it to Mrs. Hillmer?" + +"No. To tell the honest truth, Gwen and I had quarrelled a couple of +days before. That is to say, we disagreed seriously about a certain +matter, and it was this which led to my making off to Monte Carlo. +Therefore it was hardly likely I should mention such a trivial matter +to her." + +"May I ask what you quarrelled about?" + +"I have told her since that it ought to be made known, but she has +implored me not to reveal it, so I cannot. But she will tell you herself +that we agreed I should be at liberty to make this guarded explanation." + +Bruce and the detective exchanged glances of wondering comprehension. + +"I do not think we need question Mr. Mensmore further," said the +barrister to White. + +"No," was the reply. "The matter is clear enough. Mrs. Hillmer must tell +us how that furniture came to be transferred from her premises on the +morning of the 7th." + +"If she chooses." + +The barrister's tone was sad, and its ominous significance was not lost +on his hearers. + +Mrs. Hillmer raised her veil. Her face was deathly pale and tense in its +fixed agony. But in her eyes was a light which gave a curious aspect of +resolve to her otherwise painful aspect of utter grief. + +"I do not choose," she said quietly, looking, not at Bruce or the +detective, but at her brother. + +For a little while no one spoke. Mensmore at last broke out eagerly: + +"Don't act absurdly, Gwen. I cannot even guess where all this talk about +the furniture is leading us, but I do know that you are as innocent of +any complicity in Lady Dyke's death as I am, so it is better for you to +help forward the inquiry than to retard it." + +"I am not innocent," said Mrs. Hillmer, her words falling with painful +distinctness upon the ears of the three men. "Heaven help me! I am +responsible for it!" + +Her brother started to his feet, and caught her by the shoulder. + +"What folly is this," he cried. "Do you know what you are saying?" + +"Fully. My words are like sledge-hammers. I will forever feel their +weight. I tell you I am responsible for the death of Lady Dyke." + +"Then how did she die, Mrs. Hillmer?" said Bruce, whose glance sought to +read her soul. + +"I do not know. I do not want to know. It matters little to me." + +"In other words, you are assuming a responsibility you should not bear. +You were not even aware of this poor lady's death until I told you. Why +should you seek to avert suspicion from others merely because Lady Dyke +is shown to have met her death in your apartments?" + +"But how is it shown?" interrupted Mensmore vehemently. He was more +disturbed by his sister's unaccountable attitude than he had ever been +by the serious charge against himself. + +"Easily enough," said White, feeling that he ought to have some share in +the conversation. "A piece of the damaged fender placed in your rooms, +Mr. Mensmore, was found in the murdered lady's head." + +"Was it?" he cried. "Then, by Heaven, I refuse to see my sister +sacrificed for anybody's sake. She has borne too long the whole burden +of misery and degradation. I tell you, Gwen, that if you do not save +yourself I will save you against your will. That furniture came to my +room because--" + +"Bertie, I beseech you, for the sake of the woman you love, to spare +me." + +Mrs. Hillmer flung herself on her knees before him and caught hold of +his hands, while she burst into a storm of tears. + +Mensmore was unnerved. He turned to Bruce, and said: + +"Help me in this miserable business, old chap. I don't know what to say +or do; my sister had no more connection with Lady Dyke's death than I +had. This statement on her part is mere hysteria, arising from other +circumstances altogether." + +"That I feel acutely," said the barrister. "Yet some one killed her, +and, whatever the pain that may be caused, and whoever may suffer, I am +determined that the truth shall come out." + +"I tell you," wailed Mrs. Hillmer between her sobs, "that I must bear +all the blame. Why do you hesitate? She was killed in my house, and I +confess my guilt." + +"This _is_ rum business," growled Mr. White aloud, half unconsciously. + +At that moment the door opened unexpectedly, and Smith entered. + +Before Bruce had time to vociferate an order to his astounded servitor +the man stuttered an excuse: + +"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but Sir Charles Dyke has called, and wants +to know if you will be disengaged soon." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE LETTER + + +Quick on the heels of the footman's stammered explanation came the voice +of Sir Charles himself: + +"Sorry to disturb you, Bruce, if you are busy, but I must see you for a +moment on a matter of the utmost importance." + +There was that in his utterance which betokened great excitement. He was +not visible to the occupants of the room. During the audible silence +that followed his words, they could hear him stamping about the passage, +impatiently awaiting Bruce's presence. + +Mrs. Hillmer quietly collapsed on the floor. She had fainted. + +The barrister rushed out, calling for Mrs. Smith, and responding to Sir +Charles Dyke's proffered statement as to the reason for his presence by +the startling cry: + +"Wait a bit, Dyke. There's a lady in a faint inside. We must attend to +her at once." + +Mrs. Smith, fortunately, was at hand, and with the help of her +ministrations, Mrs. Hillmer gradually regained her senses. + +After a whispered colloquy with White, the barrister said to Mensmore: + +"You must remove your sister to her residence as quickly as possible. +She is far too highly strung to bear any further questioning to-night. +Perhaps to-morrow, when you and she have discussed matters fully +together, you may be able to send for us and clear up this wretched +business." + +For answer Mensmore silently pressed his hand. With the help of the +housekeeper he led his sister from the room, passing Sir Charles Dyke in +the hall. The baronet politely turned aside, and Mensmore did not look +at him, being far too engrossed with his sister to pay heed to aught +else at the moment. As for Mrs. Hillmer, she was in such a state of +collapse as to be practically unconscious of her surroundings. + +She managed to murmur at the door: + +"Where are you taking me to, Bertie?" + +"Home, dear." + +"Home? Oh, thank Heaven!" + +They all heard her, and even the detective was constrained to say: + +"Poor thing, she needn't have been afraid. She is suffering for some one +else." + +Sir Charles Dyke grasped Bruce's arm. + +"What on earth is going on?" he said. + +"Merely a foolish woman worrying herself about others," replied Bruce +grimly. + +"But those people were my old friends, Mensmore and his sister?" + +"Yes." + +"What are they doing here?" + +"Mensmore has been brought back to London by Mrs. Hillmer to face the +allegations made against him with regard to your wife's disappearance. +They came here by their own appointment, and--" + +"Did I not tell you that this charge against Mensmore was wild folly on +the face of it?" + +"So it seems, when we have just discovered that your wife was killed in +his sister's house, and Mrs. Hillmer persists in declaring that she was +responsible for the crime." + +"Look here, Bruce. Don't lose your head like everybody else mixed up in +this wretched business. My wife is not dead." + +"What!" The cry was a double one, for both Bruce and White gave +simultaneous utterance to their amazement. + +"It is true. She is alive all the time. I have had a letter from her." + +"A letter. Surely, Dyke--" + +"I am neither mad nor drunk. The letter reached me by this morning's +post. I came here with it as fast as I could travel. I have been in the +train all day, and am nearly fainting from hunger." + +"Where is it?" cried White. "Is it genuine?" + +"I could swear to her writing amidst a thousand letters. Here it is. I +have brought some old correspondence of hers for the purpose of +comparison, as I could hardly believe my eyes when I first received it." + +Bruce was so dumfounded by this remarkable development that he could but +mutely take the document produced by the baronet and read it. + +He himself recognized Lady Dyke's handwriting, which he had often +seen--a clear, bold, well-defined script, more like the caligraphy of a +banker than of a fashionable lady. + +The letter was dated February 1, bore no other superscription, and read +as follows: + + "_My Dear Charles_,--I have just seen in the newspapers the + announcement of my death, and the theories set on foot to + account for my disappearance on November 6. This seems to + convey to me the strange fact that you have not received the + explanation I sent you of my reasons for leaving London so + suddenly. Otherwise you must have kept your own counsel very + closely. However, I do not now desire to reopen the question of + motive; let it suffice to say that no one save myself was + responsible for my disappearance, and that neither you nor any + one acquainted with me will ever see me again. Do not search + for me; it will be time wasted. If you have legal proof of my + death and wish to marry again, be satisfied. Tear up this + letter and forget it. I am dead--to you and to the world. You + can neither refuse to accept the genuineness of this letter nor + trace me by reason of it, as I have taken such precautions that + the latter course will be impossible. Let me repeat--forget me. + + "ALICE." + +The barrister carefully refolded the sheet after scrutinizing the +water-mark against the light, and noting that the paper was British +made; he then examined the envelope. The obliterating postmark was +"London, February 4, 9 P.M., West Strand." The office of delivery was +"Wensley, February 6." + +"Posted at the West Strand Post-Office on Saturday," he said. "Detained +in London all Sunday, and delivered to you this morning in the North." + +"Exactly." + +"It was written three days earlier, if the date be accurate. So the +writer is somewhere in Europe." + +"That's how I take it," said Sir Charles. + +"Unless the whole thing is a fraud." + +"How can it be a fraud? I am sure as to the handwriting. Why, even +yourself, Bruce, must have a good recollection of my wife's style." + +"Undoubtedly. No man born could swear that this was not Lady Dyke's +production." + +"Well, what are we to do?" + +"And what did Mrs. Hillmer mean by kicking up that fuss when we spoke to +her?" interpolated White. "I'll take my oath that some one was killed in +her house, else how comes it that a woman found in the Thames at Putney +is carrying about in her head some of Mrs. Hillmer's ironwork? I wish +she hadn't fainted just now. Why, she said herself that she was the +cause of Lady Dyke's death, and here is Lady Dyke writing to say she is +alive. This business is beyond me, but Mrs. Hillmer has got to explain a +good deal yet before I am done with her." + +The detective's wrath at this check in the hunt after a criminal did not +appeal to the baronet. + +"You can please yourself, Mr. White, of course," he said coldly; "but so +far as I am concerned, I will respect my wife's wishes, and let the +matter rest where it is." + +"My dear fellow," said the barrister, "such a course is impossible. +Assuming that her ladyship is really alive, why did she leave you?" + +"How can I tell? She herself refuses to give a reason. She apparently +stated one in a letter which never reached me, as you know. She has +selfishly caused me a world of suffering and misery for three long +months. I refuse to be plagued in the matter further." + +Sir Charles was excited and angry. He was in bitter revolt against +circumstances. + +"Do you intend to show this letter to Lady Dyke's relatives?" asked +Bruce, at a loss for the time to discuss the situation coherently. + +"I do not know. What would you advise? I trust fully to your judgment. +But is it not better to obey her wishes?--to forget, as she puts it?" + +"We must decide nothing hastily. I am perplexed beyond endurance by +this business. There is so much that is wildly impossible in its +irreconcilable features. I must have time. Will you give me a copy +of the letter?" + +"Certainly, keep it yourself. We have all seen it." + +"Thank you." Bruce placed the envelope and its contents in his +pocket-book. Then, turning to the detective, he said: + +"Now, Mr. White, do me a favor. Do not worry Mrs. Hillmer until you hear +from me." + +"By all means, Mr. Bruce. But am I to report to the Commissioner that +Lady Dyke has been found, or has, at any rate, explained that she is not +dead?" + +"There is no immediate necessity why a report of any kind should be +made." + +"None." + +"Then leave matters where they are at present." + +"But why," put in Sir Charles. "Is it not better to end all inquiries, +at least so far as my wife is concerned? It is her desire, and, I may +add, my own, now that I know something of her fate." + +"Of course, if you wish it, Dyke, I have no valid objection." + +"Oh, no, no. Do not look at it in that way. I leave the ultimate +decision entirely to you." + +"In that case, I recommend complete silence in all quarters at present." + +The detective left them, and as he passed out into Victoria Street his +philosophy could find but one comprehensive dictum. "This _is_ a rum +go," he muttered, unconsciously plagiarizing himself on many previous +occasions. + +The baronet sat down, and meditatively chewed the handle of his +umbrella. + +"What is this nonsense Mensmore's sister talked about being responsible +for my wife's death?" he said. + +"I do not pretend to understand," answered Bruce. "Little more than a +week ago she learned for the first time of your wife's supposed murder. +Of that I am quite positive. She feared that her brother was implicated, +and, without trusting me with the reasons for her belief, took the +measures she thought best to safeguard him." + +"Took measures! What?" Sir Charles jerked the words out impetuously. + +"She followed him to the South of France, and found him in Florence. +What she said I cannot guess, but the result was their visit here +to-night. During our interview it came out, quite by accident, that some +furniture was taken from her place to her brother's on the morning of +November 7, thus shifting the venue of Lady Dyke's death--or imaginary +death I must now say--from No. 12 Raleigh Mansions to No. 61. This +discovery was as startling to Mrs. Hillmer as to us, for she forthwith +protested that the whole affair arose from her fault, and practically +asked the detective to arrest her on the definite charge of murder." + +"Pooh! The mania of an hysterical woman!" + +"Possibly!" + +"Why 'possibly'? No one was murdered in her abode. Do you for a moment +believe the monstrous insinuation?" + +"No, not in that sense. But her brother was about to make some +revelation regarding a third person when she appealed to him not to +speak. What would have happened finally I do not know. At that critical +moment my servant announced your arrival." + +"But what can Mrs. Hillmer have to conceal? She and her brother have +been lost to Society since long before my marriage. Neither of them, so +far as I know, has ever set eyes on my wife during the last seven +years." + +"Yet Mrs. Hillmer _must_ have had some powerful motive in acting as she +did." + +"Is it not more than likely that she had a bad attack of nerves?" + +"A woman who merely yields to nervous prostration behaves foolishly. +This woman gave way to emotion, it is true, but it was strength, not +weakness, that sustained her." + +"What do you mean?" + +"There is but one force that sustains in such a crisis--the power of +love. Mrs. Hillmer was not flying from consequences. She met them +half-way in the spirit of a martyr." + +"'Pon my honor, Bruce, I am beginning to think that this wretched +business is affecting your usually clear brain. You are accepting +fancies as facts." + +"Maybe. I confess I am unable to form a logical conclusion to-night." + +"Why not abandon the whole muddle to time? There is no solution of a +difficulty like the almanac. Let us both go off somewhere." + +"What, and leave Mrs. Hillmer to die of sheer pain of mind? Let this +unfortunate fellow, Mensmore, suffer no one knows what consequences from +the events of to-day? It is out of the question." + +"Very well, I leave it to you. Every one seems to forget that it is I +who suffer most." The baronet stood up and dejectedly gazed into the +fire. + +"I, at least, can feel for you, Dyke," said Bruce sympatherically, "but +you must admit that things cannot be allowed to remain in their present +whirlpool." + +"So be it. Let them go on to their bitter end. If my wife was tired of +my society she might at least have got rid of me in an easier manner." + +With this trite reflection Sir Charles quitted his friend's house. + +Bruce sat motionless for a long time. Then, as his mind became calmer, +he lit a cigar, took out the doubly mysterious letter, and examined it +in every possible way, critically and microscopically. + +There could be no doubt that it was a genuine production. The condition +of the ink bore out the correctness of the date, and the fact that the +note paper and envelope were not of Continental style was not very +material. + +It did not appear to have been enclosed in another envelope, as the +writer implied, for the purpose of being re-posted in London. Rather did +the slightly frayed edges give rise to the assumption that it had been +carried in some one's pocket before postage. But this theory was vague +and undemonstrable. + +The handwriting was Lady Dyke's; the style, allowing for the strange +conditions under which it was written, was hers; yet Bruce did not +believe in it. + +Nothing could shake his faith in the one solid, concrete certainty that +stood out from a maze of contradictions and mystery--Lady Dyke was dead, +and buried in a pauper's grave at Putney. + +At last, wearied with thought and theorizing, he went to bed; but Smith +sat up late to regale his partner with the full, true, and particular +narrative of the "lydy a-cryin' on her knees, and the strange gent +lookin' as though he would like to murder Mr. White." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE HANDWRITING + + +Like most men, Claude took a different view of events in the morning to +that which he entertained over night. + +Yesterday, the surprises of the hour were concrete embodiments, each +distinct and emphatic. To-day they were merged in the general mass of +contradictory details that made up this most bewildering inquiry. + +That matters could not be allowed to rest in their present state was +clear; that they would, in the natural course of things, reveal +themselves more definitely, even if unaided, was also patent. + +Mrs. Hillmer's partial admissions, her brother's evident knowledge of +some salient features of the puzzle, that utterly strange letter in the +admitted handwriting of Lady Dyke herself, and bearing the prosaic +testimony of dates stamped by the Post-office--these sensational +elements, when brought into juxtaposition, could not avoid reaction into +clearer phases. + +Long experience in criminal investigation told him that, under certain +circumstances, the best course of all was one of inactivity. + +On the basis of the accepted truism in the affairs of many people that +"letters left unanswered answer themselves," the barrister knew that +there must be an outcome from the queer medley of occurrences at his +residence on the Monday evening. + +Reviewing the history of the past three months several odd features +stood out from the general jumble. + +In the first place, he wondered why he had failed to deduce any +pertinent fact from the manner in which Mrs. Hillmer's dining-room was +furnished on the occasion of his first visit to Raleigh Mansions. + +He distinctly remembered noting his reception in an unusual room +littered with unusual articles, when the luxurious and well-appointed +suite of apartments was considered as a whole. It was suggested to him +at the time that the drawing-room, which he saw during his second visit, +was dismantled earlier, but he did not connect this trivial incident +with the feature in Mensmore's flat that he noted immediately--namely, +the discrepancies between the arrangement of the sitting-room and the +other chambers in the place. + +These things were immaterial now, but he indexed them as a guide for +future use. + +Lady Dyke's motive for that secret visit to Raleigh Mansions--that was +the key to the mystery. But how to discover it? Who was her confidant? +To whom could he turn for possible enlightenment? It was useless to +broach the matter again to her husband. The baronet and his wife had +been friends sharing the same _menage_ rather than husband and wife. Her +relatives had already been appealed to in vain. They knew nothing of the +slightest value in this search for truth. + +In this train of thought the name of Jane Harding cropped up. She was +the personal maid of the deceased lady. She had sharp eyes and quick +wits. Her queer antics shortly after the inquest were not forgotten. +Here at least was a possibility of light if the girl would speak. + +If she refused what could be her motive? + +Anyhow it was worth while to make a fresh effort. Early in the afternoon +he called at the stage-door of the Jollity Theatre. + +"Is Miss Marie le Marchant still employed here?" he asked the attendant. + +"I dunno," was the careless answer. + +"Well, think hard," said the barrister, laying a half-crown on the +battered blotting-pad which is an indispensable part of the furniture in +the letter bureau of a theatre. + +"Yes, sir, I believe she is, but she has been away on a week's leave." + +"Indeed. Has she returned?" + +"I was off last night, sir, but if you will pardon me a moment I'll +inquire from the man who took my place." + +The stage-doorkeeper disappeared into the dark interior, to return +quickly with the information that Miss le Marchant had appeared as usual +on Monday night. + +"She was away most part of last week, sir," added the man, "and I +believe it wasn't a holiday, as she was a-sort of flurried about it as +if some one was ill." + +"Thank you. Do you know where she lives?" + +A momentary hesitation was soon softened by another half-crown. + +"It's against the rules, sir. If you were to find yourself near Jubilee +Buildings, Bloomsbury, you would not be far out." + +The information was sound. Miss Marie le Marchant's name was painted +outside a second-floor flat. + +Bruce knocked, and the door was opened by an elderly woman whom he had +no difficulty in recognizing. + +"Is your daughter in, Mrs. Harding?" he said. + +For a moment she could not speak for surprise. + +"Well, I never," she cried, "but London is a funny place. Do you know +me, sir?" + +"Any one would recognize you from your daughter, if they did not take +you for her elder sister," he said. Bruce's smile was irresistible. + +"My daughter is not in just now, sir," replied Mrs. Harding, "but I +expect her in to tea almost immediately." + +"Then may I come in and await her arrival?" + +"Certainly, sir." + +Once inside the flat, he was impressed by the pretentious but fairly +comfortable nature of its appointments; the ex-lady's maid's legacy must +have been a nice one to enable her to live in such style, as the poor +pittance of a coryphee would barely pay the rent and taxes. Moreover, +the presence of her mother in the establishment was a distinct factor in +her favor. + +Mrs. Harding had brought the visitor to the tiny sitting-room. She +seated herself near the window and resumed some sewing. + +"Have you been long in town, Mrs. Harding?" he said, by way of being +civil. + +"In London, do you mean, sir? About two months. Ever since my daughter +got along so well in her new profession. She's a good girl, is my +daughter." + +"Miss Harding is doing well on the stage, then?" + +"Oh yes, sir. Why, she's been earning L6 a week, and last week she was +sent for on a special engagement, which paid her so well that she's +going to buy me a new dress out of the money." + +"Really," said the barrister, "you ought to be proud of her." + +"I am," admitted the admiring mother. "I only wish her brother, who +went off and 'listed for a sojer, had turned out half as well." + +Mrs. Harding nodded towards a photograph of a cavalry soldier in uniform +on the mantelshelf, and Bruce rose to examine it, inwardly marvelling at +the intelligence he had just received. Was it reasonable that the girl +could be the recipient of a legacy without the knowledge of her mother? +In any case, why did she conceal the real nature of her earnings? The +story about "L6 a week" was a myth. + +Near to the portrait of the gallant huzzar was a large plaque +presentment of Miss Marie herself, in all the glory of tights, wig, and +make-up. Across it was written, in the best theatrical style, "Ever +yours sincerely, Marie le Marchant." And no sooner had Bruce caught +sight of the words than he almost shouted aloud in his amazement. + +The handwriting was identical with that of Lady Dyke. + +Gulping down his surprise, he devoured the signature with his eyes. The +resemblance was truly remarkable. What on earth could be the explanation +of this phenomenon. + +"Your daughter is a remarkably nice writer, Mrs. Harding," he said, +turning the photograph towards her. + +"Yes," said the complacent mother, "she taught herself when--before she +went on the stage. She was always a clever girl, and when she grew up +she improved herself. I wasn't able to afford her much schooling when +she was young." + +"I have seldom seen a nicer hand," he went on. "Have you any other +specimens of her writing? I should like to see them if they are not +private." + +The smooth surface of the photograph might perhaps lend a deceptive +fluency to the pen. He wanted to make quite sure that he was not +mistaken. + +"Oh yes. She's just copying out the part of Ophelia in _Hamlet_. And she +acts it beautiful." + +Mrs. Harding handed over a large MS. book, and there, written on the +first page, was the name of the luckless woman whose fatal passion has +moved millions to tears. + +He admired Miss Marie le Marchant's efforts in the matter of +self-culture, but he was determined, once for all, to wrest from her +some explanation of her actions. + +The rattle of a key in the outer door caused him to throw aside the +coveted "part," and the young lady herself entered. A few weeks of stage +experience had given her a more stylish appearance. There was a +"professional" touch in the arrangement of her hat and the droop of her +skirt. + +She knew him instantly, and listened with evident anger to her mother's +explanation that "this gentleman has just called to see you, dear." + +"All right, mother," she cried. "I see it is Mr. Bruce. Will you get tea +ready while I talk with him? I shall be ready in two minutes." This with +a defiant look at the visitor. + +When Mrs. Harding quitted the room her daughter said in the crisp +accents of ill-temper: + +"What do you want with me, now?" + +"I want to ask why you dared to write a letter to Sir Charles Dyke in +the name of your dead mistress." + +The answer was so direct, the tone so menacing, its assumption of +absolute and unquestioned knowledge so complete, that for a moment Marie +le Marchant's assurance failed her. + +She stood like one petrified, with eyes dilated and breast heaving. At +last she managed to ejaculate: + +"I--I--why do you ask me that question?" + +"Because I must have the truth from you this time. You are playing a +very dangerous game." + +That he was right he was sure now beyond doubt. It was impossible for +the girl to deny it with those piercing eyes fixed on her, and seeming +to read the secrets of her heart. + +Yet she was plucky enough. Although she was confused and on the point of +bursting into tears, she snapped viciously: + +"I will tell you nothing. Go away." + +"You are obstinate, I know," said Bruce, "but I must warn you that you +are juggling with edged tools. You should not imagine that you can +trifle with murder. What is your motive for deliberately trying to +conceal Lady Dyke's death? If you do not answer me you may be asked the +question in a court of law." + +"You have no right to come here annoying me!" she retorted. + +"I am not here to annoy you. I come, rather, as a friend, to appeal to +you not to incur the grave risk of keeping from the authorities +information which they ought to possess." + +"What information?" + +"The reasons which led you to leave Sir Charles Dyke's house so +suddenly, the source from which you obtain your money, paid to you, +doubtless, to secure your silence, the motive which impelled you to use +your ability to imitate her ladyship's handwriting in order to spread +the false news that she is alive. This is the information needed, and +your wilful refusal to give it constitutes a grave indictment." + +"I don't care _that_ for you, Mr. Bruce," replied the girl, her face set +now in a scarlet temper, while she snapped her fingers to emphasize the +words. "You can do and say what you like, I will tell you nothing." + +"You cannot deny you wrote that letter to Sir Charles Dyke last +Saturday?" + +"I am waiting for my tea. Sorry I can't ask you to join me." + +"Your flippancy will not avail you. See, here is the letter itself--your +own production--written on paper of which you have a quantity in this +very room." + +The shot was a bold one, and it very nearly hit the mark. She was +staggered, almost subdued by this melodramatic production of the +original, and his clever guess at the existence of similar notepaper in +the house. + +But her dogged temperament saved her. Jane Harding was British, +notwithstanding her penchant for a French-sounding name, and she would +have died sooner than beat a retreat. + +"I will thank you to leave me alone, Mr. Bruce," she said. + +There was nothing for it but to retire as gracefully as possible, but +the barrister was more than satisfied with the result of his visit. He +had now established beyond a shadow of doubt that for some reason which +he could not fathom the ex-lady's maid not only knew of her mistress's +death, but wished to conceal it. + +This desire, too, had the essential feature of every other branch of the +inquiry; it grew to maturity long after the day when Lady Dyke was +actually killed. What did it all mean? + +From Bloomsbury he strolled west to Portman Square, and found Sir +Charles on the point of going for a drive in the Park. + +He briefly told him his discovery. + +The baronet at first was sceptical. "Do you mean to say, Claude," he +cried, fretfully, "that I do not know my wife's writing when I see it?" + +"You may think you do, but when another person can imitate it exactly, +of course, you may be deceived. Besides, if this girl, as is probable, +was helped in her education by your wife, what is more likely than that +Jane Harding should seek to copy that which she would consider the ideal +of excellence. Don't harbor any delusions in the matter, Dyke. The +letter you received on Monday morning was written by Jane Harding. I am +sure of that from her manner no less than from the accidental +resemblance of the two styles of handwriting. What I could not find out +was her motive for the deceit." + +"It is a queer business altogether," said Sir Charles wearily; "I wish +it were ended." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +MISS PHYLLIS BROWNE INTERVENES + + +Bruce was quite positive in his belief that Jane Harding was the paid +agent of some person who wished to conceal the facts concerning Lady +Dyke's death. + +Her unexpected appearance in the field at this late hour, no less than +the bold _role_ she adopted, proved this conclusively. But in England +there was no torture-chamber to which she might be led and gradually +dismembered until she confessed the truth. + +So long as she adhered to the policy of pert denial she was quite safe. +The law could not touch her, for the chief witness against her, Sir +Charles Dyke, was obviously more than half-inclined to admit the +genuineness of the letter, even in opposition to the superior judgment +of his friend. + +Yet it was a matter which Bruce considered ought to be made known to the +police, so he sent for Mr. White and told him of the strange result of +his interview with Miss Marie le Marchant. + +"Dash everything!" cried the detective, when he heard the news. "I made +a note sometime ago that that girl ought to be watched, but I clean +forgot all about it." + +"Remember," said Bruce, "that my discovery was the result of pure +accident. My object in visiting her was to endeavor to induce her +confidence with regard to Lady Dyke's former life and habits. Indeed, I +handled the business very badly." + +"I don't see that, sir. You got hold of a very remarkable fact, and thus +prevented the success of a bold move by some one which, in my case at +any rate, nearly choked me off the inquiry." + +"True. Thus far, chance favored me. But I ought to have been content +with the assumption. There was no need to frighten her by pressing it +home." + +"Oh, from that point of view--" began the detective. + +But Bruce was merely thinking aloud--rough-shaping his ideas as they +grouped themselves in his brain. + +"Perhaps I am wrong there too," he went on. "If this girl is working to +instructions she would have refused to help me in any way, and she +already knows that I am on the trail. There is one highly satisfactory +feature in the Jane Harding adventure, Mr. White." + +"And what is that?" + +"The person, or persons, responsible for Lady Dyke's death know that the +matter has not been dropped. They are inclined to think that the circle +is narrowing. In some of our casts, Mr. White, we must have come so +unpleasantly close to them, that they deemed it advisable to throw us +off the scent by a bold effort." + +"No doubt you are right, sir, but I wish to goodness I knew when we were +'warm,' as I am becoming tired of the business. Every new development +deepens the mystery." + +The detective's face was as downcast as his words. + +"Surely not! The more pieces of the puzzle we have to handle the less +difficult should be the final task of putting them together." + +"Not when every piece is a fresh puzzle in itself." + +"Why, what has disconcerted you to-day?" + +"Mrs. Hillmer." + +"What of her?" + +"I have had another talk with the maid,--her companion, you know,--a +girl named Dobson. It struck me that it was advisable to know more about +Mrs. Hillmer than we do at present." + +Bruce made no comment, but he could not help reflecting that Corbett, +the stranger from Wyoming, had entertained the same view. + +"Well," continued the detective, "I went about the affair as quietly as +possible, but the maid, though willing, could not tell me much. Mrs. +Hillmer, she thinks, married very young, and was badly treated by her +husband. Finally, there was a rumpus, and she went on the stage, while +Hillmer drank himself to death. He died a year ago, and they had been +separated nearly five years. He was fairly well-to-do, but he squandered +all his money in