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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-31 10:21:52 -0700 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-31 10:21:52 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/75760-0.txt b/75760-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f250857 --- /dev/null +++ b/75760-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8484 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75760 *** + + + + + + THE + HOUSE OF EVIL + + BY + WILLIAM LE QUEUX + + + + + WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED + LONDON AND MELBOURNE + 1927 + + + + + CONTENTS + + CHAPTER ONE + CHAPTER TWO + CHAPTER THREE + CHAPTER FOUR + CHAPTER FIVE + CHAPTER SIX + CHAPTER SEVEN + CHAPTER EIGHT + CHAPTER NINE + CHAPTER TEN + CHAPTER ELEVEN + CHAPTER TWELVE + CHAPTER THIRTEEN + CHAPTER FOURTEEN + CHAPTER FIFTEEN + CHAPTER SIXTEEN + CHAPTER SEVENTEEN + CHAPTER EIGHTEEN + CHAPTER NINETEEN + CHAPTER TWENTY + CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE + CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO + CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE + CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR + + + + + THE HOUSE OF EVIL + + CHAPTER ONE + +“Hugh, old man, you’re growing as close as an oyster. This is twice +this week you have dined out, leaving me solitary, and refused to tell +me what you are up to. I wonder what it is you have got up your +sleeve?” + +Two young men were strolling down the lovely Promenade des Anglais at +Nice. The elder, the Honourable Hugh Craig, was twenty-seven; Leonard +Lydon, his companion, about six months younger. + +They had been fast friends at Harrow, where Craig had risen to be the +Head of the School, and afterwards at Balliol, and the friendship had +continued after they left Oxford till the present time. + +Craig, the youngest son of Viscount Clandon, was a member of an old +aristocratic family which, for generations, had been closely connected +with the government of the country. Several of the heads of it had sat +in the Cabinets of their day and generation; other members had filled +high civil and military posts in England and its Dependencies. Hugh +himself was in the diplomatic service, and was enjoying a brief +holiday with his friend on the lovely Côte d’Azur. + +Leonard Lydon was of humbler stock than his aristocratic companion. +His father, a wealthy Liverpool merchant, had risen from small +beginnings. He had laid the foundations of his fortune very early in +his career, so that he was able to give his numerous family the +advantage of a liberal education. Each of his five sons was sent to a +public school, and subsequently either to Cambridge or Oxford. + +The Liverpool merchant had died a couple of years ago, leaving behind +him a handsome fortune, half of which was left to his widow for life, +the other half divided between the five sons and four daughters. + +The two elder sons inherited the business, as well as their share of +the private fortune. As there were nine persons to divide the half of +the total amount, nobody received a very huge sum, but enough to bring +in a comfortable income. + +After taking his degree at Oxford, Leonard had become deeply +interested in wireless research, and had studied until he became a +full-blown radio engineer, a profession which he followed in the +Admiralty during the later years of the War. After peace he joined an +American Wireless Communication Company which had a branch in England. +At the time this story opens, he had been appointed this Company’s +chief engineer and designer. As he was in receipt of a handsome +salary, his financial position was a very comfortable one. + +His friend, Hugh Craig, was not so well off as himself. His family, +though very ancient, was poor for its position. He was still in the +lower grades of the diplomatic service, and his private income was a +small one. But the Clandon influence would later on be sure to secure +for him a snug post. He was, however, better off than a good many +members of impoverished families, as he had been left a moderate +legacy of a few thousands by a near relative. + +When his friend rallied him upon his secretive mien, Hugh gave one of +his disarming and diplomatic smiles. + +“I expect you’ll learn all about it in good time, my dear fellow. You +know I was always rather a reticent sort of chap, fond of making a +mystery of small things.” + +Lydon laughed. “That’s one of the truest things you have ever said, +Hugh, and nobody who didn’t know you thoroughly, like myself, would +ever guess it. On the surface, you give the impression of being one of +the frankest men living. That appearance of yours will be one of the +greatest assets to you in your career. How easily it will enable you +to hoodwink people when you want to!” + +Hugh Craig smiled in his turn. “From all I can learn this peculiar +characteristic has run in the Clandon family for generations. I +suppose that is why so many of us have taken so readily to statecraft +and diplomacy.” + +That evening, Leonard Lydon dined by himself at the Hôtel Royal, as +he had done a couple of nights ago. During the progress of his +solitary meal, he speculated a good deal upon the cause of his +friend’s absence. Of an ordinary man, the man whose type he had met in +scores, he would have said there was undoubtedly a woman at the bottom +of it. + +But Hugh Craig, good-looking, self-possessed and _débonnaire_, with +that smiling, charming manner, was by no means an ordinary man. Even +as a boy he had been a complex character, and the transition to +manhood had deepened the complexity. + +Intimately associated as they had been all these years, Lydon was +forced to confess that he knew very little of the inner personality of +his friend, the part which he hid so successfully from the world under +that smiling, _débonnaire_ mask. + +Did he care greatly about women? Did he care at all about them? For +the life of him, Leonard could not give a definite answer to that +question. As was natural on the part of such young men, they had often +lightly discussed the other sex together. But out of these +conversations nothing of a hidden vein of romance had been revealed by +Craig. His comments might have been those of a rather cynical +philosopher of twice his age. + +Only once had he made any remark bearing directly upon himself, which +might be taken to represent his well-considered opinions on the +subject, and on this occasion he had spoken with more gravity than was +his wont when the conversation touched upon the themes of love and +marriage. + +“No man who intends to make a career for himself should ever commit +the folly of falling in love,” he had said. “Because the chances are +ten to one that he will fall in love with the wrong person. Marry for +sound, sensible reasons perhaps. Even then I think I should postpone +the step as long as possible, so far as I am individually concerned.” + +Lydon, whose temperament was rather of the romantic kind, looked the +surprise he felt. + +“But surely you will marry some day, Hugh? Not too early perhaps, but +when you have got a comfortable post?” + +The answer came very deliberately. “It might be an absolute necessity +of the position. But putting that on one side, I feel no great +yearning for the married state. If I were the eldest son, it would be +necessary for me to provide an heir; but the Clandons are so prolific, +they are not likely to die out for want of representatives.” + +On the whole, Lydon would have said, from these and other remarks +dropped by the calm, smiling young diplomatist, that Hugh Craig was +very little attracted by women, and the last man in the world to be +capable of a grand passion. + +But he was not at all sure. During the long term of their friendship, +Hugh had so often surprised him by sudden revelations of a side of his +character totally unsurmised, that he could not reckon upon him with +any degree of certainty. + +It was just on the cards that he had suddenly met a woman who had the +power to stir his languid pulses. And Lydon had always suspected that, +deep down under that placid exterior, there was something volcanic +slumbering which would one day burst into flame. If Hugh ever did +love, it was more than probable he would love with an unreasoning +ardour. + +If there was a woman, who was she? Where had they met? The two young +men had been so much together during their stay at Nice, that +opportunity did not seem to have offered itself very abundantly. And +one thing was quite certain. If Hugh had a serious love affair, nobody +would be told about it till the very last moment. Secretiveness about +his personal concerns was the keynote of his character. + +Having finished his dinner, Lydon went into the lounge. He had not +been there long when the Stormont family came in. It consisted of +Howard Stormont, a stout, rubicund, clean-shaven man of about fifty, +who bore his years gaily; his niece, Gloria, a pretty, blue-eyed, +fair-haired girl with a slender, graceful figure, and his widowed +sister, Mrs. Maud Barnard, a woman who dressed in a rather extravagant +style. + +They had struck up a slight acquaintance with the two young men, +chiefly with Lydon, who was a very cosmopolitan fellow. Craig had not +taken greatly to the party, being a person of very fastidious taste. +When he talked them over with his friend, he admitted that Gloria was +a remarkably pretty girl, “would have been quite worth cultivating if +she had possessed different relatives.” The rubicund Howard Stormont +he declared to be an aggressive type of profiteer, and Mrs. Barnard he +evidently considered to be an unrefined, over-dressed woman. + +Lydon did not take this severe view of the uncle and aunt. Mrs. +Barnard was a trifle flamboyant in dress perhaps, but she was also +exceedingly amiable and good-natured. Stormont’s manners were possibly +too hearty for perfect refinement, but he was a genial, cheery fellow, +and full of a shrewd wit. + +As for Gloria, Leonard though he had never come across a more charming +girl. In the few chats they had enjoyed together when Craig happened +to be absent, she had told him a good deal about herself. Her parents +lived in China, where her father held a high position in one of the +European banks. As the climate did not suit her, she had made her home +with her uncle, the rubicund Howard Stormont and his widowed sister, +at Effington in Surrey. + +He also learned that, like many modern young women, she was an +athletic girl, passionately fond of all outdoor games and sports. As +he was no mean athlete himself, he admired her the more for this fact, +which rather surprised him, as her appearance did not suggest any +particular robustness, but rather the reverse. + +Presently Mr. Stormont went away to write some letters, and soon after +Mrs. Barnard followed him. The young people were left alone. + +“What has become of your friend, Mr. Craig?” the girl asked him. “This +is the second time this week he has left you to dine in solitary +state. I feel quite sorry for you.” + +She had a very sweet, musical voice. In fact Lydon thought everything +about her was dainty and refined, far above the average. + +The young man smiled. “Yes, Craig has been very mysterious the last +few days. He goes off on his own, and he won’t tell me a word about +it. He parries all hints with his usual diplomatic ability and +sang-froid. You can’t ruffle him, you know.” + +“I should say it would be quite impossible,” was Miss Stormont’s +answer. “You are very great friends, are you not? I have often +wondered why.” + +“What is it that causes you to wonder?” asked Leonard. + +Miss Stormont blushed a little at being called upon to explain her +rather unguarded remark. + +“You seem such exact opposites. You are perfectly open, impulsive, not +to say impetuous. If asked for your opinion, you blurt it out at once, +sometimes without very deep thought, if you will forgive me for saying +so, as I have often known you to alter or modify it as you go along. +Mr. Craig is so different. Behind that smiling urbanity is an intense +reserve, a profound caution. Somehow, if you ask him a straightforward +question, his answer is so fenced about with subtleties that you don’t +feel satisfied.” + +Lydon laughed heartily. The girl was very frank, even to the point of +indiscretion. But she had certainly judged his friend pretty shrewdly. +Even those who loved him and admired his very considerable gifts were +forced to admit that there was a good deal of the Jesuit about this +young descendant of diplomatic ancestors. + +They had the longest talk they had ever enjoyed together that evening +in the almost empty lounge. + +As she prattled gaily along, with that frankness which was natural to +her, he learned a good deal about the rubicund Howard Stormont +himself. He was engaged in business, a very busy man and possessed of +boundless energy. He was not fond of London life, and so far as was +compatible with his business interests, played with great gusto the +rôle of country gentleman. He had purchased a charming place some +five years ago, and was never happier than when strolling around +Effington village in his country tweeds, and chatting familiarly with +the inhabitants. + +This estate had been acquired from an impoverished and hard-living +young sprig of the nobility, a grandson of the Earl of Sedgemere, who +had originally owned the fine seat known as Effington Hall. Under his +short tenure, the revenues which should have gone to the upkeep of the +property had been diverted to gambling and riotous living. The once +big estate had been disposed of bit by bit. + +Stormont, the wealthy man of business, had soon altered this. The +mansion and estate had been vastly improved, and pretty Effington +village had been renovated out of all recognition. Upon the completion +of his purchase, he had given a donation of five hundred pounds +towards the restoration of the exquisite thirteenth-century church +with its grey square tower, such a well-known landmark in the Surrey +landscape. In the “county” he was highly respected for his generosity +and magisterial work, for very soon after his purchase of Effington he +had been put upon the roll of Justices of the Peace for the county of +Surrey. + +So, somewhat to his surprise, Lydon learned that this homely, rather +commonplace-looking man, whom his friend Craig described as an +aggressive profiteer, was a person of importance in business circles, +and not altogether undistinguished in the more select sphere of county +life. + +“I enjoy travelling very much,” she told the young man, after she had +furnished him with these details of her uncle’s biography. “But my +happiest time is at Effington with the dear dogs and horses. I know +everybody in the place, and the hours seem to go as if they were +minutes.” + +“You seem to me rather a lucky girl,” remarked her companion, “and I +expect you are spoiled by both uncle and aunt.” + +Miss Stormont admitted with a pretty smile that he was not very far +out in his guess. Howard Stormont was one of the most generous and +easy-going men alive, and nobody could be more indulgent towards youth +than Mrs. Barnard. She was very young in spirit herself, and preferred +the society of her juniors to more staid company. They indulged her in +every reasonable wish, and kept open house and practised an almost +lavish hospitality. + +No wonder, thought Lydon, that the county had taken them to its bosom. +And although Craig had conceived a quite pronounced dislike for both +the man and his sister, Lydon, less fastidious and critical, thought +them very delightful people. Stormont was probably a self-made man, +but he detected in neither him nor his sister any offensive signs of +the newly-rich. He was not a snob, as affable to a waiter as he would +have been to a duke, and never bragged. Mrs. Barnard was perhaps a +trifle too flamboyant and juvenile in her attire for a woman of her +years, but this, after all, was a very venial weakness. + +The tall, elegant girl he considered perfection; he could not see in +her anything that he would have wished altered. And so she was the +adopted daughter of a wealthy man! It was not much use allowing his +feelings to stray in that direction. Howard Stormont would certainly +have different views for her future. His friend Craig perhaps, with +that fine old family record behind him, might have been considered +favourably. But what had he, Leonard Lydon, a man of moderate income +and no particular position, to offer such a peerless girl? Better put +the idea out of his head with the least possible delay. + +Still, it was very delightful sitting there and chatting to her. She +talked to him as if she had known him for years, and there was not the +faintest symptom of coquetry about her. She seemed a perfectly frank +and open girl and quite free from conceit, unconscious that her +undeniable personal charms were bound to work havoc on the opposite +sex. She was not one of those sophisticated modern maidens who are +always out for conquest and admiration. + +They sat there for a long time, as neither Howard nor his sister +reappeared. Presently Craig returned from his mysterious visit and +came into the lounge in search of his friend. It struck Lydon, who +could read him more easily than most people, that, in spite of the +urbane mask which he so rarely removed, he was preoccupied and gloomy. + +Craig was too well-bred a gentleman to be absolutely rude to anybody, +much less to an attractive young woman. He addressed a few polite +remarks to Miss Stormont, but it was not difficult to see his mind was +elsewhere while he was making them. His presence seemed to have a +rather chilling influence on both young people. Miss Stormont +evidently was affected by it, for, after a very brief interval, she +rose and bade them good night, saying that she must go and look after +her relatives. + +The young men smoked together for about half an hour, and during this +time the conversation between them was desultory and fitful. Lydon was +more sure than ever that his friend had something on his mind, but in +spite of their close intimacy he did not venture to question him. +Craig had a chilling manner of repelling confidences which it required +a very callous man to put up with. If he did not think fit to unbosom +himself, wild horses would not drag anything from him. When he had +finished his cigar, he rose and rather abruptly intimated he was going +to bed. Lydon stayed a little longer, thinking of Gloria Stormont and +her exquisite charm, and then followed his example. + +In the morning he came down rather late to breakfast, and was +surprised to see the Stormont family in the hall, in the act of +departure. The portly man addressed him in his usual breezy and genial +manner. + +“Glad to have a chance of saying good-bye to you. Amongst my letters +this morning, I found one summoning me back to England on urgent +business that brooks no delay. Very pleased to have come across you. +The world is small, I expect we shall meet again some day. Come along, +Maud. Gloria, hurry up.” + +There were hasty hand-shakes. Gloria smiled very sweetly and flushed +just a little as she bade him farewell. Lydon felt his spirits sinking +very low at her departure. He went into the dining-room and found +Craig half-way through his breakfast. He imparted the news to his +friend. + +Craig made the very briefest comment. “I suppose you will miss her. +You seemed on very good terms when I came upon you last night. Well, +my dear chap, perhaps it is better. A very undesirable family, +although I admit the girl is vastly different from her uncle and that +overdressed aunt.” + +Leonard did not make any reply to this unkind speech. He knew his +friend too well. He was not a man of violent likes or dislikes; but +when once he formed an unfavourable opinion of anybody, nothing would +ever alter or modify it. Howard Stormont and his widowed sister were +anathema to him, and anathema they would remain till the end of the +chapter. + +They were staying on for the best part of another week, and during +that period the young men were together the greater part of the time. +But on several occasions Craig absented himself for short intervals, +giving no explanation of his movements. + +And one day, by the merest chance, Leonard saw him in a side street, +engaged in conversation with a shabby, rather furtive-looking +foreigner. As they were too occupied to notice him, he soon removed +himself from their neighbourhood. + +He had come across a few acquaintances at Nice, and Craig a great +many. But this shabby furtive-looking foreigner was not the sort of +companion suitable for the fastidious young diplomatist. Clearly there +was some mystery going on, which his friend was carefully hiding from +him. Probably it might be connected with his diplomatic business, but +Lydon had an uncanny idea that a woman was at the bottom of it, +whatever it was. + +Never did he forget that early morning of the day which they had fixed +for their departure. In the evening, Craig had gone out to dinner for +the third time during their stay. Lydon went to the masked ball at the +Casino, and returned early in the morning. He concluded that Craig had +come home and gone to bed, knowing that his friend would not leave the +Casino till late. + +He was about to undress when he was called to the telephone by the +police, who gave him alarming news. Would he go at once to the Villa +des Cyclamens at Mont Boron, as his friend Mr. Craig was dangerously +ill? + +He had felt a little nettled the last few days by what he considered +Craig’s unfriendly reticence; but when he received this message, all +his old affection for the staunch comrade of so many years returned in +full force. As soon as possible he was at the Villa des Cyclamens of +which he now heard for the first time. + + + + + CHAPTER TWO + +Great was his astonishment at finding the pretty villa overlooking +the moonlit Mediterranean in possession of the police, amongst whom he +observed the shabby furtive-looking man whom he had seen talking to +Hugh in the side street of Nice. + +The chief official approached him and addressed him in excellent +English. “We sent you a rather guarded message, Mr. Lydon, as we felt +we could break the news better to you when you came here. A very +terrible tragedy has occurred.” + +Lydon held his breath. He knew now that the mystery about Hugh Craig’s +frequent disappearance which had so puzzled him was about to be solved +by this bland, courteous official. + +“A terrible tragedy?” he faltered. “In Heaven’s name what has +happened?” The man proceeded to explain. “This house is tenanted by a +Madame Makris, a widow. Her husband was a Greek merchant, she is an +Englishwoman. She lived here with her daughter, Mademoiselle Elise +Makris, the only child of the marriage. Mademoiselle and your friend, +Mr. Hugh Craig, were very close friends; according to the mother’s +statement, they were more than friends, very devoted lovers. It seems +a few days ago they had a violent quarrel--I am still quoting Madame +Makris--the cause of which was not divulged. To-night Mr. Craig dined +here, and after dinner he and the young lady went and sat on the +veranda, according to their usual custom on the occasions when he +visited the house.” + +Lydon interrupted with a question. “There are only three nights on +which he has dined away from the hotel where we were staying together. +I suppose he paid several day visits?” + +“Madame Makris tells me hardly a day has passed that he did not come +here, staying for longer or shorter periods. The young people have +known each other for some five years. Well, the mother upon those +occasions did not intrude herself very much; she left the lovers alone +as much as possible. She followed her usual course this evening, +occupying herself in writing letters and attending to her household +accounts. + +“Suddenly she was startled by the sound of shots proceeding from the +veranda where Mr. Craig and her daughter were seated. She rushed +hastily from the room in which she was sitting and was horrified at +the sight which presented itself. Mademoiselle was bleeding from a +wound in the neck. After shooting her, the young man turned the pistol +on himself and sent a bullet through his brain. The young woman was +still alive, Mr. Craig was dead when she reached him. The second shot +had done its work instantaneously. + +“Madame Makris at once rang up the police. We came with a doctor and +Mademoiselle was taken to the hospital behind the railway station. For +the unfortunate young man nothing could be done. After Madame had made +her statement to us, we telephoned to you to come up.” + +Dazed as he was by the tragic occurrence, Lydon could grasp the fact +that, although Hugh had never breathed to his friend a word of his +secret connection with the denizens of the Villa des Cyclamens, he had +been perfectly frank with them as to his relations with Lydon. +Otherwise, how did Madame Makris know that they were staying together +at the same hotel? + +So the volcano which he had always suspected was slumbering under that +placid exterior had suddenly burst into flame with these awful +consequences to Elise Makris and the man himself. + +“Can Madame suggest any explanation of this frenzied act?” was Lydon’s +next question. + +The courteous official shook his head. “Madame says she knows nothing, +that the whole thing is inexplicable to her.” + +“Mademoiselle Makris is in the hospital, you say. Do they give any +hope of her recovery? Is the wound a serious one?” + +“Very serious, I am told,” was the reply. “They can pronounce no +definite opinion at the moment. From what I can gather she seems to be +hovering between life and death. Perhaps you would like to see the +body; we have laid it in one of the bedrooms?” + +Leonard went to the chamber, and gazed upon the pallid features of the +friend whom he had last seen in full health and strength. As he stood +there, looking down on the rigid form, he felt overcome by the +memories of their long association. They had been intimate so many +years. + +A little under the age of fifteen they had foregathered at Harrow, +drawn together by that strange attraction which sometimes unites +totally opposite temperaments. They had gone up form by form in +company. Hugh the mental superior, beating his friend at the last lap +of all, and attaining the proud position of Head of the School. In the +same year they had been put into the cricket eleven and had done +battle against Eton at Lord’s. At Balliol, whither they both +proceeded, the intimacy grew stronger, and here again history repeated +itself. They both represented their University in cricket against +Cambridge, as they had represented Harrow. + +And now this life, so full of promise and opportunity, had been +blotted out by his own rash act. And, even more terrible, Hugh Craig +had gone to his last account with the sin of murder, or at least +attempted murder, on his soul. What terrible thing was it that had so +unhinged his mind? + +The police had found the pistol clutched firmly in his dead hand. This +fearful deed, then, was not due to some sudden temptation of the +moment. It must have been premeditated or he would not have taken a +loaded weapon with him to this peaceful villa. When Hugh had bade his +friend good-bye, he must have had murder, and afterwards +self-destruction, in his mind. + +When the young man had left the death-chamber, he inquired after +Madame Makris, and was informed that she was prostrated with grief, as +was quite natural. He exchanged a few words with the furtive-looking +man whom he had seen talking to Hugh in the side street a short time +ago. + +“I saw you together the other day,” he said, “but you did not see me, +and I hastened as quickly as possible out of sight, as I did not wish +to appear to be spying upon my friend. Do you know anything that can +throw light upon this?” + +The shabby individual lowered his eyes as he answered. “No, monsieur, +I am sorry to say, nothing. My acquaintance with Monsieur Craig was +very slight.” + +If the man was not actually lying, it was obvious there was nothing to +be got out of him. Lydon impatiently asked him if he was one of the +regular police. To this question he replied that he was not, that he +followed the profession of private inquiry agent, as it would be +called in England. That he was naturally in the course of his business +frequently in communication with them, and that having heard of the +terrible tragedy at the Villa, he had begged permission to accompany +them there. + +Later on, Lydon put himself into communication with the dead man’s +family, and Hugh’s elder brother came over to Nice at once to +superintend the arrangements. Geoffrey Craig, a rather severe-looking +man, who held a minor Governmental post, was as much bewildered by the +catastrophe as Lydon himself. He had never heard of the Makris family +in connection with his brother. + +Hugh Craig was buried in the beautiful English cemetery out beyond the +Magnan, what time the girl whom he had tried to kill was lying between +life and death in the hospital. + +Lydon was obliged to defer his departure for a few days in consequence +of these tragic happenings. Before he left he called upon Mrs. Makris, +who was now sufficiently recovered to receive him. + +She was a stoutly-built, rather over-dressed woman, with a face which +still showed traces of good looks. He had been told by the police she +was an Englishwoman, and her thoroughly British accent confirmed the +fact. But he had a shrewd suspicion that Jewish blood ran in her +veins. + +While he was waiting in the pretty _salon_ of the Villa des Cyclamens +for the unhappy mother, he noticed upon a writing table a gorgeous +carved sapphire made into a pendant, the stone worn upon the +breastplate of the High Priest of the Hebrews as the sign of Issachar. +He rather marvelled that such a valuable article was allowed to lie +there. In the distraction occasioned by the tragedy, it was of course +possible that neither Madame Makris nor any other member of the +household had heeded it. + +The Jewish-looking woman bore upon her still good-looking face the +deep traces of her grief. When Lydon murmured a few words of sympathy, +the ready tears fell immediately. + +“My darling Elise was all the world to me; we were devoted to each +other,” she said in a broken voice. “And this state of suspense is +awful. Two whole days have passed, and still they are not certain +whether she will live or die.” + +Lydon again expressed his deep sympathy. “I have been very terribly +shocked too, although I cannot for a moment pretend to compare my +feelings with yours. Hugh Craig and I have been friends from boyhood, +and I should have judged him the last man in the world to have given +way to such an awful impulse. Have you no inkling of the cause which +led to such an unexpected catastrophe?” + +Madame Makris shook her head, a head covered with thick dark hair in +which there was not a trace of grey, in spite of her years, which +might have been anything from forty-five to fifty. + +“Not the slightest, Mr. Lydon. There had been some disagreement +between them a little time previously, for I discovered my poor girl +in tears after he had left. I pressed her to tell me the reason of her +agitation, but she parried all my efforts to extract the truth from +her. She assured me it was quite a trifling matter, and that she would +not have been affected by it, except for the fact that she was in low +spirits.” + +“May I ask, madame, if they had known each other for long?” + +“Some few years,” was the answer. “There was no regular engagement +between them, but it was understood that they would marry as soon as +they could. Elise was always rather reticent on the subject, but I +gathered that there was some difficulty in the way with regard to Mr. +Craig’s family. It was a very old and honourable one, and it was +expected of him that when he did marry he would choose somebody of his +own order. We are, of course, quite middle-class people, and by no +means wealthy. My husband was a merchant.” + +Lydon pointed to the writing-table. “That is rather a valuable thing +to leave lying about, if I may say so, madam.” + +The dark-haired woman looked at it with an air of indifference. “I had +forgotten it in the preoccupation of my great trouble. It belongs to +Elise. Her uncle, Monsieur Lianas, gave it to her on her twenty-first +birthday. She was wearing it when the tragedy occurred. I only brought +it back from the hospital this morning, and heedlessly laid it down +there. But you are quite right; it is too valuable to be left lying +about. I will lock it up directly. Heaven knows if my poor child will +ever wear it again,” she concluded with a burst of tears. + +Leonard went back to England the next day, very sad at heart at the +loss of his lifelong friend. He pondered much over the meagre +information that Madame Makris had given him. The young people had +known each other for some years. There had been no formal engagement +between them, but it was an understood thing they were to be married +as soon as they were in a position to do so. + +And during those years, although they had met so frequently, Craig had +never dropped a word about Elise or her mother to his friend. So +strange a silence passed beyond the bounds of ordinary reticence. +There must be some reason for it, most likely some mystery behind it. +He could quite understand that Hugh might find some difficulty in +reconciling his family to his marriage with a foreigner of no +particular position. But it was strange that a man should be in love +and never say anything about it to his closest friend. + +As was natural under such painful circumstances, his thoughts of +Gloria Stormont had been temporarily pushed into the background; but +after a little, when the first violence of the shock had passed away, +her charming image again recurred to him. + +What a beautiful girl she was, and how delightfully unaffected! Was it +likely he would ever come across her again? Her uncle had spoken of it +as a probability when he remarked that after all the world was a small +place. + +And a fortnight later, Howard Stormont’s prophecy was fulfilled. Lydon +suddenly made up his mind to run down for a week-end to the +_Metropole_ at Brighton. As he ascended the steps of the well-known +hotel about an hour before dinner-time, the first person he +encountered in the vestibule was the genial Stormont, looking more +prosperous and rubicund than ever. + +Nothing could have been more hearty than the greeting Lydon received. + +“Well met, my dear fellow, glad to see you. I said it would not be +long before we ran across each other again. My sister and Gloria are +with me. Are you alone? Good, you must join our table. Well, as soon +as you have settled about your room, let us celebrate the occasion +with a cocktail. Good old _Metropole_, you can’t beat it. I’m not very +busy just now, so we’re here for a week. My sister is a bit run down, +and the sea breezes will set her up.” + +What a good-hearted fellow he was, Lydon thought. Gloria had said of +him he was one of the kindest and most generous of men. Over their +cocktails the young man told him of the tragic happenings at the Villa +des Cyclamens. But Stormont had read it in the papers. Of course it +was impossible that anything could be kept quiet in the case of a man +of Hugh Craig’s position. + +“A very mysterious affair, and I suppose nobody will ever know the +rights of it,” he remarked when Leonard had communicated all the +details he knew, which, as we know, were somewhat meagre. “Well, I +cannot say I ever took very kindly to your poor friend, for the reason +probably that he took very little pains to conceal his dislike of me. +But it is a terrible ending to a promising career. I suppose, in the +course of time, he would have ended up as an ambassador. The Clandon +family have a knack of falling into soft jobs. Now, you won’t see the +womenfolk before dinner, as they are in their rooms, and I shan’t +mention I have met you. When you walk up to our table it will be a +pleasant surprise for them. We all took a great fancy to you at Nice.” + +The young man had no reason to complain of his welcome at the hands of +the two ladies when he met them at dinner. Mrs. Barnard told him it +was a most agreeable surprise, and although Gloria did not make +flattering speeches, she flushed prettily and her eyes looked very +bright when she shook hands with him. + +They spent a very delightful evening together. Early the next morning +Stormont expressed his intention of taking his sister a long motor +drive, with a view of getting as much fresh air as possible; they +would be back to luncheon. + +“You two young people can do what you like with yourselves,” he said +gaily. Certainly, he was a most complaisant person. Lydon was rather +surprised that he should throw them into each other’s society like +this. Surely he must have ambitious views for his niece’s future. And +he could not help wondering what it was his friend Hugh had seen in +the man which made him dislike him so intensely. Little vulgarisms in +speech and manner peeped out now and again, but surely those were not +enough to account for such a fierce aversion, more especially as +Craig, in spite of his aristocratic lineage, was rather a democratic +sort of fellow at heart, and a thorough cosmopolitan. + +The two, thus dismissed to their own resources, went on to the West +Pier, where they sat for some little time, then they walked up and +down the Parade for a couple of hours, till it was time to return to +the hotel. During these happy and precious moments Leonard felt that +he was making great headway with the charming girl. She talked to him +with as much freedom as if they had been friends of old standing. She +told him all about her uncle’s place, Effington Hall, and of her mode +of life there. According to her account, it was a very beautiful +place, with lovely gardens, and the rather commonplace-looking Howard +Stormont appeared to dwell in great luxury, with a large retinue of +servants. As he listened, he wondered if he would ever be asked to +join the numerous company which the owner invited there. + +Stormont did not seem to mind his enjoying the girl’s society on a +casual visit to the seaside, but would he draw the line at the +familiarity born of a long stay in a country house? Had he been in the +uncle’s place, he was inclined to think he would. + +His visit did not terminate with the week-end. He stayed on another +couple of days, being pressed to do so by Stormont himself during this +extension of time. The brother and sister left the young couple very +much to themselves, and Lydon made splendid running with Gloria. So +much so that, before he left, she had promised to run up to town from +Effington soon after they returned there, and lunch with him in town. + +Lydon had suggested it with rather a shamefaced air. “I don’t feel I +have the cheek to ask you in front of your uncle and aunt after such a +short acquaintance,” he explained. “I expect they would think it +confounded impertinence on my part.” + +Gloria had blushed very becomingly when she answered him. “Well, one +cannot be quite sure. They are pretty modern, considering all things, +but perhaps not quite so modern as you and I. I often run up to shop; +it is really no distance from London. I will give you good notice when +I am coming, and I can tell them about it later when we have all got +to know each other better.” + +Lydon went back to London very delighted that the girl liked him well +enough to take the bold course of meeting him secretly. In due course, +when he went in to breakfast in his comfortable chambers at Ryder +Street, he found the expected note from Miss Stormont appointing two +days later for their luncheon. + +There was another letter from the well-known firm of Shelford & +Taylor, solicitors in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, asking him to give them a +call, as they wished to hand him a communication from one of their +clients. + +He knew these people had attended to the affairs of most of the +members of the Clandon family, Hugh included. Greatly wondering, he +called on them that morning, and was received by the head of the firm, +who handed him a bulky letter. + +“This was received from our client, and your friend, the Honourable +Hugh Craig, very shortly after the terrible tragedy, with instructions +to hand it to you after the lapse of a certain period which has now +expired. I am filled with curiosity to know if this letter, dispatched +to us on the morning of the day on which this awful thing occurred, +throws any light upon the affair.” + +Leonard read slowly through the long communication, and, laying it +down, met the inquiring gaze of the solicitor. + +“Yes,” he said, in a sad voice. “This reveals the motives which +impelled him to attempt the life of Elise Makris, and make an end of +his own. I will tell you.” + + + + + CHAPTER THREE + +“First, I will read you the opening sentences of the letter,” said +Leonard. And this is what he read: + + + “To you, my very dear friend, whose friendship has been one of the + most pleasurable things in my life, to the memories of which I look + back with a feeling of great tenderness as I pen these lines, the last + I shall ever write upon earth, I reveal the secret of the tragedy + which will shortly take place. In Nice the affair will, naturally, be + a nine days’ wonder. Nice, this fair and lovely city of aristocratic + crookdom, where vice and virtue rub shoulders at every hour of the + twenty-four, and where the cleverest criminals of the world congregate + in the pursuit of their nefarious calling! Nice, where I first met the + only woman who ever stirred my pulses, who made me realize the meaning + of ardent, overmastering love! When you read these words, perhaps you + will smile at the idea of the cautious diplomatist, the rather cynical + young man of the world, confessing to being violently in love. But it + is the truth. I had passed unscathed up to a few years ago, + indifferent to the charms of the many beautiful women I had met in my + own country and elsewhere, until I made the acquaintance of Elise + Makris. Then suddenly I realized, poor fool as I was, that I had found + my ideal. To me she stood for the perfection of womanhood. + + “To-night I am going to kill her, because she has betrayed my faith in + her, because I have proved she is base and unworthy. And when I have + accomplished this justifiable vengeance, there is nothing left for me + but to end my own life. By the time you receive this letter the nine + days’ wonder will have died out, and the memory of Hugh Craig will + only linger in the hearts of one or two faithful friends like + yourself. The details I am about to relate will not interest the + world, but you are at perfect liberty to communicate them to anybody + you think it may concern.” + + +“As you are such an old and confidential friend of the Clandon family, +Mr. Shelford,” said the young man when he had finished reading this +preliminary portion of the letter, “I feel quite justified in reading +to you what my poor, unfortunate friend has disclosed to me.” + +From the astounding narrative to which Mr. Shelford listened, he +learned the following remarkable facts: Mrs. Makris, the mother of +Elise, a very beautiful young woman, had posed, ever since Craig knew +her, as the widow of a Greek merchant who had left her comfortably +off. Her late husband’s fortune was settled upon her for life, she +told him, and her daughter would inherit it at her death. + +It was on Craig’s last visit to Nice, and then only towards the end of +it, that his suspicions concerning the truth of her story were +aroused. Elise had addressed to him by mistake a letter intended for +somebody else, a letter of a most suspicious character, betraying her +acquaintance with a very questionable set of people. When he asked her +for an explanation, her replies