dissipation and never gave her a cent. Three years last +Michaelmas she set up her present establishment at Raleigh Mansions, and +there she has been ever since." + +"Then where does the money come from? It must cost her at least L2,000 a +year to live." + +"That's just what the maid can't tell me. Her mistress led a very +secluded life, and was never what you could call fast, though a very +pretty woman. During this time she had only one visitor--a gentleman." + +"Ah!" + +"It sounds promising, but it ends in smoke, so far as I can see." + +"Why?" + +"This gentleman was a Colonel Montgomery--an old friend--though he +wasn't much turned thirty, the maid says. He interested himself a lot in +Mrs. Hillmer's affairs, looked after some investments for her, and was +on very good terms with her, and nobody could whisper a word against the +character of either of them. He was never there except in the afternoon. +On very rare occasions he took Mrs. Hillmer, whose maid always +accompanied them, to Epping Forest, or up the river, or on some such +journey." + +"Go on!" + +"I'm sorry, sir, but the chase is over. He's dead." + +"Dead?" + +"Yes. The maid doesn't know how, or when, exactly, but one day she found +her mistress crying, and when she asked her what was the matter, Mrs. +Hillmer said, 'I've lost my friend.' The maid said, 'Surely not Colonel +Montgomery, madam?' and she replied, 'Yes.' She quite took on about it." + +"Had the maid no idea as to the date of this interesting occurrence?" + +"Only a vague one. Sometime in the autumn or before Christmas. By Jove, +yes; it escaped me at the time, but she said that soon after the +Colonel's death another gentleman called and took her mistress out to +dinner. I was so busy thinking about the colonel that I slipped the +significance of that statement. It must have been you, Mr. Bruce." + +"So it seems." + +The barrister's active brain was already assimilating this new +information. If a woman like Mrs. Hillmer had lost a dear and valuable +friend--one who practically formed the horizon of her life--she would +certainly have worn mourning for him. It was a singular coincidence that +Mrs. Hillmer "lost" Colonel Montgomery about the same time that Lady +Dyke disappeared. Detective and maid alike had drawn a false inference +from Mrs. Hillmer's words. + +"We must find Colonel Montgomery," he said, after a slight pause. + +"Find him!" + +"Yes." + +"I hope neither of us is going his way for some time to come, Mr. +Bruce," laughed the policeman. + +"White, I shall never cure you from jumping at conclusions. Upon your +present evidence Colonel Montgomery is no more dead than you are." + +"But the maid said--" + +"I don't care if fifty maids said. There are many more ways of 'losing' +a friend than by death. Pass me the Army List, on that bookshelf behind +you there." + +A brief reference to the index, and Bruce said: + +"I thought so. There is no _Colonel_ Montgomery. There are several +captains and lieutenants, and a Major-General who has commanded a small +island in the Pacific for the last five years, but not a single colonel. +White, you have blundered into eminence in your profession." + +"I'm glad to hear it, even as you put it, Mr. Bruce. But I don't see--" + +"I know you don't. If you did, a popular novelist would write your life +and style you the English Lecocq. Mrs. Hillmer 'lost' the gallant +colonel at the same time that the world 'lost' Lady Dyke. Find the +first, and I am much mistaken if we do not learn all about the second." + +"Now I wonder if you are right." + +The detective's eyes sparkled with animation. It was the first real clue +he had hit upon, and Bruce's method of complimenting him on the fact did +not disconcert him. + +"Of course I am right. You have done so well with the maid that I leave +her in your hands. Try the coachman and the cook. But keep me informed +of your progress." + +White rushed off elated. So persistent was he in striving to elucidate +this new problem that he paid no heed during some days to the side-light +furnished by Jane Harding and her exceedingly curious powers as a +letter-writer. + +Bruce purposely left the inquiry to the policeman. + +He realized intuitively that the disappearance of Lady Dyke would soon +be explained, but he shrank from subjecting Mrs. Hillmer to further +questioning. + +His abstinence was rewarded later in the week, for Mensmore came to see +him. The young man wore an expression of settled melancholy which +surprised the barrister greatly. + +"Have you prevailed on your sister to take us into her confidence?" he +said, when Mensmore was ensconced in a chair in his cosy sitting-room. + +"No. She is more fixed than ever in her resolve to take the whole blame +on herself." + +"Surely this mistaken idea can be shaken?" + +"I fear not." + +"And you also share it?" + +"I do. Bear with us, Bruce. This is a terrible business. It has broken +me up utterly." + +"Nonsense. You are in no way concerned save to shield your sister, and +no one credits her wild statements regarding her complicity in this +crime." + +"Look here, my dear fellow, I have come to ask you if this investigation +cannot be allowed to rest. It means a lot of misery that you cannot +foretell or prevent. Knowing what I do, I cannot believe that Lady Dyke +was murdered." + +"Knowing what I do, I cannot accept any other conclusion. A worthy and +estimable lady leaves her home suddenly, without the slightest imaginary +cause, and she is found in the Thames with a piece of iron driven into +her brain, while the medical evidence is clear that death was not due to +drowning. What other inference can be drawn than that she was foully +done to death?" + +"Heaven help me, I cannot tell. Yet I appeal to you to let matters rest +where they are if it is possible." + +"It is not possible. I cannot control the police. I am merely a private +agent acting on my own responsibility and on behalf of Lady Dyke's +relatives." + +"Don't misunderstand me, Bruce. I am not asking this thing on account of +my sister or myself." + +"On whose account, then?" + +Mensmore did not answer for a moment. He looked mournfully into the fire +for inspiration. + +"Perhaps I had better tell you," he said, "that I have broken off my +engagement with Miss Browne." + +The other jumped from his chair. + +"What the dickens do you mean?" he cried. + +"Exactly what I have said. When we met on Monday night, I did not +mention that Sir William and Lady Browne and their daughter travelled +back to England with us. On Tuesday I saw Phyllis. In view of the shadow +thrown on me by this frightful charge I thought it my duty to release +her from any ties. If my sister has to figure in a court of law as a +principal, or accomplice, in a murder case--and possibly myself with +her--I could not consent to associate my poor Phyllis's name with mine. +So I took the plunge." + +"You are a beastly idiot," shouted Bruce. "If I had the power I would +give you six months' hard labor this moment. Who ever threatened to put +you or your sister in the dock?" + +"You have done your best that way, you know." + +"I?--I have shielded you throughout!" + +"I feel that. But your admission shows that I am right. Shielded us from +what? From arrest by the police, of course." + +"But why take this precipitate action? What has Lady Dyke's death to do +with your marriage to Miss Browne?" + +"That's it, Bruce. I cannot explain. I must endure silently." + +"Did you give her any reason for your absurd resolution?" + +"Yes. I could have no secrets from her." + +"Did you inflict all this wretched story on a woman you loved and hoped +to marry?" + +"You may be as bitter as you like. That is my idea of square dealing, at +any rate. What other pretext could I invite for--for giving her up?" + +Mensmore found it hard to utter the words. In his heart Bruce pitied +him, though he raged at this lamentable issue of the only bright passage +in the whole story of death and intrigue. + +"And what did Miss Browne say?" + +"Oh, she just pooh-poohed the affair, and pretended to laugh at me, +though she was crying all the time." + +"A nice kettle of fish you have made of it," growled the barrister. "You +help your sister in her folly of silence and then proceed to give effect +to it by ruining your own happiness and that of your affianced wife. +Have you seen Miss Browne since?" + +"No." + +His visitor was so utterly disconsolate that Bruce was at a loss to +know how to deal with him. He felt that if Mensmore would but speak +regarding Mrs. Hillmer's strange delusion, and the cause of it, all +these difficulties and disasters would disappear. He resolved to try a +direct attack. + +"Have you ever heard of a Colonel Montgomery?" he said suddenly, bending +his searching gaze on the other's downcast face. + +The effect was electrical. Mensmore was so taken back that he was +spellbound. He looked at Claude, the picture of astonishment, before he +stammered: + +"I--you--who told you about him?" + +"He was your sister's friend, adviser, and confidant," was the stern +reply. "He it is who, in some mysterious way, is bound up with Lady +Dyke's disappearance." + +Mensmore rose excitedly. + +"I cannot discuss the matter with you," he cried. "I have given my +sacred promise, and no matter what the cost may be I will not break my +word." + +"I do not press you. But may I see Mrs. Hillmer again? When she is +calmer I might reason with her." + +The other placed his hand on Bruce's shoulder, and his voice was very +impressive, though shaken by strong emotion: + +"Believe me," he said, "it is better that you should not see her. It +will be useless. She is leaving London, not to avoid consequences, but +to get away from painful memories. Her departure will be quite open, and +her place of residence known to any one who cares to inquire. One thing +she is immovable in. She will never reveal to a living soul what she +knows of Lady Dyke's death. She would rather suffer any punishment at +the hands of the law." + +"Don't you understand that this man, Montgomery, is now known to the +police. Sooner or later he will be found and asked to explain any +connection he may have had with the crime. Why not accomplish quietly +that which will perforce be done through the uncompromising channels of +Scotland Yard?" + +"Your reasoning appears to be good, but--" + +"But folly must prevail?" + +"Put it that way if you like." + +"So this wretched imbroglio may cost you the love of a charming and +devoted girl?" + +"Heaven help me, it may--probably will." + +"I swear to you," cried the barrister, who was unusually excited, "that +I will tear the heart out of this mystery before the week expires." + +Mensmore bowed silently and would have left the room, but Smith entered. +In their distraction they had not heard the bell ring. Smith handed a +card to his master. Instantly Bruce controlled himself. His admiration +for the dramatic sequence of events overcame his eagerness as an actor. +It was with an appreciative smile that he said, without the slightest +reference to Mensmore: + +"Show the lady in." + +Mensmore was passing out, but the sight of the visitor drove him back as +though he had been struck. It was Phyllis Browne. + +Her recognition of him was a bright smile. She advanced to Bruce, saying +pleasantly: + +"I am glad to meet you, though the manner of my call is somewhat +unconventional. I heard much of you from Bertie in the Riviera, and more +since my return to town." + +He suitably expressed his delight at this apparition. Mensmore, not +knowing what to do, stood awkwardly at the other end of the room. + +Neither of the others paid the least heed to him. + +"Of course I had a definite object in coming to see you, Mr. Bruce," +went on the young lady. "I have been coolly told that, because somebody +killed somebody else some months ago, a young gentlemen who asked me to +be his wife, is not only not going to marry me but intends to spend the +rest of his life in Central Africa or China--anywhere in fact but where +I may be." + +"A most unwise resolve," said the barrister. + +"So I thought. You appear to hold the key to the situation; and, as it +is an easy matter to trace you through the Directory, here I am. My +people think I am skating at St. James's." + +"Well, Miss Browne," said Claude, "I am neither judge nor jury nor +counsel for the prosecution, but there is the culprit. I hand him over +to you." + +"Yes; but that goose didn't kill anybody, did he?" + +"No." + +"And I am sure his sister did not; from what little I saw of her she +would not hurt a fly." + +"Quite true." + +"Then why don't you find the man who caused all the +mischief--and--and--lock him up at least, so that he cannot go on +injuring people?" + +Miss Phyllis was very brave and self-confident at the outset. Now she +was on the verge of tears, for Mensmore's saddened face and depressed +manner unnerved her more than his passionate words at their last +interview. + +"You ask me a straight question," replied Bruce, though his eyes were +fixed on Mensmore, "and I will give you a straight answer. I _will_ find +the man who killed Lady Dyke. As you say, it is time his capacity for +doing injury to others should be limited. Before many days have passed +Mr. Mensmore will come to you and beg your pardon for his hasty and +quite unwarranted resolve." + +"Do you hear that, Bertie?" cried the girl. "Didn't I tell you so?" + +Mensmore came forward to her side of the table. + +"I need not wait, Phil, dear," he said simply. "I ask your pardon now. +This business is in the hands of Providence. I was foolish to think that +anything I could do would stave off the inevitable." + +"And if you have--to go--to China--you w-will take me with you?" + +Bruce looked out of the window, whistled, and said loudly, addressing a +beautiful lady in short skirts who figured in a poster across the way: + +"Let me ring for some tea. All this talk makes one dry." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +LADY HELEN MONTGOMERY'S SON + + +When the young people had gone--Mensmore ill at ease, though tremuously +happy that Phyllis had so demonstrated her trust in him, Phyllis herself +radiantly confident in the barrister's powers to set everything +right--Bruce devoted himself to the task of determining a new line for +his energies. + +The first step was self-evident. He must ascertain if the Dykes knew a +Colonel Montgomery. + +He drove to the Club frequented by Sir Charles, but the baronet was not +there, so he went to Wensley House. + +Sir Charles was at home, in his accustomed nook by the library fire. He +looked ill and low-spirited. The temporary animation he had displayed +during the past few weeks was gone. If anything, he was more listless +than at any time since his wife's death. + +"Well, Claude," he said wearily, "anything to report?" + +"Yes, a good deal." + +"What is it?" + +"I want to ask you something. Did you ever know a Colonel Montgomery, or +was your wife acquainted with any one of that name to your knowledge?" + +"I do not think she was. Had she ever met such a man I should probably +have heard of him. Who was he?" + +The baronet's low state rendered his words careless and indefinite, but +his friend did not wish to bother him unduly. + +"The police have discovered," he said, "that Mrs. Hillmer formed a close +intimacy with some one whom she designated by that name and rank, though +I have failed to trace any British officer who answers to his +description. He disappeared, or died, as some people put it, about the +same time as your wife." + +"Is it not known what became of him, then?" + +"No." + +"Won't Mrs. Hillmer tell you?" + +"She absolutely refuses to give any help, whatever." + +"On what ground?" + +"That is best known to herself. My theory is that a man she loves is +implicated in the affair, and she is prepared to go to any lengths to +shield him." + +"Ah!" + +Sir Charles bent over and poked the fire viciously. Then he murmured: +"Women are queer creatures, Bruce. We men never understand them until +too late. My wife and I did not to all appearance care a jot for one +another while she lived. Yet I now realize that she loved me, and I +would give the little remaining span of existence, dear as life is, to +see her once more." + +This was a morbid subject; the younger man tried to switch him off it. + +"It is almost clear to me," he said, "that Colonel Montgomery's name was +assumed. Few people realize the use of the _alias_ made in modern life. +I have a notion that the custom among otherwise honorable people has +arisen from the publicity given to the fact that Royal and other +distinguished personages frequently choose to conceal their identity +under less known territorial titles." + +"The idea is ingenious. We are all slaves to fashion." + +"However that may be, it should not be a difficult task to lay hands on +the gentleman should he be still living." + +"Suppose you succeed. How can you connect him with my wife's death?" + +"At this moment I am unable to say. But the cabman might be of some +use." + +"The cabman. What cabman?" + +"Did I omit that? I ought to have told you that I have found the driver +of the four-wheeler in which your poor wife was taken, dead or +insensible, from Sloane Square to Putney." + +"What an extraordinary thing!" + +"What is?" + +"That you should have forgotten to inform me of such a striking fact." + +"Not so. Now that I recollect, I have not had the opportunity. It was +impossible to discuss anything else but that forged letter on the last +two occasions we met, and it was only a few hours prior to your visit on +Monday that I got the cabman's story fully. By the way, do you now see +any reason why Jane Harding should have tried to deceive you in such a +manner?" + +The barrister perceived that Sir Charles was nervous and irritable, so +he deemed it a needless strain to enlarge on the history of his +discovery of Foxey. + +"I am tired of letters, and plots, and mysteries. My life is resolving +into one huge note of interrogation. Soon the great question of eternity +will dominate all others." + +Dyke's mood unfitted him for sustained conversation. Bruce could but +pity him, and hope that time would calm his fevered brain, and soothe +the unrest that shed this gloom over him. + +"Really," said Claude, after a long interval, during which both men +sought inspiration from the dancing flames in the fireplace, "really +this is too bad of you, Dyke. You showed a marked improvement for a +little space, and now you are letting yourself slip back into a state of +lonely and unoccupied moping again." + +"My thoughts find me both occupation and company," was the despondent +reply. + +"There is nothing for it," continued Bruce cheerfully, "but a tour round +the world. You must start immediately. A complete change of scene and +surroundings will soon pull you back to a normal state of mind and +health." + +"I have been thinking of a long journey for some time past." + +The barrister glanced sharply at his friend. The _double entente_ was +not lost on him. Dyke was in a depressed and nervous condition. The +uncertainty regarding his wife's fate was harassing him unduly and it +was with a twinge of conscience that Bruce reflected upon his own +eagerness to pursue a quest which, by very reason of its indefiniteness, +attracted him as an intellectual pursuit. + +"Look here," he cried, on the spur of the moment, "I have long desired +to see the Canadian Pacific route. Will you arrange to start West with +me a fortnight hence? We can return when the spirit moves us." + +"We will see. We will see. To-day I feel unable to decide anything." + +"Yes, I know, but the mere fact that you take the resolution will serve +to reanimate you." + +"It is very good of you, Claude, to trouble so about me. Had you asked +me earlier I might have gone straight away. But let it rest for a little +while. When I have recovered my spirits somewhat I will come to you to +ask you to sail next day, or something of the sort." + +Beyond this, the other could not move him. + +There was one link in the chain of evidence that would be irrefragable +if discovered. Was this "Colonel Montgomery" in any way connected with +the house at Putney where the murderer had disposed of the body? If this +could be established, the unknown visitor to Raleigh Mansions would +experience a good deal of difficulty in clearing himself of suspicion. +Bruce was certain that, once the "Colonel" was traced, much would come +to light explanatory of Mrs. Hillmer's, and her brother's, dread lest +his identity should be discovered. + +An inquiry addressed to the house agents to whom possible tenants were +referred elicited the information that the present owner, a lady, was +prepared to let the house annually or on a lease. They enclosed an order +to view, which Bruce retained in case he should happen to need it. + +A second letter gave him the address of the lady's solicitors, Messrs. +Small & Sharp, Lincoln's Inn. + +He called on them as a possible tenant, with a desire to purchase the +property outright if his proposal could be entertained. + +Mr. Sharp, the partner who dealt with the estate, became very suave when +the suggestion reached his ears. + +"You will understand, Mr. Bruce, that your request requires some +consideration. The rent my client asks is comparatively low, because the +house is old-fashioned, but the splendid riparian position of the +property, a free-hold acre on the banks of the Thames at Putney, gives +it a highly increased future value. Any figure you may have based on a +rental calculation would therefore--" + +"Not meet the case at all," said the barrister, repressing a smile at +the familiar opening move in the game of bargaining. + +"Precisely." + +"May I ask who the present owner is?" + +"Certainly, the lady's name is Small. In fact, she is my partner's wife. +Her father, the late Rev. Septimus Childe, purchased the estate some +years ago, largely because the house suited his requirements as the head +of a successful private school." + +"Has the estate changed hands frequently then?" + +"Oh, dear, no. Indeed, it is well understood that the Rev. Mr. Childe +acquired it more as a friendly transaction than otherwise. The estate is +a portion of the separate estate of the late Lady Helen Montgomery, who +married Sir William Dyke, father of the present baronet, who +perhaps--good gracious, my dear sir, what is the matter?" + +Had Bruce been a woman he must have fainted. + +As it was, the shock of the intelligence nearly paralyzed him. Sir +Charles Dyke!--Montgomery!--The house at Putney the property of his +mother! What new terror did not this frightful combination suggest? + +Why did his friend conceal from him these most important facts? Why +did he pretend ignorance not only of the locality but of his mother's +maiden name? Like lightning the remembrance flashed through Bruce's +troubled brain that he had only heard of the earlier Lady Dyke as a +daughter of the Earl of Tilbury. A suspicion--profoundly horrible, yet +convincing--was slowly mastering him, and every second brought further +proof not only of its reasonableness, but of its ghastly and inflexible +certainty. + +Again the lawyer's voice reached his ears, dully and thin, as though it +penetrated through a wall. + +"Surely, you feel ill? Let me get you some brandy." + +"No--no," murmured the barrister. "It is but a momentary faintness. I--I +think I will go out into the fresh air. Are you--quite sure--that Mr. +Childe bought the property from Lady Helen Montgomery's trustees?" + +"Quite sure. If you wait even a few moments I will show you the +title-deeds." + +"No, thank you. I will call again. Pray excuse me." + +Somehow Bruce crossed the quiet square of the Inn, and plunged into +the turmoil of the street. Amid the bustle of Holborn he had a +curious sensation of safety. The fiend so suddenly installed in his +consciousness was less busy here suggesting strange and maddening +thoughts. + +Why--why--why--fifty questions beat incessantly against the barrier of +agonized negation he strove to set up, but the noise of traffic made +the attack confused. Each incautious bump against a passer-by silenced +a demand, each heavy crunch of a 'bus on the gravel-strewed roadway +temporarily silenced a doubt. + +He was so unmanned that he felt almost on the verge of tears. He +absolutely dared not attempt to reason out the fearful alternative which +had so fiercely thrust itself upon him. + +At last he became vaguely aware that people were staring at him. Fearful +lest some acquaintance should recognize and accost him he hailed a +hansom and drove to Victoria Street. + +All the way the heavy beat of the horse's feet served to distract his +thoughts. He forced himself to count the quick paces, and tried hard to +accommodate the numerals of two or more syllables to the rapidity of the +animal's trot. He failed in this, but in the failure found relief. + +Nevertheless, though the horse was willing and the driver eager to +oblige a fare who gave a "good" address, the time seemed interminable +until the cab stopped in front of his door. + +Once arrived there, he slowly ascended the stairs to his own flat, told +Smith to pay the cabman half-a-crown and to admit no one, and threw +himself into a chair. + +At last he was face to face with the troublous demon who possessed him +in Lincoln's Inn, struggled with him through the crowd, and travelled +with him in the hansom. Phyllis Browne should have her answer sooner +than he had expected. + +The man who murdered Lady Dyke was her own husband. + +"Oh, heavens!" moaned Bruce, as he swayed restlessly to and fro in his +chair, "is it possible?" + +He sat there for hours. Smith entered, turned on the lights and +suggested tea, but received an impatient dismissal. + +After another long interval Smith appeared again, to announce that Mr. +White had called. + +"Did you not say I was out?" said Claude, his hollow tones and haggard +air startling his faithful servitor considerably. + +"Yes, sir--oh yes, sir. But that's no use with Mr. White. 'E said as 'ow +'e were sure you were in." + +"Ask him to oblige me by coming again--to-morrow. I am very ill. I +really cannot see him." + +Smith left the room only to return and say: "Mr. White says, sir, 'is +business is of the _hutmost_ himportance. 'E can't leave it; and 'e says +you will be very sorry afterwards if you don't see 'im now." + +"Oh, so be it," cried Bruce, turning to a spirit-stand to seek +sustenance in a stiff glass of brandy. "Send him in." + +Quite awed by circumstances, Smith admitted the detective and closed the +door upon the two men, who stood looking at each other without a word of +greeting or explanation. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +MR. WHITE'S METHOD + + +The policeman spoke first. "Has Jane Harding been here, then?" he said. + +His words conveyed no meaning to his hearer. + +They were so incongruous, so ridiculously unreasoning, that Bruce +laughed hysterically. + +"You must have seen her," cried the detective excitedly. "I know you +have learned the truth, and in no other way that I can imagine could it +have reached you." + +"Learnt what truth?" + +"That Sir Charles Dyke himself is at the bottom of all this business." + +"Indeed. How have you blundered upon that solution?" + +"Mr. Bruce, this time I am right, and you know it. It was Sir Charles +Dyke who killed his wife. Nobody else had anything else to do with it, +so far as I can guess. But if you haven't seen Jane Harding, I wonder +how you found out." + +"You are speaking in riddles. Pray explain yourself." + +"If Sir Charles Dyke had not been out of town, the riddle would have +been answered by this time in the easiest way, as I should have locked +him up." + +"Excellent. You remain faithful to tradition." + +"Mr. Bruce, please don't try to humbug me, for the sake of your friend. +I am quite in earnest. I have come to you for advice. Sir Charles Dyke +is guilty enough." + +"And what do you want me to do?" + +"To help me to adopt the proper course. The whole thing seems so +astounding that I can hardly trust my own senses. I spoke hastily just +now. I would not have touched Sir Charles before consulting you. I was +never in such a mixed-up condition in my life." + +Whatever the source of his information, the detective had evidently +arrived at the same conclusion as Bruce himself. There was nothing for +it but to endeavor to reason out the situation calmly and follow the +best method of dealing with it suggested by their joint intelligence. +Claude motioned the detective to a chair, imposed silence by a look, and +summoned Smith. He was faint from want of food. With returning +equanimity he resolved first to restore his strength, as he would need +all his powers to wrestle with events before he slept that night. + +Mr. White, nothing loth, joined him in a simple meal, and by tacit +consent no reference was made to the one engrossing topic in their +thoughts until the table was cleared. + +"And now, Mr. White," demanded the barrister, "what have you found out?" + +"During the last two days," he replied, "I have been unsuccessfully +trying to trace Colonel Montgomery. No matter what I did I failed. I got +hold of several of Mrs. Hillmer's tradespeople, but she always paid her +bills with her own cheques, and none of them had ever heard of a Colonel +Montgomery. That furniture business puzzled me a lot--the change of the +drawing-room set from one flat to another on November 7, I mean. So I +discovered the address of the people who supplied the new articles to +Mrs. Hillmer--" + +"How?" + +"Through the maid, Dobson. Mrs. Hillmer has given her notice to leave, +and the girl is furious about it, as she appears to have had a very easy +place there. I think it came to Mrs. Hillmer's ears that she talked to +me." + +"I see. Proceed." + +"Here I hit upon a slight clue. It was a gentleman who ordered the new +furniture, and directed the transfer of the articles replaced from No. +61 to No. 12 Raleigh Mansions. He did this early in the morning of +November 7, and the foreman in charge of the job remembered that there +was some bother about it, as neither Mrs. Hillmer nor Mr. Corbett, as +Mensmore used to be called, knew anything about it. But the gentleman +came the same morning and explained matters. It struck the foreman as +funny that there should be such a fearful hurry about refurnishing a +drawing-room, for the gentleman did not care what the cost was so long +as the job was carried out at express speed. Another odd thing was that +Mrs. Hillmer paid for the articles, though she had not ordered them nor +did she appear to want them. The man was quite sure that Mensmore's +first knowledge of the affair came with the arrival of the first batch +of articles from Mrs. Hillmer's flat, but he could only describe the +mysterious agent as being a regular swell. He afterwards identified a +portrait of Sir Charles Dyke as being exactly like the man he had seen, +if not the man himself." + +"How did you come to have a portrait of Sir Charles in your possession?" + +"That appears later," said the detective, full of professional pride at +the undoubtedly smart manner in which he had manipulated his facts once +they were placed in order before him. + +"Of course," he went on, "I jumped at the conclusion that the stranger +was this Colonel Montgomery. Then, while closely questioning the maid +about the events of November 7, she suddenly remembered that she lost an +old skirt and coat about that time. They had vanished from her room, and +she had never laid eyes on them since. This set me thinking. I +confronted her with the clothes worn by Lady Dyke when she was found in +the river, and I'm jiggered if Dobson didn't recognize them at once as +being her missing property. Now, wasn't that a rum go?" + +"It certainly was," said Bruce, who was piecing together the story of +the murder in his mind as each additional detail came to light. + +"Naturally I thought harder than ever after that. It then occurred to me +that Jane Harding must have had some powerful reasons for so suddenly +shutting up about the identification of her mistress's underclothing. +She was right enough, as we know, in regard to the skirt and coat, but +she admitted to me that the linen on the dead body was just the same as +Lady Dyke's. Curiously enough, it was not marked by initials, crest, or +laundry-mark, and I ascertained months ago that owing to some fad of her +ladyship's, all the family washing was done on the estate in Yorkshire. +This explained the absence of the otherwise inevitable laundry-mark." + +"Thus far you are coherence itself." + +"Well," said Mr. White complacently, "I was a long time getting to work, +Mr. Bruce, and had it not been for your help I should probably never +have got at the truth, but I flatter myself that, once on the right +track, I seldom leave it. However, as I was saying, I felt that Jane +Harding knew a good deal more than she would tell, except under +pressure, so I decided to put that pressure on." + +"In what way?" + +"I frightened her. Played off on her a bit of the stage business she is +so fond of. This afternoon I placed a pair of handcuffs in my pocket and +went to her place at Bloomsbury, having previously prepared a bogus +warrant for her arrest on a charge of complicity in the murder of Lady +Dyke." + +"It was a dangerous game!" + +"Very. If it had gone wrong and reached the ears of the Commissioner or +got into the papers, I should have been reduced or dismissed. But what +is a policeman to do in such cases? I was losing my temper over this +infernal inquiry and never obtaining any real light, though always +coming across startling developments. It had to end somehow, and I took +the chance. The make-believe warrant and the production of handcuffs for +a woman--they are never used, you know, in reality--have often been +trump-cards for us when everything else failed." + +"This time, then, the 'properties' made up the 'show,' as Miss Harding +would put it?" + +"They did, and no mistake. I gave her no time to think or act. I found +her sitting with her mother, admiring a new carpet she had just laid +down. I said, 'Is your name Jane Harding, now engaged at the Jollity +Theatre, under the alias of Marie le Marchant, but formerly a maid in +the service of Lady Dyke?' She grew very white, and said 'Yes,' while +her mother clutched hold of her, terrified. Then I whipped out the +warrant and the cuffs. My, but you should have heard them squeal when +the bracelets clinked together. 'What has my child done?' screamed the +mother. 'Perhaps nothing, madam,' I answered; 'but she is guilty in the +eyes of the law just the same if she persists in screening the guilty +parties.' Jane Harding was trembling and blubbering, but she said, 'It +is very hard on me. I have done nothing.' I trembled myself then, as I +feared that she might offer to come with me to the police station, in +which case I should have been dished. But the mother fixed the affair +splendidly. 'I am sure my daughter will not conceal anything,' she said, +'and it is a shame to disgrace her in this way without telling what it +is you want to know.' I took the cue in an instant. 