were evasive and unsatisfactory, so +much so that he at once came to the conclusion that both the girl and +her mother were quite different from what they seemed. + +He did not at once break off with her, wishing to test the truth of +his suspicions. For this purpose he secured the services of a private +inquiry agent, without doubt the shabby furtive-looking man to whom +Leonard had seen him talking in that quiet side street. + +This man soon discovered the horrible fact that both the woman and her +daughter were connected with a well-known gang of international +crooks. Elise, with her beauty and charm, was one of their most useful +decoys, and under another name had served a term of imprisonment a +short time before Craig had made her acquaintance. The woman Makris +had never been married, so he alleged; the girl was her illegitimate +daughter, the father having been a member of the same gang. To the +young man, whose affections she had captured, Elise had represented +herself as a model of simplicity and purity. As they did not see each +other very frequently, it was the more easy for her to maintain the +double rôle of sweetheart to him and the clever decoy of these +unscrupulous scoundrels. But for her own carelessness in putting the +wrong letter into the envelope directed to him, Craig had made up his +mind to marry her privately and tell his family afterwards. + +“A most astounding story,” was the remark of the shrewd and +experienced lawyer when the narrative was finished. “Poor fellow, one +cannot but pity him in spite of the fact that he took the law into his +own hands. The discovery of her baseness must have overthrown his +reason. How deceptive are appearances. One would have judged him the +last man in the world to be swayed by violent passions. Clearly the +mind must have given way under the shock.” + +“There are some rather obscure hints that he had been subjected to +blackmail, and that through this man he employed, he was able to trace +it to her agency. That of course would have a maddening effect upon +any man in a similar position.” + +Mr. Sheldon knitted his brows. “I wish he had been a little more +explicit on that point. We do not know whether this girl is alive or +dead. When Hugh’s brother left Nice, she was hovering between life and +death in the hospital to which they had taken her. If she has +recovered, I should very much like to find the young woman, although +it doesn’t appear that it would serve any very useful purpose if I +did.” + +Lydon also expressed his wish that, if she had escaped her lover’s +vengeance, Elise Makris, the decoy of blackmailers, should be found. +Mr. Shelford promised to instruct his agent in Nice to make inquiries +at once. + +The tragedy had cast a deep shadow over Lydon. Even the prospect of +meeting again with Gloria Stormont could not restore him to his old +cheerfulness, nor blot out the memory of those sinister happenings at +the peaceful-looking Villa des Cyclamens. + +Gloria looked very charming and radiant when she arrived at Waterloo +Station, where Leonard was awaiting her. + +“It was a little indiscreet of us to arrange meeting here,” she said +with a blush as they shook hands. “Somebody who knew me might have +travelled in the same train; that would have been awkward. It was +silly of me to overlook that.” + +“And equally silly on my part,” replied the young man. “Well, on a +future occasion, we must avoid a similar mistake. Well, now about +lunch. I was going to suggest the _Berkeley_ or the _Savoy_. But +perhaps we had better get off the beaten track?” + +Miss Stormont agreed. Several people she knew frequented both these +popular places. They finally went to a excellent restaurant in the +Strand. + +They had a very enjoyable time together. There was not a trace of +coquetry about her, but she seemed to envisage the situation with +perfect frankness. If Lydon had not been attracted by her, he would +not have asked her to lunch. If she had not been equally attracted by +him, she would not have accepted his invitation. They might therefore +take for granted the fact of their mutual attraction, and not pretend +an embarrassment they did not feel. + +When they parted, and he pressed for another meeting, she consented +quite readily, adding, “I hope, however, we shall not have to keep up +this _sub-rosa_ business very long. Uncle was speaking last night of +you and saying how much he liked you. You can guess how difficult it +was to keep myself from blushing. I suggested that as he liked you so +much, why did he not ask you to pay a visit? He did not exactly adopt +the suggestion at once, but I’m sure the idea is germinating in his +mind and will presently blossom forth.” + +Lydon looked the delight he felt. “So you think I may receive a formal +invitation to go down to Effington. That would be very pleasant. In +the meantime our engagement for next week holds good.” + +“Most certainly,” was the girl’s unaffected answer. He put her in a +taxi and directed the driver to take her to Waterloo Station. It was +not safe for him to go with her, much as he would have liked to do so. +At this hour of the day some of the early birds might be returning +home, and at this stage of the proceedings it was not politic for Miss +Stormont to be seen by any of her neighbours in the company of a +good-looking young man. + +The next week when he met her, almost the first words she said were, +“Have you heard from Uncle Howard?” + +He answered that he had not, and she proceeded to explain: “Well, the +idea has blossomed. Two days ago at breakfast, he announced solemnly +to auntie and myself that he was going to write to you at the address +in Ryder Street you gave him, and ask you down for a week-end. To-day +is Wednesday; you ought to have had the letter by now. But perhaps he +didn’t intend to ask you for this week-end but the next. Uncle is very +impetuous in some things but slow-moving in others. And if it is for +the following week, naturally he wouldn’t be in a hurry.” + +It was, however, this week-end that the genial Stormont had fixed in +his mind. When Lydon went home that night the precious letter was +awaiting him, having arrived by a midday post. If Mr. Lydon had no +previous engagement, would he spend next Saturday to Monday, or, if +possible, Tuesday, at Effington? If so, Stormont would meet him at +Waterloo by a certain train and they would go down together. + +Of course, he sent an immediate reply. So, at last, he was made free +of Effington; he would see his beloved Gloria in her own home, and be +able to feast his eyes upon her for several hours. If Howard Stormont +was as unconventional as his appearance and manners proclaimed, there +would be an end of the _sub-rosa_ meetings. In these advanced days, +when the chaperone is nearly as extinct as the dodo, he would be able +to ask her openly to lunch with him when she came up to London to do +her shopping. It was a great step gained. + +On the Friday before his visit, he had a summons from Shelford, the +solicitor, who had heard from his agent in Nice. + +Elise Makris was alive, wonderful to relate. For some days the doctors +had entertained little or no hope. Then suddenly the tide had turned, +and she had made a remarkable rally. Three days before Shelford’s +letter of instructions reached Nice, she had been discharged from the +hospital, still somewhat weak, but in no danger of a relapse. She had +returned to the Villa des Cyclamens, which on the next day was +evacuated. Madame Makris had paid up all she owed, and she and her +daughter had gone away, nobody knew whither. + +The agent had made some inquiries of the police, and had also found +out the man employed by Craig in his researches into the past of the +girl whom he had so passionately loved and found so unworthy. He +gathered that she and her mother were members of a big organization +belonging to the exclusive circles of what might be called +aristocratic crookdom. Many of the subordinates were known to the +guardians of the law under different aliases, Madame Makris, a very +old offender, and her daughter being amongst them. But the chiefs of +the gang, the daring spirits who engineered the great coups, remained +in seclusion, men not only of great ability, but possibly of +considerable wealth. They never came out into the open, and nobody +could lay hands on them. + +So Elise Makris, after that lucky escape from her enraged lover’s +bullet, had disappeared where, in all human probability, no friend of +Hugh would ever be able to find her. She and her mother had no doubt +gone to another country, and would conceal their identity under other +names. That of Makris had been made too public by recent events. + +The only description Lydon had of her was a somewhat indefinite one, +taken from the _Phare du Littoral_, the Nice daily newspaper. There +were, however, two clues still remaining, if ever he should chance to +be thrown into contact with her. She would carry to her grave the mark +of her dead lover’s bullet; no surgery could obliterate that. And she +would wear that remarkable carved sapphire pendant which her mother +declared she always carried about with her as a mascot. By those signs +he would recognize Elise Makris under whatever alias she chose to +masquerade. + +“That seems to close the chapter,” remarked Mr. Shelford, when he had +imparted all that he had learned from his agent. “A terrible blow to +the Clandon family. I saw his brother yesterday; he tells me the old +people are prostrated with grief. That a man of the promise of Hugh +Craig, with a brilliant future stretching in front of him, should have +sought to imbrue his hands in the blood of such a shameless creature! +It passes comprehension.” + +On the Saturday morning Lydon met Stormont at Waterloo Station, and +they travelled down to Guildford together by an early train. At +Guildford they were met by a splendid Rolls-Royce car driven by one of +the smartest of chauffeurs. Profiteer or not, as the case might be, +Howard Stormont knew how to do things properly. + +They went through a few miles of the beautiful Surrey country, till +they came to some big open lodge gates. Passing through these, they +drove up a broad avenue, shadowed by some splendid trees which would +look magnificent later on in their summer raiment, and drew up before +the low picturesque house. + +The coming of the car had been heard evidently, for the hall door +stood wide open to receive the owner and his guest. Behind the +decorous form of the stately white-haired butler, Duncan, appeared the +gaily-apparelled Mrs. Barnard, and the slim exquisite figure of the +smiling Gloria. + +Stormont sprang out of the car and grasped Leonard’s hand in a hearty +grip. “Welcome, my dear boy, to Effington,” he said in his loud, +ringing voice. + + + + + CHAPTER FOUR + +There was a big dinner party in the evening, somewhat to Leonard’s +disappointment. He had hoped they would have spent the first night by +themselves, so that he would have an opportunity of appropriating more +or less the charming Gloria. Instead of this, she would be lost to him +amidst a crowd. + +Perhaps it was Howard Stormont’s way of impressing a new guest. Craig +had always said the man was a vulgarian at heart, and that the +vulgarity was always peeping through the thin veneer of a +lately-acquired refinement. Lydon was far from prepared to go this +length, but he did wish his host had avoided so much ostentation the +first time he sat at his table. + +The house was run on very magnificent lines, and the rather +overpowering sense of wealth depressed him a little. In spite of her +frank and unaffected manners, it made Gloria seem very far away from +him. Even if she reciprocated his feelings, how could he dare to think +of taking her from such a splendid home as this to share his own very +moderate fortunes? + +There were about a dozen people to dinner besides himself and the +Stormonts. The white-haired Duncan was assisted by four footmen. The +majority of the guests were neighbours, a few obviously with the stamp +of the county on them. Two married couples were London friends and had +come down to dine and stay the week-end like Lydon himself. The dinner +was a very lengthy affair, exquisitely cooked and served with the +utmost elegance. The wines and liqueurs were of unexceptionable +quality. + +Lydon’s father, probably a man of greater wealth than Stormont, had +lived in much the same profuse style. But Leonard had not seen a great +deal of it; he had been away from home so much. His own tastes were +very simple, and he had no hankerings after luxury. + +To judge by Howard Stormont’s beaming countenance, as he sat at his +end of the table, with a rather severe-looking “county” lady on his +right, he seemed to revel in it. Lydon did not think for a moment that +the man had been born to it; from many little signs he could deduce +the contrary. But possibly he was one of those ambitious souls to whom +magnificent surroundings seem a quite commonplace part of their +environment. What to Lydon seemed ostentation only appeared to the +other ordinary comfort. + +And what about Gloria? Was all this wealth and luxury, these dainty, +never-ending dishes, this army of deftly-trained servants an absolute +necessity of her well-being, as it seemed to that of her uncle and the +richly-dressed Mrs. Barnard, who beamed as benignly on their guests as +her portly and rubicund brother? + +Well, he did not know enough of her yet to decide. All he did know was +that she looked very beautiful in some soft shimmering fabric that +displayed to perfection the ivory white of her well-poised neck and +rounded arms. Now and then he caught a kindly glance, speaking of more +than ordinary acquaintance, from the soft, pretty blue eyes. Now and +again he caught her low, sweet laugh at some remark of her neighbour. + +Lydon had for his partner one of the county people, a young married +woman, Mrs. Lycett, not very remarkable for good looks, but very +lively and voluble. He learned afterwards that she was a very +important person in her set, by reason of her various accomplishments. +She was a keen and prominent golfer, a daring and fearless rider to +hounds, an adept at every kind of sport. + +As Lydon was no mean sportsman himself, he got on very well with this +voluble person, who chattered away to him about her prowess. But all +the same, Mrs. Lycett, with her vivid account of her feats in so many +departments of sport, could not make up to him for Gloria. She was an +athletic girl too, but she had not that slight touch of the masculine +which rather disfigured Mrs. Lycett, and, above all, Gloria did not +boast about her achievements. She was so distinctly feminine and +lovable. Long before the protracted meal was over, Leonard found +himself growing more than a little weary. He had not bargained for +being thrust so suddenly into a crowd of absolute strangers. He looked +back with pleasure on his two _sub-rosa_ meetings with the beautiful +girl, whose glance he only occasionally met across the big +dinner-table. + +After dinner the men sat for a little time to smoke a cigarette and +then joined the ladies. Soon the large party split up into groups. +Some went to the billiard-room, most sat down to bridge. A few +clustered round the piano, where Gloria sang some very charming songs +in a well-trained voice. Lydon joined this particular group, not +because he was so keen on music, but from a desire to be as near to +Gloria as possible. + +At a fairly early hour in the evening, carriages were announced, and +the neighbours departed, almost in a body. Only the house party was +left, and after a little while the ladies took their candles, and the +men adjourned to the smoking-room, a handsome apartment decorated in +the Moorish style, for a final chat. The two visitors from London were +elderly men, contemporaries of the host, and their conversation was +chiefly about general topics in which the three were interested. + +The next day, Sunday, was, on the whole, quite enjoyable. Everybody +except one of the London men went to church in the morning. In the +afternoon, Leonard, to his great delight, got Gloria to himself, and +they went for a long walk from after lunch till close upon tea-time. +No other guests were present at dinner, for which the young man was +very grateful. The elderly people gravitated naturally to each other, +and left the young couple very much to themselves. + +They carried on a low-toned conversation at the far end of the big +drawing-room. In the course of it, Leonard suggested they should soon +have another lunch in town, Gloria was quite willing. “I think you can +suggest it quite openly now,” she said. “As a matter of fact, you can +include auntie if you like, but she will be quite certain to refuse. +She has so many interests at Effington and she so loves the place, +that it is difficult to drag her up to London except when she wants +new clothes. And really you might pay Uncle Howard the compliment +also, and, ten to one, the result would be the same. He takes a good +many holidays, but when he does go to his business he works like a +horse, so at least he tells us, and has no time for frivolity.” + +“Works hard and plays hard,” remarked Lydon. “So far as I can judge +from my short stay here, he seems to revel in the good things of +life.” + +Miss Stormont smiled. “You have judged him quite accurately. My dear +old uncle is a perfect sybarite, a crumpled rose-leaf in his bed would +disturb him acutely. He likes the best of everything, ‘the best that +money can buy,’ as he puts it in his rather blunt fashion. The most +perfect food, the choicest cigars, the rarest wines. Of course he has +to dine out here a good deal, as he cannot affront his neighbours by +refusing. But the dear man really prefers entertaining to being +entertained.” + +“When he entertains, he is sure of the quality, eh? He knows he won’t +be put off with the second best,” laughed Lydon. “Away from home he +might get an inferior vintage or an inferior cigar.” + +“I am afraid he has that idea at the back of his mind,” admitted his +niece. + +“Well, if he should accept my invitation to lunch, I will take him to +my best club and allow him to order the luncheon,” said Lydon, +speaking in the same light spirit. “Well, what about Mrs. Barnard? Is +she a sybarite like her brother?” + +“Not in the least. Like me, her individual tastes are very simple, she +likes moderate comfort, but she has no hankering after luxury. She is +a frightfully energetic woman, busies herself in everything going on +in the neighbourhood, local charities and so forth, and writes letters +by the score. She would die of _ennui_ if her hands were not fully +occupied. And, of course, at her time of life, sport has no attraction +for her. She is rather devoted to bridge, but she never plays it till +the evening.” + +Lydon was very pleased to hear that Gloria had simple tastes, that +luxury was not essential to her. Presently he said to her: “Do you +know, I have got a little whim that I should like to have just another +of those quiet little meetings before we take the others into our +confidence. I wonder if you would very much mind?” + +Miss Stormont had one very delightful feminine trait, she was always +ready to admit the supremacy of the sterner sex, and give way to them +wherever it was consistent with her own dignity. + +“If you very much wish it, I don’t mind in the least,” she answered +sweetly. “But I would like to know the reason of this whim.” + +“I am afraid I cannot give a very lucid explanation,” said the young +man rather lamely. “Somehow, I seem to like you in a somewhat less +gorgeous setting than this. You are housed like a Princess.” + +She looked at him with comprehending eyes. “Does it oppress you just a +little bit, this--this magnificence?” she asked. + +“A tiny bit, I must confess,” he admitted, admiring her quickness. + +She looked thoughtful. “I had rather the same feeling when I first +came to live with my uncle. My father has a good position in China, +but he is not of course a rich man, and our life out there was quite +simple compared to this. I am rather surprised though about you. From +what I am told, your father was quite a wealthy man, uncle says, much +richer than himself. You must have been used to it all your life.” + +“Not quite. All the time we children were at school--and my dear +father gave us the best of educations, he thought that was the most +priceless asset a man could bestow upon his offspring--our home was +conducted upon a comfortable but perfectly modest scale. It was not +till after I left Oxford that he launched out into something like +this. And during those very fat years I was seldom at home. So I had +really no time to grow in love with luxury.” + +“I don’t know that I am really in love with it. I mean it would cause +me no pain to descend to a much lower standard of living. But to uncle +all this is the breath of his nostrils; he is naturally one of the +most reckless and extravagant of men. He scatters money with an +absolutely lavish hand. I am sure that auntie, who, of course, knows +more about his affairs than I do, is often frightfully worried about +it. She has often tried to dissuade him from some contemplated +extravagance, but to no purpose.” + +These remarks gave rise to a new train of thought in Lydon’s mind. +Were things quite satisfactory at Effington? Was this army of servants +of all descriptions, footmen, gardeners and chauffeurs, perfectly +justifiable? If Howard Stormont was living within his income, why +should his sister be worried? Was the man one of those you so often +meet with, who can make money but cannot hold it? Was he living up to +the hilt, and might some sudden turn of fortune’s wheel bring him +headlong to the ground? He would have liked to question Gloria a +little closely on the subject, but their acquaintance was too recent +for him to take such a liberty. No doubt he would learn more later on. + +But if it was the fact that, in his selfish desire for luxury, he was +spending money as fast as he made it, and putting by nothing for a +rainy day, something that had puzzled Lydon became easily capable of +explanation. In this case, Gloria would not be an heiress, and her +uncle had not formed any grandiose plans for her future. He would be +content if she could marry a man who would keep her comfortably, and +not expect any fortune with her. + +And, as a result of this hypothesis, Howard Stormont fell distinctly +in his estimation. He was simply living for his own gratification, +oblivious of those he left behind; in Lydon’s opinion, the most +contemptible conduct any man could be capable of. + +On Monday morning the two elderly couples departed. The young man +would have gone also, but on the Sunday night Stormont took him on one +side and pressed him to stop another day, if his business engagements +would permit. + +“I very rarely go up on a Monday myself, unless there is something +very urgent,” he had said. “And, at my age, I think I may be permitted +to allow myself a little latitude. I simply love pottering about this +dear old place; although I have had it for some time now, it is still +a new toy to me, after being pent up in cities nearly the whole of my +working life. Stop till Tuesday morning, and we will go up together.” + +Lydon, nothing loath, agreed to the pleasing proposition. The Monday +was the happiest day of his visit. Soon after breakfast Stormont went +off on his own. Mrs. Barnard was fully occupied during the morning and +afternoon, and he had Gloria practically to himself until it was time +to dress for dinner. + +That evening in the smoking-room Lydon told his host what Hugh had +disclosed in that letter which the solicitor, Shelford, had handed to +him. He fancied that Stormont did not take very much interest in the +matter. This, however, was hardly to be wondered at, as Hugh had +always treated the man with a certain _hauteur_ which he could not +have helped observing, had he been a much less intelligent person than +he was. When the story was finished, Lydon learned a piece of the +Clandon family history that was unknown to him. + +“A very remarkable family, the Clandons; I know a little about them,” +he remarked. + +It was by no means the first time the young man had noticed that +Stormont always seemed to know a good deal about everybody who was of +any importance in the world. According to what Gloria had let drop, he +knew that Lydon’s father had been a man of considerable wealth. He +rather wondered where this information was procured. Stormont of +course knew a great many people about Effington, but so much gossip of +the big world would hardly filter there. He had never heard him speak +of numerous acquaintances in London, and so far as Leonard knew, he +did not belong to any London club, a circumstance which in a man of +his apparent wealth seemed rather peculiar. + +“A very remarkable family, the Clandons,” repeated the genial, +rubicund man. “Remarkable in this respect, that for some generations +they have transmitted to their descendants a very high order of +intelligence. They have never produced any first-class brains, it is +true. They have never boasted a Prime Minister, a great general, a +distinguished lawyer, but several of them have filled second and +third-rate posts with some distinction. This poor chap who killed +himself after trying to murder the girl, for example. I don’t suppose +he would have been a Stratford de Redcliffe, or a von Bieberstein, but +he would no doubt have developed into a quite respectable diplomatist +of the average order.” + +It hurt Lydon to hear him speak of his old friend in such a slighting +manner. But Hugh had certainly taken no pains to conceal his dislike +of “the aggressive profiteer,” and Stormont was human. The next words +startled him greatly. + +“Well, as I told you, I know some things about the Clandon family, one +a fact not at all generally known. By the light of that knowledge, +your friend’s act can be accounted for. There was insanity on both +sides, the mother’s and the father’s.” + +“You astound me,” cried Lydon in genuine amazement. “I never had a +suspicion of this. But then how should I have? Even if Hugh was +acquainted with the fact, which it is more than likely he was, he +would scarcely reveal it even to his best friend.” + +“Quite so,” assented Stormont. “Men don’t speak of these painful +things as a rule. But you can rest assured that what I have told you +is quite true. The uncle of the present holder of the title, Hugh +Craig’s father, a man of good fortune, endowed with all the blessings +of life, cut his throat in his bath one morning without any apparent +reason or motive; this man’s sister, Lord Clandon’s aunt, died a +raving lunatic. On the mother’s side, Lady Clandon has a younger +brother who has been in a private asylum for the last twenty-five +years. It is not generally known outside the family. My sources of +information happened to be rather exclusive. So you see the taint +suddenly developed in this poor chap as soon as he got an overpowering +shock.” + +So the family history accounted for poor Hugh’s sudden aberration. The +mysterious malady of madness that sometimes passes a whole generation, +to break out with virulence in the next one! + +On the Tuesday morning Leonard travelled up with his host. They parted +at Waterloo Station, as Stormont said his offices were in the City, +while those of Leonard were in Victoria Street. The young man was +warmly pressed to pay another visit to Effington at an early date. + +Obviously this genial uncle was not going to put any obstacle in the +way of increased intimacy between the young people. The very +significant facts admitted by Gloria seemed to solve what might +otherwise have proved a puzzling problem. Mr. Howard Stormont had +apparently made up his mind to live for the day, and to say with the +French monarch, “Après moi le déluge.” + +A few days later he met Gloria at the luncheon which she had agreed +should be a secret one. She was very sweet and amiable, but evidently +her conscience pricked her, for when they parted she told him firmly +it must be the last under such conditions. + +“There is really no longer any necessity for it,” she said. “Uncle +likes you very much, and he has now made you free of Effington. If he +disapproved of our friendship, he would not ask you to his home.” + +“You are quite right,” admitted Lydon. “It was a foolish sort of whim +of mine. I could not quite get it out of my mind that if I took such a +liberty with the niece of the owner of such a splendid place as +Effington Hall, he would send me to the right-about.” + +Gloria laughed, told him that he seemed an exceedingly modest young +man, and hoped he would always remain so. It was evident that Stormont +desired his friendship, for on the following Friday he rang him up, +and inquired if he would go down with him to Effington the next day. + +Of course, the young man was only too pleased to go. He had not +ventured to hope that he would see Gloria again so soon. Stormont was +at the station awaiting him, and with him was a tall, thin man of +about the same age as himself, whom he introduced as Mr. Whitehouse. +This gentleman was a quiet, reserved sort of person, and Lydon did not +feel particularly attracted to him. Stormont added an explanation that +they were very old friends, and did a good deal of business together. +As he said this, Leonard remembered that he had never heard the nature +of Stormont’s business either from himself or his niece. + +This visit was quite a different one from the last. No big dinner +party at night with the army of well-trained servants in attendance; +just a cosy meal in a smaller apartment, half morning-room, half +dining-room. Mr. Whitehouse seemed well known to the household, but he +was not by any means a great talker. Probably he had come down to +discuss business matters with his host. + +After dinner the two elder men retired to Stormont’s study. Lydon went +with the ladies into the drawing-room, Stormont excusing his absence +with the genial remark that they were treating him as one of the +family. + +After Gloria had played and sung a little, she proposed that they +should adjourn for billiards, a game at which she was no mean +performer. The billiard-room was next to Stormont’s study, the door of +which was open, and as they went in Lydon heard these words uttered in +Whitehouse’s rather deep voice: + +“Yes, it is most unfortunate that the thing should have happened at +the moment it did. She is absolutely essential to this particular +scheme. We can’t start it without her.” + +These words made the young man wonder a good deal. What possible +business could it be, to the prosecution of which a certain woman was +essential? + + + + + CHAPTER FIVE + +He had always felt curious on the subject of Stormont’s business, +one which evidently brought him in a large income, for how otherwise +could he have maintained the upkeep of such an expensive place as +Effington. It was strange, too, that the man had never made any +allusion to it himself, more especially as he did not appear to be of +a reticent or secretive nature. With the majority of persons it is not +necessary to know them for very long before they let drop something +that proclaims their occupation. + +He had told the Stormonts all about himself on the occasion of his +second meeting with them at Brighton, without any reserve. If he had +foregathered more intimately with them at Nice, he would have told +them then. Even with such a very reticent man as Craig, you could not +have been in his society for a few hours without learning that he was +a member of the diplomatic corps. It certainly was odd that Stormont +never dropped a remark that enabled you to fix his occupation. He +occasionally spoke of himself as a business man, and that was all. + +To carry on any sort of business, he must have an office or offices +somewhere, and presumably they were in London. But Stormont had never +given him the address. Only once, when they had travelled together up +to London and parted at Waterloo, he had mentioned that he was bound +for the City, a sufficiently vague definition. + +Those words he had overheard uttered by the man Whitehouse aggravated +the curiosity he had for long felt on the subject since he had become +so intimately acquainted with the family. + +Very delicately he questioned Gloria as they proceeded with their game +in the billiard-room. + +“I suppose business does not take up all your uncle’s time? He spends +a good deal of it in this delightful place,” he said. + +There was not the slightest hesitation in the girl’s reply. He had +long ago made up his mind that everything about Gloria Stormont was +open and above-board. How frank she had been about herself, and her +youthful days in China with her father and mother. + +“I shouldn’t say he went up to London more than three days a week on +an average; his heart has been wrapt up in Effington ever since he +bought it from young Sedgemere a few years ago. When we lived in +London itself, he used to work much harder.” + +“Oh, you lived in London before you came here,” said Leonard, who +learned this fact for the first time. Certainly Stormont was a very +reticent fellow about strictly personal matters. He had never made any +allusion to a previous home which, from his intense fondness for rural +life, the young man fancied might have been in the country. + +“Yes, we had a dear old eighteenth-century house in Curzon Street. It +was very comfortable and convenient, but my aunt and I welcomed the +change as much as he did. I should hate to go back to town life again +after this sweet Effington.” + +“I suppose you had a very large circle of acquaintances in town?” +asked Lydon, still pursuing his questioning. + +“Not large at all, considering the fact that my uncle seemed so well +off,” was the frank answer. “He honestly owns that he is not very fond +of general society. He has a few friends who come down here now and +again. There were some of them with us on your first visit. Of course +we know a lot of people round about here, in fact a great many more +than in London.” + +“You travel a great deal, don’t you? Mr. Stormont seems well +acquainted with all the principal places in Europe.” This was one of +the subjects on which her uncle had not been reticent. His knowledge +of the Continent, of the customs and habits of the different foreign +nations, was extensive and exhaustive, and he always seemed pleased to +air it. + +“Oh, uncle is a tremendous traveller; he has been everywhere and seen +everything; but he has not travelled so much since we have been here, +a matter of some five years. Before that he used to be away the +greater part of the year. Sometimes my aunt and I went with him, but +usually he went alone. His business took him a good deal abroad, you +know.” + +Here was the opportunity he had been waiting for, and he hastened to +seize it. “It seems rather funny, one learns these things so soon, as +a rule. But I have never heard what your uncle’s business is.” + +Gloria’s reply was perfectly free from embarrassment. “It is connected +with finance; I suppose he is what you call a financier.” + +So the secret was out: the owner of Effington Hall was a financier. +Well, there were a good many people belonging to that profession, some +of them quite reputable, controlling vast interests, some of them +quite the reverse, addicted to very shady doings. No doubt the +rubicund Stormont was one of the respectable ones, but why the deuce +had he been so reticent about it? The proper pursuit of finance was +quite a respectable calling. When a man does not openly mention his +occupation, his silence rather gives you the idea he is secretly +ashamed of it. + +It was quite within the bounds of possibility that Stormont was not +amongst the high spirits of the financial world, that his activities +inclined a little to the shady side of the profession. But if that +were so, would he have had the hardihood to buy Effington, and run the +gauntlet of the respectable people of the neighbourhood? + +On the Sunday morning Stormont absented himself from church, contrary +to his usual custom. Mr. Whitehouse remained at home to keep him +company. All the others went as they had done on the previous +occasion. Lydon had a shrewd suspicion that the two men wanted to be +alone to discuss business affairs. Evidently matters were settled +during the morning, for the two men did not shut themselves up again +during the rest of the day. + +Whitehouse might possibly be an excellent man of business, but he was +not a lively or inspiring person. Grave and taciturn to a degree, he +spoke very little, and only when addressed directly by his host or +some other member of the party. He did not volunteer conversation. +From a few hints dropped by Gloria, Leonard gathered that the women +rather disliked him, and looked upon him as a wet blanket. + +In reply to further questioning, Miss Stormont said that he used to be +a frequent visitor to Curzon Street; but since they had taken up their +residence at Effington, he came somewhat infrequently, not more than +three or four times in the year, and then only for a stay of a day or +two. She understood that he and her uncle had been connected in +business for many years and that they had a very great regard for each +other. + +Whitehouse left directly after breakfast on the Monday morning, and +Lydon hailed his departure with pleasure. There was something rather +repellent about the man, with his taciturnity, his unsmiling gravity, +his deep-set eyes and sombre gaze. For himself, he accepted Stormont’s +cordial invitation to stay another day, during which he enjoyed the +society of the charming Gloria to the full. + +He had expected that his host would accompany him to town on the +Tuesday morning, but Stormont announced that, as the weather was so +fine, he had made up his mind to take a week’s holiday. Lydon thought +it must be a very accommodating business that allowed him so much +leisure, more especially in view of the fact, inadvertently dropped by +Gloria, that he was in a certain sense living from hand to mouth, at +any rate spending money as fast as he made it. + +Mrs. Barnard said good-bye to him in the dining-room after breakfast. +Stormont and his niece went with him into the hall. When he had shaken +hands with them, rather a lingering process in the case of Gloria, +Stormont detained him with a gesture, and went out to tell the +chauffeur to drive down to the lodge gates and await them there. “Just +a word with you, my boy, before you go,” he said, linking his arm in +that of the young man and conducting him slowly down the avenue, +leaving a rather surprised Gloria behind. + +When they were well out of earshot, he spoke. “Look here, my dear +Leonard, I hope you don’t mind me calling you by your Christian name, +but I think we are now intimate enough to excuse the liberty.” + +“Not in the least,” answered Lydon, who wondered what was coming. + +“Thanks. I want to tell you that I’m not blind, neither is my sister. +You are in love with Gloria, aren’t you?” + +Leonard was rather taken aback by the direct question. In his +confusion he could not make any coherent reply. “I am,” he stammered, +“But, of course, I--I--I----” He could not finish the sentence. + +“I quite understand, my dear fellow,” said Stormont, his broad +rubicund face relaxing into a smile. “You admit you love Gloria. I +wanted you to be quite frank and open with me in the matter. I don’t +wonder at it, for she is a sweet girl, one out of a thousand, +charming, honest, open as the day. Well, I will let you into a little +secret. If my observations are correct, I believe she returns your +affection. My sister thinks so too, and women can read each other +pretty well as a rule.” + +He spoke in his hearty, breezy way. In spite of Craig’s caustic +criticism of him, there was something engaging about the personality +of the homely-looking man. Lydon could not help flushing. “It makes me +inexpressibly happy, sir, to hear you say that. I take it, from your +telling me so much, that you do not disapprove. Have I your permission +to speak to Miss Stormont?” + +“When and as soon as you please,” was the hearty response, “I had half +made up my mind to tell you yesterday. I wish I had; I dare say by now +I should have been congratulating you and my niece. Personally I am +very pleased that you have fixed your affections on Gloria. So is Mrs. +Barnard, who is a shrewd judge of character. In common with myself, +she likes you very much and thinks you would make an excellent +husband. Well, I can’t say more, can I? Run down here again next week, +and fix it up. Come as often as you like. My sister and I love young +people about the house.” + +Lydon thanked him in warm terms for having made his wooing so easy. +True, Gloria had not yet revealed her feelings, but in his heart he +had not much doubt as to what they were. + +But Stormont had not yet said all he wanted. As they drew near to the +lodge gates, where the car was waiting, he motioned the young man to a +halt. + +“Just a little something more, to make everything plain and clear. +Very possibly you have thought that Gloria is the niece of a rich man +and will come into a tidy sum when I die?” + +The young man interrupted him hastily. “I assure you, on my word of +honour, Mr. Stormont, I never speculated on such a contingency. If I +gave it a thought, I was rather depressed by the circumstance than +otherwise. I felt a natural reluctance to ask a girl brought up so +luxuriously to share a very modest fortune.” + +“You’re not the sort of which fortune-hunters are made. I could see +that at a glance, or I should not have been so open with you,” was the +generous reply. He sank his voice very low when he continued: “Well, I +must let you into a little secret which I think nobody suspects. I am +not in the true sense of the term a rich man. I make plenty of money +and I believe I shall continue to do, if my luck holds, as long as I +live. But I am an incurable spendthrift; I fritter as fast as I make. +Of course, you are a totally different temperament from me. At such an +admission you will shrug your shoulders and think I am an insensate +fool.” + +Lydon preserved an embarrassed silence. Had he expressed in words what +he really felt, they would have been far from palatable to the hearer. + +After a short pause, Stormont spoke in a tone of considerable emotion, +as if he were voicing his real remorse. “You cannot blame me any more +than I blame myself. But this love of spending for spending’s sake, +when it once gets hold of a man, is as deadly as any other form of +vice, as drink or gambling. Dozens of times I have tried to check +myself, to act prudently, but to no purpose.” + +Again there was a pause, and again Lydon could find nothing to say, +since if he had spoken he would have been compelled to condemn, in no +measured terms, the man’s contemptible and selfish weakness. + +And Stormont went on in that half-apologetic, wholly shamed voice. “So +when I do die, I shall have lived my life to the full, but I shall +leave next to nothing behind. Mrs. Barnard is provided for; she will +always be able to live in comfort, and luxury makes little appeal to +her. It is on Gloria’s account that I feel remorse, the selfishness of +my conduct.” + +And then at last the young man found something to say: “There is one +thing I should like to tell you, Mr. Stormont, without attempting to +criticize you in any way, a thing I have no right to do. So far as +Gloria is concerned, I am glad she is not likely to be an heiress. I +love her for herself. I want no dowry with her.” + +“It is just what I should have expected from you,” replied the +rubicund financier with a rather melancholy smile. “Well, things may +not turn out so badly for Gloria after all. My brother, her father, is +the exact opposite of myself, a prudent, evenly-balanced man who +counts the cost of everything, looks long before he leaps, and I +should say out of every pound he earns, saves ten shillings. He has a +splendid position, and only another child, a son. He is one of the +justest men I know, and whatever he leaves--I’ll wager it will be no +mean sum--will be divided equitably between his family. So my dear +Gloria may be an heiress in a small way, in the end. Now I have kept +you talking too long, you have got your train to catch. Good-bye for +the present. We shall expect you next week.” + +The two men shook hands and Lydon drove to the station, thinking very +much over Stormont’s somewhat humiliating confession. How deceitful +are appearances! In the eyes of the local circle round Effington, the +man with his lavish expenditure must have passed as a person of +considerable wealth. And yet the real truth was that he was living, in +a sense, from hand to mouth, and that any day might see him stripped +of his fair possessions. + +Well, the way was perfectly clear to him now. He would run down again +next week and ask Gloria to marry him. He would make a lucid statement +of his position to her uncle, if he were not already aware of it. +Stormont was a weak man, a foolish man in most important respects, but +he was certainly not simple-minded, and he seemed to possess an +amazing amount of information about other people. He had probably seen +a report of the elder Lydon’s will in the papers soon after his death, +and knew the exact extent of Leonard’s fortune. + +The next week, availing himself of Stormont’s general invitation, he +went down on the Friday, having written his host to that effect. The +car met him as usual at the station, and to his great delight Gloria +was on the platform to meet him. This was, of course, the first time +she had ever done such a thing, as on the previous occasions he had +travelled down with her uncle. + +When they reached the lodge gates, Lydon halted the car and suggested +to the girl that they should walk up the avenue. She agreed, not +without blushing slightly. He had been unusually quiet during the +journey, as if he were pondering very deeply. No doubt with womanly +intuition she guessed what was in his mind. + +Having resolved upon the step he was taking, he lost no time; as soon +as the chauffeur was out of earshot, he spoke: + +“I was delighted to see you on the platform; somehow it seemed so +intimate. The last time I was at Effington, your uncle brought me +along here, and we had a very serious talk together. Perhaps he has +told you something of this?” + +With a deep blush, the girl admitted that he was correct in his +surmise, and this answer encouraged him to proceed. + +“I love you very much, Gloria. I wonder if you can care for me a +little.” + +Her bosom heaved, there was a tender light in the deep blue eyes, her +lips trembled slightly as she gave him her answer: “I think I can care +for you more than a little.” + +The car by now had reached the stables: a bend in the avenue hid the +lodge gates: there was nobody in sight. He did what any lover worthy +of the name would do under such circumstances. He bent down and +pressed his first kiss upon the sweet lips that made a tremulous +response to his. He and this charming girl, whom he knew he had fallen +in love with at first sight, were now betrothed lovers. + +They walked up to the entrance to the picturesque Tudor house, both +perhaps a little shy from their new-found happiness, the great event +that had happened in their young lives. The door was wide open. +Stormont and his sister stood in the hall to greet them; there was no +white-haired butler, no inconvenient servants to extend a silent +welcoming. Lydon shook hands with his host and hostess, and then +turned with a radiant face to his fiancée. + +“Gloria has made me very happy,” he said simply, by way of announcing +the tremendous fact. + +Mrs. Barnard first kissed her niece, and then bestowed an affectionate +salute upon Leonard. Stormont literally hugged Gloria and wrung the +young man’s hand heartily. “We must celebrate this at once,” he cried +in his loud, ringing voice. “Come along. There is only one wine worthy +of the occasion. I have still left in the cellar a few bottles of a +matchless Krug. We will open one.” + +And, as they went along to the dining-room, Stormont and his sister +leading the way, the young couple following them, Gloria laid her +slender hand on her lover’s arm and whispered, “You have made me very +happy too, dear.” + + + + + CHAPTER SIX + +The week-end was a very quiet one, Lydon being the only guest. The +young man thought this might be due to Stormont’s delicacy, that he +felt it was only kind to allow the lovers to pursue their courtship in +comparative seclusion. But in the following week the phenomenon was +repeated. Nobody came down from London; none of the neighbours were +asked to luncheon or dinner. + +Stormont occupied his time in pottering about the grounds and taking +long walks. But there was a certain restlessness about him, an air of +boredom which showed that this somewhat unusual isolation was not +agreeing with him. Leonard commented on it to his sweetheart. + +Gloria shrugged her shoulders. “He’s always like that when he leads a +quiet life; he is never really happy unless he is surrounded by plenty +of people. He loves crowds.” + +“Perhaps he is sacrificing himself for our sakes,” suggested Leonard. + +The girl’s smile was good-humoured but sceptical. “Uncle Howard has a +heap of good qualities, but I don’t think self-sacrifice is +conspicuous amongst them. To tell you the truth, I think he is going a +bit slow because he is compelled to.” + +They were walking in the beautifully-kept gardens which required a +small army of gardeners to keep in order, and must have cost a pretty +penny to maintain in such perfection. + +Only one interpretation could be put upon her words. “You mean to +infer that he is a bit hard up,” said Lydon bluntly. + +She nodded her pretty head. “Yes, from what auntie told me, he has +been spending a lot more than he ought, and has got to pull up for a +time. These sorts of crises occur now and again. We have had about a +dozen of them at least since we came here, and at such times +entertaining has to be cut down with a ruthless hand. In Curzon Street +I don’t suppose the outgoings were a quarter what they are here. +Auntie says he ought never to have bought the place, considering the +expense it entails. He gets a lot of enjoyment out of it, of course, +but he also gets a lot of worry.” + +“And yet I suppose he is a shrewd business man?” + +“He must be, or he could not make the money he does. But you see he +has got the spendthrift temperament. If he takes a fancy to a thing, +he will have it, whether he can afford it or not. And the fatal thing +about him, and it is that which worries my aunt more, he has no +hesitation about going into debt, if he hasn’t got ready money to pay +for his whims.” + +“Your aunt does not share his extravagant ideas, then?” + +“Oh, dear no. She has a nice little income of her own which she lives +up to, but I am sure she never exceeds it. And she has a most +wholesome horror of debt. I know she is awfully worried now because +some of the tradespeople’s accounts are overdue; they are getting a +bit pressing.” + +Delightful as Effington was, and perfectly satisfying to the lover of +natural beauty, Lydon thought residence there was dearly purchased by +these crises to which she had alluded. So Mr. Stormont was behindhand +with the local tradespeople! What a horrible situation! They would +begin to gossip presently, and then the bubble would be burst amongst +the neighbours. + +“There was a perfect orgy of spending for a couple of months just +before you paid us your first visit,” said Gloria after a short pause +during which her lover was ruminating on the hollowness of the +position at this splendid country residence. “A big dinner party +nearly every day in the week, on the usual lavish scale, and all this +time he was giving liberally, not to say ostentatiously, to all the +local charities. I suppose it was then he overran the constable. You +came in at the fag end of it. Since then the motto seems to have been +retrenchment all round, with a disastrous effect on my uncle’s +spirits.” + +“These crises worry you a good bit, don’t they?” queried her lover. + +“To tell the truth, they do. Much as I love the place--and nobody +could live at Effington without loving it--I often wish that we could +have a place that entailed smaller outgoings. And, of course, one is +always haunted by the fear that one day he will get himself into a +terrible mess from which he cannot extricate himself.” + +Lydon thought this very possible. It was very likely the spendthrift +himself had some premonition of such a catastrophe, and that was the +reason he had almost thrown his niece at the young man’s head. In +spite of her fondness for Effington, perhaps Gloria herself would not +be sorry to exchange all this for a position of less magnificence and +greater security. + +Had he not been convinced of her frank, open nature he might have +thought that the girl had been in league with her uncle to secure him. +But he was sure of her good faith and honesty of purpose. He +remembered her agitation when he had proposed to her in the avenue, +the love-light that had shone in her beautiful eyes. No woman, not +even the most practised coquette, can summon that light at will. + +He did not see his sweetheart at all the following week. The stern +exigencies of his profession called him abroad. At Ryder Street, on +his return, he found a letter from Stormont awaiting him, asking him +to lunch the following day at the _Piccadilly_, as he wished to +consult him on a matter of some urgency. + +Very curious as to what this matter of some urgency could be, Lydon +presented himself at the _Piccadilly_ at the hour appointed. He +noticed a decided change in Stormont in the short time he had parted +from him at his splendid country house. The man’s manner was restless +and jerky, and he looked anxious and worried. + +He ordered a very sumptuous lunch, the most expensive food and wine on +the list. Lydon found it far too sumptuous; he was not accustomed to a +heavy meal in the middle of the day, in fact, was not very keen on the +pleasures of the table at any time. Stormont drank by far the greater +portion of the champagne, and finished up with a couple of liqueurs of +the finest brandy. During the progress of the meal he talked fitfully, +and it was easy to see he had something weighing on his mind; but he +made no allusion to the subject on which he wanted the young man’s +advice. It rather looked as if he were justifying himself before he +could approach it. + +When they had finished, he led the way into the smoking-room, where he +selected a quiet corner suitable for private conversation, and ordered +refreshment. Lydon would take nothing but a cup of coffee. For himself +he ordered a large whisky and soda. When he had taken a deep draught, +he unburdened himself, not without a considerable tinge of +embarrassment in his manner. + +“I am afraid you will think I am taking an infernal liberty, Leonard, +so early in our acquaintance. But the fact is, at the moment I am in a +bit of a hole, and hardly know where to turn.” + +Lydon had an idea of what was coming, by the man’s fidgetiness and +embarrassment, which had been patent from the moment they met. He +murmured some conventional words of condolence, and waited for further +details. + +“I’m expecting a sum of five thousand pounds in a week at the latest, +in fact I may receive it any day between now and then. In the meantime +there are some pressing things I ought to pay. Would it be possible +for you to lend me a thousand pounds for a week, at a fair interest, +of course?” + +It was rather a cool request, even to a man who was about to enter his +family. Leonard was by no means a parsimonious man, but he rather +resented it. Why the deuce did he not manage his finances properly, +curb his extravagance, instead of sponging upon somebody apparently +much poorer than himself? + +He spoke rather coldly; he thought that if he made it too easy, Mr. +Stormont would be encouraged to fall back upon him at any time he +thought fit. “It’s a bit inconvenient, but if you can’t get it +anywhere else, I must do it. Won’t your bank do it?” + +Stormont shook his head. “The manager is a very cross-grained chap, +puts every obstacle in the way of doing you a favour. And, to tell you +the truth, I am just a trifle overdrawn. It is not the most propitious +time to ask for even a short loan.” + +This admission revealed a terrible state of things, thought Lydon. +Just a trifle overdrawn! He had probably drawn his last cheque to pay +for the unnecessarily expensive lunch, unless he had borrowed the +money from his sister. The solid fact emerged that Howard Stormont, +who had driven up to the _Piccadilly_ in his Rolls-Royce, the supposed +man of wealth, the owner of that lordly pleasure-house, Effington +Hall, was at the present moment as hard up as anybody could be. And he +appeared to have no credit, no husbanded resources. He was awaiting +that five thousand which was to come not later than a week, which +might come earlier, which, for all the young man knew, might never +come at all. That request for a thousand pounds might be the last +throw of a desperate gambler. + +Still, if he was going to run the risk, he might as well do the thing +gracefully. “Can you deposit anything in the way of security, in case +of unforeseen accidents?” he inquired casually. He was fairly certain +of what the answer would be, but he wanted to make quite sure as to +whether or not Stormont had any resources. + +Again the financier shook his head. “Nothing that you could call +absolute security,” he replied, his rubicund face growing a shade +redder as he made the damaging admission. “I could, of course, show +you papers proving there is a lot of money coming to me. But as the +accommodation is for so short a time, I should suggest my note of hand +for the amount, plus interest.” + +“I don’t want any interest,” said the young man hastily. “I am not a +money-lender. I am doing this in a friendly way. Well, I’ve a busy +afternoon before me, so, if you don’t mind, we’ll settle this affair +as soon as possible. Drive me round to my rooms in Ryder Street and I +will give you my cheque; I have as much lying at the bank which I was +intending to invest. We can get a bill at the nearest post-office as +we go along.” + +But there was no necessity for this; Stormont had a bill of the +required amount in his case. He explained that he always carried bill +stamps with him, as they were so frequently used in his business +dealings. Lydon did not quite believe this. He thought the man had +taken his acquiescence for granted, and had come prepared. + +They drove to Ryder Street, and in five minutes the transaction was +completed. The rubicund Stormont put the cheque in his pocket, it +being too late in the afternoon to pay it in, and drove back to +Effington in his opulent-looking car, leaving Lydon wondering whether +he should ever see his money back, whether that five thousand pounds +was a myth invented for the occasion. + +It was on the Tuesday that this affair took place, and it was +understood that Lydon would go down to Effington on the following +Friday. His confidence in Stormont was now so rudely shaken that he +was prepared for anything unexpected to happen in the meantime. He +would not have been surprised to receive a frantic letter from him to +the effect that he was flying the country, that Mrs. Barnard and +Gloria were seeking refuge in some suburb round London, and that +Effington Hall was up for sale. + +Lydon rather wondered what was his position with regard to this +splendid mansion. Originally he must have been able to put his hands +on a considerable sum of money for its purchase. In all probability it +was now mortgaged up to the hilt. + +Happily, nothing of such a disturbing nature happened. On his arrival +at Guildford Station, Gloria met him in the car. She was, of course, +delighted to see him again after his brief absence; but her lover +fancied there was just a shade of embarrassment in her manner, the +reason of which he presently learned as they drove along. + +“There is a renewal of festivities which are such an abiding joy to my +uncle’s soul,” she said, speaking in a hard voice. “To-night we’ve a +dinner-party of a dozen people, all neighbours; nobody is staying in +the house but you.” + +So the rubicund Stormont had resumed his extravagant habits the moment +he found himself in possession of a bit of money. He had no doubt paid +off some pressing old debts, and was feverishly incurring new ones. +The young man had no desire to face a lot of strangers, but perhaps +this dinner-party was, in a way, a healthy sign. Even Stormont would +not have been so rash as to fritter away his last shilling if he were +not sure that salvation was close at hand. Lydon was relieved to think +that this five thousand pounds was not a myth, but a solid fact. + +Gloria went on in low and embarrassed tones: “I cannot say how ashamed +and humiliated I am that he should have come to you. I only heard it +this morning from my aunt, who thought I ought to be told. When he +mentioned to her that he was going to apply to you, she did all in her +power to dissuade him from making such a request, but all to no +purpose. The fact of it is, he is not a man who feels any shame in +borrowing.” + +He could see plainly that she was very much distressed, and he +hastened to console her. “My darling, there is really nothing for you +to worry about. I am sorry your uncle was put about, but he made it +clear to me it was quite a temporary embarrassment, and I was very +pleased to be of service to him. Such a thing might happen to +anybody--might have happened to myself.” + +The girl spoke with some heat. “It is very sweet of you to try and +restore my self-respect, but it would never have happened to you. You +are the last man in the world to spend your money on riotous living +and then go with a pitiful tale to a friend. Why did he not go to one +of his business friends, if he was forced to borrow, or, better still, +sell some of the valuable things he has got at Effington?” + +She was evidently stung to the quick that her happy-go-lucky uncle had +exploited the young man’s affection for herself in order to replenish +his exhausted exchequer. Lydon himself could not help thinking it was +a mean thing to do, in spite of his making light of it to her. + +The dinner-party was a great success. Stormont beamed on his guests as +genially as ever, and was in the highest spirits. As he sat at the +table he gave the impression of a man who had not a care in the world. +Lydon could hardly understand such a swift alteration of mood, of the +change from the haggard, harassed man of a few days ago to this jovial +creature who laughed and joked with the greatest ease. But then he did +not comprehend the mercurial temperament of the incurable spendthrift. + +The Saturday was to be a comparatively quiet day, Gloria told him, +there being only two guests expected. The taciturn Mr. Whitehouse was +bringing down his niece, Zillah Mayhew, to lunch. But their visit +would not be a very long one. They were returning to London by an +afternoon train. + +The words that he had overheard that night when he had passed the door +of Stormont’s study recurred to him at the mention of Miss Mayhew’s +name. Was this the woman whose co-operation was essential to some +business there was on hand? “What sort of a girl is she?” asked the +young man. “Not as gloomy as her uncle, I trust?” + +Gloria smiled. “She is the exact opposite, most bright and vivacious, +really quite charming. I haven’t seen her more than half a dozen times +in my life, but I took a great fancy to her.” + +“Does she live with the solemn Whitehouse?” + +“Not permanently. Uncle has never told me much about her history, but +I know that her parents are dead, that she has a little income of her +own, and lives now with one relative, now with another. She passes a +great deal of her time abroad, where she has several friends and +connections.” + +Lydon began to feel rather interested in the young woman. When the +time came for them to be met at the station, he noticed a rather +peculiar thing. Stormont dispensed with the services of the chauffeur +and drove the car to Guildford himself, a most unusual proceeding on +his part. The young man was convinced by this circumstance that his +suspicions were correct. Stormont wanted to be alone to have a quiet +chat with Whitehouse and his niece. + +The lovers went for a walk, and on their return a few minutes before +luncheon the visitors had arrived. Lydon shook hands with Whitehouse, +and was introduced to Miss Mayhew, a tall, dark, handsome girl, with +splendid eyes, and the complexion of the brunette. She spoke English +without the faintest trace of accent, but there was a foreign air +about her. + +He looked at her very attentively, and his scrutiny revealed two very +strange things. On the back of her neck was a blemish partially +concealed by powder, and she wore as a pendant a magnificent sapphire +carved in the shape of a closed lotus flower. + +His memory flew back to that day when he had stood in the drawing-room +of the Villa des Cyclamens, and called the attention of Madame Makris +to a similar jewel which was lying unheeded on the table. + + + + + CHAPTER SEVEN + +Like a man in a dream, he heard the pleasant, contralto voice of +Miss Mayhew asking him if he did not think Mr. Stormont looked +wonderfully well, and then, without awaiting his answer, go on to +remark that country life evidently agreed with him. + +Having broken the ice with Lydon in the easy manner that showed she +was endowed with plenty of self-confidence, she turned to the rubicund +gentleman himself, whom she addressed familiarly as Uncle Howard. “I’m +afraid since you took possession of this lovely place, you don’t work +half as hard as you used to do.” + +Whatever her relations with the other two members of the family, she +was apparently on very close terms with the head of it, as was +apparent from the way she addressed him. Gloria had said that they had +seen very little of each other, Stormont then must have had additional +opportunities of intimacy. Unless she knew him very well, she would +not have called him uncle in the presence of his real niece. + +He wondered whether Gloria quite relished the familiarity. In spite of +her obvious recognition of Stormont’s failings, and her resentment of +what had just taken place between himself and her fiancé, he was sure +that she had a very soft spot in her heart for her uncle, whom she +always declared to be one of the kindest and most generous of men. + +But Gloria did not seem piqued in any way, and she had told him that +Miss Mayhew was not only very bright and vivacious, but especially +charming also. One of his sweetheart’s best traits was that she was +not a jealous or an envious girl. + +Whitehouse was always taciturn; he ate heartily and drank a fair +amount, but neither of these processes ever seemed to exhilarate him. +Mrs. Barnard was naturally a quiet woman, of a disposition rather +reserved than otherwise. The conversation at lunch was carried on +mainly between the host and the dark, handsome girl. Miss Mayhew +appeared to have travelled a great deal abroad, for she was constantly +making references to places where apparently she and “Uncle Howard” +had been in each other’s company. It was no doubt owing to these +meetings that they seemed so intimate with each other. + +The visitors did not stay very long after lunch, although Stormont, in +his hospitable way, pressed them to reconsider their decision, and +postpone their departure till at least the following day. But +Whitehouse shook his head and replied briefly it was impossible, as he +and his niece had an engagement on Sunday. + +Stormont drove them alone from the house, as he had driven them alone +to it. There must be some reason, for Lydon knew he was not fond of +acting as chauffeur. Probably he wanted a few last words with the girl +who was necessary to the prosecution of some business scheme hatched +between the two men. + +After they had left, Mrs. Barnard retired to her usual task of writing +letters, and the engaged couple went into the billiard-room. + +“Well, what do you think of the handsome Zillah?” asked Gloria as they +chose their cues. “Uncle says she breaks hearts wherever she goes. Did +you find her very fascinating?” + +Lydon had certainly been greatly fascinated by her, but not for the +reasons Gloria had in her mind when she put the question. What had +fascinated him was that brilliant sapphire pendant and the blemish on +her neck, only partially concealed by the liberal use of powder. + +He answered her question lightly: “I expect most men would find her +more than ordinarily attractive. But you know, darling, I have never +had any great admiration for dark women.” + +Gloria no doubt was quite satisfied with the answer, for she did not +pursue the subject. She had been rather eclipsed at lunch by the +vivacious and brilliant Miss Mayhew, but now she was alone with her +lover she chatted away merrily enough as they played their game. + +And, as she talked, Lydon found himself speculating on the recent +visitor and the strange position of affairs at Effington. There was +plenty of unreality about the whole thing. Was there also perhaps more +than a mere suspicion of mystery? Why did Stormont maintain that +persistent reticence about his business, a man usually of a most +garrulous disposition? Even now Lydon did not know precisely where his +offices were situated. On the bill of exchange it was necessary for +him to put an address, but he had simply described himself as of +Effington Hall, Surrey. + +Whitehouse, seemingly his most intimate friend, seemed more than a +little mysterious too. He always gave Leonard the impression of a man +who was constantly keeping close watch upon himself lest he should +drop something that he did not wish known. + +And who was this independent, self-assured young woman, Zillah Mayhew, +with the blemish on her neck and that striking pendant, who seemed to +spend her life in rushing hither and thither, and was on such intimate +terms with Uncle Howard? + +He led the conversation presently round to the same subject, for all +the time he was making his strokes the dark, handsome Zillah, with her +foreign look, was in his thoughts. + +“What a lovely sapphire that is she wears! You noticed it, of course?” + +“One could not very well avoid noticing it,” was the reply. “As I have +told you, I haven’t seen her many times, but on every occasion she has +had it on. Uncle says it is her mascot.” + +“And did you also notice that peculiar blemish on her neck which, +cleverly as she tries to hide it, peeps through the powder?” + +“Yes, I did,” answered Gloria, “for the first time to-day. I am +certain it was not there the last time I saw her.” + +“And how long ago might that be?” was her lover’s next question. + +The girl considered. “Let me see. I am not very good at remembering +dates. But I do recollect this much. She came over here a few weeks +before we went on that visit to Nice where we met you and your friend, +Mr. Craig.” + +Lydon was thinking rapidly: “You didn’t happen to meet her at Nice?” + +Gloria looked at him in surprise at the question. “No, I am sure I did +not. What makes you suggest it?” + +The young man laughed a little awkwardly. It was too early to tell his +sweetheart the strange suspicions which had formed in his mind. “Oh, +no particular reason. But from what she said at luncheon, she seems to +be always on the travel. It just struck me she might have been there +at that particular time.” + +He left on the Monday morning this time, having on a great pressure of +work. He would not be able to ask Gloria to lunch in town during the +week, as he was so uncertain of his engagements, but he would be sure +to be down on the following Friday. + +He went back to his business, very much obsessed with his thoughts of +the dark, handsome girl known as Zillah Mayhew. Was it only a queer +fancy of his that had led him to connect her with the woman who had +been the cause of his friend’s death? + +When he got back to his rooms in Ryder Street, he hunted up the +portrait in the illustrated paper which he had brought with him from +Nice. It was a blurred and wretched thing. One moment he fancied he +could detect a resemblance between Elise Makris and Zillah Mayhew, the +next he was bound to confess he could see not the slightest +resemblance. + +It happened that he did see his sweetheart during the week. On the +Wednesday morning he had to carry out some tests of wireless telephony +at one of his Company’s experimental stations at Esher. He was testing +a newly-invented thermionic valve, and during the morning he got into +communication with Aberdeen and Rotterdam and was gratified to learn +they reported his speech and gramophone music as strong and clear. + +He lunched at the _Bear Hotel_, and a happy thought struck him. He +would pay a surprise visit to Effington. So he drove away down the +Portsmouth Road, passing through Guildford and over the Hog’s Back, +and early in the afternoon swung into the big lodge gates of +Effington. + +His unexpected visit was a most delightful surprise to Gloria. He +would remain to tea, of course; and Mrs. Barnard, who was as +hospitable as her brother, insisted upon his stopping to dinner. She +regretted that Stormont would be absent, as he had motored to London +to a directors’ meeting, and would not be back till late. + +Mrs. Barnard served them tea from the old silver pot in the great +oak-panelled hall where high stained-glass windows bore the +_rose-en-soleil_ badge of the dead and gone Sedgemeres. + +Duncan, the white-haired, grave-faced butler who never permitted +himself the luxury of a smile, except when some guest bestowed upon +him a more than usually generous tip, officiated with his customary +dignity, handing round the cake-basket of pierced Georgian silver. +Duncan had served the greater part of his life in noble families. +Stormont, on the look-out for a dignified major-domo, had tempted him +from his last place by the offer of a salary about double what he was +getting. + +Duncan, in a way, had fallen from his high estate in accepting service +under a man about whom nobody seemed to know very much. But, like the +mercenaries of old, he was content to enlist under any banner where +the pay was good. + +In the waning light, the big, high-pitched hall looked ghostly and +cavernous, with its floor of polished oak over which high-born dames +of the days of Charles the Second had danced merrily. There was the +great stone fireplace with the wrought-iron fire-back, bearing upon it +the date of 1621. There were the Caroline day-bed with spindle legs +and fragile canework, the high carved arm-chairs upholstered in faded +crimson, and the big oak gate table, loaded with game books, and +visitors’ books mixed with modern novels. + +Around, upon the dark panelled walls, hung several portraits of women +and men in wigs, one being a portrait by Kneller of Hugh, sixth Earl +of Sedgemere, and another by Reynolds of Anne, wife of the great Lord +Sedgemere who had fought in the Peninsular War. + +While they gossiped and sipped their tea, the sun slanted across the +oak flooring, tinted by the antique escutcheons in the long coloured +glass windows of the lofty hall. + +At dinner Lydon casually referred to Miss Mayhew. Had they heard +anything of her since he had met her at luncheon? + +Mrs. Barnard answered the question: “No, nothing. Isn’t she a splendid +girl? I wish we saw more of her. She is so amusing and vivacious. No +wonder men are always attracted by her!” + +“Does she live in London?” Lydon asked. + +“When she is in England, she stays with her uncle, Mr. Whitehouse. But +I believe she is a great deal with her brother in Paris.” + +So this cosmopolitan young lady had a brother in Paris. Lydon would +very much have liked to ask something about the brother, and also in +what part of London Whitehouse resided, but his delicacy kept him +back. Somehow, personal details never seemed forthcoming in the +Stormont family, with perhaps the exception of Gloria, who was +frankness itself. You always had to dig for them. + +After dinner they went as usual into the billiard-room. Mrs. Barnard, +contrary to her usual habit, accompanied them and took upon herself +the office of marker. + +After the game was over she very considerately left them to themselves +for a few moments. No doubt, she had a recollection of her own +courting days. A little while before the young man was preparing to +take his leave, she came in with a bundle of letters in her hand. + +“Leonard, I found these on my brother’s table just now. He had +intended to take them along with him, and forgot them in the hurry of +leaving. Will you please post them at Guildford or somewhere as you +drive along?” + +Lydon promised that he would. He said good-bye to the amiable Mrs. +Barnard. Gloria accompanied him to his car, and here the farewell was +a somewhat protracted one, as is usual with newly-engaged couples. + +He drove away over the Hog’s Back, and stopped before the Guildford +Post Office. For the first time he looked at the letters as he dropped +them into the box. He came to the last, and read the superscription in +Stormont’s bold handwriting. It was addressed to Miss Mayhew, 18 +Ashstead Mansions, Sloane Square. + +A little time ago he had been longing to ask at dinner where Mr. +Whitehouse lived, and had refrained from feelings of delicacy. By the +merest accident, the forgetfulness of Stormont, he had found out what +he wanted. This was a piece of luck. + +His first natural impulse was to scribble the address upon his +shirt-cuff and send the letter into the box with the others. He never +quite knew why he changed his mind. Probably his strong conviction +that there was a great element of mystery about Stormont himself, and, +secondly, his equally strong obsession that Elise Makris and Zillah +Mayhew were one and the same person. + +Second thoughts gained the day. Instead of posting the letter, as he +knew he ought to have done, he put it back in his wallet, jumped back +into the car, and drove along the London Road through Ripley, Cobham, +Esher and Kingston to the garage close to Ryder Street. + +He was determined to pluck at the heart of the mystery. Two hours +after it had been given to him by Mrs. Barnard, he stood in his rooms +in Ryder Street, and the letter from Howard Stormont to Zillah Mayhew +was lying open in his hand. This is what he read: + + + “My very clever Zillah.--I have seen Edwards and arranged everything. + You will leave for Paris to-morrow and wait at the _Hôtel Terminus_ + for further instructions. Edwards will bring or write them. Show this + to Whitehouse and then destroy.--Uncle.” + + +He read it through a dozen times, and then he carefully resealed the +flap, for the gum was still wet from the steam he had applied. When it +had dried under the weight of some heavy body, he went out and posted +it in the nearest pillar-box. In all probability, Miss Mayhew would +not glance at the postmark. + +What did it all mean? Zillah Mayhew was intimately connected with +Stormont’s business, whatever it might be. Of what nature was this +peculiar business that required a female partner? + +On the face of it, that brief epistle might refer to a perfectly +legitimate transaction. A woman’s subtle influence might be necessary +to secure some special concession, some particular contract. + +But the more he thought it over, the more he rejected this +explanation. The predominant thought in his mind about Howard +Stormont, the country gentleman who played his rôle with such +absolute enjoyment of it, was that he was a very different person from +what he appeared to his neighbours at Effington. + +And this suspicion would become a certainty if he could prove that +Elise Makris, the decoy of swindlers and blackmailers, was none other +than Zillah Mayhew, the niece, or pretended niece, of the taciturn +Whitehouse. + +But would it become a certainty without further corroborative +evidence? Going into the question a little more deeply, he was bound +to admit it would not. After all, he had nothing but undefined +suspicions with regard to Stormont. He would be bound to give him the +benefit of the doubt. + +If the girl were found to be Elise Makris, it did not follow that +Stormont was aware of her criminal activities. It was not an absolute +certainty that even Whitehouse, if he were her uncle, knew of them. +She was obviously a very clever, resourceful young woman; she would +not go about proclaiming her nefarious profession from the housetops. + +Stormont might have originally made her acquaintance in a quite simple +and ordinary way, and found her talents useful to him in a peculiar +line of business that entailed the exercise of a considerable amount +of diplomacy. + +In fair-mindedness he felt bound to reason on these lines. But, all +the same, his instincts loudly confuted his reasoning. And those +instincts told him that the rubicund financier was very different from +what he appeared to be. + + + + + CHAPTER EIGHT + +Lydon might not be able to lay claim to any remarkable brilliance of +intellect. At Harrow and Oxford his progress had been steady and +respectable, but he had not distinguished himself like his friend +Craig, for instance, to whom the acquisition of knowledge was an easy +task, whose mental alertness was the delight of his masters and +tutors. + +But he was a shrewd young fellow, and endowed with a considerable fund +of common-sense. He also possessed a dogged spirit of determination. +When he once took a thing up he persevered with it, and was not easily +daunted by obstacles. There were, at the present moment, two things he +was resolved to find out by some means or other--the precise nature of +Stormont’s business and the life history of the dark, handsome girl +known as Zillah Mayhew. + +He thought the best thing he would do as a start was to go and consult +Shelford, the solicitor in Lincoln’s Inn. As he was pretty well master +of his own time, he paid him an early morning visit before he went to +his business in Victoria Street. That genial gentleman was disengaged +and saw him at once. + +To him the young man related his accidental meeting with Miss Mayhew +at the house of a mutual friend, and the two remarkable facts that she +had a blemish on the neck, and was wearing a rather original piece of +jewellery, similar in design to one he had seen in the drawing-room of +the Villa des Cyclamens when he had called there to condole with +Madame Makris on the tragedy. + +Mr. Shelford was very much impressed, as Lydon was sure he would be: +“One or other of the facts, taken singly, would not lead one very +far,” he observed. “There are no doubt heaps of girls who may have a +mark of this kind, and I suppose there is no piece of jewellery which +is absolutely unique, which has not several replicas. But taken in +conjunction, the evidence is very remarkable. Well, I suppose you want +to go further into it. What you have learned about this young lady in +the ordinary course does not satisfy you?” + +Lydon answered that it certainly did not, that he wanted to have his +suspicions disproved or confirmed. What did Shelford advise? + +The solicitor was quite ready with an answer. “If you or I were to +undertake the task of tracing the history of Miss Mayhew, I expect we +should find out next to nothing. Such a business is not the least in +our line. But there is, fortunately, a class of men who are experts in +this kind of thing, and perform wonders if you give them something to +go on. You have heard of course of private inquiry agents, perhaps may +have employed one in your time?” + +“I have heard of them, naturally. Some of them advertise their skill +in tracking faithless wives and erring husbands. But I have never had +occasion to avail myself of their services.” + +“Then, if you want to get at the bottom of this, you had better go to +one at once, while the scent is hot,” advised Mr. Shelford, speaking +in a brisk tone. “Like every other profession, there are all sorts in +it, some very smart, some the reverse. I can recommend you to a +particularly good man, as keen as mustard. Whenever we have any of +this sort of work, we give it to him, and he has always served us +well. His name is Grewgus, and his office is in Craven Street, Strand. +I will give you a note of introduction to him, and as he is a busy +man, you had better ring him up for an appointment. Stay, as it is +pretty early, he’ll be at his office. I’ll ring him up now and make an +appointment for you.” + +In a few minutes the affair was settled. Mr. Grewgus would be engaged +practically the whole of the day, but he could see Mr. Lydon at six +o’clock that evening, if convenient. If not, at ten o’clock the +following morning. As the young man was anxious to get on with the +matter as quickly as possible, he chose the evening. + +“By the way, I have a little bit of news for you,” said Shelford as +they shook hands at parting. “Poor Hugh Craig’s private fortune is +sadly depleted. As far as we are able to make out, he has either +parted voluntarily or been forced to part with something like twelve +thousand pounds in the last eighteen months. You remember, of course, +there were some vague allusions to blackmail in that letter he sent to +you from Nice, under cover to us?” + +“Yes, there was certainly reference to blackmail. But how could he +have laid himself open to it? I knew Hugh the best part of my life--he +was the soul of honour and probity. He could never have done anything +that he would have been ashamed to come to light.” + +The experienced man of the world shook his head. “The lives of a great +many of us are a sealed book, Mr. Lydon. The poor fellow was no doubt +distraught when he wrote that letter, and may have used the word +without strict regard to its meaning. This harpy may have inveigled it +out of him on some plausible pretext or another. All the cheques were +drawn to himself, and paid in cash, so we have no means of knowing to +whom the money actually went. But, as you can see, he was bled to a +pretty good amount.” + +Later on, about twelve o’clock, Lydon was rung up in his business room +where he was hard at work. Stormont’s well-known voice came through +the instrument. He was speaking from the _Cecil_, he said. Would +Leonard lunch with him at one? + +He wanted to settle up that little matter with him. + +But for the concluding words, the young man might have declined the +invitation, making some polite excuse. At the present moment he was +too much disturbed in his mind about Mr. Stormont to hold any +unnecessary intercourse with him. Repayment of the thousand pounds +loan was evidently meant. The expected remittance was not a myth, as +he had fancied more than once, but had actually arrived. + +He, therefore, accepted. He did not consider Stormont was a safe +enough man to have money left in his possession for too long. If he +waited, he might only get a part of the debt, some more pressing +creditor might be beforehand with him. + +Besides, after all, he need not be so squeamish about meeting him. He +had no intention of breaking with Gloria just because he had some +strong suspicions of her uncle. He would be going to Effington on +Friday for his usual weekly visit, and must perforce be the rubicund +financier’s guest as before. + +Stormont seemed more hearty and genial than ever when they met in the +entrance hall. As on the previous occasion, he ordered a most lavish +lunch and the most expensive wine. Before going into the restaurant, +he slipped into his guest’s hand a rather bulky envelope. “I have +brought it in cash,” he whispered, “ten one hundred notes. I should +have liked to add something substantial for the accommodation, but you +were so emphatic on that point that I didn’t