'I am empowered,' I +said, 'to suspend this warrant, and perhaps do away with it altogether, +if she answers my questions fully and truthfully.' 'Why, of course she +will,' said the mother, and the girl, though desperately upset, +whimpered her agreement. With that I got the whole story." + +"Sir Charles Dyke inspired her actions, I suppose." + +"From the very beginning almost. At first Jane Harding herself believed, +when she gave evidence at the inquest, that the body she saw was not +that of Lady Dyke; but afterwards she changed her opinion, especially +when she recalled the exact pattern and materials of the underclothing. +Then my inquiries put her on the scent. Being rather a sharp girl, she +jumped to the conclusion that Sir Charles knew more about the matter +than he professed. In any case, her place was gone, and she would soon +be dismissed, so she resolved on a plan even bolder than mine in +threatening to lock her up. She watched her opportunity, found Sir +Charles alone one day, and told him that from certain things within her +knowledge, she thought it her duty to go to the police-station. He was +startled, she could see, and asked her to explain herself. She said that +her mistress had been killed, and she might be able to put the police on +the right track. He hesitated, not knowing what to say; so she hinted +that it would mean a lot of trouble for her, and she would prefer, if +she had L500, to go to America, and let the matter drop altogether. He +told her that he did not desire to have Lady Dyke's name brought into +public notoriety. Sooner than to allow such a thing to occur he would +give her the money. An hour later he handed her fifty ten-pound notes." + +"What a wretched mistake," cried Bruce involuntarily. This unmasking of +his unfortunate friend's duplicity was the most painful feature of all +to him. + +"Perhaps it was," replied the detective, "but the thing is not yet quite +clear to me. That is why I am here. But to continue. The girl admitted +that she lost her head a bit. Instead of leaving the house openly, +without attracting comment, she simply bolted, thus giving rise to the +second sensational element attending Lady Dyke's disappearance. But she +resolved to be faithful to her promise. When you found her she held her +tongue, and even wrote to Sir Charles to assure him that she had not +spoken a word to a soul. He sent for her, and pitched into her about not +going to America, but took her address in case he wished to see her +again." + +"He recognized her letter-writing powers, no doubt." + +"Evidently. She was surprised last Thursday week to receive a telegram +asking her to meet him at York Station. When she arrived there he asked +her to write the letter he handed to you and to post it in London on +Saturday evening. He explained that his action was due to his keen +anxiety to shield his wife's name, and that this letter would settle the +affair altogether. As he handed her another bundle of notes, and +promised to settle L100 a year on her for life, she was willing enough +to help him. During your interview with her you guessed the reason why +she wrote Lady Dyke's hand so perfectly. She had copied it for three +years." + +"All this must have astonished you considerably?" + +"Mr. Bruce, astonished isn't the word. I was flabbergasted! Once she +started talking I let her alone, only rattling the handcuffs when she +seemed inclined to stop. But all the time I felt as if the top of my +head had been blown off." + +"I imagine she had not much more to tell you?" + +"She pitched into you as the cause of all the mischief, and went so far +as to say that she was sure it was not Sir Charles who killed Lady Dyke, +but you yourself." + +Bruce winced at Jane Harding's logic. Were he able to retrieve the past +three months the mystery of Lady Dyke's death would have remained a +mystery forever. + +"Now about the photograph," said the detective. "After I had left Jane +Harding with a solemn warning to speak to no one until I saw her again, +I made a round of the fashionable photographers and soon obtained an +excellent likeness of Sir Charles. I showed it to Dobson, and she said: +'That is Colonel Montgomery.' I showed it to the foreman of the +furniture warehouse, and he said: 'That is the image of the man who +ordered Mrs. Hillmer's suite.' Now, what on earth is the upshot of this +business to be? I called at Wensley House, but was told Sir Charles was +not in town. Had he been in, I would not have seen him until I had +discussed matters with you." + +"That is very good of you, Mr. White. May I ask your reason for showing +him this consideration?" + +The policeman, who was very earnest and very excited, banged his hand on +the table as he cried: + +"Don't you see what all this amounts to? I have no option but to arrest +Sir Charles Dyke for the murder of his wife." + +"That is a sad conclusion." + +"And do you believe he killed her?" + +"Strange as it may seem to you, I do not." + +"And I'm jiggered if I do either." + +"I--I am greatly obliged to you, White." + +Claude bent his head almost to his knees, and for some minutes there was +complete silence. When he again looked at the detective there were tears +in his eyes. + +"What can we do to unravel this tangled skein without creating untold +mischief?" he murmured. + +"It beats me, sir," was the perplexed answer. "But when I came in I +imagined that Jane Harding or some one had been to see you. Surely, you +had learned something of all this before my arrival?" + +"Yes, indeed. I had reached your goal, but by a different route. +Unfortunately, my discovery only goes to confirm yours." + +Bruce then told him of his visit to the lawyer's office, and its result. +Mr. White listened to the recital with knitted brows. + +"It is very clear," he said, when the barrister had ended, "that Lady +Dyke was killed in Mrs. Hillmer's flat, that Sir Charles knew of her +death, that he himself conveyed the body to the river bank at Putney, +and that ever since he has tried to throw dust in our eyes and prevent +any knowledge of the true state of affairs reaching us." + +"Your summary cannot be disputed in the least particular." + +"Well, Mr. Bruce, we must do _something_. If you don't like to +interfere, then _I_ must." + +"There is but one person in the world who can enlighten us as to the +facts. That person obviously is Sir Charles Dyke himself." + +"Unquestionably." + +Bruce looked at his watch. It was 10.30 P.M. He rose. + +"Let us go to him," he said. + +"But he is not in London." + +"He is. I expect you will find that he gave orders for no one to be +admitted, and told the servants to say he had left town to make the +denial more emphatic." + +"It will be a terrible business, I fear, Mr. Bruce." + +"I dread it--on my soul I do. But I cannot shirk this final attempt to +save my friend. My presence may tend to help forward a final and full +explanation. No matter what the pain to myself, I must be present. Come, +it is late already!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +SIR CHARLES DYKE'S JOURNEY + + +The streets were comparatively deserted as they drove quickly up +Whitehall and crossed the south side of Trafalgar Square. It is a common +belief, even among Londoners themselves, that the traffic is dense in +the main thoroughfares at all hours of the night until twelve o'clock +has long past. + +But to the experienced eye there is a marked hiatus between half-past +nine and eleven o'clock. At such a time Charing Cross is negotiable, +Piccadilly Circus loses much of its terror, and a hansom may turn out of +Regent Street into Oxford Street without the fare being impelled to +clutch convulsively at the brass window-slide in a make-believe effort +to save the vehicle from being crushed like a walnut shell between two +heavy 'buses. + +Such considerations did not appeal to the barrister and his companion on +this occasion. + +For some inexplicable cause they both felt that they were in a desperate +hurry. + +A momentary stoppage at the turn into Orchard Street caused each man to +swear, quite unconsciously. Now that the supreme moment in this most +painful investigation was at hand they resented the slightest delay. +Though they were barely fifteen minutes in the cab, it seemed an hour +before they alighted at Wensley House, Portman Square. + +In response to an imperative ring a footman appeared. Instead of +answering the barrister's question as to whether Sir Charles was at home +or not, he said: "You are Mr. Bruce, sir, aren't you?" + +"Yes." + +"Sir Charles is at home, but he retired to his room before dinner. He is +not well, and he may have gone to bed, but he said that if you came you +were to be admitted. I will ask Mr. Thompson." + +"Better send Thompson to me," said Bruce decisively; and in a minute the +old butler stood before him. + +"I hear that Sir Charles has retired for the night," said Claude. + +Thompson had caught sight of the detective standing on the steps. A few +hours earlier he had himself told him that the baronet was out of town. +It was an awkward dilemma, and he coughed doubtingly while he racked his +brains for a judicious answer. + +But Bruce grasped his difficulty. "It is all right, Thompson. Mr. White +quite understands the position. Do you think Sir Charles is in bed?" + +"I will go and see, sir. He was very anxious that you should be sent +upstairs if you called. But that was when he was in the library." + +Bruce and the detective entered the hall, the butler closed the door +behind them, and then solemnly ascended the stairs to Sir Charles Dyke's +bedroom, which was situated on the first floor along a corridor towards +the back of the house. + +They distinctly heard the polite knock at the door and Thompson's query, +"Are you asleep, Sir Charles?" + +After a pause, there was another knock, and the same question in a +slightly louder key. + +Then the butler returned, saying as he came down the stairs: + +"Sir Charles seems to be sound asleep, sir." + +Bruce and the detective exchanged glances. The barrister was +disappointed, almost perturbed, but he said: + +"In that case we will not disturb him. Sir Charles does not often retire +so early." + +"No, sir. I have never known him to go to his room so early before. He +told me not to serve dinner, as he wasn't well. He would not let me get +anything for him. He just took some wine, and I have not seen him +since." + +"Since when?" + +"About 7.30, sir." + +Bruce turned to depart, but Thompson, with the privilege of an old +servant when talking to one whom he knew to be on familiar terms with +his master, whispered: + +"That there blessed maid turned up again this afternoon, sir." + +The barrister started violently. + +"Not Jane Harding, surely?" + +"Yes, sir. She came at four o'clock and asked for Sir Charles, as bold +as brass." + +"Did he see her?" + +"Oh yes, sir." + +"Do you hear that, White?" + +The detective nodded. + +"She must have reached the house about half-an-hour before me," he said, +addressing the butler. + +"That's about right, sir." + +"But I understood," went on Bruce, "that Sir Charles was not at home to +ordinary callers?" + +Thompson shuffled about somewhat uneasily. He wished now he had held his +tongue. + +"I had my orders, sir," he murmured, in extenuation of his apparently +diverse actions. + +"Tell me what your orders were," persisted Bruce. + +The man hesitated, not wishful to offend his master's friend, but too +well trained to reveal the explicit instructions given him by Sir +Charles Dyke. + +"Do not be afraid. I will explain everything to Sir Charles personally. +We cannot best judge what to do--whether to wake him or not--unless we +know the position," went on the barrister. + +Thus absolved from blame, Thompson took from his waistcoat pocket a +folded sheet of notepaper. + +"I don't pretend to understand the reason, sir," he said, "but Sir +Charles wrote this himself, and told me to be careful to obey him +exactly." + +The barrister eagerly grasped the note and read: + + "If Mr. Bruce, Jane Harding, or Mrs. Hillmer should call, admit + any of them immediately. To all others say that I have left + town--some days ago, should they ask you. + + "C. D." + +White, round-eyed and bullet-headed, gazed with goggle orbs over Bruce's +shoulder. + +"That settles it, Mr. Bruce," he said. "We _must_ see him." + +"Thompson," said Bruce, "does Sir Charles usually lock his door?" + +"Never, sir." + +"Very well. Knock again, and then try the door. We will go with you." + +Something in the barrister's manner rather than his words sent a cold +shiver down the old butler's spine. + +"I do hope there's nothing wrong, sir," he commenced; but Bruce was +already half-way up the stairs. Both he and White guessed what had +happened. They knew that poor Thompson's repeated summons at the bedroom +door would remain forever unanswered--that the unfortunate baronet had +quitted the dread certainties of this world for the uncertainties of the +next. + +They were not mistaken. A few minutes later they found him listlessly +drooping over the side of the chair in which he was seated, partly +undressed, and seemingly overcome at the moment when he was about to +take off his boots. + +On a table near him were two bottles, both half-emptied, and an empty +wineglass. Each of the bottles bore the label of a well-known chemist. +One was endorsed "Sleeping-draught," the other "Poison," and "Chloral." + +The three men were pale as the limp, inanimate form in the chair while +they silently noted these details. Bruce raised the head of his friend +in the hope that life might not yet be extinct. But Sir Charles Dyke had +taken his measures effectually. Though the _rigor mortis_ had not set +in, he had evidently been dead some time. + +Thompson, quite beside himself with grief, dropped to his knees by his +master's side. + +"Sir Charles!" he wailed. "Sir Charles! For the love of Heaven, speak to +us. You can't be dead. Oh, you can't. It ain't fair. You're too young to +die. What curse has come upon the house that both should go?" + +Bruce leaned over and shook the old butler firmly by the shoulder. + +"Thompson," he said impressively, for now that the crisis he feared had +come and gone, he exercised full control over himself. "Thompson, if you +ever wished to serve Sir Charles you must do so now by remaining calm. +For his sake, help us, and do not create an unnecessary scene." + +Governed by the more powerful nature, the affrighted man struggled to +his feet. + +"What shall I do?" he whimpered. "Shall I send for a doctor?" + +"Yes; say Sir Charles is very ill. Not a word to a soul about what has +happened until we have carefully examined the room." + +At that instant Mr. White caught sight of a large and bulky envelope, +which had fallen to the floor near the chair on which Sir Charles was +seated. + +Picking it up, he found it was addressed, "Claude Bruce, Esq. To be +delivered to him _at once_." + +"This will explain matters, I expect," said the detective. + +"Whatever could have come to my master to do such a thing?" groaned +Thompson, turning to reach the door. + +"Come back," cried Bruce sharply. "Now, look here, Thompson," he went +on, placing both his hands on the butler's shoulders and looking him +straight in the eyes, "it is imperative that you should pull yourself +together. That sort of remark will never do. Sir Charles has simply +taken an over-dose of chloral accidentally. He has slept badly ever +since Lady Dyke's death, you understand, and has been in the habit of +taking sleeping-draughts. Now, before you leave the room tell me exactly +what has happened, in your own language." + +"I can't put it together now, sir, but I won't say anything to anybody. +You can trust me for that. Why, I loved him as my own son, I did." + +"Yes, I know that well. But remember. An over-dose. An accident. Nothing +else. Do you follow me?" + +"Quite, sir. Heaven help us all." + +"Very well. Now send for the doctor, without needlessly alarming the +other servants." + +Bruce placed the envelope in the pocket of his overcoat, saying to the +detective: + +"We will examine this later, White. Just now we must do what we can to +avoid a scandal. The case between Lady Dyke and her husband will be +settled by a higher tribunal than we had counted upon." + +"It certainly _looks_ like an accident, Mr. Bruce," was the answer, "but +it all depends upon the view the doctor takes. And you know, of course, +that I shall have to report the actual facts to my superiors." + +"That is obvious. Yet no harm is done at this early stage in taking such +steps as may finally render undue publicity needless. It may be +impossible; but on the other hand, until we have heard Sir Charles's +version, contained, I suppose, in this letter to me, it is advisable to +sustain the theory of an accidental death." + +"Anything I can do to help you will be done," replied the detective. +With that they dropped the subject, and more carefully scrutinized the +room. + +To all intents and purposes Sir Charles Dyke might, indeed, have brought +about the catastrophe inadvertently. The sleeping-draught bore the +ledger number of its prescription, and there is nothing unusual in a +patient striving to help the cautious dose ordered by a physician by the +addition of a more powerful nostrum. + +His partly dressed state, too, argued that he had taken the fatal +mixture at a time when he contemplated retiring to rest forthwith. A +fire still burned in the grate. On the mantelpiece--in a position where +the baronet must see it until the moment when all things faded from his +vision--was a beautiful miniature of his wife. + +The detective, with professional nonchalance, soon sat down. There was +nothing to do but await the arrival of the doctor, and, having heard his +report, go home. + +In the quietude of the room, with the strain relaxed, Bruce was +profoundly moved by the spectacle of his dead friend. Whatever his +logical faculties might argue, he could not regard this man as a +murderer. If Lady Dyke met her death at his hand then it must have been +the result of some terrible mistake--of some momentary outburst of +passion which never contemplated such a sequel. + +Poisons which kill by stupefaction do not distort their victims as in +cases where violent irritants are used. Sir Charles Dyke seemed to live +in a deep sleep, exhausted by toil or pain--sleep the counterfeit of +death--while the bright colors and speaking eyes of the miniature +counterfeited life. Standing between these two--both the mere images of +the man and the woman he had known so well--the barrister insensibly +felt that at last they had peace. + +It was his first experience of the tremendous change in the relationship +established by death. It utterly overpowered him. No mere words could +express his emotions. Between him and those that had been was imposed +the impenetrable wall of eternity. + +A bustle in the hall beneath aroused him from his grief-stricken stupor, +and Mr. White's commonplace tones sounded strange to his ears. + +"Here's the doctor." + +A well-known physician hastened to the room. Thompson had carefully +followed instructions. The doctor was not prepared for the condition of +affairs that a glance revealed to his practised eye. + +"Surely he is not dead?" he cried, looking from the form in the chair to +the two men. + +Bruce answered him: + +"Yes, for some hours, I fear, but we wanted to avoid spreading +unnecessary rumors until--" + +"I understand. My poor friend! How came this to happen?" + +The skilled practitioner merely lifted one of the dead man's eyelids, +and then turned to examine the bottles on the table. + +"My own prescription," he said, after tasting the contents of one phial. +"Ah, this was bad; why did he not consult me?" and he sadly shook his +head as he tasted the remaining liquid in the second. + +"What do you make of it?" said Bruce. + +He looked the other steadily in the face and the doctor interpreted the +cause of his anxiety. + +"A clear case of accidental poisoning," he replied. "Sir Charles has +consulted me several times during the past week on account of his +extreme insomnia. I specifically warned him against overdoing my +treatment. Change of air, exercise, and diet are the true specifics for +sleeplessness, especially when induced, as his was, by a morbid state of +mind." + +"You mean--" + +"That Sir Charles has never recovered from the shock of his wife's +death. I did not know of it myself until it was announced recently, and +I gathered from him that the manner of her demise was partly unaccounted +for. Altogether, it is a sad business that such a couple should be taken +in such a manner." + +Mr. White was industriously taking notes the while, and the doctor +regarded him with a questioning look. + +"This gentleman is in the police," explained Bruce. + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes. We came here by mere accident. Mr. White and I were engaged in an +important inquiry--the cause of Lady Dyke's disappearance, in fact--and +we hurried here at a late hour to consult with Sir Charles. Hence our +presence and this discovery." + +"How strange!" + +"There is no reason now," broke in the detective, "why the body should +not be moved?" + +Claude shuddered at the phrase. It suggested the inevitable. + +"Not in the least. I am quite satisfied as to the cause of death." + +The despatch of telegrams and other necessary details kept Bruce busily +employed until two o'clock. Not until he reached the privacy of his own +library was he able to break the seal of the packet left for him as the +final act and word of the late Sir Charles Dyke. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +HOW LADY DYKE DISAPPEARED + + (_Being the Manuscript left by Sir Charles Dyke, Bart., and + addressed to Claude Bruce, Esq., Barrister-at-law_) + + +It is customary, I believe, for poor wretches who are sentenced to +undergo the last punishment of the law to be allowed a three weeks' +respite between the date of their sentence and that on which they are +executed. I am in the position of such a one. The difference between me +and the convicted felon lies merely in environment; in most respects I +am worse situated than he. My period of agony is longer drawn out, I am +condemned to die by my own hand, I am mocked by the surroundings of +luxury, taunted by the knowledge that though life and even a sort of +happiness are within my reach I must not avail myself of them. + +There may come a time in the affairs of any man when he is compelled to +choose between a dishonored existence and voluntary death. These +unpleasant alternatives are now before me. You, who know me, would never +doubt which of them I should adopt, nor will you upbraid me because our +judgments coincide. There is nothing for it, Bruce, but quiet +death--death in the least obtrusive form, and so disposed that it may be +possible for you, chief among my friends and the only person I can trust +to fulfil my wishes, to arrange that my memory may be speedily +forgotten. My virtues, I fear, will not secure me immortality; my +faults, I hope, will not be spread broadcast to cram the maws of the +gaping crowd. + +I do not shirk this final issue, nor do I crave pity. In setting forth +plainly the history of my wife's death and its results, I am actuated +solely by a desire to protect others from needless suspicion. Having +resolved to pay forfeit for my own errors, I claim to have expiated +them. This document is an explanation, not a confession. + +I have not much time left wherein fittingly to shape my story so as to +be just to all, myself included. If I am not mistaken, the officers of +the law are in hot chase of me, but my statement shall not be made to an +earthly judge. The words of a man about to die may not be well chosen; +they should at least be true. I will tell of events as nearly as +possible in their sequence of time. If I leave gaps through haste or +forgetfulness you will, from your own knowledge of the facts, readily +fill them up once you are in possession of the salient features. + +Mensmore and his sister were the friends of my early years. We played +together as children. Gwendoline Mensmore was two years younger than I, +and I well remember making love to her at the age of eleven. Her mother +died when she was quite a baby, and her father married again, so her +step-brother Albert is her junior by four years. I taught him how to +ride and swim and play cricket. My father's place in Surrey--we +did not acquire the Yorkshire property until the death of my +grandfather--adjoined the estate General Mensmore occupied after his +retirement from the army. + +We children always called Gwendoline "Dick," to avoid the difficulty of +her long-sounding name, I suppose, and I honestly believe that our +respective parents entertained the idea that a marriage between us was +quite a natural thing. I went to school at Brighton, and Mensmore, +being a somewhat precocious lad, joined the same school before I left. +The headmaster, the Rev. Septimus Childe, was an old friend of my +father's, and when he wished to purchase a house at Putney--the terrible +house which has figured in my dreams for the past three months as a +Place of Skulls--my parents put pressure on my mother's trustees to make +the transaction an easy one. Of course, I knew it well. We regarded it +in those early days as a town house, and always lived there during the +season. + +My father's succession to the title and estates changed all that. We +quitted Surrey for Yorkshire, and Wensley House, Portman Square, was a +step upwards from the barrack-like building which so admirably suited +Mr. Childe's requirements. + +When I was at Sandhurst General Mensmore got into difficulties. He +quitted Surrey, and we gradually lost sight of him and his children. +Afterwards I knew that he struggled on for a few years, placed his son +in the army, and then came a complete collapse, ending in his death and +the boy's resignation of his commission. Of Gwendoline Mensmore's +whereabouts I knew nothing. Her memory never quitted me, but the new +interests in my life dulled it. I imagined that I could laugh at a +childish infatuation. + +Then I married. I did so in obedience to my father's wishes, and Alice +was, I suppose, an ideal wife--far too ideal for a youngster of my lower +intellectual plane. I know now that I never had any real affection for +her. I was always somewhat awed by her loftier aspirations. My interests +lay in racing, hunting, sports generally, and having what I defined as +"a good time." She, though an excellent horsewoman, and in every sense +an admirable hostess, thought Newmarket vulgar, treated Ascot as a +social necessity, and turned up her eyebrows at me when I failed to see +any utility in schemes for the reclamation of the submerged tenth. + +Thus, though we never quarrelled, we gradually drifted apart. She knew +she bored me if she asked me to inspect a model dwelling; I knew she +hated the people who were the companions of a coaching tour or a week at +Goodwood. Unfortunately, we were not blessed with offspring. Had it been +otherwise, we might have found a common object of interest in our +children. + +Insensibly, we agreed to a separate existence. We lived together as +friends rather than as husband and wife. We parted without regret and +met without cordiality. Do not think we were unhappy. If our marriage +was not bliss, it was at least comfortable. I think my wife was proud of +my successes on the turf in a quiet kind of way, and I certainly was +proud of her and of the high reputation she enjoyed among all classes of +society. I even reverenced her for it, and I well knew that the +enthusiastic receptions given us by our Yorkshire tenantry were not due +to my efforts in their behalf, but to hers. + +So we lived for nearly six years, and so we might have continued for +sixty had I not met Gwendoline Mensmore again, under vastly changed +circumstances. She was a chorus-girl in a variety theatre, earning a +poor living under wretched conditions. I discovered the fact by mere +chance. + +I met her, and she told me her story--how she had married a man named +Hillmer, whom her father had trusted, and whom she believed to be able +to save them from ruin. Then the crash came. Her father died; her +husband also broke down financially, took to drink and ill-treated her; +her brother was swallowed up somewhere in the Far West. She had no +alternative but to live apart from her husband and try to support +herself by the first career that suggests itself to a young, talented, +and beautiful woman. But she was already weary of the stage and its +distasteful surroundings. Her nature was too delicate for the rude +friendships of the dressing-room. She shuddered at the thought of a mild +carousal in a bar when the labors of the night were ended. + +In a word, were I differently constituted, were she cast in more common +mould, there was apparently ready to hand all the material for a vulgar +_liaison_. + +My respect for my wife, however, no less than Mrs. Hillmer's fine +disposition, saved both of us from folly. Yet I could not leave her +exposed to the exigencies of a life in which she was rapidly becoming +disillusioned. Away in the depths of my heart I knew that this sweet +woman was my true mate, separated from me by adverse chance. There was +nothing unfair to Alice in the thought. Were she questioned at any time, +I suppose, she must have admitted that we were, in some respects, as +ill-matched a couple as we were well-matched in others. You will say +that I understood but little of feminine nature--nothing at all of my +wife's. + +How best to help Mrs. Hillmer--that was the question. It was at this +stage I made the initial mistake to which I can, too late, trace a host +of succeeding misfortunes. I did not consult my wife. Trying now to +analyze my reasons for this lamentable error of judgment I imagined that +it arose from some absurd disinclination on my part to admit that I went +to the stage-door of a theatre to inquire about the identity of a young +woman whom I had recognized from the front of the house. + +Don't you see, my dear Bruce, it is almost as bad to fear your wife as +to suspect her. + +As, at that time, my own life was free from the slightest cloud of +sorrow, I took keen interest in the troubles of Mrs. Hillmer, and I +amused myself by playing, in her behalf, the part of a modern magician. +I felt intuitively that she would resent any direct attempt on my part +to place funds at her disposal, and I found a great deal of harmless fun +in helping her with her consent, but without her actual knowledge. + +I am, as you know, a rich man. At this hour I cannot sum up my available +assets to within L100,000. Altogether I must be worth nearly a million +sterling--yet my money cannot purchase me another day's existence such +as I would tolerate. Strange, is it not? + +Well, the close of the year before last was a period of unexampled +activity on the Stock Exchange, and, by way of a joke, I made some +purchases on Mrs. Hillmer's account, with the intention of pretending to +pay myself out of the profits, while handing her such balances as might +accrue. She is a shrewd woman, and quick at figures, so I might have +experienced some difficulty in deceiving her. But the mad record of the +past twelve months was in no wise belied by its inception. My purchases +were those of a man inspired by the Goddess of Fortune. Stocks which I +bought commenced suddenly to inflate. I astounded my brokers by the +manner in which I ferreted out neglected bonds, mines which struck the +mother lode next week, railway companies whose directors were even then +secretly conspiring to water the stock. + +Mrs. Hillmer became infected with the craze like myself. Twice we +plunged heavily in American Rails and came out triumphantly. To end this +part of my story, after five months of excitement I had contrived not +only to swell my own deposits to a large extent, but I had secured on +Mrs. Hillmer's account a sufficient quantity of reliable stock to bring +her in an average income of L1,500 per annum. + +My greatest difficulty was to persuade Mrs. Hillmer to break off the +habit of speculation once she had contracted it. I found that she +perused the late editions of the evening papers with the same eagerness +that a bookmaker looks for the starting prices of the day's races. By +the exercise of firmness and tact I was able to stop her from further +dealings. + +At the close of this period I need hardly say that two things had +happened. Mrs. Hillmer and I were fast friends, with common objects and +interests in life; and, concurrently, the ties between Alice and myself +had loosened still more. + +I also carelessly made another blunder. Under the pretence that secrecy +was requisite for Stock Exchange transactions, I persuaded Mrs. Hillmer +to allow me to pass under the name of Colonel Montgomery. + +Mrs. Hillmer, of course, was now able to live in comparative luxury. I +came to regard her house as an abode of rest. I was more at home in her +drawing-room than in my own house. She often spoke to me of my wife, and +obviously wished to see her, but here I did a cowardly thing. I +represented my married existence as far less comfortable than it really +was, and gradually Mrs. Hillmer ceased all allusion to Alice. She +misunderstood our relations. I knew it, and did not explain. Not a very +worthy proceeding for a man whose sense of honor is so keen that he +prefers death to disgrace. But one can deceive no other so easily as +oneself. + +Occasionally, when opportunities offered, we went out together. It was +foolish, you will say, and I agree with you. If folly were not pleasant +it would not be so fashionable. But, to this hour, the relations between +us are those only of close friendship. Never in my life have I addressed +her by other than her married name, never have I touched her arm save by +way of casual politeness. + +I really think I flattered myself upon my superior virtues. I could see +all the excellence but none of the stupidity of my behavior. + +About this time, Mrs. Hillmer's husband died. Thenceforth she became +slightly reserved in manner. When life was a defiance she fought +convention, but with safety came prudence. In fact, she told me that my +frequent visits to her house would certainly be ill-construed if they +became known. I was seeking for a pretext to introduce her to her own +set in society, when a double catastrophe occurred. + +My wife discovered, as she imagined, that I was clandestinely occupied +with another woman, and Mrs. Hillmer's brother returned from America. + +It will best serve my hurried narrative if I relate events exactly as +they happened, and not as they look in the light of subsequent +knowledge. + +Mensmore was naturally astounded to find his sister so well provided +for, and gratefully accepted the help she gave him towards resuscitating +his own fortunes. But it did not occur to either of us that he would +take the ordinary view of the bond existing between