dare.” + +Well, Stormont, so far, had kept faith with him; that should certainly +be accounted to him for righteousness. But Lydon could not help +thinking how strangely the financier managed his affairs for a man of +business. Why did he not give him a cheque instead of these bulky +notes which he might not have time to pay in to-day? He hated carrying +big money about with him. + +Then his suspicions, which had become chronic since he had read that +letter, leading him to put an unfavourable construction upon every +action, recurred to him. Perhaps he owed his bank, not a trifling sum +as he had pretended, but a very considerable amount, and had only +partially settled with them. Hence his reason for not drawing a +cheque. + +Lydon was not in a very talkative mood; he was thinking of his +forthcoming interview with the private inquiry agent. The host, +however, was in the best possible spirits and conversed enough for the +pair. + +Towards the close of the meal, the young man roused himself from his +reveries, and inquired casually whether he was likely to meet Miss +Mayhew on his next visit to Effington. + +Stormont answered in the negative, adding: “I understood she was going +away almost directly on a visit to her brother in Paris.” + +After a pause he added: “Splendid girl that, so clever, so +accomplished. She’s a first-class linguist too. Gloria often says she +wishes she could speak foreign languages like her. A capital woman of +business too. She has been of some use to me and her uncle in that way +on more than one occasion.” + +“She has helped you in your business,” cried Lydon, rather surprised +at such a frank admission from a man so reserved on the subject. + +Mr. Stormont winked knowingly. In addition to the greater portion of +the champagne, he had imbibed two glasses of very fine liqueur brandy. +They had perhaps made him unusually communicative. + +“In my line of business we often have to deal with persons in high +places, some of whom are very susceptible, not to say inflammable. +When you come across a person of this description--and there are +plenty of them abroad--it is astonishing what influence a pretty and +clever woman can wield. And her worst enemy must admit that Zillah is +both.” + +It seemed quite a straightforward sort of statement. Lydon, in spite +of his suspicions, was bound to admit as much. He tried to lead the +financier to talk further on the topic, but obviously he did not wish +to pursue it. Perhaps he felt he had said enough. + +At half-past two they separated. There was just time enough to walk +briskly to Coutts, and pay in the thousand pounds. Leonard was busy at +the office till it was time for him to keep his appointment in Craven +Street with Mr. Grewgus. + +He reached the offices of the private inquiry agent a few minutes past +the hour. Mr. Grewgus himself was standing in the outer room +apparently used by his staff. But there was nobody there except +himself, a fact which he explained to his new client. + +“I am alone, Mr. Lydon; I never keep my staff after the stroke of six. +Of course I don’t restrict myself to the time-table. I am at the +disposal of a client at almost any hour.” + +Lydon rather liked the look of him. He was a tall, thin-faced man with +rather hatchet features, clean-shaven. His manners were suave and +courteous, his eyes keen, his expression was indicative of alert +mentality. + +He led the way into his own apartment, and, after placing a chair for +the young man, invited him to state his business. Leonard told him the +story as the reader already knows it. Grewgus listened without making +any comment or interruption, but it was easy to see his trained +intelligence grasped every detail. When Lydon was finished, he spoke: + +“I understand that you wish me to find out all I can about this man, +Howard Stormont, the nature of his business, etcetera, etcetera. +Secondly, you want me to do the same thing with regard to the young +woman, Zillah Mayhew, and this will necessarily involve her uncle, +John Whitehouse, whom you say lives at 18 Ashstead Mansions, Sloane +Square.” + +Leonard intimated that the detective had accurately comprehended his +requirements. + +“You do not know the address of Stormont’s offices, only that they are +somewhere in London. You have looked him up in the directory, as a +matter of course? You have, and can’t locate him. Trading no doubt +under another name. Nothing actually suspicious in that by itself, of +course, but it is a little peculiar he should be so exceedingly +reticent on the subject.” + +He paused a minute or two to digest things before resuming: “Well, Mr. +Lydon, I can leave Stormont to one of my lieutenants; I have no doubt +he can soon be run to earth. The young lady will, I am sure, prove the +more difficult job of the two. You say she is starting or has started +for Paris?” + +“The letter was written yesterday; I posted it last night. Therefore, +if she obeys the instructions, she will leave to-day.” + +“Quite so,” assented Mr. Grewgus. “I will, as I said, leave Stormont +and the man Whitehouse to a deputy; we shall learn something about +them in a very short time. I shall take Miss Mayhew in hand myself, +and I ought to follow her to-morrow at the latest. But there is a +little difficulty. I don’t know her by sight, although I dare say you +can give me a pretty accurate description of her. Still, if she +registers at the _Hôtel Terminus_ under another name, which is quite +likely, time may be lost. Would it be possible for you to accompany +me?” + +“But wouldn’t our objects be defeated if I did? Remember, we have met +at Effington Hall, and if she is the woman I believe her to be, she +would be naturally interested in me as the friend of Hugh Craig. She +would recognize me the moment she saw me.” + +Mr. Grewgus smiled genially. “Quite right, Mr. Lydon, but I shouldn’t +manage things as clumsily as that. If you will come round to the +office an hour before we start, I will disguise you so effectually +that your nearest and dearest will never suspect your real identity. +You will enter it Leonard Lydon, you will leave it anything you decide +upon. We are used to make-up here, I can assure you.” + +There was something that appealed to him in the suggestion; it would +be a decidedly novel experience to spy upon Miss Mayhew under an +impenetrable disguise. He could easily spare a few days; there was +some business in Paris he could attend to at the same time. + +The weekly visit to Gloria was the only drawback. But for the moment +the prospect of tracking Miss Mayhew outweighed the disappointment of +not seeing his sweetheart. He would write her to-night, explaining +that he had suddenly been summoned to Glasgow on important business +which could not be delayed. + +It was arranged, therefore, that Lydon should be round at the office +early the next morning, and after he had assumed his disguise, the two +men should proceed at once to Paris. + +But Mr. Grewgus, who certainly did not spare himself in the interests +of his clients, had something more to propose. A bright idea had +suddenly occurred to him. He asked his client if he had any important +engagements for that evening, and on receiving an answer in the +negative, unfolded his plan. + +“Well, as you can spare the time, I suggest that we take a peep at +Ashstead Mansions and see if we can get anything useful out of the +porter at the flats. Most of these fellows will talk if they can see +money is about.” + +“But, the same objection,” began the young man, and Mr. Grewgus +interrupted him with uplifted hand and a quizzical smile. + +“Of course, I foresee that. You might meet the Mayhew girl or +Whitehouse, or both coming down the staircase, and they would at once +smell a rat. What about having a rehearsal of that excellent disguise +which you are going to assume to-morrow? I can rig you out comfortably +in a quarter of an hour.” + +Lydon agreed. There was an element of sport in the whole thing which +the hatchet-faced detective seemed to enjoy as much as his client. +Disguised in a heavy beard and moustache, the young man walked out of +the detective’s office. They took a taxi and dismounted within a few +yards of Ashstead Mansions. + +The porter, a young military-looking man, was standing outside the +particular block they entered. Grewgus whispered in his companion’s +ear. “I’ve reckoned him up in a single glance. I know the type. He +will talk till doomsday after the first ten-shilling note is slipped +in his hand. Of course, you won’t mind a bit of expense over the job?” + +Lydon whispered back that, under the circumstances, expense was no +object. He was prepared to spend a considerable amount of money to +confirm or disprove his suspicions of Zillah Mayhew. + +They went into the hall, and scrutinized the board containing the +names of the particular block in which Number 18 was situated. The +name of Whitehouse did not figure on it. + +The detective rubbed his thin face. “This is 18 Ashstead Mansions, +right enough, but nobody of the name of Whitehouse resides here. You +are quite sure of the number?” + +The young man smiled. Detectives perhaps resembled solicitors; they +did not credit the average person with ordinary intelligence. + +“Impossible for me to make a mistake,” he answered. “I was far too +interested not to make sure. I only learned it last night.” + +Seeing they were obviously perplexed, the porter strolled up to them. +“Are you looking for somebody, sir?” he asked, addressing Grewgus, +whom he evidently regarded as the more dominant personality of the +two. “Perhaps I can assist you.” + +Grewgus spoke in his rather precise, formal way. “Am I correct in +saying that a Mr. Whitehouse occupies one of these flats?” + +The military-looking man shook his head. “Nobody of that name in this +block, sir, or any of the others.” + +Grewgus turned to his companion with a finely simulated air of +surprise. “Either we have been misinformed as to the precise locality +or the name itself,” he said. + +Lydon, not used to the subtle processes of the detective mind, thought +it best to say as little as possible. He just muttered the safe words, +“It certainly looks like it, doesn’t it?” playing up to the lead given +him by the astute Grewgus. + +That gentleman extracted with a great air of deliberation a +ten-shilling note from his waistcoat pocket and pressed it into the +receptive hand of the porter. + +“I may as well tell you we are here to make a few inquiries about a +certain party,” he said. “You say there is no Mr. Whitehouse here. +Does a young lady named Mayhew reside in this or any of the other +blocks?” + +The porter, stimulated by the _douceur_ so promptly and adroitly +administered, became voluble at once, thus justifying the detective’s +hasty diagnosis of his temperament. + +“Miss Mayhew, sir, lives with her uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. +Glenthorne, in this block, Number 18. I believe she is their niece; I +have heard her call him uncle.” + +Grewgus turned to the disguised young man and addressed him with the +utmost coolness and suavity. “Of course, we were given the wrong name. +I suspected it after I searched that board.” + +He turned to the porter, who, by the knowing smile that showed itself +upon his good-looking face, appeared to be awaiting developments of an +interesting character. + +“Now can you tell us something about this Mr. Glenthorne? Do you know +his profession, his business, his occupation?” + +The smile on the porter’s face deepened, as he saw Grewgus’ hand steal +ostentatiously to his pocket, and withdraw another note. It had +evidently dawned on his mind by now that they were detectives, and +were prepared to pay liberally for information. + +“I could tell you about almost anybody in this block, sir, but not Mr. +Glenthorne. When he is in London, he seems to go out every day, and +returns at all sorts of hours, sometimes to lunch, sometimes to +dinner, sometimes not till close upon midnight.” + +“A gentleman apparently of quite irregular habits?” interjected the +detective. + +“Quite so, sir. Whatever his business is, it takes him away a good +deal. He spends more than half the year abroad.” + +“And what about Miss Mayhew? Is she as erratic?” + +“Never stays here very long, sir. She was off to-day. From something I +heard, I think she was bound for Paris.” + +A second note found its way into the porter’s ready palm, and Grewgus +was prepared to admit that he had earned it. + +The two men were turning away, when the porter said in a low voice: +“Here is Mr. Glenthorne, sir. Do you know him?” + +Grewgus motioned him to silence. A well-remembered figure entered the +hall and ascended the staircase. He cast a sharp glance at the two +men, but it was evident he did not penetrate Lydon’s disguise. + +When he was safely out of earshot, Leonard whispered to his companion: +“It is the man whom I know as John Whitehouse.” + +They went out into the street, and then the detective spoke. +“Glenthorne in Ashstead Mansions, and Whitehouse when he visits his +friends at Effington. The beginning of a very pretty mystery, Mr. +Lydon. Perhaps our trip to Paris will help us to solve it.” + + + + + CHAPTER NINE + +When they had left Ashstead Mansions safely behind, the detective +turned down a side street, and, leading the young man under a +convenient archway, dexterously whipped off the disguising beard and +moustache and put them in a small bag he had brought with him. + +“Now Richard is himself again, and can face the world in his own +proper person,” he observed in a jocular tone. “I suppose we will +separate here. I am going on to Hammersmith to see one of my smartest +men and put him at once on the job of finding out what he can about +Stormont and the man whom you originally knew as Whitehouse. Better be +at my office about eight o’clock to-morrow. As soon as I have made you +up, we will start.” + +As they parted, Grewgus observed that he had better pay out all the +outgoings, and Lydon could give him a cheque from time to time. “I +expect it will run you into a pretty penny,” he said, “but from what +you have said, I gather you don’t mind that. The thing certainly seems +worth investigating. The fact of this fellow having two names is very +suspicious. And whatever is going on, I have little doubt we shall be +able to connect Stormont with it. It is impossible he can be ignorant +of the fact that Whitehouse calls himself Glenthorne when he is away +from Effington.” + +Lydon went back to his rooms, and in the evening dined at the +_Berkeley_ with a friend. The more he thought over the matter the more +he congratulated himself on having gone to the solicitor, and through +him to Grewgus, who impressed him as a man of remarkable capacity. +What they had learned at Ashstead Mansions was enough to prove that +there was some deep mystery about the occupants of Number 18, a +mystery in which the owner of Effington Hall was obviously involved. + +Whatever that mystery was, did Gloria and Mrs. Barnard know anything +about it, or were they as ignorant as he was when he had first set +foot in the fine old Tudor mansion where the rubicund profiteer posed +as a man of business who had lately taken up the rôle of country +gentleman? + +Of Mrs. Barnard, he could not, of course, be sure. She was a +singularly quiet, self-contained woman, not much given to general +conversation. Considering the hours he had spent down at Effington, he +had really seen very little of her. She seemed to play a very +subordinate part in the life led there, her brother taking the lead in +everything, impressing himself upon his guests, in his bluff, genial +way, while she remained in the background. + +She seemed, so far as he could judge, to be interested in two +things--clothes and the local charities. And no doubt Stormont had put +her on to the latter, in order to make a good impression in the +neighbourhood, and disarm the critical attitude which is so often +assumed against a new-comer. + +Gloria he was convinced knew nothing and suspected nothing. He loved +the girl with his whole heart and soul, with every pulse of his being, +but even his great love would not have blinded him if he had observed +anything suspicious or evasive about her. In all their intercourse +together, she had been so perfectly frank, even with regard to the +uncle whose kindness she so greatly appreciated. When she told him +that Stormont was a financier, it was evident she was telling what she +believed to be the truth. And about her early life with her parents in +China she had been as open as a book. Whatever mystery there might be +about Stormont himself, there was none about the brother who held a +high position in one of the biggest banks in that far-off country. + +She had shown him more than one letter from her parents, who kept up a +constant correspondence with her, and he could see from what he read +there was nothing suspicious about them. In the last one he read, +there was an intimation that at any moment they might make up their +minds to come to England for a brief holiday. Yes, there was no doubt +everything was open and above-board with Jasper Stormont, her father. + +The young man found himself wishing that visit would be paid soon. He +could question a man more closely than he could a woman. + +He was at Grewgus’ office at the appointed hour next morning. As +before, there was nobody there but the detective himself. The staff +did not put in an appearance till nine. In a very few minutes the +disguise was effected, with a few additional touches which made it +more complete. + +When he had finished, Grewgus drew back and surveyed his handiwork +with an air of pardonable pride. “If Miss Mayhew meets you face to +face, she will never suspect you are the young man she met at +Effington Hall. There was no recognition in Whitehouse’s glance last +night, although I have no doubt he was suspicious of what we were +doing there. I bet you he will have asked the porter a question or two +by now. But that chap is no fool; he will know how to put him off.” + +When Leonard looked in the glass which Grewgus handed him, he was +bound to confess that a complete metamorphosis had been effected. +There was no resemblance between this heavy-bearded creature and the +good-looking lover of Gloria Stormont. + +“Now I think we will be off,” observed Grewgus. “I have written a +letter to my head clerk telling him I’m off to Paris, and giving him +the address of the hotel we shall stay at. Of course it will not be +the _Terminus_, that would hamper us too much. I shall only take you +there for the purpose of identifying her; I shall watch her from +elsewhere. To stay there would be fatal to our plans. If she is the +person you believe her to be, she is naturally as sharp as a needle, +and she would soon tumble to the fact that we were taking a suspicious +interest in her.” + +A short time later they had left London behind them and were on their +way to Paris and Zillah Mayhew. It was a fairly empty train and they +had a first-class compartment to themselves. + +Grewgus proved himself a most entertaining companion, and told Lydon +many interesting things in connection with himself and his profession, +in the pursuit of which he took the keenest delight. + +He was about fifty-five, he told the young man, who was surprised at +the statement, for, with his clean-shaven face and keen, alert +expression, he looked a good ten years younger. He had been fifteen +years at Scotland Yard, and ten years on his own. + +While at the Yard he had acquired a considerable experience of the +underworld. He told him some wonderful stories of the wide +ramifications of crookdom of all classes from the lowest to the most +aristocratic, of high-class gangs directed by men who presented a most +respectable appearance to the outside world, mixing in decent society, +and adopting some well-known business or profession as a blind. He +regaled him with some thrilling tales of how diamond had cut diamond, +of the marvellous ingenuity with which certain professional detectives +had got the better of their natural enemies, the criminals. + +Since he had been in private practice, his experiences had been less +thrilling. He did a good deal in divorce business, and he was applied +to in many cases of blackmail. + +“If this young woman turns out to be Elise Makris, as you suspect, we +are likely to be up against a blackmailing gang here,” he observed. +“And I should gather they pursue their activities chiefly abroad. You +will remember the porter dropped the fact that Glenthorne was +frequently out of England.” + +They snatched a light meal at Boulogne and they got out at Amiens for +a very welcome whisky and soda. The Paris train was pretty full, and +there was no opportunity for further disclosures of a confidential +nature. Just before they rolled into the station, Grewgus whispered in +his companion’s ear: + +“As you said I was to spare no expense, I sent a wire to an old ally +of mine to meet the train. We have worked together very often, and he +is a most useful fellow, being a splendid linguist. He can speak +French like a native, even to its slang. It may be I shall have to +watch more than one person, and he will come in handy for the other.” + +Evidently Mr. Grewgus was going to do the thing thoroughly, and the +young man was pleased that he had got hold of such a painstaking +fellow. The man with whom he had made the appointment was waiting on +the platform, a clean-shaven, smart-looking individual rather like +Grewgus himself. He was introduced to Lydon by the name of Simmons. + +“I think you and I, Mr. Lydon, will stay at the _Palace Hotel_; it is +pretty handy to the other one. We will go there first and book our +rooms, and then proceed to the _Terminus_. If we wait a bit in the +great hall there, we shall be pretty certain to spot our quarry. We’ll +take Simmons with us, as he will want to know her as well, in case he +has to be put on the job later.” + +They secured their rooms and then went on to the _Terminus_. The hall +was very full, but they found room in a corner, an admirable situation +where they could survey everybody at their leisure without attracting +too much attention themselves. + +They sat there a long time, and Lydon was beginning to fear that Miss +Mayhew had changed her plans, gone to some other hotel than the one +given in Stormont’s letter of instructions. But presently a familiar +figure, dressed in the height of fashion, passed through the hall, and +when near the exit, lingered as if she was waiting for some one. Lydon +spoke to the detective in a low voice: “That is she, waiting at the +end.” + +The two men took stock of her. “Singularly handsome young woman,” +commented Grewgus in the same cautious tones. “I suppose she is +waiting for the man Edwards.” + +But she was not. To Lydon’s surprise and relief, another familiar +figure crossed the hall, joined her, and the two went out together. It +was that of the woman he had known as Madame Makris, the tenant of the +Villa des Cyclamens. + +There was no mistaking her. He remembered too well that stout form, +the still handsome face with its traces of youthful good looks, the +Jewish cast of countenance. He imparted the information to Grewgus. + +A satisfied smile stole over the detective’s countenance. “Well, this +is a bit of the most splendid luck at the very start,” he said. “The +mother, the blemish which I could not see from here, the pendant which +I could see, I think we have found one of the most important things we +wanted, at once. There can be no doubt, in face of those three things, +that she is Elise Makris, or at any rate that that is one of possibly +numerous aliases. Anyway, she is the woman who drove your friend to +frenzy. I expect mother and daughter are devoted to each other, and +hunt in couples wherever they can. The next thing is to find out what +game they are after here.” + +He whispered a few words to his colleague, Simmons, who rose and left +the hall. “I have sent him to make an inquiry,” Grewgus explained. “He +knows a few of the servants here, and, as I told you, he speaks French +like a Frenchman.” + +Simmons returned presently and related the result of his visit. “They +give out they are Englishwomen, and are known as Mrs. and Miss +Glenthorne. No man of the name of Edwards is staying here.” + +“Ah, I thought she wouldn’t register as Miss Mayhew,” was the +detective’s comment. “I suppose a different name for each job. Well, +gentlemen, we’ve got as much here as we can for the present. I don’t +think we’ll stay any longer. I propose we adjourn to a café, have a +drink and discuss our future plan of action.” + +They agreed with his suggestion. In their walk to a café close at +hand, Grewgus did not speak much. His mind was no doubt busily working +on the situation, and the best way of tackling it. + +When they were half-way through their drinks, he spoke. “We can’t hope +to do very much this evening. Now what I propose is this, Mr. Lydon. +I know Paris rather thoroughly, although I daresay my friend Simmons +knows it better. This isn’t exactly a pleasure trip you’ve come on, +and you won’t want to spend more money than is absolutely necessary. +We must have something to eat, for that light meal at Boulogne wasn’t +very satisfactory.” + +Lydon laughed. “I am in hearty agreement with you. The long journey +has made me feel frightfully hungry.” + +“Well, if we go to one of the swagger places, you’ll be charged +through the nose. This is the city _par excellence_ of good cooking, +and I can take you to a capital little restaurant close by where +everything is excellent, and you’ll pay about a third of the price. +Their wines are good and reasonable too.” + +“I’m in your hands,” said the young man. “I should like you to take me +along as soon as possible.” He noticed that Simmons did not appear to +be included in the suggestion. The reason was explained when Grewgus +turned to his colleague. + +“It’s not likely we shall be fortunate enough to do much to-night, as +I said just now. We have had one big bit of luck to start with which +has saved us a lot of time and trouble. All the same we won’t let our +vigilance sleep. I want you to start on the watch at once, Simmons, if +this woman and her mother come back. We shall be at the _Restaurant +Grice_ for at least a couple of hours. If in the meantime there is +anything to report, come to us there. If we have gone, come to the +hotel.” + +The obedient Simmons finished his drink, rose up and went forth at +once to obey his leader’s commands. After a final _apéritif_, Grewgus +led his companion to the _Restaurant Grice_. + +Here they had a most excellent meal, consisting of a good soup, a sole +worthy of the _Café Royal_, followed by some tender veal. They drank +with it a white wine recommended by Grewgus. + +While they were eating, the detective dwelt regretfully on the vast +difference between now and before the war. “If you knew the ropes, it +was one of the cheapest places in the world to live in, and whatever +you paid, you got splendid value for your money. Of course, very few +of the English who came here _did_ know the ropes. I shouldn’t have +known them but for a young fellow I met, a student in the Latin +Quarter. Gad! What he didn’t know about Paris wasn’t worth knowing.” + +After their dinner was over, they sat and smoked to the accompaniment +of another bottle of white wine. Grewgus was not keen on spirits. They +had promised to wait a couple of hours there in case Simmons had +anything to report, and they were as comfortable here as they would +have been in their hotel, more so perhaps. + +During this period of waiting, Grewgus entertained his host with some +more thrilling stories of crooks and crookdom. Lydon found himself +much interested. Before he met this reminiscent person he had no idea +that there was so much rascality in the world. According to Grewgus, +every big city was teeming with it. On the whole, for what he called +aristocratic crookdom he was inclined to give the palm to Nice, “where +our friend Miss Mayhew appears to hail from,” he observed with a +sardonic chuckle. + +“She’s a member of some foreign gang, I suppose?” suggested Lydon. +“She has a foreign look about her, although I heard her mother was an +Englishwoman, apparently an English Jewess.” + +Grewgus shook his head. “I should rather fancy an international one. +Whitehouse is mixed up with her; we can’t assume him to be ignorant of +his niece’s activities, if she is really his niece. Then there is the +man Edwards, and of course Stormont, upon whose business she is here, +according to that letter. Three Englishmen, you see. Decidedly an +international gang by that.” + +“What is your reading of it so far, Mr. Grewgus?” + +“Well, we can’t say positively till I’ve found out what her game is +here. But I should say she is one of the working members of the gang, +and Edwards is another. Whitehouse and his friend are probably the +controlling spirits who plan and engineer but never come into the +open, never execute the dirty work.” + +A few minutes before the two hours had expired, Simmons bustled in +with an air of importance that told he had something of interest to +communicate. + +It was briefly this. Mother and daughter had returned to the hotel +alone, an hour after they left it. The mother had gone upstairs; Miss +Glenthorne had sat in the hall, evidently waiting for somebody. That +somebody presently turned up in the shape of an opulent-looking +Frenchman, thickly bearded and of middle age. The couple left together +and drove to one of the most expensive restaurants in Paris. + +Simmons followed them into the expensive restaurant, and had his +dinner there, conceiving it to be his duty to spend money in order to +watch them. From the waiter who attended on him, he learned that the +Frenchman was an old customer, and a wealthy man. He was a partner in +the big firm of jewellers, Dubost Frères, located in Marseilles. +Every three months he made a trip to Paris to have dealings with firms +in the same line of business. On these occasions, the waiter had been +told, he brought with him several samples worth thousands of pounds. +His name was Monsieur Léon Calliard. + +With regard to the young woman, the waiter knew nothing about her. He +fancied he recognized her as having been in the restaurant before +during his period of service, but he could not say with whom. This was +certainly the first time he had seen Monsieur Calliard in her company. + +From the restaurant, where they quickly got through their dinner, +Simmons followed them to a music-hall, where he had left them when he +came to make his report. + +“Nobody joined them in the music-hall, no Englishman who might be the +man Edwards?” queried Grewgus when his colleague had finished his +recital. + +“No, so far, Edwards has not appeared upon the scene,” was the answer. + +The detective looked at his client. “Looks like a case of blackmail, +or perhaps robbery and blackmail,” was his comment. “Anyway the old +game.” + +“I didn’t know whether you would like to go and have a look at them +yourself?” hazarded Simmons. + +But Grewgus thought not. He would wait till to-morrow to get on the +track of the man Edwards, that is, if he were taking an active part in +the affair and still in Paris. + + + + + CHAPTER TEN + +After breakfast the next morning, Grewgus inquired if Lydon had any +intention of making a long stay in Paris. + +The young man replied in the negative. His business claimed him, his +sweetheart claimed him, although he did not communicate the latter +item to the detective. He had, up to the present, said nothing about +her, or her relationship to Stormont. Naturally, he shrank from doing +so. + +“I take it, if I stayed, I could be of little use to you in your +proceedings, Mr. Grewgus?” he queried. + +The reply was polite, but quite emphatic. “Well, Mr. Lydon, I think +not. If I detailed you off on the watching business, you might find it +a very difficult job. Shadowing people is an art--of course Simmons +and I are quite used to it.” + +“I am sure I understand. If I attempted to follow Miss Mayhew about, +she would soon spot it. You do it in some mysterious way, so that +while observing, you contrive to escape observation.” + +Grewgus was pleased to find his client took such a sensible view of +the situation. He bestowed on him a cordial smile. + +“Everybody to his job, Mr. Lydon. I may say to you that, speaking from +a professional point of view, this promises to be an exceedingly +interesting case, more especially when we succeed in getting on to the +track of the man Edwards who is no doubt about. I don’t fancy the +young woman is doing it all off her own bat.” + +There was a certain air of satisfaction about Grewgus as he spoke +which convinced his client he was engaged in a business after his own +heart. There had been aroused in him those sleuth-like instincts, +lacking which no man makes a good hunter of criminals. + +Grewgus was away all the morning, and Lydon took advantage of his +absence to stroll about and renew his rather slight acquaintance with +the beautiful city. They met for _déjeuner_ at the same place where +they had dined the previous evening. + +There was news of some importance to communicate. Simmons had seen +Miss Mayhew with a tall, elegant-looking young man in the Bois de +Boulogne. They had separated very soon, and, surmising the man to be +Edwards, he had followed him to his quarters in an hotel in a +different part of the city, close to the Gare du Nord. Discreet +inquiries elicited that the young man was registered under his proper +name; he had not thought it necessary to change it like Miss Mayhew. + +“It looks as he if were in charge of the job, and that the girl is +playing her usual rôle of decoy,” remarked Grewgus, when he had +imparted this information. “The two meet while this silly old Calliard +is doing his business in Paris. No doubt Miss Mayhew and her elderly +admirer will spend this evening and other evenings together till it is +time to pluck him. The waiter told Simmons he is a married man. If he +were not, we might give the young woman the benefit of the doubt, and +credit her with the intention of pulling off an advantageous +marriage.” + +“In that case, the man Edwards wouldn’t be wanted,” observed Lydon, +who was quite shrewd in his way. “He will probably appear upon the +scene presently as the injured husband, or outraged brother, or +something equally terrifying to this poor enamoured old man.” + +Later on, Grewgus saw his client off at the station and wished him +_bon voyage_. “I instructed my man in London to send a report of his +discoveries with regard to Stormont and Whitehouse, not only to me +here, but to you at your private address, as it will save time. I +shall keep you posted at this end. Of course, for a day or two I may +have nothing to communicate, as so far we have found out a good bit in +the short time. We have located Edwards, we have proved beyond the +smallest possibility of doubt that Zillah Mayhew and Elise Makris are +one, by the presence of the mother. And, of course, our friend at +Effington Hall stands revealed by his letter as the prime mover in the +affair.” + +Lydon arrived in London the same night, and early on the following +morning sent a wire to Gloria asking her to meet him at the _Savoy_ +for luncheon. On his breakfast table had lain an envelope addressed in +an unfamiliar handwriting. It contained a long memorandum +headed--“Copy of a report forwarded to Mr. Grewgus in Paris.” +Obviously the detective’s agent had lost no time, he must have worked +at top speed, as he could only have devoted two days to the inquiries. + + + The report read as follows: “I could not start as soon as I should + have liked, as I had no personal knowledge of Stormont and had to + travel down to Effington and hang about there till I had spotted the + man, and learned something of his habits. On the next morning I + shadowed him at Waterloo, and followed him to Hornby Square in the + City. He went into a small suite of offices, on the entrance door of + which were marked the names of Robinson & Company, financiers. Further + inquiries elicited that his firm kept no staff, that only two men were + there, sometimes together, sometimes alone, Stormont and a taciturn, + rather unpleasant-looking man whom the porter knew by the name of + Whitehouse. + + “I shadowed Whitehouse when he left in the afternoon about four + o’clock and found he occupies a flat Number 18 in Ashstead Mansions, + off Sloane Square. The family consists of himself, his wife and a + niece, Miss Mayhew. Both uncle and niece frequently take journeys + abroad. He is known there as Glenthorne.” + + +Leonard smiled as he read this part. It was evident that the +hall-porter at Ashstead Mansions had again been a source of +information. + +“There seems little or no business doing at Hornby Square, so far as I +could gather. There are a very few occasional callers, and a fair +amount of correspondence. Taking the aspect of things in a general +conjunction, and remembering the suspicious circumstance that the man +Whitehouse calls himself Glenthorne in private life, I should say the +office in Hornby Square is used as a blind, and that no legitimate +business is carried on there.” + +There was a letter to Lydon accompanying the report signed John Ross, +in which the writer stated that he was forwarding it in compliance +with the instructions of his principal, Mr. Grewgus. + +Lydon laid the report down, thinking that it fully confirmed his +suspicions, and marvelling what an immense amount had come to light in +consequence of his sudden determination to open the letter to Zillah +Mayhew. If Stormont only knew, how he would curse his sister’s +officiousness in getting those letters posted. + +As he expected might be the case, he found Gloria very hurt that her +sweetheart had not written to her during his brief absence. It was +very unkind, she told him: if the positions had been reversed, she +would have sent him a long letter every day. + +He hated lying to the charming girl, she was always so frank and open +herself. But what was he to do under the circumstances? He could not +admit that the journey to Glasgow was a myth, that he had really gone +to Paris to get evidence against her uncle. + +The day might come when he would have to open her eyes as to +Stormont’s real character, but it had not arrived yet. He must have +stronger evidence than he possessed at the moment. + +“My darling, you can’t imagine how busy I was,” he pleaded in excuse +of his neglect. “I was rushing about from place to place; when I had a +spare second I was ’phoning somebody or writing telegrams.” + +Being a very sweet-tempered girl, she was soon placated, and made no +further allusion to the distasteful subject. Nothing of any moment had +happened at Effington; there had been one dinner party during his +absence, and there was to be another one on his next weekly visit, on +the Saturday. + +“I think uncle is drawing in his horns a bit,” she observed. “He seems +to be cutting it down to one dinner party a week instead of two or +three. He has been up to London a good deal more lately; he says he +has a great deal of business on. So that I daresay consoles him for +the comparative lack of gaiety. But, of course, he’s never really +happy unless he is entertaining.” + +“And I suppose he doesn’t really care twopence for the people on whom +he lavishes so much of his money?” queried Lydon. + +“I’m sure he doesn’t,” was the answer. “It’s just a form of +excitement. That’s the pity of it. I am fond enough of company in a +reasonable sort of way, but then I would choose people I really liked +for themselves, for their qualities, not because they lived in a big +house and were important people in the neighbourhood.” + +He rather looked forward with distaste to his next visit to Effington. +It would be so difficult to avoid showing a change of manner to +Stormont. He knew that a dozen times in the day an almost irresistible +impulse would overtake him, prompting him to tell the rubicund +hypocrite that he knew him for what he was, the friend and abettor of +Elise Makris, the decoy of a gang of blackmailers. The day would come +when he must tell him, but for the present he must practise patience. + +He must wait till his case was strengthened, so as to leave Stormont +no loophole for plausible explanation. If confronted now, how easy for +him to say that he knew nothing of the girl’s criminal activities, +that he could not be supposed to be aware she was leading a double +life. He could hear him rolling out in an unctuous voice some such +words as these: + +“My dear Leonard, do be reasonable. I made her acquaintance through +Whitehouse, a most respectable man with whom I have been associated in +business for years. I found she had great aptitude. She is useful to +me, with her charm of manner, in many delicate and difficult financial +negotiations with important people. The man Edwards is one of my +trusted agents. I often send him when I cannot go myself, confident +that he will look after my interests faithfully. Your suspicions are +the merest moonshine.” + +He might even be able to wriggle his way out, with regard to the man +John Whitehouse. He would say that he carried on two businesses under +two different names for the sake of distinguishing them. That at +Hornby Court he was Whitehouse, at his other offices Glenthorne. + +No, he must not yet show in his manner that he was on his track. But +he would avoid him as much as possible, see as little of him as he +could, take long walks and drives with Gloria. To do him justice, the +so-called financier did leave the lovers pretty much to themselves; so +did Mrs. Barnard, who might or might not be in the secret of her +brother’s double life. + +Still, he would have to sit through a good many meals with his host, +and he would find it trying. He was not very fond of those lavish +dinner parties which gave Stormont such keen pleasure, but he felt +rather grateful for this particular one which would keep them very +much apart for that evening. + +On that same Saturday afternoon, a very strange thing occurred. Mrs. +Barnard had gone out to luncheon that day, and the three sat chatting +together for some little time after the meal was concluded, Lydon +being the most silent member of the party. + +Presently they went out into the hall together, the young man having +suggested to his sweetheart that they should take a stroll in the +grounds. A peculiar spectacle met their view. + +A bronzed-looking, elderly man, with a shaggy beard and moustache, +rather shabbily dressed, was standing inside close by the door. A +smart-looking young footman stood near to him, with rather the air of +mounting guard. Duncan, the butler, was advancing in the direction of +the dining-room, but halted when he saw the party approaching. + +He spoke in his grave, respectful voice, in which there seemed just a +tinge of surprise. “A--a--person wishes to see you, sir. He declines +to give his name, says he wants to surprise you.” + +Stormont started for a second, then advanced towards the new-comer +whom he could not see very distinctly, as he was afflicted with +short-sight. Then, when he got close to him, his face went pale under +its tan, and the words dropped from his lips slowly, as if they were +forced from him. “Tom Newcombe, by all that’s wonderful.” + +The shabby-looking man burst into a loud laugh and extended a hand. +Lydon noticed it was not over-clean, and the other took it with +evident embarrassment. + +“Tom Newcombe it is, your old pal. Glad to see you again, Howard, and +to find things are so well with you. That gentleman is quite right, I +wouldn’t give my name, I wanted to give you a surprise.” He glanced at +the footman. “I think this young fellow has got an idea I’m a burglar +or something of the sort; he’s been looking at me suspiciously ever +since I came in.” + +There was an awkward pause. Stormont’s agitated countenance showed +that he was very much upset by this unexpected arrival of his “old +pal.” The footman disappeared rapidly. Duncan retreated with his slow, +majestic step, his grave face looking graver than ever. Before he came +to Effington, he had lived all his life in refined and aristocratic +families. Never had he known, in his respectable experience, such an +occurrence as this--a shabby-looking stranger entering the house and +greeting the owner as “your old pal.” There is no doubt the dignified +butler was thoroughly shaken. + +Lydon was very generous-hearted, and in spite of the altered feelings +with which he now regarded Stormont, he could not but feel a wave of +pity for the man, subjected to such a rude shock in the very midst of +his splendour, before the eyes of his astonished servants. Thinking +the most tactful course was to withdraw, he touched Gloria lightly on +the arm. + +“Let us go for our stroll,” he said, and she, understanding his +object, nodded her head. They went out and left the agitated Stormont +to deal with Mr. Tom Newcombe. + +When they were in the grounds, she turned to him, a look of surprise, +Lydon fancied a faint hint of trouble, in her clear, candid blue eyes. +“What can it mean, Leonard? Such a common fellow too, his way of +talking! Not a broken-down gentleman. You heard him speak of uncle as +his ‘old pal.’ Where in the name of wonder could he have known him?” + +“Do you know anything of your uncle’s past, of his life as a young +man?” As her sweetheart put the question, his thought was that she +probably knew as little of the past as she did of the present. + +The girl answered him with her usual frankness. “Nothing. From some +little things father dropped, I gathered that he was rather wild in +his youth. I don’t fancy they had ever been very good friends as young +men. I am sure you have noticed how little Uncle Howard ever talks +about himself, about his business or his past. I know nothing about +these things. Auntie may know more about them than I do, but I don’t +fancy very much. He is so strangely reticent. He certainly told her he +was going to borrow money from you, but I expect he did so because he +thought you might let it out to one of us. If he had been sure of your +silence, she would never have heard a word about it, I am convinced.” + +After a short pause, she resumed the subject. “I cannot understand it, +the man is obviously of such a common class. The Stormonts come from +very homely stock, I know, but they are miles above this. I don’t +think I have ever told you much about the family history, which I +learned from my father, not my uncle. I don’t think I have ever heard +him allude to his family. He is as reticent about them as he is about +himself.” + +She proceeded to tell him about the past Stormonts. Her grandfather +was a small tradesman in a Midland town, his family consisted of two +sons, Howard and Jasper. Although not ambitious for himself, he was +for his children, and he stinted and screwed to give them a good +education to enable them to do better in the world than their father. + +That education had stood them in good stead and developed their native +brains. Jasper, the elder of the two, was a very clever fellow, +although he had made nothing like the money his brother had done. +This, in Gloria’s opinion, was simply due to lack of opportunity, to +that absence of luck which plays such a large part in human affairs. +And what money Jasper did make he took good care of. + +“But although he has never tried to make any show, father’s career has +been one of steady success,” she concluded with an air of pardonable +pride. “And he is one of the most upright men, with high ideals of +duty. He has not got Uncle Howard’s robust geniality, but he has most +lovable qualities. I should be so pleased for you to meet him.” + +They strolled about for a long time before they returned to the house. +Before they went in, Gloria had confided to her lover her perplexity +as to what Stormont would do with his unwelcome guest. Mr. Newcombe +certainly could not join the ultra-respectable dinner party that would +assemble in the evening. + +This problem was presently solved by Stormont himself, who later on +came into the billiard-room to find them. + +He had recovered a good deal from the shock, but it was easy to see by +his nervous, jerky manner, that he was still very ill at ease over +this disconcerting experience, and the necessity of furnishing some +explanation of it. + +He tried to carry it off in his usual hearty bluff way, but Lydon knew +that he would have given a big sum of money for it not to have +happened. + +“Strange after all these years, very strange! Poor old Tom Newcombe to +have come down so; he was fairly prosperous at one time. A rough +diamond, but one of the best, one of the very best.” It was obvious to +both there was no real heartiness in his voice as he pronounced these +warm eulogies on the shabby-looking man. + +He went on in the same jerky, unconvincing manner, addressing himself +rather more directly to his niece. “I suppose you are wondering how I +came to know him?” + +“I think we are,” said Gloria, speaking with her usual directness. “He +spoke as if you had been on very intimate terms.” + +“So we were, so we were,” was the reply. “I must reveal a little bit +of my life that I have said nothing to you about before. Even your +aunt and father know very little of it. When I was quite a youngster, +I was a bit inclined to kick over the traces. And, in one of my wild +moods, I went out to Australia in the hope of making my fortune +quickly. It was there I met Tom Newcombe, who had been lucky and made +quite a respectable pile. In that land of democratic equality we +chummed up together. After a few years I left, having made no headway. +But during that trying time Newcombe was a splendid pal to me, let me +share with him when I was wanting a meal. I have never set eyes on him +since. And now poor old Tom has turned up, broke to the world. One of +the saddest things I know.” + +Lydon was firmly convinced the man was lying, that he had invented +this explanation of his acquaintance with the rough-looking stranger. +Even Gloria looked somewhat doubtful. + +“What are you going to do with him, uncle? Will he stay here?” she +asked quickly. + +“Of course. Could I turn out a man who befriended me as he did?” +answered Stormont with a fine show of virtuous rectitude. “A pity we +have got that party on to-night. I should have been proud to have such +a fine fellow at my table, in spite of the fact that he is not quite +of our--er--class. But he is a sensible chap and sees things clearly. +He has no evening clothes, and none of mine would fit him. He will +have his dinner in my study, and I shall instruct the servants to show +him the greatest respect. There will be nobody here to-morrow, and he +can then join us.” + +He was carrying it out very bravely, as well as anybody could, turning +the rough Tom Newcombe into almost a hero. But Lydon disbelieved every +word he said, as he naturally would, and Gloria did not seem very +convinced. + +“You are going to help him, of course?” she said in the same quiet +tone. + +A generous glow seemed to animate Stormont’s whole manner as he +replied to her. And Lydon was more than ever convinced that the man +was acting for all he was worth. + +“I should think so. I have heaps of faults, but want of humanity, +thank Heaven, is not one of them. I shall help poor old Tom as long as +he wants help, as he helped me when I was in need.” + +With the utterance of these noble sentiments, the conversation ended. +Stormont went away to shut up with his guest till dinner-time. The +respectable people of the neighbourhood came to the banquet and did +full justice to it, in ignorance that not far from them, in the host’s +study, a shabby-looking man, waited upon by a rather supercilious +footman, was partaking in solitude of the same rich viands and choice +wines. + +When the last carriage had rolled away, Mrs. Barnard went to bed, +explaining that she was tired with her long day. Was it because she +wished to avoid any conversation with her niece about the unexpected +guest? + +Stormont went to look after Newcombe. He promised to join them shortly +in the billiard-room, as the night was still young. + +He came in looking rather relieved, and proposed a three-handed game. +“I’ve set the poor chap in front of a bottle of whisky; it will do him +good after his privations,” he said genially. “I hope, though, he +won’t take too much; he has a little weakness in that direction.” + +They had not played more than half an hour when the door opened, and +the shabby figure of Mr. Newcombe appeared. His face was very flushed, +there was no doubt about his condition. His gait was uncertain, and +his voice was decidedly thick. + +Advancing towards the billiard-table, he looked at his host with a +very unfriendly expression, in which Lydon saw, or perhaps fancied he +saw, a hint of menace. + +“Look here, Stormont, my boy. Old pal as you may have been, I’m not +going to stand much more of this sort of thing. I’m being treated in a +way I don’t like. It’s devilish unhandsome, to say the least of it.” + +The more than half-drunken man was meditating a scene in revenge for +some real or fancied grievance. Gloria paled and reddened by turns and +looked apprehensively at her uncle. + +Lydon waited developments. Would this fellow in his cups, and without +the least control over his faculties, blurt out something that would +give the lie to Stormont’s hastily concocted story? + + + + + CHAPTER ELEVEN + +Stormont himself seemed quite taken aback by this almost savage +onslaught, almost as deprived of self-control as Newcombe himself. +“What are you complaining of?” he asked, in a voice that was scarcely +audible. + +The man whom his accent declared to be a Colonial, answered in his +thick utterance: “I don’t say anything about not being asked to dine +with your swell friends, they’re not my kidney, and I’d rather have +their room than their company. But after they’d all gone, you might +have introduced me to your family.” + +He pointed a shaking forefinger at the shrinking Gloria, who was +immensely afraid of a drunken man. Stormont was pretty liberal in his +potations, but he never got into anything approaching this condition. + +“This pretty girl, I take it, is your niece. And this, I suppose, is +her young man you told me about. Looks a bit stuck-up, I fancy, like +the young feller who brought me my dinner. But I daresay I shall find +him a good sort when we’re better acquainted.” + +He walked with his unsteady gait towards the table on which the +ever-thoughtful butler had placed refreshments. + +The action seemed to rouse Stormont from his trance. “Stop it,” he +shouted in a voice of thunder. “Stop it. You’ve had more than you can +carry already.” + +But he was too late, Newcombe had already filled a tumbler half-full +of raw whisky and tossed it down his throat as if it had been water. +Having done this, his manner seemed to change. From a mood very nearly +approaching ferocity, he lapsed into one of maudlin sentimentality. A +weak smile overspread his bearded countenance. + +“Well, my boy, we mustn’t quarrel, we’ve been too dear old pals for +that.” He laughed with the disconcerting hilarity of a drunken man. +“Lord, what fine games we’ve had in our day, Howard, haven’t we? Do +you remember that glorious day we followed up old Billy Stiles----?” + +Again Stormont’s voice rang out, and there was a note of almost agony +in it. “Stop, Newcombe, for Heaven’s sake stop. You forget there is a +woman present.” + +The appeal seemed momentarily to sober the wretched man. He turned his +bleary eyes in the direction of Gloria. “Sorry, miss, I’m sure; I +forgot you were here. No offence meant, Howard, my dear old pal. I +haven’t said anything; you’ve noticed that.” + +It was time to end the disgusting scene. Stormont turned to the young +man. “Very sorry, but you’d better take Gloria away. I’ll deal with +this drunken creature and get him to bed.” + +As he spoke, he turned a very malevolent glance on the huddled-up +Newcombe, who had closed his eyes after his last speech, and appeared +to be falling asleep. There was positive hatred in that glance, Lydon +felt assured. And yet a few hours ago he had spoken of the man as a +splendid fellow, as one of the very best. The young man doubted if +there was much love lost on either side, in spite of Newcombe’s +reference to his friend as a dear old pal. + +The lovers went into the drawing-room. Gloria still looked pale, and +not a little indignant. “What a perfect brute!” she cried. “Why has +uncle put up with him for five minutes? You could see the sort he was +at the first glance, a rough savage. Why did he not give him some +money, and make him go?” + +Almost before he was aware of it, the words slipped out of her +sweetheart’s mouth, words that voiced his inmost thoughts. + +“Depend upon it, dear, Mr. Stormont has some good reasons for not +wishing to offend this uncouth fellow.” + +The girl looked up with a startled glance, one which had fear in it as +well as surprise. “Leonard, what is in your mind? Do you suggest”--her +voice faltered for a second--“that he knows anything to Uncle Howard’s +discredit?” + +Lydon felt he had gone a bit too far at the present juncture. He +shrugged his shoulders and spoke in indifferent tones. + +“I don’t suppose young men who go out to Australia and mix with a +rough crowd lead very saintly lives. I daresay Newcombe is acquainted +with a few episodes that would be better suppressed in your uncle’s +family circle. Don’t worry, darling.” + +“But I can’t help it,” replied the ever-frank Gloria. “The whole thing +is so mysterious, and somehow uncle’s explanation seemed to me lame +and halting. Did it strike you in the same way?” + +Leonard hesitated for a moment. It would be easy to say that he had +accepted that statement in perfect good faith, in short, to tell an +absolute lie. But he thought it better on the whole that Gloria should +be allowed to nurse her suspicions. The blow would fall lighter on her +when it had to come. He told her, therefore, that the same impression +had been made on him. + +“I wonder what he was going to say when he was stopped!” she remarked, +after a brief pause. “When he was going to tell something about a man +they had followed up. Uncle seemed in an agony of apprehension. I +almost wish it had come out; I shall only be speculating what it was. +I do hope he is not making an indefinite stay here.” + +But on this point Lydon thought he could see his way to give her some +comfort. Stormont was much too clever a man to allow Newcombe to +exhibit himself to his neighbours; he had been disturbed quite enough +by the fact that he had been seen by the family and servants. + +“Your uncle is a resourceful man, Gloria, I am sure he will soon see a +way of getting rid of him without hurting his feelings. And when the +fellow gets sober again I daresay he will have the sense to perceive +that Effington Hall is hardly a fit _milieu_ for him.” + +The next morning the Colonial did not come down to breakfast; probably +it was too severe a task after the potations of the previous evening. +He appeared in Stormont’s study about twelve o’clock, Lydon and the +ladies having gone to church. What passed between the pair, they had +no means of knowing. Newcombe lunched with them, and his demeanour was +very chastened. He ate heartily, but drank very sparingly. Perhaps his +host had given him a lecture on the fatal effects of intemperance. And +during the meal he scarcely opened his lips. + +Gloria and her sweetheart went out for their afternoon walk. When they +came back to tea, neither Stormont nor Newcombe was visible. Mrs. +Barnard said that her brother had driven the visitor up to London, +where he intended to find a lodging. + +Lydon drew a breath of relief: had the Colonial stayed, there might +have been another disagreeable scene. Gloria openly expressed her +satisfaction. “Loathsome creature, I hope he has gone for good,” she +ejaculated fervently. “Have you ever seen him before, aunt?” + +“Never, my dear, nor do I want to see him again. It must have amazed +your uncle very greatly. Of course in a wild place such as he went to +as a young man, you cannot pick and choose the people you are forced +to associate with. But it is distinctly unpleasant when they turn up +in after life and remind you of the old acquaintance.” + +Had Stormont told her the same tale he had told to them, or did she +know more about that sinister visitor than they did? Nothing in her +demeanour enabled Lydon to determine the point. + +Stormont returned in time for dinner, having deposited his visitor +somewhere. No further allusion was made to him by any member of the +party, but his advent had created an uncomfortable feeling which was +not wholly allayed by his departure. + +Leonard guessed that Mr. Newcombe had taken away with him either a +good sum in cash or a substantial cheque. He had no doubt in his own +mind that the Colonial knew something damaging about Stormont, and +that his visit had been made for the purpose of extorting hush-money. +If so, there was a grim irony in the situation. The man who, according +to all the present evidence, was a blackmailer, was being blackmailed +himself, and maintaining his position as the opulent owner of +Effington by the grace of this rough and down-at-heel Colonial. + +After dinner Stormont shut himself up in his study. During dinner he +had been very quiet, quite unlike his usual genial, rather boisterous +self; it was evident that Newcombe had left a disturbing influence +behind him. Mrs. Barnard went to her own particular sanctum, and the +young people had the drawing-room to themselves. + +“It may have been my fancy,” remarked Gloria, “but I thought I +detected a subtle difference in Duncan’s manner to-day. I saw his face +drop in the hall when that creature spoke of himself as being an old +pal of uncle’s. I shouldn’t wonder if he has made up his mind that it +is no longer a respectable establishment to remain in and intends to +give notice.” + +She had diagnosed the state of the dignified butler’s feelings +correctly, for the next day Duncan intimated his wish to leave. When +pressed for a reason, he murmured something evasive about his desire +for a change. It was a decided shock to his employer, as it showed him +what an unfavourable impression had been created by the unwelcome +visit of this rough stranger. + +Lydon did not know this when he left. Duncan had not delivered his +bombshell till later in the morning. There had been considerable +excitement at the breakfast-table. Something had happened which +temporarily drove Mr. Newcombe out of the minds of every member of the +family. Stormont had received a letter from his brother Jasper, dated +from the _Hotel Cecil_. + +Gloria’s father and mother were staying there, having arrived in +London early on the Sunday. They had given no previous intimation of +their intended visit, as they wanted it to come as a complete surprise +to their relatives. Would they come and see them on the Monday if they +had no previous engagement which it was impossible to put off? Of +course they would dine with them, and in this invitation Leonard was +included. Gloria must stay with them at least a week if not longer. + +The unpleasant atmosphere created by the late happenings seemed very +much cleared by this pleasant news. Stormont and his sister seemed +quite pleased, in spite of the fact that the brothers had not been +very great friends in their youth. He remarked with a touch of his +former geniality that it would be very pleasant to see good old Jasper +again, a sentiment fully endorsed by Mrs. Barnard. Gloria clapped her +hands together in her frank delight. + +“How lovely!” she cried. “It was on the tip of my tongue to say I wish +they had let us know beforehand. But I think I am rather glad they +have taken us by surprise. It is such a sensation.” + +She turned impetuously towards her sweetheart. “I am sure you will +like my father very much, Leonard. He is one of the dearest men, and +very fond of young people, who all take to him. He is awfully liked +out there by everybody, and he has the highest reputation for +integrity and highmindedness.” + +Did Howard Stormont look just a little glum as he listened to this +sincere praise of his elder brother, or was it Lydon’s fancy? Had the +man’s conscience, deadened as it must be, suddenly awakened to fresh +life and pricked at him as he thought of the difference between +Gloria’s father and himself? + +Lydon was pleasurably excited at the prospect of meeting with Jasper +Stormont, of whom his daughter had always spoken with love and the +greatest respect. She had often told him how attached to him she had +been as a child, and what grief she had suffered at parting from her +parents. And time and the generous treatment of her aunt and uncle had +never weakened that early affection. + +When the young man met them in the hall of the _Cecil_, a few minutes +before the time fixed for dinner, he was very favourably impressed by +the appearance of both mother and father. Mrs. Stormont was a very +handsome woman, and her slim elegant figure made her look remarkably +young. She had preserved herself wonderfully, and might have passed +for her daughter’s elder sister. It was easy to see the husband was +very proud of his youthful-looking wife. + +In appearance, Jasper Stormont was quite unlike his younger brother, +his junior by two years. He was tall and spare, with an aristocratic +bearing. His face, if not exactly handsome, was pleasant to look upon +and his features were refined. His manner was quietly genial, without +that bluff boisterousness which distinguished the so-called financier. +It exhaled an air of old-world courtesy which stood out in marked +contrast to some modern manners. + +He welcomed the young man with a cordiality that was perfect under the +circumstances, not too effusive or overdone. Lydon was prepared to +think that everything about the man was genuine; he seemed a perfect +type of the commercial aristocracy. + +“Delighted to see you, Mr. Lydon; later on I shall come to the more +familiar Christian name. But to such a long exile--we have been over +only once before since I left England--everything seems strange, and +in some cases I must confess, of course not in the present one, a +little out of tune. I am glad to see my little girlie looking so well; +certainly her uncle and aunt have taken great care of her and made her +very happy. She is staying here with us for a week, and at the end of +that my brother Howard insists that we must shift our quarters to +Effington.” + +There was something a little formal in his words, in his diction, that +Lydon rather liked. There was also about the man an ease, an +unconscious air of authority that pleased him. Beside him his brother, +Howard Stormont, with his supposed great wealth, appeared plebeian. + +He learned afterwards from Gloria that the elder brother was much the +superior in mentality. He might not have the money-making instinct so +strongly developed, but he had taken far greater advantage of the good +education their father had bestowed upon them. He was a very +cultivated man, passionately fond of art and music and an omnivorous +reader. Howard was essentially a man of the world and nothing more; +the arts did not interest him, and the daily newspapers were almost +his sole literature. + +It was a very pleasant dinner. Jasper Stormont was an exceedingly good +talker, but he led the conversation without any attempt to monopolize +it, giving everybody a chance to contribute to the common fund of +entertainment. + +Howard Stormont and his sister were staying the night at the hotel, +returning to Effington on the morrow. Leonard left early, good taste +suggesting that he should not intrude himself too long on what was a +family conclave. There must be many things they would wish to discuss +alone. + +The liking between the two men seemed mutual. Jasper Stormont shook +Leonard’s hand very warmly when they parted. “As I told you, Gloria is +going to give herself to us for a week, and I should like you to come +very often. To dinner every night if you can.” + +He gave him a very charming smile when the young men protested that +this was taking undue advantage of his position. “Not at all, my dear +young friend. I am afraid my motive is a rather selfish one. I want to +become well acquainted with my future son-in-law.” + +Gloria saw him off; the others with commendable tact did not intrude +upon the tender farewell of the lovers. + +“You like my dear old dad, don’t you, Leonard? He has a heart of +gold,” asked Gloria as they said good night. + +And Leonard was able to say honestly that he had taken a great liking +to Jasper Stormont. He was quite convinced, even on this short +acquaintance, he was a white man through and through. + +It followed that, being so pressed, the young man did dine at the +_Cecil_ every evening of that week. The Stormonts had a small private +sitting-room, but Jasper often took Lydon down into the smoking-room +for a private chat. He had openly avowed his wish to become better +acquainted with his future son-in-law, and these informal intimate +conversations would help him quickly to that knowledge. + +He told Leonard first of his future plans. He expected to retire in +about five years from now and would come back to spend his declining +years in England. He was nothing like so rich a man as his brother +Howard, so he said, but he would be able to live comfortably on the +interest of what he had saved. + +He went on to speak of Gloria’s childhood, and the unhappy time when +they had to part with her. + +“It was one of the greatest griefs of our life,” he said in his +simple, straightforward way. “But there was no help for it. We had the +best medical advice, and the verdict was unanimous, she could not live +in the East. My other child, a son, has thrived there--difference of +constitution, of course.” + +He paused a moment, before resuming this portion of his daughter’s +history, a good deal of which the young man had gathered from his +sweetheart. + +“Just to go back a moment. Howard and I had not been very attached +brothers in our youth, I should hesitate to say with whom the fault +lay. Enough that with regard to most things we did not see eye to +eye.” + +Jasper Stormont did not say what those things were. And Lydon, dearly +as he would have liked to know, did not think it seemly to ask him. + +“But we kept up a rather desultory, if brief correspondence. When this +trouble came upon us, I wrote to him in an agony of spirit as it were, +telling him that we had to part with one of our beloved children. In +writing that letter, I had no ulterior motive in my mind. From what I +knew of my brother’s character, I should have considered him the last +man in the world to consider anything but his own comfort, to disturb +the mode of life which he had mapped out for himself.” + +Lydon gathered this much from those words: namely, that Howard +Stormont was judged to be, in reality, a selfish creature, who lived +for himself, who only studied himself. + +“To my intense surprise, I received an answer which caused me to take +a totally different view of him. He wrote me that having remained a +bachelor so long, there was practically no chance of his exchanging +his estate. He had prospered greatly in the world; he lived with our +widowed sister, Maud Barnard, who had a small income of her own. The +house was at times a bit dull; he thought it would be brightened by +the presence of a child, in whom they could take an interest and find +an object of affection. He offered to adopt Gloria, and make her +welfare his solemn charge. Anyway, let the experiment be tried, for +say a couple of years. If, at the end of that time, Gloria found she +was not happy, her father could make other arrangements.” + +Jasper Stormont paused a little time before he resumed. “But, +fortunately, that did not happen. They spoiled the girl from the day +she went into her new home, and the spoiling has gone on, but I think +I can say my dear girl is none the worse for it. And now, my dear +Leonard, I come to a somewhat delicate topic.” + +“I think I can guess the nature of it,” interjected Lydon. + +“Ah, of course Gloria has told you. I gathered as much from her. +Naturally, grateful as she is to her uncle for his care of her, his +kindness and generosity, she would conceal nothing from us. She has +told me of that loan of a thousand pounds, which of course throws a +very clear light upon my brother’s financial position. We are both men +of business; it tells the same story to both. I know nothing of the +nature of Howard’s business, but it must be a very precarious one, +since he is up to-day and down to-morrow. I don’t suppose he will +leave anything behind him.” + +“I feel quite certain he will not,” Lydon agreed. “But when I asked +Gloria to be my wife, I never took any expectations of that sort into +account.” + +“I quite believe you; you loved my dear daughter for herself. Well, +Leonard, I should like to tell you this. When I and her mother die, +whatever I may have to leave will be divided equally between my +children. Gloria will not be an heiress, but neither will she be a +pauper.” + +Leonard bowed his head in acknowledgment of this intimation, conveyed +with such delicacy and courtesy. + +Howard Stormont might be a scoundrel, a mover in crooked ways, as his +connection with Elise Makris proved, but his brother was certainly an +honest man. + + + + + CHAPTER TWELVE + +At the end of the week, the Jasper Stormonts moved to the fine old +Tudor house at Effington. And, shortly before they did so, there came +for Lydon an invitation from his future uncle-in-law which the young +man fancied had been instigated by the banker. If it did not interfere +with his business arrangements, would Leonard make the Hall his +headquarters for the next week, going up to London in the morning and +returning when the duties of the day were done? Jasper Stormont’s +holiday was to be only a brief one, and shortly he would return to +China for another long period of exile. Perhaps in this brief time he +wished to see as much as possible of the man who was to marry his +daughter, in order to prove if further acquaintance would increase or +diminish his first favourable impressions of him. + +For Gloria had told him that her father had formed an exceedingly good +opinion of him, and expressed his satisfaction that she had made such +a wise choice. + +“And dear dad’s opinion is worth having,” said the girl proudly. She +was fond of her uncle, very grateful to him for all he had done for +her, for the happiness he had brought into her life. But it was easy +to see that for her father she had a great respect almost amounting to +reverence, in addition to her filial love. No doubt, so far as +character was concerned, she put the two men on totally different +planes. And Lydon knew that her instinct was right. Even if he had +never opened that letter to Zillah Mayhew, and still believed Howard +Stormont to be what he had originally thought him--a shrewd, blunt, +genial fellow--he would have soon discovered that Jasper was made of +the sounder metal. + +The young man laughingly told his sweetheart that he thought her +father had been at the bottom of this unusual invitation, and she +admitted it. + +“He’s a very keen judge of character,” she said. “In his responsible +position he is bound to be. And he says you never thoroughly know a +man till you have stayed in the same house with him. No doubt that is +why he wanted you here daily for a time.” + +“Till he had completed his investigations, eh?” observed Lydon, with +an amused smile, although at the same time he had every sympathy with +regard to Jasper’s anxiety on behalf of his child. “Well, dear, I +shall have to mind my P’s and Q’s, shan’t I? I must take care not to +come down grumpy in the morning, or show any of the latent villainy +that is hidden somewhere in my disposition.” + +The girl laughed happily. She had inherited her father’s capacity for +reading character, and she had not much fear of this open, honest, +even-tempered young fellow, whose moods hardly ever seemed to vary. + +It occurred to Lydon that, on this visit, Stormont was devoting +himself much more closely to his business, whatever it might be, than +was usual with him. He went up pretty early to London every day, and +on two occasions he missed dinner, and did not return till late in the +evening. Evidently something of importance was going on. + +There were, strange to relate, no dinner parties during that week. +Lydon could hardly believe there was so much affection between the two +men that Howard wanted to enjoy his brother’s company without +interruption. He thought it was rather a matter of policy. + +Howard knew that, if questioned, Gloria would not be able to conceal +the fact of his extravagance. She might even let out that there were +periods when he was obviously short of money, and in view of these +possible confidences he did not wish to give Jasper the elder +brother’s privilege of lecturing him. In the eyes of such a financial +purist as the banker, his happy-go-lucky methods would savour of +nothing short of criminal folly. + +Lydon listened to his sentiments one night when the two men were +together in the smoking-room, on the second occasion on which Howard +had not returned to dinner. The banker’s face was very grim as he +delivered his criticism on what he knew and had observed. + +“I have known next to nothing of my brother’s affairs since he left +England. I knew he went to Australia for a while and that things did +not prosper greatly with him there. When his letter arrived, offering +to adopt Gloria, and stating that he was firmly on his feet, I +accepted what he said in good faith. Her letters showed they were all +leading a very luxurious life, and that money seemed to be spent like +water. Of course, I was terribly disillusioned when, such a short time +ago, I learned the actual truth. Without mincing words, I can tell you +I was not only surprised but intensely disgusted, especially when I +heard of that thousand pounds borrowed from you. It hit Gloria very +hard, that transaction. She is a girl of extremely delicate feeling, +and under the peculiar circumstances it was in the very worst taste. +Drowning men, we know, catch at straws; it showed how very near to +drowning he must have been. He is no fool; he must know how ugly it +would look to a third party.” + +Lydon made no comment. Had things not been as they were, he might have +put up some defence for Howard Stormont, out of his natural kindness +of heart. But he could not do so now. The man was unscrupulous to the +core. + +“When my brother was a young man, he was always very headstrong, also +fearfully extravagant, if only in a small way,” went on Jasper in the +same severe tone. “He never seemed able to curb his desires, to +restrain any momentary impulse. If he wanted a thing and hadn’t the +money to pay for it, he would go into debt to get it, trusting that +luck would enable him to avoid the disagreeable consequences. I know +this fatal weakness was a great anxiety to our parents, honest and +God-fearing people, and made them tremble for his future. + +“This big house, with its staff of indoor and outdoor servants eating +him up, is a piece of the most colossal folly I have ever come across, +and in my business we meet with very many specimens of the +spendthrift. Everybody in the banking world does. I have no hesitation +in discussing it with you; as Gloria’s future husband you have a right +to know how matters stand. And further, in the distress which he +brought on himself, he showed his hand plainly to you.” + +As Jasper Stormont elected to be so confidential with him, he thought +he might continue the conversation on the same lines. + +“It seems to me that his business is evidently a very precarious one. +It is rather a strange thing that I have never known what that +business really is; it is not a thing on which you can put a quite +straight question to a man, but it usually leaks out pretty soon. You +know that I am a consulting engineer; I know that you hold a high post +in the banking world. I have never even heard from your brother where +his offices are. Gloria does not seem to know much about it. She +thought he was what you call a financier. Well, we must admit that is +rather a vague term.” + +“And I can assure you, Leonard, I know almost as little as you do; my +sister appears equally ignorant. When I have talked about the subject, +about which there should be no mystery, there is an obvious attempt to +sheer off it. So far as I can gather from random statements, he might +be described as a financier. He gets concessions from foreign +countries; he negotiates big loans for all sorts of things, does a bit +of company promoting, etc. But he avoids details and gives no names. +Of course, some men are very reticent about their private affairs, but +reticence so pronounced savours greatly of mystery.” + +There was a long pause and then the banker waved his hand round the +room, decorated and furnished in such a costly fashion, with a gesture +that was contemptuous. + +“But one thing I am certain of, I have often been told that I possess +second sight in matters like these. This cannot go on for long, in the +light that has been thrown upon it by his borrowing from you what was, +after all, a trifling sum for a man in a good way of business to find. +A year or two of bad trade will bring him to the ground. Perhaps +another year’s reprieve in which he will be struggling to tide over. +You and I will then, I expect, be invited to put money into the +sinking ship. If so, take my advice and sternly refuse. With a man of +my brother’s headstrong nature and extravagant proclivities, you might +as well throw it in the sea.” + +Lydon thanked his future father-in-law for his advice, thinking, as he +did so, that Howard Stormont would never get another loan out of him. +Did this honourable, straightforward man of business only know what he +knew, he would be overwhelmed with grief and shame at possessing such +a brother. + +“You can see it is a subject on which I have necessarily to hold my +tongue,” exclaimed Jasper Stormont. “For all I ought to know to the +contrary, he may be conducting his affairs with the greatest prudence, +is making enough to enable him to run this place and accumulate a fair +fortune besides. What I know about the true state of affairs comes +from Gloria, from whom I have drawn it with the greatest reluctance. +My lips are sealed; she would hate him to find that she has been +telling tales out of school; for whatever faults he may have, he has +taken the place of a second father to her, and she cannot but +appreciate him for that.” + +Yes, scoundrel as he might be, Howard Stormont no doubt had his good +points, and his kindness to his niece was not the least amongst them. + +“I forgot to tell you one thing, not that I am very greatly impressed +by it,” said the banker as they parted for the evening. “The other +day, in a fit of confidence, he imparted to me that he was on a very +big thing which he expected to mature shortly, something out of which +he would make enough to secure a handsome competence for life. If this +came off, he said he would retire from business, and lead this life of +a country gentleman which appears to have such great fascinations for +him.” + +Leonard pricked up his ears at this information. If Howard Stormont +was on some big enterprise, it would be of a nefarious kind. + +“He didn’t disclose the nature of this great _coup_, of course?” he +asked. + +The banker shook his head. “He didn’t give me the slightest hint. But, +as I said, I attach very little importance to it. All these +speculators are sanguine creatures, and follow wills-o’-the-wisp with +a blind devotion worthy of a better cause. They have always got some +grand scheme on which is to make them rich beyond the dreams of +avarice.” + +Lydon was much impressed by that conversation with Jasper Stormont. +Like himself, at an earlier stage, he had sensed a certain mystery +surrounding his brother. He wondered whether bankruptcy and poverty +would be the only doom that might fall upon the owner of Effington +Hall? He thought he might escape that, in spite of the banker’s gloomy +predictions. After all, he had kept up opulent state for a great many +years. According to Gloria’s statement, he had been wealthy ever since +she had taken up her residence with them. He was a cunning and +resourceful man; although he lacked the solid qualities of his +brother, probably he would never come quite down to the ground. But +the young man was not sure a darker doom might not descend upon him in +spite of his cleverness. + +He wondered if his sweetheart had told her father of the visit of that +shabby Colonial, and the scene in the billiard-room when the drunken +creature had been on the point of blurting out something, and had been +stopped by his host, who was in a perfect agony of apprehension. He +asked her the next day, and she assured him she had kept silence. + +“I have really let out more about Uncle Howard than I ought,” she +explained, in a contrite voice. “But dad has a very persuasive way +with him; he would have made a splendid cross-examiner. I expect his +business has developed his faculties in that direction; he says that +people wanting favours come to him with all sorts of ingenious lies. +He leads you on in a quiet, suave sort of way to all kinds of +admissions. And you know I haven’t the gift of reticence, I am far too +outspoken. I could see that uncle was terribly upset by that visit. I +have noticed a great change in him since. He gives me the impression +of a man who has received a great shock, and can’t recover from it.” + +Lydon had himself noticed a certain change in the man. He was less +bluff and genial than he used to be, and at times he caught a brooding +expression, an air of abstraction, as if he were thinking deeply over +something. At first he imagined Howard was nerving himself to make a +confession to his brother, similar to the one he had made to himself, +that he was living up to his income and that Gloria could expect very +little from him when he died. But on thinking more over it he came to +the conclusion that his sweetheart was right, that the change in his +demeanour was due to the visit of Tom Newcombe, his “old pal.” + +In the meantime Lydon had received reports from Grewgus, the first +arriving a few days after he had left Paris. From these he learned +that the detective and his colleague were keeping a close watch upon +the man Edwards and Miss Glenthorne, to call her by her latest alias. +They watched them from about eleven o’clock in the morning--the woman +did not stir out till then--till late at night. + +The programme was much the same every day. In the morning Zillah met +the man Edwards, and they walked about together in the outskirts of +Paris. They steered clear of the well-known portions, as no doubt +Calliard was pursuing his business there, and they might run across +him at any moment. In the afternoon they usually took a car and drove +out to Versailles or some other suburb. + +In the evening Zillah invariably met the opulent jeweller, Calliard, +and they dined together at one of the numerous expensive restaurants +that abound in the gay city. Monsieur Calliard was evidently a rich +man and begrudged nothing in the pursuit of his pleasures. + +Then one day came a brief telegram from Grewgus: “The birds have +flown, slipped away. All news when we meet. Leaving to-day. Be at my +office to-morrow morning as early as you like.” + +On the face of it, it looked as if the detective had failed in his +mission, that the two schemers had outwitted him, and stolen a march +on him. + + + + + CHAPTER THIRTEEN + +Lydon thought that Grewgus looked somewhat crestfallen when they met +the following morning in the offices in Craven Street. + +He opened the conversation in a rather apologetic tone. “Well, Mr. +Lydon, the