us, and I shall +never forget his rage when he found out that I was not known to his +sister's servants by my right name. It was an awkward position for all +three. He was loth to allege that which we did not feel called upon to +deny. But between him and me there was a marked coolness, arising from +suspicion on his part and resentment on mine, coupled, I must add, with +an unquiet consciousness that his attitude was not wholly unreasonable. + +Mrs. Hillmer and he discussed the matter several times. He urged that +this compromising friendship should be discontinued. She--a determined +woman when her mind was made up--fought the suggestion on the ground of +unfairness, though, like myself, she would have been glad of any +accident which would alter the position of affairs. + +He interpreted her opposition to different motives. Finally, as his +financial position was a dangerous one, as we afterwards learned, and he +despaired of setting things straight in Raleigh Mansions--judging them +from his own point of view--he resolved to leave England again. + +And now I come to the night of November 6. + +It was, as you will remember, a foggy and unpleasant day. I had some +business in the city which detained me until darkness set in. I had not +seen Mrs. Hillmer for two days, so I resolved to drive to Sloane +Square--travelling by the Underground was intolerable in such +weather--and have tea with her. + +I did not know then that she had gone with her maid to +Brighton--intending to return that evening. It was a sudden whim, she +told me subsequently, and she had not even informed the other servants +of her intention. + +The pavements in the City were slimy with the dampness of the fog, and +as an empty four-wheeler passed through Cornhill I hailed it, a most +unusual choice on my part. The cabman, I noticed, was fairly elevated, +but as these fellows often drive better when drunk than sober, I simply +told him to be careful, and jumped in. I reached Sloane Square all +right, and detained the cab for my intended journey home in time for +dinner. + +At the door of Mrs. Hillmer's flat I met the cook and housemaid, both +going out to do some shopping, probably, in the spare hour before it was +time to prepare dinner. + +They knew me well, of course, and admitted me to the drawing-room, +telling me that Mrs. Hillmer was out, but would surely return very soon. + +I had not been in the room a minute before the sharp double knock of a +telegraph messenger brought the coachman, whom the girls left in charge +of the house, to the door, and I startled the man by appearing in the +hall, as he did not know of my presence. + +"What is it, Simmonds?" I said, as I correctly guessed the message to be +from Mrs. Hillmer. + +"The missus is in Brighton, sir," he answered. "She wants the carriage +to meet her at Victoria at seven o'clock. It's six now, and I ought to +go around to the stables at once, but both these blessed girls have gone +out. I'm in a fair fix." + +"No fix at all," I said. "I want to see Mrs. Hillmer, so I will wait +here until she arrives--or, at all events, till the servants come back." + +The man scratched his head, but he could think of no better plan, so he, +too, went off, and I was left alone, for the first time in my life, in +Mrs. Hillmer's abode. It is the small events that govern our lives, +Claude, not those that stand out prominently. The shopping expedition of +a couple of servant girls, intent on securing a new cap or a few yards +of calico, brought about my wife's death, caused misery to many people, +and ends, I sincerely hope, in my own speedy leap into oblivion. + +I picked up a novel, "Tess of the D'Urbervilles," hit upon the terrible +episode that culminates on Salisbury Plain, and was soon deeply +interested, when another knock--this time an imperative summons long +drawn out--caused me to hasten to the door. + +I opened it, and in the dim light of the staircase landing, for a second +did not recognize the lady who stood outside. Heaven help me, I was soon +enlightened. My wife's voice was bitterly contemptuous as she said: + +"You don't keep a footman, it appears, in your new establishment, +Charles." + +Had I been suddenly struck blind, or paralyzed, I could not have been +more dumfounded than by Alice's unexpected appearance. A thorough +scoundrel might, perhaps, have thought of the best thing to say. I +blurted out the worst. + +"What are you doing _here_?" I stammered when my tongue recovered its +use. + +"No doubt you resent my appearance," she cried, in a high, shrill tone I +had never before heard from her, "but I shall not trouble you further. I +merely came to confirm with my own eyes what my ears refused to +entertain. Now, I am satisfied." + +She half turned with the intention of reaching the street, but, rendered +desperate by the absurdity of my position, I gripped her arm and pulled +her forcibly into the entrance-hall, closing and bolting the door behind +us. + +"You have seen too much not to see more," I cried. "I will not allow you +to ruin both our lives by a mere suspicion." + +She was in a furious temper, but her sense of propriety--for she did not +know that the servants' quarters were empty--restrained her until we had +both entered the drawing-room. + +Then she burst upon me with a torrent of words. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +SIR CHARLES DYKE ENDS HIS NARRATIVE + + +"A mere suspicion, indeed!" she said, and there was that in her voice +which warned me that I had better try unarmed to control a tigress than +a wife who deemed herself wronged; "these are pretty _suspicions_ that +surround you. A house tenanted by another woman where you are evidently +master! A mistress who left the ranks of the ballet, or something of the +sort, living in luxury on means supplied by you! A married woman who +casts off her husband with her poverty, to take up a paramour and +riches! Do you think you can blind my eyes further? I have the most +convincing proofs of your infamy. Do not imagine that on any specious +pretext I will condone your conduct. I despise you from the depths of my +heart. Henceforth I will strive to forget your very existence." + +"Alice," I said, and if she had not been blinded by passion she must +have been affected by my earnestness, "will you listen to me?" + +"Why should I? What respect have you shown to me that I should now seem +even to accept your excuses?" + +"I appeal to you not to do anything in anger. You have good reason to be +enraged with me. I only ask you to suspend your final judgment. Hear +what I have to say, take time for deliberation, for further inquiry, and +then condemn me to any punishment you think fit." + +She did not answer me. Her eyes were roving round the room and taking +stock of every indication of poor Mrs. Hillmer's artistic aptitude. The +place was eminently home-like, much more so than our elegant mansion in +Portman Square, and my wife noted the fact with momentarily increasing +bitterness. Yet I essayed my desperate task with failing nerve and +terrible consciousness of a bad cause. + +"Notwithstanding all that you have seen and heard," I said, "I am not +guilty of the crime you accuse me of. Mrs. Hillmer is an old friend of +mine, whom I have helped from a state of misery to one of comfort and +comparative happiness. She is as pure-minded in thought, as spotless in +character, as you are yourself. You are doing her a grievous injustice +by doubting the relations between her and me. If you only knew her--" + +My wife laughed scornfully. + +"Pray spare yourself, Charles. I have never seen you so interested +before, but you lie badly, nevertheless." + +"I do not lie. Before heaven I am telling you the truth." + +"You are even willing to perjure yourself, _Colonel Montgomery_?" + +My poor armor was ill-fitted for this stroke. I suppose I must have +flinched before it, for she went on: + +"You see I am well posted. My detectives have done their work well. Oh, +Heaven, that I should ever have learned to love a vile wretch like you. +I thought you respected me, at least. I tried hard to bend my own wishes +to sympathy with yours, and I dreamt even of ultimate success. I knew +you didn't care much for me, but the devotion of a slave has at times +been rewarded by the affection of her master. Fortunately, I am a slave +by choice. It only required experience to break my bonds, and you have +supplied the experience." + +For the first time in my life did it dawn on me that my self-contained +and haughty wife harbored other thoughts than a sentiment of respect for +an indulgent and easily controlled husband. It was a shock to me, a +deeper humiliation than she dreamed of. How could I expiate the past, +wipe out this record of error and folly, but not of ill-doing, and live +happily with her so long as Providence was pleased to spare us? While +these things ran through my brain she suddenly turned on me. + +"You fear exposure in the law courts! You dread your name figuring in a +society scandal! How little you know me. You naturally compare me by +your own contemptible standard. I left your house to-night determined +never to return to it should I find you here, as in all probability, I +was told, would be the case. I will go to my sister until I have +determined upon my future life. You, at least, will never, by my desire, +see or hear from me again. Thus far, I presume, I will fall in with your +views." + +She would have passed me, but I held fast to the inside of the door. If +once she got away from me I might never be able to set affairs even +tolerably right. Better, I deemed, have one trying scene in the hope +that she would calm down in the face of facts, than allow her to carry +the quarrel to her relatives and strengthen her attitude by their +natural support. + +"Alice," I said, "you shall not go." + +"How can you dare to detain me?" she shrieked, and the glint in her eyes +showed how thoroughly her passions were aroused. + +"You can separate from me if you will. I shall not venture to hinder +you. But I swear you shall not do this rash act without knowledge. I +tell you you must remain here. When you leave this house you do so in my +company." + +"And why am I to be kept a prisoner?" + +"Mrs. Hillmer will return in less than an hour. You have sought this +meeting yourself. Very well. You shall have it. When your charges have +been thoroughly thrashed out in the presence of Mrs. Hillmer and myself +I will then accompany you where you will, and leave you under the +protection of your sister, or any one else you choose, should you still +persist in leaving me." + +Of course my action was unwise to the last degree. But remember, Claude, +that during these last awful five minutes I had seen a side of my wife's +nature hidden from me six long years. And I was a man suddenly plunged +into a raging sea, drifting helplessly I knew not whither. All that +consumed me was a wild desire for such scant justice as I deserved. I +had erred, but my faults were not those my wife alleged against me. + +If she was angry before she was now absolutely uncontrollable. + +"What?" she screamed. "Remain to meet your--your mistress? Never, while +I have life!" + +She flung herself upon me so suddenly that she tore me away from the +door. She was a strong and athletic woman, and I suppose she expected +some resistance, for she used such force as to drag me forward into the +middle of the room, overturning a chair in the effort. I was so utterly +taken by surprise that I yielded to her violence more completely than +she expected. + +She staggered, let go her hold, and fell heavily backwards, tripping +over the fallen chair. I made a desperate attempt to save her, but only +caught the end of a fur necklet, and it tore like a spider's web. + +Her body crashed against a Venetian fender, and her head came with awful +force against a sort of support for the fire-irons that stood up a foot +from the ground. + +Then she rolled over, her eyes and face undergoing a ghastly change, and +instantly became, as I thought, unconscious. + +I knelt beside her, raising her head with my right hand, and brokenly +besought her to speak to me, when I would at once do anything she +demanded. But she gave no sign of animation. In a frenzy of despair, I +forced myself to examine her injuries, and my heart nearly stopped +beating when I discovered that a large piece of iron had been driven +into her brain through the back of her head. + +I knew in a moment that she was dead. Although I have not had much +experience of that terrible epoch in the human being, I have seen far +too much of death in animal life not to know that she who had been my +honored and respected wife now lay before me a mere soulless entity--a +symbol only of the splendid vital creature who, a minute earlier, was +angrily protesting against the supposed faithlessness of her mate. + +Looking back now upon the events of that fateful night, I marvel at the +appalling coolness which came to my aid as soon as I realized the extent +of the misfortune which had befallen both Alice and myself. I can fully +understand what is meant by the callousness of a certain class of +criminals, or the indifference to inevitable death betrayed by Eastern +races. No sooner was I quite assured that my wife was dead--dead beyond +hope or doubt--than I regained the use of my reasoning faculties in the +most marvellously cold-blooded degree. + +The actual difficulties of my position were enormous. I arraigned myself +before the judge and jury, and saw clearly that every circumstance +which contributed to Alice's suspicions in the first instance were now +magnified a hundred-fold by the manner and scene of her death. + +Before me, in ghostly panorama, moved the dread crowd of witnesses +against me, the degradation of my family, the bitter and vengeful +feelings of my wife's relatives, the suffering of poor, unconscious Mrs. +Hillmer, the whole avalanche of horror and misery which this unfortunate +accident had precipitated upon every person who claimed my relationship +or friendship. + +My mental attitude was quite altruistic. Could I have undone the past, I +would cheerfully have undergone a painful and protracted death +forthwith. + +But no possible atonement on my part would restore Alice to life. I knew +it was quite improbable that I should be convicted of murdering her, +strong as the circumstantial testimony against me must be. The mere +legal consequences did not, however, weigh with me for a second. From +that awful hour I felt that I was doomed personally. My only thought was +to seek oblivion, not only for myself, but for all whom Alice's death +might affect. + +Reasoning in this way, I rapidly resolved to make a bold effort to +conceal forever the time and place of the fatality. If I failed, I could +tell the truth; if I succeeded, I might, at my own expense, save a vast +amount of unnecessary sorrow. + +The desperate expedient came to me of carrying off the body to the +untenanted house at Putney where my old master had resided until his +death, utilizing the four-wheeled cab with its half-drunken driver for +the purpose. + +If I reached Putney unhindered, I could dispose of my terrible burden +easily, for the river flowed past the grounds, and every inch of the +locality was known to me. + +It occurred to me that perhaps the body might be found and recognized. +Our personal linen was never marked, by reason of the fact that our +laundry work was done upon our Yorkshire estate, but as a temporary +safeguard I resolved to take some different and less valuable outer +clothes from Mrs. Hillmer's residence. + +Her maid was of a similar build to my wife, so I hastened to the girl's +room, and laid hands upon a soiled coat and skirt which were relegated +to the recesses of the wardrobe. + +I glanced at my watch as I came along the corridor. It was 6.15 P.M. All +the incidents I have related to you had happened within a quarter of an +hour. Oh, heaven! it seemed longer than all the preceding years of my +life. + +Having resolved upon a line of conduct, I pursued it with the +_sang-froid_ and accuracy of one of the superior scoundrels delineated +by Du Boisgobey. The door of the flat was locked. If the servants, +hardly due yet, returned unexpectedly, I would send them off to Victoria +Station on some imaginary errand of their mistress's. + +I knelt beside my poor wife's body once more, and with great difficulty +took off her costume and loosely fastened on the maid's garments. + +In her purse there were some bulky documents, which I afterwards +discovered to be the reports furnished by a firm of private detectives, +detailing all my movements with reference to Raleigh Mansions with +surprising accuracy. But she had concealed her name. These men +themselves only knew me as "Colonel Montgomery." + +How Alice first came to suspect me I can only guess. Perhaps my +indifference, my absence from home at definite hours, a chance meeting +in the street unknown to me--any of these may have supplied the initial +cause, and led her to verify her doubts before taxing me with my +supposed iniquity. + +Indeed, her final act in coming alone to Mrs. Hillmer's abode, revealed +her fearless spirit and independent methods. She wanted no divorce court +revelations. She would simply have spurned me as an unworthy and +dishonorable wretch. Her small belongings I put in my pockets; the +clothes I made into a parcel and stuffed temporarily beneath my +overcoat. + +Then I unlocked the door, and went down the few steps to the main +entrance. There was no one about, the fog and sleet having cleared the +street--a quiet thoroughfare at all times. + +I took the risk of the maids coming back, and I ran to the square for my +conveyance. The driver had been improving the occasion, and was more +inebriated than before. He brought his cab to the door, and I knew, by +the appearance of things, that no one had entered during my absence. + +With some difficulty I lifted Alice's body into my arms in as natural a +position as possible, and carried her to the cab, leaving the door of +the flat ajar. Luck still favored me. The cabman supposed that she, like +himself, was intoxicated. A man came down the opposite side of the +street, but he paid not the slightest heed to me, and, indeed, we were +but dimly visible to each other. + +Exerting all my strength unobtrusively, I placed my wife on the rear +seat, and then calmly gave the driver instructions. He grumbled at the +distance, but I told him I would pay him handsomely. Searching in my +pockets and Alice's purse, I could only find twelve shillings, so, +although it was risky, to avoid a quarrel with the man, I determined to +give him a five-pound note. + +Thus far, all had gone well. + +The notion possessed me that, to all intents and purposes, I had +murdered my wife, and that I was now disposing of the visible signs of +my guilt in the most approved manner of a daring criminal. Whether I did +right or wrong I cannot, even at this late hour, decide. Should my death +induce forgetfulness, I am still inclined to think that I acted for the +best. My wife was dead; I was self-condemned. Why, then, allow others, +wholly innocent, to be dragged into the vortex? + +This was my line of thought. If you, reading this ghastly narrative, +shudder at my deeds, I pray you nevertheless to weigh in the balance the +good and ill that resulted from my actions. + +At last we reached Putney, and drew up at the end of the disused lane +which runs down by the side of the house to the river. + +Here, again, the road was deserted. I lifted my wife out, carried her to +the postern-gate, and returned to give the driver his note. The man was +so amazed at the amount that he whipped up his horse instantly, fearing +lest I should change my mind. + +I was about to force open the old and rickety door into the garden when +I remembered the drain-pipe jutting into the Thames--a place where, as a +child, I often caused much alarm by surreptitious visits for the purpose +of catching minnows. I quickly took off my coat and boots, turned up my +trousers and shirt-sleeves, and examined the pipe with my hands. + +It exactly suited my purpose. In half a minute I had firmly wedged my +wife's body beneath it. This was the most horrible portion of my task. +The chill water, the desolation of the river bank, the mud and trailing +weeds--all these things seemed so vile and loathsome when placed in +contact with the mortal remains of my ill-fated Alice. + +She had loved me. I believe I loved her, as I assuredly do now when her +presence is but a memory, yet I was condemned to commit her to the +contaminating beastliness of such surroundings. It was a small matter, +in the face of death, but it has weighed on me since more than any other +feature of that cruel night's history. + +Before leaving Putney I tied her clothes, hat, and furs to a couple of +heavy stones and threw the parcel into deep water. + +By train and cab I reached home but a few minutes late for dinner. It +was not difficult for me to act my part with the servants, nor keep up +the farce during the weary days that followed. My consciousness was so +seared by what I had gone through that the mere make-believe of my +position was a relief to me. + +That night, in the privacy of my room, I recollected the broken fender, +and feared lest the ironwork would supply a clue should the body be +discovered, a thing I deemed practically impossible. + +But, for Mrs. Hillmer's sake, I took no risk. Next morning, before I saw +you at Tattersall's, I made arrangements for the whole contents of her +drawing-room to be transferred to her brother's flat, where, to my +knowledge, the articles were needed. + +Mrs. Hillmer had gone out early, so the thing was done in her absence. +Her amazement was so great that she wired me, using as a signature the +pet name of her childhood, and this was the first message you heard the +groom refer to when he came a second time with the telegram from +Richmond. + +I wrote her a hurried note, explaining that I intended the transfer as +a sop to her offended brother, but she had telegraphed again, and I had +to go to see her, to learn that Mensmore resented the gift, and had gone +off in a huff to Monte Carlo. + +A little later, I took the supreme step of writing a farewell letter. +Since my wife's death I could not bear to meet any other woman. I +communed with my poor Alice more when dead than when alive. + +I do not think I have anything else to tell you. Step by step I watched +you and the police tearing aside my barrier of deceit. At times I +thought I would baffle you in the end. Were it not for my folly in +bribing Jane Harding I think I must have succeeded. + +That poor girl was the undoing of me in the first instance, and she now +has brought me my final sentence, for she came to-day and told me, with +tears, all that happened between the detective and herself. White, too, +put in an appearance. + +To-morrow, I suppose, he will bring a warrant, if you do not see him +first and tell him the truth. + +Do not misunderstand me. I am glad of this release. When you strove to +arouse me from my despair I did, for a little while, cherish the hope +that I might be able to devote my declining years to the work which +Alice herself took an interest in. But the web of testimony woven round +my old friend, Mensmore; the self-effacing spirit of his sister, who, to +shield me, was willing to sacrifice herself; the possibility that I +might involve these two, and perhaps others, in my own ruin--every +circumstance conspired to overwhelm me. + +I can endure no more, my dear Bruce. It is ended. The past is already a +dream to me--the future void. My poor nature was not designed to +withstand such a strain. The cord of existence has snapped, and I +cannot bring myself to believe it will be mended again. In bidding you +farewell I ask one thing. If you take a charitable view of my deeds, if +you consider that my penalty is commensurate with my faults, then you +might take my dead hand and say, "This was my friend. I pity him. May +the spirit of his wife be merciful unto him should they meet in the +regions beyond the grave." + +And so, for the last time, I sign myself + + CHARLES DYKE. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +VALEDICTORY + + +Much as Bruce would have wished to inter his dead friend's secret with +his mortal remains in the tomb, it was impossible. + +Sir Charles Dyke's sacrifice must not be made in vain, and the strange +chain of events encircled other actors in the drama too strongly to +enable the barrister to adopt the course which would otherwise have +commended itself to him. An early visit to Scotland Yard, where, in +company with Mr. White, he interviewed the Deputy Commissioner, and a +conference with the district coroner settled two important questions. +The police were satisfied as to the cause of Lady Dyke's death, and the +coroner agreed to keep the evidence as to the baronet's sudden collapse +strictly within the limits of the medical evidence. + +A wholly unnecessary public scandal was thus avoided. + +With Lady Dyke's relatives his task required considerable tact. Without +taking them fully into his confidence, he explained that Sir Charles had +all along known the exact facts bearing upon her death and burial-place, +but for family reasons he thought it best not to disclose his knowledge. + +Bruce needed their co-operation in getting the home office to give the +requisite permission for Lady Dyke's reburial. The circumstance that the +deceased baronet had left his estates to his wife's nephew, joined to +the important position Bruce occupied as one of the trustees and joint +guardian, with the boy's mother, of the young heir, smoothed over many +difficulties. + +After a harassing and anxious week Bruce had the melancholy satisfaction +of seeing the remains of the unfortunate couple laid to rest in the +stately gloom of the family vault. + +The newspapers, of course, scented a mystery in the proceedings, but +definite inquiry was barred in every direction. Even the exhumation +order gave no clue to the reasons of the authorities for granting it, +and in less than the proverbial nine days the incident was forgotten. + +Sir Charles had made it a condition precedent to the succession that his +heir should bear his name, and should live with his widowed mother on +the Yorkshire estate, or in the town house, for a certain number of +months in each year, until the boy was old enough to go to school. + +The stipulation was intended to have the effect of more rapidly burying +his own memory in oblivion. Bruce, too, was given a sum of L5,000, "to +be expended in bequests as he thought fit." + +Claude understood his motive thoroughly. Jane Harding had been loyal to +her master in her way, so he arranged that she should receive an annual +income sufficient to secure her from want. Thompson, too, was provided +for when the time came that he was too feeble for further employment at +Portman Square, and Mr. White received a handsome _douceur_ for his +services. + +Mrs. Hillmer did not even know of Sir Charles Dyke's death until weeks +had passed. Acting on Bruce's advice her brother simply told her that +everything had been settled, and that the authorities concurred with the +barrister in the opinion that Lady Dyke was accidently killed. + +When she had completely recovered from the shock of the belief that her +loyal friend had murdered his wife, Mensmore one day told her the whole +sad story. But he would allow no more weeping. + +"It is time," he said, "that the misery of this episode should cease. +When the chief actor in the tragedy gave his life to end the suffering, +we would but ill meet his wishes by allowing it to occupy our thoughts +unduly in the future." + +Mensmore's marriage with Phyllis Browne was now definitely fixed for the +following autumn, so he carried his sister off with him on a hasty trip +to Wyoming in company with Corbett--a journey required for the +protection and development of their joint interests in that State. + +Not only did their property turn out to be of great and lasting value, +but during their absence the Springbok Mine began to boom. Even the +cautious barrister one day found himself hesitating whether or not to +sell at half over par, so excellent were the reports and so extensive +the dividends from that auriferous locality. + +The two young people were married, a scion of the house had become a +lusty two-year-old, Mr. White had become Chief Inspector, and Miss Marie +le Marchant had, by strenuous effort, risen to the dignity of double +crown posters as a "dashing comedienne"--when Bruce's memories of his +lost friends were suddenly revived in an unexpected manner. + +Mr. Sydney H. Corbett came to him with measured questionings and +brooding thought stamped on his brows. + +"It's like this," he said, when they were settled down to details, "I +want to get married." + +"To whom?" inquired Claude, wondering at the savage tone in which the +announcement was made. + +"To Mrs. Hillmer." + +"Oh!" + +"That's what everybody yells the moment I mention it. She screams 'Oh!' +and runs off with tears in her eyes. Her brother says 'Oh!' and looks +uncomfortable, but refuses to discuss the proposition. Now you say 'Oh!' +and gaze at me like an owl at the bare statement. What the dickens does +it all mean, I want to know? I'm not worrying about what happened years +ago. Mrs. Hillmer is just the sort of woman I require as a wife, and +I'll marry her yet if the whole British nation says 'Oh!' loud enough to +be heard and answered by the U-nited States." + +"That's the proper sort of spirit in which to set about the business." + +"Yes, sir; but I can't get any forrarder. There's a kind of rock below +water which holds me up every time I shoot the rapids. She likes me well +enough, I know. She calls me 'Syd' as slick as butter, and I call her +'Gwen'; but there you are--if I want to go ahead a bit she pulls up and +weeps. Now, why the--" + +"Steady, Mr. Corbett. Women weep for many reasons. Do you know her +history?" + +"No, and I don't want to." + +"But perhaps that is exactly what she does want. Remember that she has +been married before, with somewhat bitter experience. She probably +believes that a husband and wife should have no secrets from each other. +Above all else, there should be no cloud between them as to bygone +events. Mrs. Hillmer is highly sensitive. If she imagined you were under +any misapprehension as to the circumstances under which Sir Charles and +Lady Dyke met their deaths--do not forget that you were personally +mixed up in the affair--she would neither entertain your proposal nor +explain her motives. She would just do as you say--run away and cry." + +"Well, now, that beats everything," said Corbett admiringly. "That never +struck me before." + +"It is the probable explanation of her attitude, nevertheless." + +"Then what am I to do?" + +"Write to her. Ask her permission to learn the facts from me. Tell her +you believe you understand the reasons for her reticence, and that your +only excuse for the request is that you want to go to her on an equal +plane of absolute confidence. It seems to me--" + +"That I'd better get quick and do it," shouted Corbett, vanishing with +the utmost celerity. + +Bruce still occupied his old chambers in Victoria Street. He did not +expect to see Corbett again for a couple of days. To the barrister's +utter amazement he returned within ten minutes. + +"Fire away!" he cried excitedly. "You struck it first time. I just rang +her up--" + +"Rang her up?" + +"Yes; she's staying at the Savoy for a few days, so I telephoned from +the Windsor. I could never fix up a letter in your words, you know. But +switch me on the end of a wire and I know where I am." + +"What on earth did you say?" + +"As soon as I got her in the box at the other end, I said, 'Is that you, +Gwen?' 'Yes,' said she. 'Well,' said I, 'I guess you know who's +talking?' 'Quite well,' said she. 'Then,' said I, 'I've just been +telling Mr. Bruce I wanted to marry you, and that you wouldn't even +discuss the proposition. He said you probably wished me to know the +whole story of Sir Charles Dyke, but felt kinder shy of telling me +yourself. He will get it off his chest if you give him permission, and +then I can come along in a hansom and fix things. What do you say?' +There was no answer, so I shouted, 'Are you there?' and she said, 'Yes,' +faint-like. 'Don't let me hurry you,' said I, 'but if you agree +straight-away I can catch Bruce at home, for I've just left him.' With +that she said, 'Very well. You can see Mr. Bruce.' And here I am." + +"Having accomplished the whole thing satisfactorily." + +"As how?" + +"Don't you see you have proposed to the lady and practically been +accepted?" + +"Jehosh! It does look something like it. Say, I'm off! This story of +yours will keep until to-morrow." + +He would have gone, but Bruce jumped after him. + +"Not so fast, Mr. Corbett. You must not sail into the Savoy flying a +false flag. Kindly oblige me with your attention for the next +half-hour." + +With that, he unlocked a safe and took from its recesses Sir Charles +Dyke's "confession." He read the whole of its opening passages, +explaining the relations between Mrs. Hillmer and her unfortunate but +abiding friend. + +The straightforward, honest sentences sounded strangely familiar at this +distance of time. Bruce was glad of the opportunity of reading them +aloud. It seemed a fitting thing that this testimony should come, as it +were, from the tomb. + +Corbett listened intently to the recital and to the barrister's summary +of the events that followed. + +"Poor chap!" he said, when the sad tale had ended. "I hope you shook +hands with him as he asked you to do?" + +"I did. Would that my grasp had the power to reassure him of my +heartfelt sympathy." + +For a little while they were silent. + +"So," said Corbett at last, "Gwen thought I would make the same mistake +as the poor lady, and suspect her wrongfully." + +"No, not that. But naturally she wished the man whom she could trust as +a husband to be wholly cognizant of events in which already he had +participated slightly." + +"She was right. I like her all the better for it. But, tell me, is there +any necessity for that wonderful document to be preserved?" + +"Not the slightest. It has served its last use." + +"Then put it in the fire." + +Bruce did not hesitate a moment to comply with the wish. The flames +devoured the record with avidity, and the two men watched the manuscript +crumbling into nothingness. Then Corbett said: + +"I must be off to the Savoy." + +"Good-bye, old chap," said Bruce. "And good luck to you, too. I +congratulate both Mrs. Hillmer and yourself." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A Mysterious Disappearance, by Gordon Holmes + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE *** + +***** This file should be named 34277.txt or 34277.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/2/7/34277/ + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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