primary object for which we went to Paris was the +establishment of the fact that Zillah Mayhew was the same person as +Elise Makris. But that fact we established on the first day we arrived +there. I stayed on in order to find something more than that. I am +sorry to tell you I have found nothing, except one little thing that +makes the affair more mysterious.” + +“You say they contrived to give you the slip. How was that done when +you were keeping such a close watch on them?” asked the young man in a +tone that plainly showed his disappointment. + +Grewgus hastened to explain. “I am afraid I must plead guilty to a +little want of foresight. After watching very carefully for three +days, we became pretty sure that neither the woman nor her friend +Edwards were what you would call early birds. They did not stir out +before a fairly late hour in the morning.” + +Having, as they thought, established this fact, the two men did not +begin their watch till a certain hour themselves. Had they not been so +confident, it would have been easy to take it in turns to watch one of +them, since, if one of them went out, it was for the purpose of +ultimately meeting the other. As a fact, to carry out the thing +thoroughly, a third, perhaps a fourth, man was wanted. + +“That of course would have entailed a great deal more expense than I +felt myself justified in putting you to,” said Grewgus in exculpating +himself. “The last time I saw Zillah Mayhew, she was dining as usual +with her elderly cavalier. Edwards, according to custom, was spending +his evenings at one of the music-halls. My colleague Simmons never +observed him with anybody, and he never met Miss Mayhew at night. And +it is pretty certain that he never came into contact with Calliard. +Whatever business was to be carried on with the Frenchman seemed to be +left entirely in her hands. No doubt she talked things over with +Edwards in their daily meetings.” + +“You have not even proved conclusively that her object was what we all +thought it to be, blackmail?” interjected Lydon. + +“If you don’t mind, I will just leave that question unanswered for a +moment or two while I relate how they gave us the slip. On that +particular morning, no Zillah Mayhew issued forth from the hotel. I +waited about for a very long time till Simmons joined me. His news was +startling. Edwards, who, as I told you, had put up in another part of +the town, did not turn out either. After a decent interval, Simmons, +who knows somebody in pretty nearly every hotel in Paris, went in and +made inquiries. + +“He learned that Edwards had left some two hours before, carrying his +luggage, a very light portmanteau, with him. He had told them he was +returning to England. Of course I smelt a rat at once, and instructed +Simmons to go into the _Terminus_ and inquire if Mrs. and Miss +Glenthorne were still there. The answer was in the negative. They had +also made an early departure, and had driven to the Gare du Nord; +presumably they were returning to England too.” + +“It seems pretty clear they found out they were being watched, and +judged it prudent to leave,” was Lydon’s natural comment. + +“It looks very like it,” admitted Grewgus. “Now comes the surprising +part of the story. I should have come away at once, but that I had a +fancy to interview Calliard to ascertain if our suspicions were +correct--our suspicions, I mean, as to the object of her acquaintance +with a man so much her senior.” + +Grewgus then proceeded to narrate how, on the following evening, he +had run the jeweller to earth, while dining at one of his favourite +restaurants. He was alone at a rather big table, and the detective +seated himself at it, after a polite apology to the Frenchman for +disturbing him, which was accepted with the habitual courtesy of his +country. Presently they got into general conversation, and when he +judged the time was ripe, Grewgus produced his card and handed it to +him. + +When Monsieur Calliard, who, by the way, spoke English very passably, +ascertained from the card the occupation of the man who had seated +himself at the table, he turned pale and showed considerable signs of +embarrassment. Grewgus easily guessed the reasons for his disturbance. +This opulent jeweller was no doubt a good bit of a philanderer, and +easily attracted by women. His first thought was that his wife +suspected him and had put a private inquiry agent on his track. + +Of course, this notion had to be quickly dispelled. Grewgus explained +that he was not at all concerned with the way in which Monsieur +Calliard chose to spend his leisure hours, but he was greatly +interested in the lady with whom he had dined so frequently. + +At this reassuring statement, Monsieur Calliard recovered his +composure and insisted upon helping his companion to a glass of the +very excellent champagne he was drinking with his dinner. It was easy +to diagnose him as a free liver, a man of considerable _bonhomie_, and +by no means inclined to take a puritan view of life. He answered the +questions put to him in the frankest manner. How had he made the +acquaintance of the lady, and had he always known her by the name of +Glenthorne, as she went sometimes by others? + +The genial jeweller raised his eyebrows at the second of the two +questions. He was evidently going to learn something. + +“Listen, and I will tell you all about it. I suppose it goes without +saying you know who I am?” began Monsieur Calliard. + +“Certainly,” replied Grewgus, with an amiable smile, “you are a +partner in the well-known firm of Dubost Frères of Marseilles.” + +“Of course it would be easy for you to find out. I suppose I am known +to a large circle of waiters in the hotels and restaurants of Paris. I +met this young lady first at Trouville last year, where we formed a +slight acquaintance. I met her later on in Rome, the acquaintance +progressed a little further, and I have only known her under the name +of Glenthorne. At both these places she was in the company of her +mother, a rather good-looking Jewess.” + +“She was not formally introduced to you by anybody, I suppose?” + +Monsieur Calliard shrugged his shoulders with the wealth of gesture +typical of his countrymen. “Ah, no. At Trouville I stayed in the same +hotel, at Rome I met her casually in the street, and she and her +mother dined two or three times with me. She struck me as a very chic +and charming young person who had every wish to make herself friendly. +But I could not quite place her, and her mother was perhaps just a +little in the way at Rome, so that I could not get to know very much +about her. She was exceedingly quiet and ladylike, well educated, and +the mother seemed a most respectable person.” + +“At Rome, I take it, you began to get a bit more fascinated, Monsieur +Calliard?” suggested the detective. + +Again that shrug of the shoulders. “At Marseilles, where one is so +well known and, to a certain extent, looked up to, Monsieur Grewgus, +one has to lead a very staid life. I will confess frankly I am not +quite as good a boy as I should be. I travel about a great deal in the +course of my business, and when I find myself in a place where I have +no intimate friends, I admit to a little flutter now and then. I am +too old to be a gay Lothario, but I am naturally fond of women’s +society,” he added with a roguish smile, “especially the society of +pretty and attractive women.” + +He paused to pour out a second glass of champagne for the interested +Grewgus. Certainly there was no sullen reserve about the genial and +opulent-looking jeweller. He alluded in the frankest fashion to his +little weaknesses, even his peccadilloes. + +“This happened last year,” he resumed. “Charming and chic as she is, +she had almost faded from my mind. Behold, walking down the Boulevard +des Italiens, I come upon her alone. I was very pleased to see her, +for I was getting a bit bored with my own society, and she appeared +pleased to see me. She told me she and her mother were staying at the +_Hôtel Terminus_. Ah, that excellent mother, she had spoiled the Rome +visit. I did not require any more of the good mother. I plucked up my +courage, and asked her point-blank if she could see her way to dine +with me without a chaperone. I should not have been surprised if she +had declined, but she accepted, explaining that things were very much +altered in her own English country since the war, and that for herself +she had always paid little heed to convention.” + +With another expressive gesture, Monsieur Calliard lifted his hands. +“Since then she has dined with me every evening up till last night.” + +“Do you know she has left Paris this morning?” queried Grewgus. + +“She informed me of her intention as we sat at dinner. I was a little +amazed because, having a slack time to-day, we had half made an +appointment to go to Versailles. She excused herself on the plea that +her mother had to return to London on urgent business. I suggested she +should follow Madame Glenthorne later on, but she smiled when I did +so. ‘I am pretty unconventional, Monsieur Calliard,’ she said, ‘but +not quite bold enough for that.’ I think, my friend, that is all I +have to tell you, and now, perhaps, as you seem to know a good deal +about this young lady, you will tell me something that interests me.” + +“With the greatest pleasure, Monsieur Calliard. I will presently tell +you all I do know. But first I should like to put another question. +What sort of an account did the young lady give of herself to you?” + +The jeweller considered: “I cannot remember that she was very +communicative. I gathered that her mother had private means, that they +travelled about a good deal, and were very familiar with the +Continent. She also told me her father was dead, and that they had +hardly any relatives.” + +“Did she tell you where she lived when in England?” + +“They did not stay very much in England, according to her account. +When they did they stopped with an uncle--ah--what is the name of the +place, where your King has a fine Castle?” + +“Windsor,” suggested Grewgus. + +“That is it, Windsor. I did notice one thing about her, that she was +very reserved about her own affairs.” + +“She had every reason to be,” said the detective grimly. “Well, +Monsieur Calliard, you have been very obliging. It is now my turn to +give you some information. I have every reason to believe that this +agreeable-mannered young woman is one of the decoys of a firm of +blackmailers; that she gets hold of men with the ultimate object of +fleecing them.” + +The Frenchman looked intensely astonished. “The decoy of a +blackmailing gang,” he remarked. “A handsome, brilliant young woman +like that! She ought to have made a good marriage. I cannot help +feeling for her more pity than disgust. And that respectable-looking +old Jewess, the mother. Is she a criminal also?” + +Grewgus looked at him sharply. “You had no suspicion, then, of this, I +take it? Now, Monsieur Calliard, whatever you say to me on this +subject will pass out of my mind; I promise you I will not make use of +it. Can you assure me that she has not attempted to blackmail you?” + +It occurred to Grewgus that she had made the attempt, and that her +sudden flight was due to the fact that she had been foiled, that the +Frenchman had taken a bold attitude and defied her. The next words +undeceived him. + +“Upon my word of honour, Monsieur Grewgus, no.” + +Grewgus was fairly convinced that the jeweller was speaking the truth, +that he was not actuated by a feeling of shame which led him to deny +he had been the victim of an artful adventuress. + +“Upon my word of honour, no,” he repeated emphatically. “The opinion I +formed of her was that she was an unconventional girl, leading a +roving sort of existence with a careless and not very interesting +mother, that she was pleased to come across anybody who would take her +about and give her a good time. In spite of her gaiety and enjoyment +of life, I judged her to be of a rather cold temperament. She never +seemed to crave for admiration, although, like all women, she liked a +compliment when you paid it to her.” + +“But surely you made her handsome presents from time to time,” +persisted Grewgus. Monsieur Calliard was a genial old fellow enough, +but not likely to attract a handsome young woman by his personal +gifts. + +But the Frenchman shook his head very decidedly. “Monsieur Grewgus, I +come of thrifty forbears. I like my little flutter now and again, as I +have admitted to you, but I never care to pay too dear for my +weaknesses. What did I give Miss Glenthorne during this visit? Bah! it +is not worth thinking of. A few flowers sent to the hotel, some boxes +of chocolates, once I think half a dozen pairs of gloves. It was not +that which made her dine with me whenever I asked her. It is a bit of +a riddle, I confess. Do you think there is any possibility of your +being mistaken, of your having received wrong information about her? I +am a man of the world, and I could detect no sign of the greedy +adventuress.” + +Grewgus replied that his evidence was too strong to admit of such a +supposition. But still what Calliard had told him imparted a fresh air +of mystery to the affair. + +“If blackmail was not her game, she must have had some other object in +view,” said the detective to Lydon when he had finished the story. “I +cannot think those meetings in Rome and Paris were the result of +accident. I should say that by some means she or her friends had +obtained information of Calliard’s movements, and she had followed him +for the purpose of insinuating herself into his good graces. She, no +doubt, read him at a glance, a weak, susceptible man, a bit thrifty +perhaps, and garrulous to a fault.” + +“You did not, of course, mention anything of Stormont or Whitehouse to +the Frenchman?” asked Lydon, who had been thinking very deeply as he +listened to the story. + +“I gave him no indication that there was anybody else concerned in my +investigations,” was Grewgus’ reply. + +“Is it possible that we have suspected Stormont wrongly, after all?” +said the young man presently, who was profoundly astonished that there +had been no blackmail. “Is it possible that he sent her and the man +Edwards on some peculiar and special business errand, and that he, and +perhaps Whitehouse, knew nothing of the double life she is leading, +this combination of business woman and adventuress?” + +But the experienced detective shook his head. “They have both been +closely watched, Mr. Lydon, except in those few particular hours when +they made off. If they were engaged on legitimate business in Paris, +with whom were they doing it? They would have called on people; people +would have called on them. She was never with anybody but Calliard and +Edwards. Edwards had not got even a second string to his bow; he was +never seen with anybody but her.” + +“What is your reading of it, then?” + +“I incline to the idea they found out they were watched, and gave up +the game in the middle, before the woman could formulate her plans for +fleecing Calliard.” + +“Have you any other theory?” + +“Only that a further mystery is developing, which we may or may not +discover. By the way, there is something I forgot to tell you. They +left, as you have learned, a day before me. I wired at once to one of +my men in London in code to find out if Zillah Mayhew had returned to +Ashstead Mansions.” + +“And the reply?” + +“She had, and also the mother. They left Paris as Mrs. and Miss +Glenthorne. They have returned to London as Mrs. and Miss Mayhew.” + +It was all very puzzling, very baffling. Lydon owned frankly he could +not see his way through the maze. + +After a pause, the detective spoke. “Now the question is, Mr. Lydon, +do you feel disposed to spend any more money?” + +“What is your advice?” asked the young man. + +“To go on,” answered the detective in a decided voice. “I am convinced +that we are only at the beginning of the mystery.” + +“So be it, then. What are the next steps?” + +“Simmons only awaits a message from me to take them. In the course of +conversation, Calliard told me he was only staying three days longer +in Paris. He is going on to Brussels, where he does a big business. +Now you have decided, I shall instruct him to follow Calliard. If +there is a further mystery, as I strongly suspect, it is round him +that it will centre. Here in London I shall keep observation upon Miss +Mayhew, and if I can possibly come across him, upon Edwards.” + +With that the interview ended. At the end of another week, Jasper +Stormont and his wife came back to the _Cecil_, bringing Gloria with +them. Lydon had a shrewd suspicion that the banker, who, according to +his daughter’s account, was a man of simple tastes and habits, was not +a little oppressed by the opulence and splendour of Effington. + + + + + CHAPTER FOURTEEN + +It was not long before Grewgus’ prophecy that they were only at the +beginning of the mystery came true. What is now about to be narrated +is gleaned from the letters sent to his chief from Brussels by +Simmons. Later on he came to England, and amplified the various +details of the whole affair. + +Monsieur Calliard went to Brussels in due course from Paris and took +up his quarters at one of the well-known hotels in that delightful +city. Simmons, obeying his chief’s telegraphed instructions, followed +him, and was always at his heels. + +On this visit the gay old Frenchman was apparently devoting himself +whole-heartedly to his business, and not indulging in any little +flutters. His habits were exceedingly regular. He devoted his +mornings, and frequently his afternoons, to visits to his various +customers. The rest of his time he spent at the hotel. No ladies, +young or middle-aged, relieved the monotony of his leisure moments. + +Needless to say that Simmons kept open a wary eye for the reappearance +of Zillah Mayhew and the man Edwards. To his surprise neither turned +up. In the meantime Grewgus was keeping a watch on the women at +Ashstead Mansions, and convinced himself, with the aid of the friendly +hall-porter, that she was in London during the whole of the time that +Léon Calliard was in Brussels. Therefore, a certain theory of his was +shattered, when he found she was staying on from day to day. + +His idea was that, having discovered she was being shadowed in Paris, +her plans had been suddenly nipped in the bud by that fact, and she +had headed for the shelter of the flat. This did not mean that she had +given up her original designs against the wealthy jeweller, only +postponed them. After a brief interval, during which she judged the +scent would have become cold, she would follow him to Brussels, and +there add him to her no doubt very numerous list of victims. It +followed from this, then, that blackmail had not been her ultimate +object. + +But it was obvious that she had some object in sticking so closely to +the Frenchman. And so far as it was possible to reason, the +instructions given by Stormont to Edwards were concerned with the +wealthy jeweller, as neither the man nor the woman had associated with +anybody else during their stay in Paris. Edwards had been seen about +with nobody except the girl who called herself Miss Glenthorne. + +For three days Simmons kept a pretty close watch on Calliard. On the +fourth he relaxed his vigilance a little, having made up his mind by +now that nothing more was to be feared from the pair of confederates. +And on this day something unusual happened. Calliard did not return to +the hotel for lunch, and he did not return for dinner. Simmons did not +attach very great importance to this; he might have gone somewhere +else for the day on business. To-morrow he would see him pursuing his +ordinary routine, without a doubt. But when the morrow came, and no +Calliard appeared in his usual haunts, Simmons became alarmed. + +That evening he went to the director of the _Palace Hotel_, with whom +he had a slight acquaintance, and who knew the nature of his +occupation, and inquired for news. He explained that, unknown to +Calliard himself, he was watching his movements in connection with a +certain couple who might have evil designs upon him. + +The director, a most voluble person, was quite ready to talk to a man +whom he knew he could trust. + +“I have known Monsieur Calliard for years, ever since I have been +connected with the _Palace Hotel_; his connection with us is a long +one and dates before the time I came here. I suppose you know that he +is a man of considerable wealth, a partner in a very flourishing firm +in Marseilles. He came here about every few months to do business with +the leading jewellers in Brussels, and he carried in that brown bag +his samples, worth some hundreds of thousands of francs. When he had +finished his rounds for the day, it was his invariable custom to +deposit that very valuable bag in our safe.” + +Simmons noticed that the director had been speaking all along in the +past tense. He had a very sure premonition of what was coming. + +“He went out as usual after breakfast to make his customary morning +calls, taking his bag with him. As I take it, you have been watching +him, probably you know that as well as I do?” + +Simmons had to admit that on this particular morning his vigilance had +been relaxed. Having made up his mind that neither of the pair he +suspected was in the vicinity, he was prepared to take it easy till +Monsieur Calliard left Brussels, when he would follow him to his next +stopping place. + +The director shrugged his shoulders: “That is most unfortunate, for +then we might know more than we do. He said especially that he would +return to luncheon--as a matter of fact he has lunched and dined here +every day during his visit--but he happened to make particular mention +of it. Luncheon time arrived, and he did not turn up. We didn’t attach +very great importance to the fact. He might have been detained, or +been invited by one of his customers. When dinner-time came and he was +again absent, I began to feel a bit uneasy. Remember he was carrying +in that bag a small fortune.” + +“Monsieur Calliard is just a little bit--what shall we say--frisky for +a man of his age, is he not?” queried Simmons. + +The director smiled: “A wee bit, perhaps. I fancy he is rather +susceptible where the other sex is concerned. On previous occasions he +has sometimes brought here to lunch and dinner some fascinating +members of it. But this time nothing of the sort happened. Not a soul +has been to see him since he first set foot in the hotel.” + +Simmons thought there might be a good reason for this. No doubt the +volatile Frenchman had received a rude shock when Grewgus told him the +real character of the young woman to whom he was so hospitable in +Paris. He had resolved to walk more warily for a little time. + +“When I came down this morning and found he was still absent, I came +to the conclusion it was time to act. I notified the police at once. I +despatched a long wire to his firm in Marseilles, acquainting them +with the suspicious circumstances. I have had one in reply.” + +“And they are, of course, very alarmed?” said Simmons. + +“Not so much as you would imagine. It is a very long wire, and in it +they suggest he may have gone to Ostend to see a certain client, and +will return in due course. But I am very doubtful of this. Monsieur +Calliard was a very methodical man, not likely to do anything on the +spur of the moment. If he had intended to pay this visit to Ostend, he +would have had it in his mind for some little time, and notified us of +his intention. Well, the affair is now in the hands of the police.” + +It was not till five days later that the dénouement came. It was +evening, and Simmons sat on the terrace of the _Café Metropole_, +sipping his _apéritif_. While doing so, he opened the _Petit Bleu_ +and read a long account of the recovery of the body of an elderly, +well-dressed man from the river Meuse, at a bend about a mile behind +the little village of Godime. The doctors declared that it had been in +the river since about the date corresponding with the disappearance of +the wealthy jeweller. + +Upon him was found a sum of about three thousand francs, and papers +which conclusively proved that he was a Monsieur Léon Calliard, +member of a well-known firm, and residing in the Rue Lenon at +Marseilles. In his pocket was found a half-obliterated letter written +in indelible pencil, stating his intention of committing suicide in +consequence of an unfortunate love affair. + +Simmons hastened round to his friend the director of the hotel, whom +he found acquainted with the news. This gentleman threw scorn upon the +suggestion of suicide. + +“Bah, my friend,” he cried excitedly, “Calliard was not that sort of +man; he was a most devout Catholic. A love affair that would drive him +off his head at his age. The idea is preposterous. He was fond of the +society of attractive women, granted, but his was not the sort of +nature capable of a great passion. I should like to see that letter, +Monsieur Simmons. I will wager it is a forgery, put there by the +assassin who killed him in order to get hold of that bag with its +valuable contents.” + +And so, later on, it was proved to be the case. When the letter was +shown to some of his intimate friends they unanimously declared it was +a clumsy imitation of Calliard’s handwriting. + +“So all along it was robbery and murder, not simply blackmail that was +intended,” said Grewgus, as he and his client sat discussing the whole +facts of the case. “Simmons, of course, committed a blunder in not +following Calliard that particular morning. He might have averted a +tragedy. On the other hand, he might not. This is the work of a very +cunning gang, and so long as Calliard had that bag in his possession, +they were determined to have it. They would not have been satisfied +with a first rebuff or a second. They would have followed him till +they got it. Depend upon it, they had their plans laid with devilish +precision. I don’t suppose we shall ever know how they got him into +their clutches.” + +“It is strange that Edwards and the woman should have so suddenly +effaced themselves,” commented Lydon. “If they had a hand in it, you +would think they would have been in at the closing act. Is it +possible, do you think, that this tragedy is simply a coincidence? +That he was done to death by people who had no connection with them?” + +Grewgus shook his head. “There is no evidence against them, certainly. +Miss Mayhew has been at Ashstead Mansions every day since she came +back from Paris, that I have ascertained. In her case she has a +perfect alibi. Of Edwards I can speak with no positiveness. Simmons +took a snapshot of him in Paris, and I have had two men scouring +London for him with no success, as we are unacquainted with his +haunts. Of course, for all we know to the contrary, he might have been +lurking in the neighbourhood of that little village of Godime. But, +all the same, I believe Miss Mayhew played a big part in this affair.” + +Lydon looked at the detective inquiringly. “I should like to know in +what way you connect her with the case,” he said. “Of course, in a +thing of this sort, I feel myself utterly helpless, so far as my +reasoning faculties are concerned.” + +Grewgus smiled. “One would hardly expect otherwise, Mr. Lydon. Up to +the present, you can have had no experience of criminal methods, which +I can assure you are very subtle. Robbery was intended from the +beginning, supplemented by murder, if that was absolutely necessary. +In this case I assume the existence of a cleverly organized gang of +international crooks, with spies everywhere. They find out that the +unfortunate Calliard, member of a wealthy firm, is accustomed to make +periodical visits to the various important capitals, carrying with him +in that small bag an immense amount of valuable property. + +“They already know a good deal, but they want to know more, be better +versed in details. They set Miss Mayhew on him, one of their cleverest +decoys. No doubt, the beginnings of the plot were hatched at +Trouville, where he first made her acquaintance and, unfortunately for +himself, was attracted by her. Their meeting was not accidental. They +knew he would be there and dispatched her to the same hotel, to find +out all she could, to make herself acquainted with his movements, to +insinuate herself into his confidence. + +“She found him very easy to deal with. Calliard no doubt was a good +business man in many ways, or he would not have been entrusted with +such important missions, but for one of his age he struck me as +singularly simple. And he was garrulous and communicative in the +extreme. He blurted out a lot of things to me which he would have +shown wisdom in keeping to himself. He took me on trust, as it were, +on my production of a card stating my name and profession. That card +might easily have been prepared for the purpose. I give this as an +illustration of his simplicity, of his tendency to take things at +their face value. A clever woman would twist him round her little +finger, easily get out of him what she wanted to know. Neither in Rome +nor Trouville did they find things fall out quite in accordance with +their plans. It was not till they got him to Paris that they were able +to set to work in grim earnest, with the result we know.” + +“None of the jewellery has been traced, I suppose?” + +“Not that I have heard of,” was the detective’s answer. “They had +their plans cut and dried, you may depend. A few hours after they had +got hold of the stuff you can be sure the valuable stones were out of +their settings and on the way to a safe market.” + +After a little while, Lydon spoke. “You have reconstructed the whole +thing very cleverly, and in my own mind I feel you are right. But we +have really no tangible evidence against Stormont, have we?” + +Grewgus shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing that would convince a jury, I +fear. It is all intensely circumstantial. Still, that letter of his to +Zillah which you intercepted is a very important link. Would you like +me to go to Scotland Yard and put them in possession of all we know, +so that they could join forces with the Paris police?” + +But Leonard could not bring himself to consent to this step. The +thought of his beloved Gloria, of her father, a man of the highest +probity and honour, forbade it. Much as he would have rejoiced, for +his dead friend’s sake, that Elise Makris should be punished, he +shrank from bringing disgrace upon Howard Stormont’s innocent +relatives. + +It was finally arranged between the two men that Grewgus should still +keep a watch upon the flat in Ashstead Mansions, and note the further +movements of Whitehouse and his supposed niece. It was evident that +this taciturn individual had taken no active part in the Calliard +affair, was not even so much implicated in it as Stormont appeared to +be by that letter to his “clever Zillah.” But Grewgus had a very +strong suspicion that the couple worked very closely together. + +They did find something out about Whitehouse a little later on which +added to the general mystery. Hornby Court did not absorb the whole of +his activities. He had a small set of offices near Bedford Row, where +he attended three days a week. His staff consisted of a senior and +junior clerk, and he practised as a solicitor under the name of +Glenthorne. So far they had not been able to discover what sort of a +business it was, or what class of clients patronized him. It certainly +had not the air of a particularly flourishing concern. + +From the _Cecil Hotel_, the Jasper Stormonts, accompanied by Gloria, +soon moved further afield. It had been cordially acquiesced in by +Howard Stormont that during their stay in England they should have +their daughter to themselves. For his own part, Jasper would have +liked to make a tour in Scotland, but he was a very unselfish man, and +he could not bear the idea of parting the two young people. He felt +that he had come too little into the girl’s life to permit him to +think only of himself. He therefore chose Brighton; it was so easy for +Lydon to run down and return by a fast train. + +Although a man rather inclined to frugality than extravagance, Leonard +was surprised to find that he had elected to stay at one of the most +expensive hotels in the place. And not content with the public +apartments, he had taken a private sitting-room. He explained matters +to his future son-in-law with his usual kindly smile. + +“You must not think, my dear boy, I am trying to rival my spendthrift +brother. The simple truth is this. At home I conduct my affairs in a +very steady and prudent manner. But when I take a holiday, I like to +do things well and have every comfort. A thoroughly economical holiday +is worse than none.” + +They intended to stay at Brighton till it was time to return to China, +and Lydon was very pleased with the arrangement. All that he had +learned recently had made Effington exceedingly distasteful to him. As +for Howard Stormont, he could hardly bear to shake hands with him, in +view of his grave suspicions. + +It was about three weeks after the interview between himself and +Grewgus that he received an important message from the detective to +come round to his office at the earliest moment, as he had the most +surprising news to communicate. He did not want to blurt them out over +the telephone. + +Lydon was round as soon as possible, and found the detective looking +quite excited for a man of his usually calm temperament. + +“You will be as surprised as I was, I expect,” he said as soon as his +client was seated. “Our friend Miss Makris, alias Mayhew, alias +Glenthorne, has left Ashstead Mansions. She has taken one of the +smaller houses in Curzon Street, has furnished it splendidly in a few +days, and is living there under the name of Mrs. Edwards with her +husband, the good-looking fellow who was over in Paris when she was +playing her game with poor old Calliard. The mother is not with them. +I should say they are after something very big this time.” + +And as Grewgus spoke, there flashed across the young man’s mind what +Jasper Stormont had told him a little while ago. His brother was +looking forward to a great _coup_ which might enable him to give up +business altogether. Was the owner of Effington at the back of this +sudden metamorphosis of the “clever Zillah” into Mrs. Edwards, the +tenant of the house in Curzon Street? + + + + + CHAPTER FIFTEEN + +About a fortnight later, Lydon had the news confirmed from another +quarter. Gloria received a letter from her uncle, in which was the +following paragraph: “I have got some news for you. Zillah Mayhew is +married to a very charming young man, named Edwards. She has been a +very sly little puss about it all. It appears from a somewhat belated +confession to her uncle, my dear old friend John Whitehouse, they have +known each other for some four or five years. They met again during +her recent visit to Paris and were married there. Edwards is a man +possessed of considerable means and moves in good society. They kept +the marriage secret for a little time on account of family reasons +connected with the husband. I am very glad that Zillah has done so +well.” + +The letter then proceeded to state other things, some of which Lydon, +to whom his sweetheart read the epistle, had already heard from +Grewgus. The married couple had taken and furnished a house in Curzon +Street, where Zillah proposed to entertain. Zillah had led a retired +life when in England, did not know many people. But her husband had +heaps of friends and acquaintances, and would soon fill the house. +They proposed to give a big reception shortly. Stormont and his sister +would attend it. And Zillah insisted that Gloria, her father and +mother, and her fiancé should be her guests on such a special +occasion. + +Innocent Gloria read out all this to her fiancé, and the young man +made certain inward comments as she went along. It was very unlikely +the couple had been married on Zillah’s last visit to Paris. Grewgus +had been watching the woman, Simmons the man till the eve of their +disappearance. If there had been any marriage ceremony, they would +have known of it. If they were husband and wife, they had been married +long ere now, and had lived apart, the better to pursue their +nefarious ends. + +Gloria, woman-like, was interested in what appeared to be a real +romance. “I am so glad,” she said enthusiastically. “Zillah is such a +delightful, charming girl, she deserves a good husband. I am surprised +that she has not been married long before this. Uncle Howard speaks +well of him, doesn’t he? And I think he is a very shrewd judge of +character. We must certainly go to that party to see for ourselves. +You agree, I am sure.” + +Yes, Lydon certainly agreed. Of course, he could not as yet give a +hint to the unsuspecting girl of his reasons. He would dearly like to +observe the adventuress and Edwards at close quarters. + +In London the next day, he found time to run round to Grewgus and +inform him of what Howard Stormont had written. + +“Well, you will keep your eyes open when you are there,” said the +detective. “I wish you could take me with you, but that, I suppose, is +impossible. I’m a master of disguise, you know; I could go as +something quite different from Grewgus. I might spot something that +would escape you. I am very curious as to the game they have got on; +it must be something big, or else they wouldn’t go to this +considerable expense. Of course, that account of the recent marriage +in Paris is all bunkum.” + +Lydon would dearly have liked to take the detective with him as an old +friend, to obtain a card for him through Stormont. But he saw it was +too risky. Stormont was a man of diabolical ingenuity and cunning. He +would smell a rat at once. Later on, he might be able to work him into +the Curzon Street ménage. + +“By the way, I have never shown you the snapshot of Edwards that +Simmons took in Paris, have I?” asked the detective presently. + +He opened a drawer in his writing-table, extracted a photograph and +handed it to his client. Lydon gave a cry of astonishment as he looked +at it. “Well, of all the strange things that have ever happened! This +man is a member of my own club, the Excelsior.” + +“What do you know about him?” asked Grewgus in an excited voice. + +“Well, almost next to nothing. The Excelsior is a big club, as you +know, and there are dozens of different sets. He mixes rather amongst +the fast lot. I have heard that he is a man of good family, a public +school and Cambridge man, and has considerable private means.” + +“Do you know him to speak to?” asked Grewgus eagerly. + +“I may have exchanged a dozen words with him since I have belonged to +the club. We both joined it about the same time, three years ago. I +should rather say I knew him to nod to.” + +“I think we might classify him as a typical specimen of the +aristocratic crook,” remarked Grewgus. “Well-born, well-educated, +gifted with brains of the wrong sort, who has taken to evil courses +either from natural inclination, or because he dislikes honest work. +Well, Mr. Lydon, this is very interesting and I may say very +fortunate. To think we have been scouring London for him, and not hit +upon the Excelsior Club. You must certainly go to that party, take +diligent notes, and report to me what you have observed.” + +In due course, formal cards arrived for the big reception, an +afternoon one from four to seven, to the Jasper Stormonts, Gloria and +Lydon. The banker and his wife sent their excuses. They were a +stay-at-home couple and had no desire to rub shoulders with a lot of +strangers who knew nothing about them and about whom they knew +nothing. + +“Except Gloria and yourself, and my brother and sister, there would +not be a soul we knew,” said Gloria’s father. “The hostess is a most +delightful young woman, my daughter tells me; but she will be much too +busy to pay any attention to a couple of old fogies like ourselves. Of +course, Howard will be in his element amongst a crowd; in a lesser +degree, it is possible my sister will also be happy. I and my wife +will remain here while you young people are disporting yourselves in +society.” + +Howard Stormont had written to say that Gloria had better spend the +rest of the day with them, driving down to Effington after the +reception was over. If Lydon wished, he could drive down with them, +have dinner and stay the night. But the young man got out of this. He +would meet Gloria in London and take her back to Brighton the day +after instead. He wished to be in Howard Stormont’s company as little +as possible. + +The day after he had received the card, he strolled into the club of +which both he and Edwards were members. It was a big establishment, +situated in Piccadilly, and had a large clientèle--stockbrokers, +barristers, a few actors, artists and authors, and several wealthy +business men. Almost the first person he saw was an elderly barrister +named Joyce, a member of the committee, who had recently retired from +practice. This gentleman was a very gregarious person, a great gossip, +and supposed to know more about the private history of his +fellow-members than anybody else in the club. To Mr. Joyce he at once +addressed himself: + +“I’ve had a card for a big reception from Mrs. Edwards, the wife of +our member. Although a common name, he is the only Edwards in the +club. I don’t think I owe it to him, for we are hardly on more than +nodding terms, but his wife is a great friend of a man I know, +Stormont, to whose niece I am engaged. Of course, they were bound to +ask my fiancée, and they have very kindly included me.” + +The elderly barrister rose to the bait at once. He was quite ready to +talk about Edwards; he was always ready to talk about anybody with +whom he was acquainted. “I have had a card too; going to be a rather +big thing, I am told. About half a dozen of us here have been asked. +Edwards doesn’t mix very freely with the members, rather keeps himself +to himself. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t come here very often, +travels abroad a lot.” + +“No, I haven’t often met him,” said Lydon in a careless tone. “Who is +he, and what is he? I suppose you know?” + +Mr. Joyce smiled; he was very proud of his general knowledge, which he +acquired by his assiduous attendance at the club. + +“I know as much as anybody else, I think, but there doesn’t seem very +much to know about him. He talks very little about himself. He is a +Cambridge man, comes, I believe, of a good old Sussex family, follows +no profession or occupation, has private means.” + +The information was decidedly meagre; but it was certain that if this +was all Mr. Joyce knew, nobody knew any more. + +“Rather a surprise this marriage, isn’t it?” asked Lydon after a +pause. “I learn from Stormont that they were married a very short time +ago abroad, I think he said in Paris.” + +“Quite right,” confirmed the barrister. “We knew nothing about it here +till quite lately. But you see that is not to be wondered at. Nobody +of the half-dozen who have received invitations is more than just a +club acquaintance. I suppose they really want to fill the rooms. He +rushed in here about a week ago, told me what you know, that he was +recently married, had taken a house in Curzon Street, and they were +going to hold a reception, sort of house warming. He was going to send +cards to a few of the members. Would I pass on to them what he had +told me, as he might not be in the club again before the party came +off?” + +After lunch, Lydon took a taxi down to Craven Street, and imparted to +Grewgus the result of his interview with Joyce, both men agreeing that +what he had learned from that gentleman was practically no more than +what they knew already. + +The party was a week hence. Grewgus was still very bent upon going, +but he recognized the impossibility of getting there. + +“If I could get a chance, I would go as a waiter,” he said. “Well, +it’s no use thinking about it. You say that you will be leaving about +seven. I’ll be hanging about outside from half-past six--there’s sure +to be the usual staring crowds outside. If you’ve nothing better to +do, look out for me and follow me. When we are well out of view, we +can go into some place and you can tell me anything that you think may +be useful to us.” + +On the day appointed, Leonard went to Curzon Street. His afternoon had +been a pretty busy one, and he did not arrive there till close upon +six. The rooms were quite full and it was a little time before he met +his hostess, who had abandoned her position at the door some time ago. +She greeted him cordially, and after a few words with her he passed +on. + +Presently he found the Stormont party. The portly Howard was looking +very happy and radiant. “A thorough success,” he whispered to the +young man. “Zillah’s a born hostess and seems immensely admired. Most +of the people here are the husband’s friends; she has been so seldom +in London that she doesn’t know many people yet. But it won’t be long +before she does. I’m delighted it is going off so well. I’m very fond +of Zillah; she’s such a sweet girl.” + +Lydon thought grimly that the unfortunate Calliard had said the same +thing. He inquired if Mr. Whitehouse was there. + +“No,” was the answer. “He was awfully disappointed he could not be +here to witness her triumph. But he was prevented by important +business. I believe he is dining with them after the show.” + +The mother was not there. Well, her parents were supposed to be dead +and the uncle was absent. No doubt, Mrs. Edwards had her own good +reasons for not having her own family round her. Casually he said to +Stormont: “I’ve just caught a glimpse of Edwards; he hasn’t seen me +yet. Do you know he’s a member of my club, the Excelsior?” + +Was it fancy, or did he detect a rather shifty look in Stormont’s eyes +as he replied to him? “Yes, he told me when I first mentioned your +name. What a small place the world is, eh?” + +“It came as a surprise to you all, Gloria told me. Did you or her +uncle know anything of Edwards before she married him?” + +“Never set eyes on him,” came the prompt answer. “Zillah has been a +very sly little puss over it; they seem to have met abroad first. But +he’s a delightful fellow with lots of money. There’s no doubt she has +done wonderfully well for herself. And he knows heaps of good people. +As you know, I don’t go about in London, but this seems to me +decidedly a smart party.” + +Lydon was intensely disgusted with the hypocrisy of the man, his +effrontery in denying any previous knowledge of the man whom he had +sent to Paris with his instructions to his “clever Zillah.” But he +quite agreed with his last remarks, it certainly was a smart +gathering, with so many beautifully gowned women and immaculately +dressed men. The Excelsior Club, he noticed, had sent up its +contingent to a man. Mr. Joyce was ubiquitous, and seemed to know a +great many of the guests. Leonard was sure that the host had a footing +in one world. He seemed to have an equally sure position in a more +reputable one. + +“He knows people in every walk of life--artists, authors, +fashionables,” went on the garrulous Stormont, who seemed in the very +highest of spirits. “He belongs to half a dozen clubs, from the quite +exclusive to the frankly Bohemian.” + +Gloria had been annexed by a very dandified young man. Mrs. Barnard +was engaged with an elderly person of the well-preserved type. There +came a sudden hush, a well-known professional was going to sing. Lydon +left his companion and made a tour of the rooms. + +When he stopped, he found himself standing next to Edwards, who gave +him a cordial nod and a whispered: “Will speak to you presently.” + +The song was finished and his host turned to Lydon. “Very pleased to +see you here. I little thought when we used to meet occasionally at +the club that we should become so closely connected, as it were. +Stormont has known Zillah from a child; he is a sort of adopted uncle. +Delightful fellow, Stormont, so genial, so unaffected.” + +“Quite,” said Lydon, in a tone the reverse of enthusiastic. Not +greatly relishing the prospect of a prolonged conversation with +Edwards, he was about to move when his host stopped him. + +“Do you see that young man talking to my wife, over there by the door? +You know who he is, don’t you?” + +Lydon looked in the direction indicated. Zillah Edwards was conversing +with a handsome, elegant young fellow of about twenty-five. There was +something distinguished and aristocratic about his appearance, and +Leonard fancied that the face was familiar to him, but he could not +recall where or under what circumstances he had seen it. + +“That is Lord Wraysbury, the eldest son of the Earl of Feltham, one of +the oldest families in England,” whispered Edwards in an impressive +voice; and guided by this information, the young man knew why the face +was familiar to him. He had seen the portrait of the young fellow in +some of the society papers. + +“He often comes here,” went on the host. “You know all about his +history, I suppose?” + +“Very little,” was the cold answer. “My acquaintance with the great +world is negligible, I am sorry to say.” + +“It is quite a romance,” continued the other, who did not seem to have +noticed the coldness of his companion’s manner. “His father, as I +said, can boast of representing one of the oldest families in England, +but he is not rich. The estates are in Suffolk, and I am told don’t +produce much more than twenty thousand a year; that is not much for a +nobleman in his position, you know, and he has a large family.” + +“I suppose not,” assented Lydon, who was not particularly interested +in this good-looking young aristocrat. + +“Well, thanks to an extraordinary bit of luck, Wraysbury is very rich, +one of the richest young men in London. He owes it to his aunt, a very +beautiful woman. She married twice. The first match was a fairly good +one, but nothing out of the common. She was left a widow when she was +just nearing thirty. Her second husband was an enormously rich +American who had settled in England, a multi-millionaire. He died soon +too, five years after their marriage. The bulk of his fortune was left +to his children by a first wife; but his widow, Wraysbury’s aunt, got +a comfortable two million left to her to dispose of as she liked. + +“She was devoted to Wraysbury. Never having had a child by either of +her husbands, she looked upon him as a son. She died two years ago and +left him every penny, with the exception of a few insignificant +legacies.” + +“A very fortunate young man,” commented Lydon, interested in spite of +himself by the romantic story. “And what sort of a chap is he? Is he +taking care of his money, or making ducks and drakes of it?” + +“He is a most delightful fellow in himself. With regard to your +question, he spends a lot, of course. He has the handling of a very +big income, but I should say he has a fairly good head upon his +shoulders and knows how to manage his affairs.” + +“Is he your friend, or your wife’s?” asked Lydon bluntly, hastening to +add, “I mean of course in the first instance.” + +“Oh, Zillah’s,” was the answer. “They knew each other abroad before he +came into his aunt’s money. The acquaintance dropped till quite +lately. We were dining one night at the _Ritz_ and met him in the +lounge as we were going in. She introduced me and of course gave him +an invitation to Curzon Street. He has dined with us twice and called +several times. I like him immensely; he is a dear chap.” + +Lydon stayed for another half-hour and noticed that Lord Wraysbury was +never for long away from the side of his hostess. He did not appear to +know more than a couple of people in the room and Leonard had a +suspicion that they had been introduced by Zillah. It was a smart +party certainly; but although he knew little of fashionable or +semi-fashionable society, he did not think it was quite up to the +standard of a young man of such aristocratic lineage. + +He managed to obtain a few words with Gloria. “Are you enjoying +yourself, my sweetheart?” he whispered. + +“Oh, in a way, it is rather novel,” she replied. “But I don’t think I +should care for too much of this sort of thing. Zillah has been quite +kind, introduced me and aunt to a lot of people. Uncle Howard is +enjoying himself immensely. I have not seen him look more beaming at +one of his own dinner-parties. But I’m afraid I haven’t his +temperament. I’m not fond of strange crowds.” + +Soon the party began to break up; only a few determined stayers were +left behind. Stormont collected his women-folk and they bade adieu to +their host and hostess. Lydon took his departure with them. As he +shook hands with Zillah, he observed that the good-looking Wraysbury +was still in close attendance. + +Stormont’s car was waiting. As they went out, Lydon saw Grewgus +standing amidst the small crowd that had gathered to watch the +departing guests, and made a hasty signal to which the detective +answered with a slight movement of his head. + +What was the young man’s astonishment to see amongst the waiting crowd +the weather-beaten face of Tom Newcombe, and a hasty glance at him +revealed the fact that, if not actually drunk, he was certainly not +strictly sober. As soon as he caught sight of his “old pal” he rushed +forward and shouted out what he intended to be a welcome, in a husky +voice. + +Howard Stormont’s face went white when he saw him. “Get out of the +way, you drunken dog,” he said in a low voice, full of fury. “Never +dare to accost me again when you are in this state.” + +The Colonial, no longer shabby-looking, but dressed in very loud +attire which he doubtless considered to be the height of fashion, +slunk away, his face working, and muttering, “Drunken dog! Drunken +dog!” + +Stormont pushed the women into the car and it drove off, the occupants +waving a farewell to Leonard as he stood on the kerb. + +When he turned round to look for Grewgus, that gentleman had gone. He +saw him a few yards off, stealthily tracking the Colonial. + +He knew by this action that the ever-vigilant man had overheard what +had passed and was on a fresh scent. It was no use waiting for him. + + + + + CHAPTER SIXTEEN + +It was not long before the quarry came to a halt at a public-house +in a side street off Piccadilly. When he reached this hostelry, his +intense indignation had exercised a remarkably sobering effect upon +him, his gait was quite steady, and when he asked the barmaid for +refreshment his voice had recovered its normal tones. + +Grewgus had followed him in. After a little while, Newcombe went and +sat down in front of one of the tables. After a decent interval the +detective followed him and opened up conversation by some remark about +the weather. Mr. Newcombe made a somewhat gloomy response; it was +evident his mind was still full of the epithet which Stormont had +hurled at him as he hurried into the car. + +As Grewgus saw that he was not disposed for general conversation, he +thought he would try him on something that would interest him. He +judged him not to be too well blessed with the world’s goods, in spite +of his loud but evidently cheap apparel; he thought, therefore, he +would start on a democratic note. + +“Awful lot of money these nobs do waste on themselves. When you walk +down these parts, the luxury that meets you on every hand makes you +fairly sick, it does. Many a poor bloke has got to keep his wife and +family for a week on what they spend on one meal.” + +He was a very good actor, and he put on a ripe Cockney accent for the +benefit of his companion. He did not want to be taken for a man of too +superior class, or else he might easily excite suspicion. + +Mr. Newcombe grunted assent to these propositions, and drained his +tumbler. Grewgus put on a genial smile and did the same. + +“They give you precious little stuff for the money in these days,” he +remarked in the same dissatisfied tone. “I feel a bit fed up to-day +with thinking of all these things; I always feel that way when I see +much of this quarter of the town. I’m going to have another; I should +be rather glad if you’d have one with me.” + +Mr. Newcombe hesitated for a second, then accepted. Grewgus had judged +his condition pretty accurately. He had had too much when he stood +outside the house in Curzon Street; the abuse hurled at him by +Stormont, and the indignation it created, had momentarily sobered him. +But another glass or two would stir up the old drink and reduce him to +his previous condition. When he got back to that he would be disposed +to talk. The second tumbler accomplished the desired result. The +detective saw he could now get to work. + +“I’ve just strolled down from Curzon Street, and it was the sight of a +big party going on at one of the houses that set me thinking. +Motor-cars galore waiting for the beautiful ladies with frocks that +cost a small fortune, men coming out with their expensive suits. It +gave me the hump, it did, so I cut it and dropped into the first +public I could come across.” + +Newcombe looked at him with a perfectly unsuspicious eye. “Was you +there too? So was I. Did you happen to see me?” + +“No,” answered the detective unblushingly, feeling that he was lying +in a good cause. “Rather rum that when you come to think of it, isn’t +it? That we should be looking at the same thing, and then meeting a +few minutes after in this place, I suppose for the same reason, that +we both felt a trifle dry. I say, we’d better have another. I always +feel reckless when I’m a bit fed up.” + +The Colonial accepted the hospitality for the second time. Grewgus +went to the counter to get the drinks; he did not wish the Colonial to +entertain any doubts of his own sobriety, which was fast tottering +under the last glass. + +When he returned, Mr. Newcombe began to give vent to some of the +thoughts that were harrowing his indignant soul. + +“It isn’t often I come in these parts--I live King’s Cross way. But it +being a fine day, I thought I’d just take a stroll up here, and have a +look at the nobs. Well, I wandered about a lot, then I sat down in the +Park, and afterwards I got into that street where you were. I forget +what you said the name of it was.” + +Grewgus supplied the necessary information, and the Colonial rambled +on, in a voice that grew thicker as he proceeded. + +“Well, presently I come to that house where the show was. I stood +looking at the motor-cars and the dainty ladies stepping into them. +Suddenly I see come out a man I have known for years, with his sister +and niece. He was a pal of mine in Australia when we were both young +men. Many a good turn I done him, once I nursed him back to life +through a bad fever. Well, remembering the good old days, I go up to +him in a cheery sort of way. And what do you think I get in return?” + +“Haven’t the slightest idea,” replied the mendacious Grewgus. + +“He called me a drunken dog, a drunken dog, and dared me to speak to +him in the street or anywhere else. What do you say to that?” + +Grewgus shrugged his shoulders and spoke in a withering voice: “A rich +man, of course, got on in the world. Well, I should say it was just +what he would do, like the snob he is. I suppose he wouldn’t chuck you +a shilling if you were starving.” + +It was evident, in spite of his resentment, that Newcombe could not +tell an absolute lie. “I won’t say he hasn’t given me a bit, but +there’s a reason for it, a reason for it.” + +“A reason for it,” repeated the detective. “I expect a pretty good one +too?” Was he going to get something out of this sot? + +Mr. Newcombe went on muttering to himself: “I could make him smart, if +I chose to, the ungrateful dog. He to lord it with his flunkeys and +his fine motor-car while I live on a pittance.” + +“You know something about this fine gentleman who calls you a drunken +dog?” insinuated the detective, repeating the offensive epithet with +the view of keeping the man’s resentment at white heat. + +Perhaps Grewgus had overdone it. Something seemed to stir in the +drink-soddened brain, and told him he had gone too far. The Colonial +seemed to pull himself together. + +“That’s neither here nor there,” he said in a surly tone. Then he +harked back in his maudlin state to his original grievance. “A drunken +dog indeed, from him who for years never drew a sober breath! Tell me, +mister, did I look drunk? But I forget, you said you didn’t see me. Am +I drunk now?” + +Grewgus knew that the moment had gone. He would get nothing out of +this creature now. There was no need for him to dissemble any longer. +“If you ask my candid opinion, I think you have had too much. The last +glass has knocked you over. I am not sure you can stand properly. Have +a try.” + +Mr. Newcombe did as he was told, but the effort was not successful. He +got up for an instant, but relapsed promptly into his seat. Grewgus +found himself confronted with an awkward situation. He did not for a +moment regret his hastily conceived pursuit of Newcombe; he had come +within an ace of accomplishing his object. It was by the merest bad +luck, at the last moment, some sudden flickering of intelligence had +caused the inebriated man to exercise discretion. + +All the same, he found himself saddled with a companion, drunk to the +point of incapacity, and unable to look after himself. + +Grewgus made up his mind at once; it was necessary to do so, since +Newcombe showed signs of sinking into slumber. + +“Look here,” he whispered into the man’s ear as loud as he dared. “If +you don’t want to be locked up for the night, I shall have to get you +home. Tell me quickly where you live.” + +In a thick voice, the incapacitated Colonial muttered the name of a +mean street in the King’s Cross district. Grewgus knew the place well, +and, as was his custom, drew a rapid inference. Either Stormont was +allowing him a very small pittance, or else Newcombe was averse to +heavy standing charges as they would curtail his opportunities of +purchasing his beloved alcohol. + +A very decent young man had come into the bar, whom the detective +judged, by his appearance, to be of the Good Samaritan sort, disposed +to help in a case of trouble. Propping the almost comatose man well +against the table, he went up to this individual and besought his +assistance. + +“My friend has been overcome, been taking too much before I met him, I +expect,” was his explanation. “I want to get him away without fuss, if +I can. If you would kindly call a taxi, and come back here and lend a +helping hand, I am sure I can manage it. I doubt if he can walk very +well, but between us we can manage to shove him along and get him in +the taxi.” + +The decent-looking young man responded nobly to the appeal. In a very +short time, Mr. Newcombe, still half asleep and almost deprived of the +powers of motion, was being borne in the direction of King’s Cross. + +About half-way on the journey, he made one of those remarkable +recoveries which are frequently to be observed in the devotees of +alcohol. He was still far from sober, but his partial slumber, and the +rather keen fresh air blowing through the open taxi-windows on his +inflamed face, had cleared his faculties to a certain extent. He was +able to appreciate and thank the detective for what he had done. + +“The act of a pal, that’s what it is,” he hiccoughed. “If ever your +turn comes and I’m there, I’ll do the same with you. If you had +sneaked out and left me, I should have been run in as safe as eggs.” +His mind suddenly reverted to the events of a short time ago. “By +gosh, if it had been that fellow with the flunkeys and the fine car, +he’d have left me in the lurch. I say, mister, I don’t know your name, +perhaps I was a bit gone; he bawled at me that I was a drunken dog.” + +There was something very comical in his almost abject aspect as he put +this question. Grewgus could hardly keep from laughing. + +“I should say more than likely, my friend. You strike me as one of +those chaps who can get drunk and sober again three or four times in a +day. We shall be there in a very few minutes. I expect you will find +yourself able to walk without assistance when we get out.” + +And so it proved. When the taxi drew up before the shabby-looking +house in one of the meanest streets in the locality, Mr. Newcombe was +able to comport himself with a certain amount of steadiness. He +apologized for not being able to ask his companion up, as he occupied +one apartment at the top of the house, and there was, alas! no +refreshment to offer a guest when he got there. + +“I’ve sense enough not to keep it in the house,” he said with a +cunning smile. “Having to go out for it does put a bit of a stopper on +me. You see, I know my weakness. But I tell you what--I want to prove +to you that I look upon you as a pal, one of the right sort. If you’ll +make an appointment to meet me to-morrow, not perhaps at the same +place, we’ll have a return match.” + +Grewgus thanked him and hastily explained that he would not be in +London on the morrow, nor for some little time after. Then, having +seen his companion put his key in the door, and enter the +unprepossessing premises, he went on his way. With his usual +methodical habit, he posted in his note-book Mr. Newcombe’s address, +in case he should require it in the future. + +Early the next morning he rang up Lydon while the young man was at +breakfast. + +“A thousand apologies for running away from you yesterday. But after +that little scene with Stormont, I thought I ought not to let the +chance slip. Got nothing out of it though, will tell you all when I +see you. I want very much to know what you have to report to me. Shall +I come to you, or vice versa?” + +“I’d rather come to you,” was Lydon’s answer. “We shall be less liable +to interruption in your place.” + +The young man went round to him after lunch. Grewgus related how he +had nearly brought the Colonial to the blabbing point, and how the man +had suddenly shrunk back into his shell. On his side Lydon gave a full +account of the reception in Curzon Street, omitting no detail. + +“There is no doubt what the game is,” said the detective when his +companion had finished. “They have evidently got this young chap into +their clutches, and they mean to bleed him to the utmost.” + +“Do you think these elaborate preparations, the taking of the house in +Curzon Street, this purchase of expensive furniture, etcetera, are a +part of the plot?” + +“Undoubtedly. I have heard a good deal of this young Wraysbury from +one source and another. I should say he’s rather a silly sort of chap, +intoxicated with his good fortune, and an easy pigeon to be plucked. I +am told he has a lot of hangers-on who are thriving on his bounty, +regular parasites and leeches. On the quiet, he goes in for the +theatrical business, has put money in one or two shows, and I need +hardly say lost what he put in.” + +“Edwards, who seems immensely proud of the acquaintance, spoke in very +warm terms of him, says he is a delightful fellow in himself, very +generous, but by no means a fool.” + +Grewgus laughed derisively. “Of course, that is just what a man of +that stamp would say of somebody he had designs on, make him out +cleverer than himself. No, I think my version is the true one. I don’t +say that the young man is vicious or anything of that sort, but he is +pleasure-loving, gambles pretty heavily, and of course goes racing.” + +“He is evidently very thick with the woman. He was sitting in her +pocket all the afternoon.” + +“Ah! I understand he has a great _penchant_ for female society, and +that he is far from discriminating in his choice of fair companions. I +believe his parents live in terror that he will one fine day make some +actress or dancer Lady Wraysbury. Probably you don’t know anything +about the Felthams; in my line I get a lot of information about +people. They are a very pious, straight-living couple. The old man is +a pillar of the Established Church, his wife is equally devout. At +their London house in Eaton Place she is surrounded with parsons. His +youthful lordship has certainly not taken after his parents.” + +“And I suppose they would be shocked beyond expression if they knew he +was hanging about a married woman?” + +“Go off their heads, I should think,” was the detective’s reply. “But +they are not likely to hear of it. They live in a very narrow set, to +whom such doings don’t penetrate. They won’t know unless some scandal +arises suddenly out of it.” + +Presently Lydon suggested that, in view of what they knew about Mrs. +Edwards, otherwise Elise Makris, Wraysbury ought to be warned. How +could it be done? + +Grewgus looked doubtful. “You see, the difficulty is that we have no +evidence of her having previously blackmailed anybody. Your friend, +Mr. Craig, was very vague on the point, you say. Of course, I don’t +suppose they would dare to take any action if we did such a thing, +wouldn’t court having their past ripped up. But if this young ass is +infatuated--and it looks very like it--he wouldn’t believe much +stronger evidence than it is in our power to produce.” + +“But you have no doubt of the character of all these people yourself?” +asked Lydon, who did not perhaps quite realize the habitual caution of +a man who followed Grewgus’ profession. + +“In my own mind, certainly not. But what we do know is of such a +purely circumstantial kind that we should have great difficulty in +getting the average person to agree with us. One can feel a thing +without being able to prove it.” + +“It seems to me that we have come to a deadlock,” said Lydon in a tone +of disappointment. + +Grewgus reluctantly admitted that it looked like it. He added more +cheerfully that something might turn up at any moment. The French +police were still pursuing their inquiries into the mystery of +Calliard’s death, and they might still be able to connect Edwards, if +not Zillah Mayhew, with that tragedy. Then there would be something to +go on of a tangible nature. + +It was some few days after that Grewgus sought another meeting with +his client. Perhaps in their last interview he had sensed a certain +dissatisfaction on Lydon’s part at the slow progress of affairs. + +“I have been thinking a good deal over that fellow Newcombe,” he said. +“I have not the slightest doubt he could tell us something about +Stormont that would make a certainty of what now is not more than a +very strong conjecture. I wonder whether you would care to bribe him. +There is no doubt that at the moment he is very incensed with +Stormont; those bitter words, although he has half a notion they were +deserved, will rankle for a long time. Also I doubt if Stormont pays +him much to hold his tongue. Now would be the time to strike while the +iron is hot, so to speak. Of course, the drawback is that you will +have to put down more money, in addition to the expenses you have +already incurred, as it were, for no practical result.” + +Lydon thought a little. “I would give a great deal to have the thing +settled,” he said presently. “To find out something which would +definitely justify our suspicions, our almost positive suspicions, of +Stormont. As you have pointed out, we cannot prove that Calliard was +done to death at his instigation, but we have little doubt of it in +our own minds. We cannot actually prove that this Curzon Street couple +are out to fleece this simple young Wraysbury, but we are sure of it; +and Stormont, perhaps also Whitehouse, is at the bottom of that. What +sort of a sum do you think would be required?” + +“I should say five hundred at once would be a big temptation to a +fellow of that sort.” + +Lydon rose. “Then set about it at once. I will go to that. If +necessary, a bit more. Anything to get rid of this state of suspense.” + +It was five days since Grewgus had escorted Newcombe home to his mean +little lodging. He had received Lydon’s permission to embark on his +new scheme shortly after the luncheon hour, their usual time for +meeting. Directly after his client had left, he went up to King’s +Cross. + +The door was opened by a slatternly woman of middle age, whose +appearance was in keeping with the house. She was the landlady. + +To his inquiry as to whether Mr. Newcombe was in, she replied in the +voluble and indirect manner of her class. + +“You’re the gent as brought him home in a taxi a few days ago, ain’t +you, when he’d had a drop too much? I saw you through the door when he +let himself in, and I never forgets a face. Yes, he’s in right enough, +but nobody can see him. He’s that bad, we don’t know whether he’ll +pull through yet. The doctor ain’t sure.” + +“What’s the matter with him?” + +“The doctor says the symptoms are those of a man who has been +poisoned, whether by bad food he can’t say.” + +“When did the attack commence?” + +“Two days after you brought him home. On the next day somebody called +for him, dressed like a toff, a very genial, red-faced man. Said he +was an old friend and he went upstairs. They were in Newcombe’s room +for over an hour, and then they went out together.” + +“Do you know where they went to?” + +“I’m coming to that in a minute, mister. I didn’t see him again that +day; he came back about ten o’clock and went up to his room. The next +morning he had his breakfast in my kitchen as usual; he always told me +he was poor now, but had seen better days. Said he had been to dine +last evening with an old friend of his who had known him in his +prosperous times, and had been given the best dinner he had ever had +in his life. He didn’t come to tea, and I went upstairs to tell him it +was ready; he was a nice, pleasant feller, very free with his money, +when he had it, and always grateful for any little kindness or +attention. He was sitting huddled up in his chair, and couldn’t speak. +I sent for the doctor at once, for I was sure he had some money. We +put him to bed, and there he’s been ever since. He’s still +unconscious. I and my daughter look after him.” + +Grewgus pulled out his ever-ready note book. “I should like the +address of that doctor, please, in case I want to see him. Your lodger +was once a friend of mine, and I’ve only lately learned he is down on +his luck. I called to-day to propose something for his benefit; I will +come again to-morrow or next day. Many thanks, sorry to have taken up +your time; you must be a busy woman.” + +He slipped a pound note into her hand, and went straight to Lydon’s +office in Victoria Street. But he just missed him; Leonard had left to +catch an early train to Brighton. + +He called on him early the next morning, and told him what had +happened. The two men looked at each other. There was an inquiry in +Leonard’s glance which Grewgus answered at once. + +“Yes, I surmise what you surmise. The genial, red-faced man was +Stormont, and there is no doubt he is at times an active member of his +organization. You may depend upon it, he is devilish clever, and this +last thing may still remain a matter of conjecture incapable of actual +proof.” + +He paused a moment, then added: “But if this poor devil lives, he is +clever enough for the same idea to occur to him. And if it does he +will speak out what he knows about Stormont.” + + + + + CHAPTER SEVENTEEN + +It was a long time before Newcombe struggled back to convalescence; +during that period Grewgus had several interviews with the doctor who +was attending him, a young, harassed-looking man who had a large but +not particularly remunerative practice in a poor neighbourhood. The +detective came to the conclusion at their first meeting that he was +not a very brilliant member of his profession. He said there were +symptoms of poisoning, certainly, probably ptomaine poisoning. The +landlady had said the patient told her he was dining at some +restaurant the previous evening. Possibly some cheap one where there +was little care exercised in the selection or cooking of food. +Undoubtedly he had partaken of some dish which had produced this +disastrous result. + +Then came the day when Grewgus was permitted to go up to the +ill-furnished room where the Colonial lay, a shadow of his former +robust self. He stretched out a wasted hand. “Very good of you to come +and see me, mate. My landlady told me a gent had been inquiring after +me. For the life of me I couldn’t guess who it was. I’ve no friends in +this infernal country. And what made you look me up?” + +Grewgus played a waiting game, till he could see his way more clearly. +“Well, just blind chance, as it were. I was in this district, on a bit +of business one day, and remembering where you lived, I thought I’d +look you up, to see if you had recovered from the effects of that +rather warm evening we spent together. I was shocked to hear you were +so bad.” + +“I’ve had a close shave, mister; the doctor told me he thought my +number was up. But he says now, if I keep quiet for a few days, I +shall pull through.” + +He paused and added grimly, “If I do, I guess it will be a +disappointment to somebody.” + +So the same suspicion had crept into his mind. Grewgus proceeded in +the same quiet way: “You dined out with a friend, your landlady told +me. No doubt you partook of some food that poisoned you?” + +The man’s calm manner left him. His eyes blazed out in sudden fury. +“And a dog-goned idiot I was, knowing the character of the man I went +with. At my time of life I ought to have had more sense.” + +For a little time he kept silence, but his eyes were blazing, his face +was working all the time. When he spoke again, it seemed as if he had, +for the moment, forgotten the other man’s presence, as if he were +muttering his thoughts aloud. + +“The dirty dog, the dirty dog to try and do me in for the sake of +saving a few paltry quid! Me that stood by him when he hadn’t got a +pal in the world, me that nursed him when he was sick to death as well +as his own mother would have done. The treacherous swine.” + +Suddenly he seemed to realize the presence of Grewgus, and his mood +underwent a sudden change. The fury in his glance died down, the voice +lost its tone of hatred. + +“Don’t take any notice of me, mate. I’m weak after this infernal bout +and perhaps a little bit light-headed. I was just rambling, that was +all.” + +Grewgus leaned forward and looked the Colonial straight in the face. +“You are not light-headed, and you are not rambling,” he said in a +firm voice. “You did not partake of any bad food. You have in your +mind the same suspicion which I have, and that is that you were +deliberately poisoned, by some subtle means, by the man, your +pretended friend, who took you out to dinner.” + +The man’s jaw dropped. He looked at the detective in a dazed kind of +way. “How did you guess that?” he cried. + +It was evident to the keen-witted Grewgus that Newcombe’s feelings +were making deadly war on each other. On the one hand he wanted to +speak, to give full vent to the terrible ideas that were surging in +his mind. On the other hand, he feared the consequence of a too frank +revelation. + +He resolved to put his cards on the table. “Now, look here, my friend, +you don’t know me from Adam. I will tell you frankly I am here for a +purpose. I’m not a detective in the usual meaning of the term, +although I was for some years at Scotland Yard. I am no longer a +recognized officer of the law, I am on my own, as a private inquiry +agent. Here is my card. My office is in Craven Street, and my name is +Grewgus.” + +The man’s mind took in the situation swiftly. “Ah, I see it now. You +followed me that night from the street where the party was--I forget +the name of it now--you followed me into the pub. You took me home, +not because you were a particularly good sort of a chap as I thought, +but because you wanted to find out where I lived.” + +“You’re a smart fellow, Newcombe, I can see that quite plainly,” said +the detective, thinking a little flattery might be judicious. “I think +you and I shall get on quite well together presently, when we know +each other better. Now, first of all, I want you to get this +thoroughly into your head, that I am not acting on behalf of the law. +Unless you recognize that, it is not likely we shall go very far. Do +you believe me?” + +Mr. Newcombe hesitated a little before he replied to this straight +question. “Suppose I say I do, just to make things more comfortable +between us,” he said presently. “You are here on behalf of somebody.” + +“Quite true,” answered Grewgus promptly. “On behalf of private +parties.” + +A cunning smile overspread the Colonial’s features. “What is it you +want to find out?” he asked bluntly. + +“I want to find out as much as I can about that man you had the +altercation with the other day, Mr. Howard Stormont, the owner of +Effington Hall, and apparently well off. At any rate, he seems to +spend a pretty good amount of money.” + +Mr. Newcombe thought things well over before he spoke again, in a +disjointed sort of way as if he were giving utterance to his own +thoughts. “Private parties you said. Well, I’d wager a bit I can guess +who the private party is--that nice-looking young fellow I met down at +Effington who’s going to marry the pretty niece. He thinks there’s a +bit of mystery about, and he wants to get to the bottom of it.” + +It was evidently not much use fencing with this shrewd, hard-headed +Colonial. “I won’t say you’re right, and I won’t say you’re wrong, +Newcombe. Think what you like. Of course, you’ll understand that in my +delicate position I can’t afford to be too frank.” + +“Neither can I, in my position,” said the Colonial with a grin. + +“Granted. Well, now let me put things as they appear to me. You can +tell me presently whether I am right or wrong. It is evident you know +something about this fellow who appears prosperous enough now. You had +fallen upon bad times, that we know from his own admission.” + +“Oh, he has told that, has he?” cried Newcombe, with something of a +snarl in his voice. “He didn’t mind giving me away, did he?” + +“In a sense he was forced to; he had to explain your sudden arrival at +Effington. Well, to continue, you had fallen upon bad times. You went +to see your old friend, and no doubt represented to him that it would +be highly inconvenient for him in his present position if you made +certain disclosures about his past. Not being a fool, he saw that.” + +Mr. Newcombe listened to this reconstruction of what had taken place +between himself and the owner of Effington Hall without interruption. +Not wishing his countenance to betray him, he kept his gaze steadily +averted. + +Grewgus looked round the ill-furnished room in a disparaging fashion. +“He recognized the fact that he could not allow you to talk, and he +agreed to make you some sort of allowance. Judging by the condition of +this apartment, not a very handsome one.” + +The Colonial indulged in a derisive grunt at this allusion to his +surroundings, but he did not break his obstinate silence. + +“Small as that allowance is, he begrudges it. Or perhaps it is not the +money he minds so much; what weighs upon his mind is that you are a +standing menace to his safety, the fear that one day, when you’ve had +a drop or two too much, you’ll blurt out the very thing he wants to +hide. He feels he’ll have no real security till you are safely out of +the way. Hence that apparently hospitable action the other day.” + +Grewgus had the satisfaction of seeing a vindictive scowl steal over +the man’s face at this reference. He hoped to appeal not only to the +Colonial’s cupidity but in an equal degree to his thirst for revenge. + +“If you ask me, I don’t think your position is a very safe one, my +friend. From what I do know of Stormont, I have reason to believe him +to be possessed of diabolical cunning, and unscrupulous to a degree. +If he has made up his mind to get you out of the way, it is long odds +that, in the end, he will accomplish his designs, either on his own +initiative or with the help of his numerous friends.” + +And then Mr. Newcombe spoke: “He’s a cunning devil enough, you’re +right about that. Well, mister private inquiry agent, let’s come to +the point. What is it you want to propose to me? You’ve been a long +time leading up to it. Let’s have it without any more beating about +the bush.” + +“If you’ll tell me the secret of Stormont’s past which he is paying +you some paltry pittance to hush up, I’ll pay you down in hard cash +the sum of five hundred pounds.” + +“And supposing you got that information--mind you, I haven’t said that +I can give it you--what use are you going to make of it?” + +Grewgus was a bit puzzled what to answer to this plain and very +natural question. Would Lydon take any steps against Stormont if he +found himself in a position to do so? The young man had carefully kept +Gloria’s name out of the matter, but the shrewd detective had +originally guessed there was a woman in the case. Newcombe’s statement +that Lydon was engaged to Stormont’s niece confirmed that suspicion +absolutely. + +No, he felt sure that his client would never lift his hand against the +uncle of the girl he loved, however great his guilt might be. He was +quite safe in making the Colonial’s mind easy on that score. Strange +perversity of human nature that this man, presumably a crook himself, +shrank from giving another crook away, even although he had been +treated so vilely. Or was Newcombe’s hesitation due to a sense of +self-preservation? In giving his old pal away, would he be forced to +implicate himself? + +“I understand what is in your mind, but I think you may be quite sure +nothing of the kind will happen. Certain suspicions having arisen, it +is necessary to confirm or remove them.” + +The Colonial was evidently thinking very deeply, looking at the matter +from every point of view. “And supposing, mind you, I only say +supposing, that the suspicions were confirmed, I presume the young +fellow would chuck this pretty girl.” + +“I am sure of the contrary,” answered the detective, speaking quite +warmly; he had taken a great fancy to Lydon and was convinced he would +never act shabbily to a woman. “It is not pleasant to have a criminal +for an uncle, of course, but I understand her father is a man of the +highest probity.” + +Again the Colonial put on his thinking cap. “That settles that, then.” +And now he began to relinquish, to some extent, his rather futile +attempts at caution. “And now let’s consider the position as it +affects me. If I give Stormont away, I shall have to make a clean bolt +of it; there’ll be no further help from that quarter. Besides, I +shouldn’t be safe, if he happened to find it out, and it’s a chance +one must reckon with. He wants to get me out of the way as it is.” + +“You’re quite right, Newcombe. If he ever got a hint, he would be +doubly, trebly anxious to remove you. If we do come to an arrangement, +you’ll have to quit in double-quick time. Now, let us discuss terms. +If you can tell me something definite about this man, as I have said, +there is five hundred pounds waiting for you. You are a man of brains +and resource; with that sum you can start life again. And, in my +candid opinion, the sooner you get out of Stormont’s reach, the better +for your own peace of mind.” + +“Not enough,” cried the Colonial promptly. “One can’t do much in +making a fresh start with five hundred. Besides, it’s worth a +thousand.” + +But if Newcombe was hard at a bargain, Grewgus was by no means a bad +man of business. He joined issue at once, and for a long time they +fought each other strenuously. A compromise was finally reached at +seven hundred. Grewgus was sure his client would go to this extent, +from what he had said. + +But the victory was not quite won yet. Newcombe wanted further time +for reflection. “It’s a very serious step you are asking me to take. +I’ve got to look at it all round. Don’t think I have any consideration +for that dirty dog, Stormont; you wouldn’t expect it, would you? If we +were out in some parts I could name, I’d plug him without the +slightest compunction; he’d deserve it. But I’ve got to think of +myself, to be sure I’m not making a false step.” + +From that position he would not budge. He must have a clear day to +think it over. If Grewgus would call at the same time to-morrow, he +would give him his decision. + +Grewgus saw his client later in the day, and got an open cheque from +him for the seven hundred pounds which he would cash on the following +morning. It was no use going to the Colonial without the money in his +pocket. His knowledge of human nature told him that Mr. Newcombe, if +he had made up his mind to betray his old pal, would stipulate that +the money should be handed over before he opened his mouth. + +“My own impression is that he will bite,” remarked the detective. “It +is perfectly obvious that he knows something damaging, or he would not +have gone so far in the preliminary negotiations. We are buying a pig +in a poke, and what he has to tell may not be worth so much money. +Still, if Stormont suffers himself to be blackmailed to the extent of +three or four pounds a week, it must be something rather bad, if not +so bad as we think.” + +Lydon agreed. Anyway, if Newcombe took the seven hundred pounds, the +suspense would be ended, they would know something definite. + +“The thing I want to assure him positively of is that nothing he tells +me will be used against himself or Stormont. I gave him this assurance +off my own bat, as it were,” said the detective as he took his leave. +“I take it that, whatever we find out, you personally have no +intention of setting the police upon Stormont. In other words, this is +strictly a private inquiry, with which the official police will have +nothing to do?” + +Lydon assured him that this was so. He could not yet quite bring +himself to disclose his relations to Gloria. He simply said that the +man belonged to a highly-respectable family which he was determined to +spare so far as it lay in his power. + +The French police were still probing the mystery of the death of +Calliard, the jeweller. If they were successful, it was more than +probable that Stormont might be implicated. That contingency could not +be averted. + +“Of course, I shall mention nothing of that affair to Newcombe,” was +the detective’s reply. + + + + + CHAPTER EIGHTEEN + +Grewgus did not pay his visit the next day as arranged. In the +morning he received a wire from Newcombe, asking him for a respite of +another twenty-four hours. It was evident the Colonial wanted to think +the matter well over, in other words to consider which course would be +the most beneficial to his own interests. + +On the second day the detective presented himself with the seven +hundred pounds in his pocket, the money which he devoutly hoped would +soon pass from his keeping. + +Newcombe was much better, had recovered marvellously in that couple of +days. His lean face had filled out; there were no longer about him the +signs of a deadly and wasting illness. He greeted his visitor with a +rough good-humour. Grewgus, a shrewd judge of men, put him down as a +good-tempered fellow in the main, inclined to be quarrelsome and +vindictive when the drink overtook him, rather a man of moods and apt +to act on impulse. + +“Come along, mister, glad to see you. The doctor says I have made a +marvellous rally. I’m a different man from what I was when you last +saw me. A lot of fight yet left in old Tom Newcombe.” + +Grewgus paid him handsome compliments on his changed appearance and +laid on a little flattery. “Even now you look as if you could knock +spots off some of the young ones. I should say you would be as fit as +a fiddle in another week or ten days.” + +The Colonial laughed his loud, hoarse laugh. “I guess a certain person +will be bitterly disappointed to find his old pal is so tough. Ha ha! +he’s wondering what has become of me. His money has come right enough, +but I haven’t acknowledged it yet. I don’t quite know what I’m going +to do about that. It depends.” + +Grewgus did not answer. He was fairly confident he had won the day, +but he did not wish to spoil matters by hurrying them unduly. He +smiled agreeably and waited for Newcombe to speak again. “Well, +mister, I’ve decided to accept your offer. Have you brought the +‘boodle’? If you haven’t we can adjourn this meeting till to-morrow. +Another day will make no difference to me.” + +Grewgus drew out a bulky pocket-book and flourished it invitingly in +front of his companion. “I’m a man of my word, Newcombe. I wasn’t, of +course, absolutely sure of what your decision might be, but I brought +the money on the off-chance. You would like me to hand it over to you +at once, eh?” + +The man’s eyes had an avaricious gleam at this invitation. The +detective thought it was a long time since he had handled such a sum. +“What do _you_ think?” he said with a chuckle. “The money first, the +information after. You would do the same in my place now, wouldn’t +you, if you had the brains of a mouse?” + +Grewgus could be as frank as anybody, when there was no necessity to +beat about the bush. “I trust you more than you trust me, Newcombe. +Here is the money. Count it over before you start.” + +Newcombe began to count over the money. Suddenly he looked up at his +companion with a rather aggrieved air. “I say, you didn’t answer that +question. Wouldn’t you do the same in my place? It’s a matter of +business, ain’t it, pure and simple?” + +“Of course, my good fellow, I am not complaining. If I were you I +would certainly have the money before I opened my mouth.” + +Mollified by this rejoinder, the Colonial stuffed the notes in his +pocket, and again burst into his loud laugh. + +“Now, you’re a clever man, mister--a darned sight cleverer than I am, +I expect--and I suppose you haven’t overlooked the fact that I might +take the money and give you practically nothing for it.” + +Grewgus intimated in his suavest manner that such a contingency had +not escaped his intelligence. In some cases he would have taken +greater precautions. He ended with a handsome compliment. “I don’t +know much of you, Newcombe, but I’m pretty sure you’re not one of that +sort.” + +The Colonial looked pleased. “You’re right, Mr. Grewgus, I don’t +pretend to be much, but if people play fair and square with me, I play +fair and square with them. I’ve never rounded on a pal yet; I +shouldn’t round on this swine if he hadn’t played the dirty on me. +Why, a week or two ago I would have been cut into little bits before I +would have given Howard Stormont away. That was when I believed him to +be a pal, not a too generous one perhaps, but still a pal. Have you +got me?” + +“Perfectly,” answered Grewgus smoothly. “You would be a bit of a soft, +I think, if you showed Stormont any quarter.” + +The man’s eyes flashed with sudden fury, it was evident his hatred of +his old friend was very intense, and that once having made up his +mind, he rejoiced in getting even with him. + +“Yes, that was a bad evening’s work for him, cleverly as he thought he +had managed it. He was always very keen on the poisoning business, +although mind you, I can’t honestly say that I ever knew of any case +in which he had given it. But he was always fond of reading books on +the subject. He used to laugh when he told me how people in the old +days used to polish off their enemies with a poisoned glove or flower. +He dropped a little drop of something into my drink that night, you +bet--something that this fool of a doctor could not detect anyway.” + +“And if you don’t get yourself out of this neighbourhood he’ll try it +again. I shouldn’t say he is the sort of man to be baffled by a first +failure,” commented Grewgus, whose object it was to keep the +Colonial’s indignation at white heat. “And now, Newcombe, let’s get to +business. You’ve counted the money and found it right. It’s for you to +carry out your part of the bargain.” + +There was just a touch of shamefacedness in the man’s expression, +hardened character as he was, as he began his story. + +“I’m not going to say more about myself than I can help, Mr. Grewgus. +You won’t blame me for that, I’m sure.” + +“Not in the least. To be quite frank, I’m not interested in your +career, Newcombe. Stormont’s is the only one that concerns me.” + +“Right-o! And if anything comes of it, you’re not going to drag me in. +You promised that at the beginning, didn’t you?” + +“Practically I did, and I repeat that promise now,” confirmed Grewgus. + +“Well, mister, I’ll start with the days when I first came across +Howard Stormont, when we both were young men. No need to tell you I +wasn’t a model youth. If I had been, I shouldn’t have picked up with +him, or rather he with me. Upon my word of honour, Mr. Grewgus, I +never had much of a chance. My mother, I know, was a good woman, she +died when I was a kid, I should say of a broken heart. My father was a +ne’er-do-well, drunken, callous, dishonest. Unfortunately I took after +him, but never in my life have I had decent luck. If I went straight +for a bit, misfortune dogged me, and on the crook I didn’t fare much +better.” + +Proceeding with his narrative, the Colonial explained that at this +period he was associated with a set of men who were not particular as +to how they got their living, although they could not boast of being +scientific or high-class criminals. The one thing to which they had +definitely made up their minds was that they would not work, except +under the direst compulsion. They preferred to beg, borrow, or, when +necessary, cheat and steal. + +Stormont, then quite a young man, a little while before was introduced +to this promising association, and in spite of his youth soon evinced +qualities that marked him out for leadership. It was whispered about +presently that he had got into some trouble at home and that his +relatives had insisted on his going abroad. + +“I never knew precisely what the trouble was,” Newcombe explained, +“but from all I could gather from a few things dropped by him when he +had a little--for he was a heavy drinker in those days--it was about +money. His people--he always used to boast that he came of a highly +respectable family--paid his passage out and gave him a few pounds +over. I understood he was not to go back to England till he could +return with a clean bill of health. + +“Him and me took a great fancy to each other. I don’t quite know what +he saw in me, for I was rather a dull, plodding sort of chap compared +with most of the men I associated with, who told me I wasn’t quite +clever enough for the game. What I admired in him was his high +spirits, and first and foremost his wonderful cunning and cleverness: +he was always alert and up to every move on the board. He was also +very generous, spent money like water when he had it, and most popular +with his mates. They thought a wonderful lot of his abilities and +prophesied that he would one day become a crook of the first water.” + +“I take it, these associates of yours were not in the front rank of +their profession?” interjected Grewgus. + +The Colonial shook his head. “Certainly not; with the exception of +Stormont they had neither the nerves nor the brains. A great deal of +card-sharping, plucking raw young pigeons who had just come out, a +little bit of easy swindling here and there, that was as far as they +could go. Stormont was altogether on a higher plane. He had the brain +to invent and elaborate big things.” + +“And of course, he joined you in these agreeable pursuits, the +card-sharping, the plucking of young pigeons, even although they did +not give full scope for the exercise of his superior talents.” + +“That is so, mister, and in a minute I’m coming to what you want to +know. I take it, you’ve been making a lot of inquiries, but up to the +present you haven’t been able to prove definitely he is the criminal +you believe him to be. That goes without saying. If you could have got +that information yourself, you wouldn’t chuck away seven hundred +pounds on me.” + +The Colonial, when he could keep off the drink, was evidently a clear +thinker. With great modesty he had spoken of himself as a dull and +plodding fellow, but Grewgus did not consider him as dull as he +pretended to be. Probably intemperance had stood in his way: prevented +him from being a successful crook and reduced him to his present +position of subsisting on Stormont’s bounty. + +“Well, the game wasn’t fast enough for him; the profits out of this +petty kind of roguery were too small for a man of his ambitious nature +and expensive tastes. Three or four times he launched out on things of +his own--things that the others were too timid or too slow-witted to +join in. And the last one brought him to grief.” + +Grewgus leaned forward in an attitude of expectation. At last he was +going to get something definite about the apparently prosperous owner +of Effington Hall. + +“It was rather a neat little bit of forgery. He had laid his plans +well too, thought it all out very carefully, almost succeeded in +fixing the guilt upon another chap, a perfectly honest man.” + +“As big a scandal as that, eh?” was the detective’s surprised comment. + +Newcombe indulged in a sardonic laugh. “Stormont wasn’t the sort of +man to think of anybody but himself. As long as he could swim he +didn’t care who sank. An innocent man sacrificed didn’t weigh heavily +on his conscience. But clever as he was, the police just went one +better. The other fellow’s innocence was proved and the guilt clearly +fastened on the right person. I forgot to tell you that when he began +to launch out on these dangerous _coups_ he changed his name from +Stormont to Manvers. Under the name of Manvers he was convicted and +sentenced to a pretty tidy term of imprisonment. Now, I’ve kept all +the papers describing the trial and evidence. I shan’t give them up, +of course; but if you give me your solemn word of honour to return +them to me, I’ll lend them to you to make copies of.” + +“Thanks very much; I’ll take them away with me when I leave. Does the +name of Stormont occur in them?” + +“Yes, they discovered he had been passing under the two, but they +inclined to the belief that Manvers was the real one, and as Manvers +he was convicted. Of course his old pals knew better.” + +“And what became of him after he came out of prison?” + +“He went back to England; I expect that sharp dose of imprisonment +sickened him of Australia. He had been clever enough to put away the +swag somewhere; it was quite a nice little sum. I’ve a notion he had a +confederate, although I’m sure it was not one of the old lot, somebody +much cleverer than we could turn out. He came to say good-bye to me +and one or two others who had been his particular pals. He bluffed us +that when he got back to his own country he was going to lead an +honest life. For my part, I never believed it. Howard Stormont was a +crook by instinct and he’d never do a bit of honest work if he could +get money by any other means.” + +“What do you know of his career between the time he left England and +when you paid him that surprise visit at Effington Hall?” + +“Practically nothing,” was the answer. “In the rough and ready life +out there, one soon forgets things, anyway you don’t think continually +of them. I had a lot of bad luck and after many years I worked my way +back to the old country. As I was looking about for any kind of job +that would keep my head above water, I began to think a good deal +about him and wondered what he was doing, if he had struck oil or not. + +“By the merest accident I got on his track, saw him coming out of some +city offices unseen by him. A telegraph boy was passing at the time, +and I asked him if he knew anything of the gentleman, slipping into +his hand a shilling which I could ill afford. He seemed to know a good +deal about him. He was a Mr. Howard Stormont--that of course I was +sure of as, with the exception of growing stouter, he had not altered +since the Australian days--that he was engaged in business, and lived +in a fine house in Surrey at a place called Effington. I smartened +myself up as well as I could, for I had very nearly come to the end of +my tether, and went down there. Lord, he was struck all of a heap when +he saw me, so was the flunkey who opened the door. + +“He was always a quick-witted fellow, so as soon as he had recovered +from the shock, he made the best of it, and took me into his study, +where we had a long jaw. He told me he had gone in for +finance--perfectly straight business, he swore--but it was terribly +hazardous, and he owned he was living up to the hilt. Knowing his +extravagance of old, I thought it very likely, but he might be +pretending this in order to choke me off, as he could be pretty +certain I hadn’t called upon him merely to inquire after the state of +his health. He was devilish civil all through, of course; he knew I +was acquainted with that nasty little episode, and he didn’t dare to +ride the high horse.” + +“And in the end you came to some little financial arrangement?” + +“Why, naturally. But he made a hard bargain. When he had money, he was +generous in a spasmodic sort of way; he would stand you any amount of +food and drink, but he was never fond of parting with actual cash. The +sort of man that would give you a dinner costing five pounds, and +button up his pockets when you asked him for the loan of a quid. He +said he’d try and find me a good job, and in the meantime he would +allow me four pounds a week.” + +“I should say you found it a tight fit,” remarked Grewgus, thinking of +his companion’s fondness for liquid refreshment. + +“You never spoke a truer word. But I couldn’t get him higher. He +pretended that he was frightfully hard up, and that any moment he +might have to give up his fine house. Of course, he knew I wasn’t in a +position to bargain.” + +A smile of reminiscence stole over the Colonial’s face as he +continued: “I’m afraid I didn’t behave very well on that visit. He had +on a swell dinner-party that night, which of course I didn’t expect to +be present at, I wasn’t dressed for the part. I had a fine dinner by +myself, and after his guests had gone, he came in and chatted with me +for a few minutes, and set a bottle of whisky in front of me before he +left. + +“I’d been going very much on the teetotal lately, through lack of the +ready, and when I saw that tempting bottle before me, I went at it +with a vengeance. When I take a drop too much, I get quarrelsome, the +stuff brings the worst of me to the surface. I began to think he +wasn’t treating me too courteously, and I followed him into the +billiard-room to have it out with him. + +“He smoothed me down after a bit, and I had some more drink--there was +plenty of it about--and I got from the quarrelsome into the stupid +stage. I made a silly reference to a little prank of ours when we +followed up a young greenhorn with a view to relieving him of some of +his money. Luckily, he stopped me in time; his niece and her young man +were there, but of course it was a silly thing to do. I think he was +afraid of me from that moment, was never sure of what I might let out +when I was in the same condition.” + +Grewgus interrupted the flow of reminiscences relating to that +embarrassing visit to Effington Hall. “Now tell me, please, all that +took place on that day when Stormont took you to the restaurant.” + +The Colonial’s face darkened at the allusion. “The scoundrel showed +his usual cunning. You know of that little scene that occurred outside +the house in that street, the name of which I never can remember. Ah, +yes, Curzon Street. You remember how upset I was about it, how very +near I was to giving him away on the evening you came across me. Well, +I suppose Stormont had been thinking it over too, and came to the +conclusion he had gone too far, offended me beyond forgiveness. Well, +the next day, while I was brooding over it, he walks into my room, +with his hand outstretched, and smiling all over his red face. + +“‘Tom, old man, we’ve been too good friends in the past to quarrel +now,’ he says. ‘Let us forget and forgive, and shake hands on it. I +was so riled when you came up to me in that state, before all the +crowd too, that I lost my head. I’m sorry if I spoke too harshly, but +you must allow it was a bit rough on me. Let us both bury the +hatchet.’ + +“I don’t think I’m a very vindictive man, except when somebody plays +the real dirty on me,” urged Newcombe in his own defence. “And I was +forced to admit to myself it was a trifle rough on him, as he said. +Well, after a bit, we made it up and agreed to be friends again. He +seemed awfully relieved, and proposed I should go out to dinner with +him, not to one of the swagger places, which he knew I shouldn’t care +for, but to a quiet little restaurant in Soho. + +“We went there, and I had a splendid dinner, and as much drink as I +cared to take. He drank plenty too, but his head was always harder +than mine, and he would be sitting up in his chair when I was under +the table. When I got home, I felt a bit muddled, and when I woke in +the morning I knew I had had a warm night. But it wasn’t till the +middle of the day that I began to feel really queer. I heard the +doctor whispering to the landlady, and I caught the word ‘poisoned.’ +When I was able to think things over, I began to tumble to what had +happened. I understood why he had been so devilish civil. I had given +him away in a sense twice. He was afraid of me, and thought there +would be no peace for him till I was out of the way. The dirty dog! +The dirty dog! I must try and not think of it more than I can help. It +makes me see red when I do.” + +There was a long silence after this rather furious outburst. Grewgus +broke it with the question: “And have you any ideas as to what he has +been doing all these years in England?” + +Newcombe indulged in a rather cunning smile. “That’s not quite in the +contract, is it, mister? I ought to ask a bit more for that, but still +you have played fair and square with me, I don’t mind answering you. +Mark you, I have never been able to get a word out of Stormont; he +swears through thick and thin he’s on the square. But I’ve done a +little spying on my own account, and I’ve come to the conclusion he’s +after the same old game, but much bigger game. There’s no legitimate +business done in that tinpot office in the city. There’s nobody there +but himself and a man named Whitehouse, a solemn-looking sort of cove +who puts in an appearance about three or four times a week. Have you +come across Whitehouse?” + +The detective nodded. “Yes, I know a little about him, not very much. +A very old friend of Stormont’s, according to Stormont’s account.” + +He did not tell him that the man carried on a solicitor’s business +also, under the name of Glenthorne. It was a fixed policy with him to +obtain confidences, not to make them. + +“And I am pretty sure he _is_ a very old friend,” observed the +Colonial. “The first time I spotted him coming out of that office in +the City--I had placed myself where he wasn’t likely to see me--his +face seemed familiar. There was a young chap, not one of ours, whom +I’ve seen several times with Stormont in the old Australian days. He +wasn’t known to any of our lot, and Stormont never said much about +him, never mentioned his name, but I always had a notion they were in +some jobs together. When Stormont went to quod under the name of +Manvers, this chap disappeared altogether. Now, I’m not prepared to +swear to it, but I’ve got more than a notion that this fellow--he was +a young man then--and Whitehouse are one and the same person.” + +Grewgus left presently, very satisfied with his day’s work, taking +with him the papers which contained a full account of the trial and +conviction of Manvers, otherwise Stormont. The next day he had a long +interview with Lydon. + +“Well, I don’t begrudge the money,” said the young man, after +listening to what had passed between the two men. “We have now proved +absolutely that the man is a criminal, and a pretty desperate one at +that.” + +The thing that was worrying him was this--had things now come to such +a pass that he ought to pass on the information he had acquired to +Jasper Stormont? Was it right that Gloria should ever return to her +uncle’s custody? + +Without mentioning his exact relations with the girl, relations which +Grewgus already knew of from Newcombe, he put this question. + +“Let’s wait a bit, something else of a confirmatory nature may turn +up,” answered the detective. “You still want me to watch the little +game going on at Curzon Street. Something may come to light there.” + +And so it was left. Lydon would not approach Jasper Stormont just yet. +There was still some time before he would return to China, and until +then Gloria was safe from further association with her criminal uncle. + +A week later there came to Grewgus a telephone call from the offices +of Messrs. Shelford and Taylor, the solicitors. + +“Is that you, Grewgus? Good morning.” It was Mr. Shelford speaking. “I +am sending a client of mine, Lord Wraysbury, round to confer with you. +A very serious business, I fear. He will explain it all to you. +Divorce proceedings are threatened, but I think blackmail is the real +object. You might know something or find out something about the +people. Will twelve o’clock suit you?” + +At the mention of Wraysbury’s name, Grewgus had a premonition of what +was in the air. + +“Perfectly, Mr. Shelford, I will be in,” he said. “What are the names +of the parties?” + +The reply was what he expected. “A young married couple of the name of +Edwards. They live in Curzon Street.” + + + + + CHAPTER NINETEEN + +There was a decided feeling of elation in Grewgus as he waited the +advent of Lord Wraysbury. The loose strands were being gathered +together by this unexpected visit. + +He formed a rapid impression of the handsome young man as they +exchanged a few conventional words of greeting. Rather impulsive, +generous, easy-going, not burdened with any great excess of mentality, +likely to be easily exploited by designing persons, trusting and +unsuspicious. + +The young nobleman was perfectly straightforward as to the object of +his visit, and made no attempt to beat about the bush. + +“The plain truth, Mr. Grewgus, is that I have made a fool of myself,” +he told him. “Shelford, whose firm has acted for us for years, since +my grandfather’s time, says there is no doubt it is a blackmailing +case, and advised me to come here and tell you the whole story from +the beginning to the very unpleasant end.” + +“That will certainly be the best plan, Lord Wraysbury; Mr. Shelford +told me as much over the ’phone. When I have learned all the details, +it will be possible for me to tell you if I can help you.” + +The young nobleman, in his pleasant, well-bred voice, proceeded to +unfold the history of the relations with Mrs. Edwards--perfectly +innocent relations he urged with a warmth that was undoubtedly +genuine, which had led to the present trouble. + +A couple of years ago he had met at Monte Carlo a Mrs. and Miss +Glenthorne, mother and daughter. Miss Glenthorne was a very charming +and attractive girl; the mother seemed somewhat of a nonentity and +kept herself in the background, giving pride of place to her clever +and particularly fascinating offspring. + +At this point Grewgus interrupted his client. + +“One moment, please. Is this Mrs. Glenthorne a stoutish woman, with a +Jewish type of countenance?” + +“Yes, I should certainly say there was more than a touch of the chosen +race about her,” was the reply. “You know her, then?” + +“I can hardly say as much as that, Lord Wraysbury. I have seen her +once or twice, but I have never spoken to her. The point of importance +so far as you are concerned is that I know something of her, also +something of the daughter. Tell me, does not the young lady wear on +every possible occasion a pendant of a very peculiar design, a big +sapphire set in an unusual manner?” + +Again the answer was in the affirmative. The young man was naturally +greatly surprised at the detective’s display of knowledge. + +“It seems I’ve come to the right place,” he remarked with an almost +boyish glee. “I infer from your manner that what you know about them +is not anything to their credit.” + +Grewgus smiled with his somewhat enigmatic smile. “I think I would +rather wait till the end of your story before I say anything, if you +don’t mind. I shall interrupt you as little as possible, and when I do +it will only be for the purpose of clearing up some point that +suddenly suggests itself.” + +The young nobleman proceeded with his story. The two women were +staying at one of the less expensive hotels in the place; he gathered +that the mother was a widow, and had been left an income that was +comfortable, but not large, that enabled her and her daughter to enjoy +life in a moderate and modest way. He first made their acquaintance at +the tables, where the young woman occasionally risked a few francs. +The mother never played. + +Wraysbury made no secret of the fact that the girl interested him very +considerably; she was clever, bright, amusing, and also beautiful. He +was never at any moment seriously in love with her. The fact that she +was a mere casual acquaintance, of whose antecedents he knew nothing, +forbade any such happening. But in the free and easy atmosphere of +Monte Carlo the acquaintance ripened considerably. Possibly onlookers +might have considered it an obvious flirtation on both sides. All the +time he was perfectly heart-whole, and he felt pretty certain that the +young woman was in the same condition. + +He took her to dinner on a few occasions, and every time the mother +was present. He bought Miss Glenthorne flowers and chocolates, nothing +of a more expensive nature, and no letters, not even the briefest +note, had ever passed between them. There had never been the slightest +attempt on his part at love-making. + +His reasons for this attitude were perfectly honourable ones, as he +explained to the detective. Everybody knew that he had come into +possession of a considerable fortune, and that he was a more than +usually eligible person from a matrimonial point of view. He was too +modest to flatter himself that he had any special attractions for +women, but his money was bound to have. Miss Glenthorne appeared to +him then to be a well-conducted, modest girl, but no doubt, like the +majority of women, she was anxious to settle herself well in life. +Under such circumstances, it would have been conduct little short of +dastardly if he had led her to entertain false hopes of becoming Lady +Wraysbury. + +“It was just a most agreeable acquaintance, nothing more,” concluded +the young man as he finished this portion of his story. + +In due course Wraysbury left Monte Carlo, and said good-bye to the two +women. There was nothing of a sentimental nature in their parting, no +reference to further meetings in the future. He learned that they did +not visit Monte Carlo frequently, and they very seldom came to +England. He thought it extremely improbable that he would ever come +across the couple again. In due course the memory of the dark, +handsome girl faded away from his active recollections. + +Then one day, as Grewgus already had learned from Lydon, he met the +young woman at the _Ritz_, after this considerable period. She was +accompanied by a smart-looking man, whom she introduced as her husband +by the fairly common name of Edwards. She pressed him warmly to call +at their house in Curzon Street, an invitation which was heartily +seconded by the husband. + +“You knew nothing, of course, of this man Edwards?” queried Grewgus. + +“Nothing at all. We had a rather long chat, in which he did a good +deal of the talking, and he seemed to know his way about. He spoke of +attending Ascot and Goodwood and Henley; said he had seen me at all +these places. I had certainly not seen him, should not have known him +if I had,” was Wraysbury’s answer. + +“I take it, he was not at all in your world?” + +“Most certainly not, but my impression of him was that he was a very +pleasant and gentlemanly fellow. Well, when we parted, I certainly +said that I would call; I could not very well hurt their feelings by a +positive refusal. But really I had no intention of going. As a single +girl, Miss Glenthorne was a most pleasant casual acquaintance, but I +did not particularly wish to mix myself up with the Curzon Street +ménage.” + +“And, later on, I suppose you changed your mind?” + +A slight wave of colour swept over the young man’s face at the +question. “Unfortunately, as it turned out, I did. I’m afraid I’m +rather a vacillating sort of chap, making good resolutions one minute +and breaking them the next. I don’t quite know what led me to break +them in this case. I think principally a silly sort of curiosity to +know how she would comport herself in her new rôle of married woman. +I was, to a certain extent, interested in her, but by no means unduly +fascinated. And perhaps, Mr. Grewgus, you may not believe me when I +say it, but I am not a libertine, and have no desire to run after +other men’s wives.” + +Certainly, Lord Wraysbury gave the detective the impression of being a +quite honourable and clean-living young fellow. But possibly the +seductive Zillah had exercised over him a fascination which he would +not admit to himself. + +So he made his first call in Curzon Street. Edwards happened to be at +home, and laid himself out to be especially agreeable to the visitor. +The wife was charming, too, but she seemed a little pensive and +_distraite_, as if she had something on her mind. Lord Wraysbury noted +that the married couple did not seem to address much of the +conversation to each other. He left the house with a distinct +impression that the pair had had a recent quarrel, or that there was +just a little rift within the lute in their married life. + +He left in due course, but not before he had accepted an invitation to +dine informally with them a couple of days later. He had done his best +to get out of it, but Edwards, to whom he had rather taken a fancy, +had been so insistent that his resistance was overborne. And here +again curiosity played a large part in his decision. He could easily +have thrown them over, but he wanted to test his suspicions, to see if +all was right between this very charming woman and her equally +charming husband. + +But he had not so far the least idea of the game that was being +played. Everything seemed square and above-board. There was evidently +plenty of money about; the house was run on a liberal scale. Edwards +himself was a most companionable and gentlemanly fellow. He was not +quite sure there might not be some ulterior motive in this extreme +friendliness, this insistent hospitality. But he fancied it might be a +social one. Probably they were ambitious, and wanted to climb in the +world. If they made a friend of him he might be disposed to help them +in their designs. + +He went to dinner. “Quite an informal affair,” he explained to +Grewgus. “There was only one other guest, a very breezy, red-faced +man, just a trifle vulgar. His name was Stormont, and Mrs. Edwards +addressed him as uncle. I gathered he had known her from a child and +was excessively fond of her, but he was no actual relation. My +original suspicions were rather confirmed; there seemed a certain +coldness between husband and wife, veiled under the appearance of +great politeness. I couldn’t understand it. Mrs. Edwards’ conduct as a +young wife seemed to me to be quite perfect. I could not help thinking +it must be his fault.” + +He went again very shortly to a second dinner. As on the previous +occasion, there was only one other guest. This time it was her real +uncle, a man named Glenthorne, a rather gloomy, taciturn fellow, whom +he judged to be altogether of a superior class to Stormont. But of the +two he preferred the adopted uncle. + +He went to Curzon Street three or four times after that, once to the +big party which the pair had given as a sort of house-warming. All the +time, from various signs and symptoms, his conviction grew that Mrs. +Edwards’ life was not a happy one, in spite of her efforts to mask the +fact under an assumption of cheerfulness and high spirits. + +The climax was quickly reached. On a certain day Wraysbury received a +note from her, asking if he would call that evening after eight +o’clock. She could not ask him to dinner for reasons she would explain +when she saw him. She was about to take a very important step, and, +presuming on their old acquaintance, she would like to consult him as +to the prudence of it. If he were engaged that evening, would he make +it the next, or the next after that? + +“Of course, now I come to think of it, there was something suspicious +in that note,” said the young nobleman. “I ought to have told her to +write to me what she wanted to consult me about, and I would preserve +absolute silence and destroy the letter; but I’m foolishly +unsuspicious, and I went, being disengaged that night. + +“To my great surprise, the door was opened by Mrs. Edwards herself. +She appeared in a state of great agitation; I thought at the time she +had been crying. + +“‘Oh, Lord Wraysbury, I am in the greatest trouble,’ she said in a +distressed voice. ‘Come up to the drawing-room for just a few minutes, +so that I can tell you about it. There is no danger. My husband is in +the country and won’t be back for a week. I have sent the servants out +to the theatre, so that we might be alone. That is why I couldn’t ask +you to dinner.’” + +Wraysbury did not quite like the look of things, the absence of both +husband and servants, but he was still unsuspicious. The woman played +her part so well that he attributed her rather foolish act to her +acute distress of mind. He was quite sure it was connected with her +husband, and that his suspicions of the unhappiness of their married +life were going to be confirmed by her revelations. + +He went up to the drawing-room with her, resolving to get out of the +embarrassing situation as soon as he could, and she at once burst +forth into an impassioned account of her wrongs and sufferings. + +According to her account, Edwards, so genial and gentlemanly in public +life, was a bully and a brute. On many occasions she had suffered +personal violence at his hands. She rolled up her sleeve and showed a +shapely arm on which appeared a big bruise which had been inflicted a +couple of days ago. She had no positive evidence of infidelity, but +she had grave suspicions of his relations with other women. On +Wraysbury remarking that it was very early in their married life for +such a thing to occur, she made a confession. + +“I must tell you a little secret. We have been married for some time; +it was kept quiet for certain reasons of his own. The truth is, Lord +Wraysbury, he is tired of me. I feel I can stand it no longer. I have +made up my mind to leave him. I’m sure you can’t blame me.” + +This was evidently the subject on which she had wanted his advice, and +still unsuspicious, the young man answered her question. + +“But after all, Mrs. Edwards, I am not the person to whom you should +come for advice,” he had told her. “You are not without friends, who +would not feel the responsibility as I should. There is your mother, +your uncle, this man Stormont, who has the same regard for you that he +would have for his own niece. Have you spoken to them, or if you have +not, would it not be wise to do so, before taking such a serious +step?” + +She had answered him with a profusion of tears that her mother was a +woman of weak character, who would make any sacrifice for the sake of +peace. She would advise her to bear her burden with as much fortitude +as she could. Both Glenthorne and Stormont would oppose her. They were +very worldly men; they would point out to her the folly of forfeiting +the advantages which her position as the wife of a rich man gave her; +they would remind her of the equivocal status of an unattached woman +who was neither maid, wife nor widow. + +Suddenly she burst into a fit of passionate weeping, drew her chair +close to his and laid her hand upon his arm. “Oh, please befriend me,” +she wailed. “The others will give me advice that will suit themselves. +Be my friend. Tell me what to do.” + +And at this moment, the most compromising one in their interview, the +door opened, and Edwards walked into the room. Not the smiling, genial +man he had known up to the present, but another person altogether, his +eyes glaring, his face contorted with fury. He thundered at the +weeping woman to go to her room and leave him alone to deal with her +lover. + +He turned to the discomfited young nobleman and spoke with an angry +snarl in his voice when she had obeyed his order. + +“And what have you to say, my lord, in explanation of this vile +outrage upon an unsuspecting man?” + +Wraysbury made the best defence he could, a perfectly truthful one. He +had come there in answer to a note from his wife, asking him to call +upon her in reference to a subject on which she wanted advice. + +Edwards listened in stony silence. His fury had died down, but his +voice had an inflection of cutting sarcasm when he replied: + +“Do you believe such a story would take in a child? You must think me +a simpleton to credit it. I had not intended to return for another +week, but the sudden illness of a friend caused me to change my +plans,” he said. “I came home, as I imagined, to the society of a +faithful wife. After I had put my key into the door, I noticed an +unnatural stillness in the house. I go down into the lower regions; +there is not a servant left in the place--they have been got out of +the way by some cunning means. I go up the stairs to the drawing-room. +As I ascend I hear the sound of voices--presently that of a woman +sobbing. I open the door and see her with her hand upon your arm. What +conclusion am I to draw from that? You have stolen her in my absence, +and the servants have been got out of the way. You can show me twenty +letters; they are a part of the game to try and avert suspicion in the +remote event of discovery.” + +Wraysbury was nonplussed. To any husband the situation might have +borne the interpretation he put upon it. + +Edwards spoke again in a peremptory voice. “Leave this house, Lord +Wraysbury, at once; your presence has polluted it too long. But don’t +think for a moment that, because you occupy a high position in the +world, and I am in your eyes a mere nobody, that you are going to go +scot-free. Neither shall this worthless woman whom you have dazzled +with your fine manners and your great fortune. Before long you will +hear from my solicitors.” + +Wraysbury knew that argument was useless. He left Curzon Street +feeling bitterly humiliated. + +And as he walked along there dawned upon him the conviction that this +was no unrehearsed scene to which he had been subjected, that there +had been a cunning plot between husband and wife to entrap him. The +woman’s tears were simulated; her story of ill-treatment was a myth. +That bruise she showed him had been purposely made to lend colour to +her story. + +Two days later a letter arrived from a firm of solicitors, stating +that they were instructed by their client Mr. Edwards to bring an +action for divorce, and requesting the name of a firm who would act +for him in the matter. + +He made an appointment with Mr. Shelford, but before the time arrived +for him to keep it, he had a visit from Glenthorne, whose usually +grave face looked graver than ever when he met Wraysbury. + + + + + CHAPTER TWENTY + +“A very terrible affair, Lord Wraysbury,” were his first remarks. +“Very terrible for all parties concerned. Zillah has been to me; she +is distracted. They had an awful scene after you went, and the same +evening Edwards left the house. He raved that he would not spend +another night under the same roof with her. Much as I deplore her +conduct, I could not help pitying her.” + +Mr. Glenthorne seemed to make no secret of his belief in the guilt of +the parties. “Of course, she swore to me that her husband had no +ground for his suspicions, that unfortunately appearances were against +her, that she was perfectly innocent. Well, any woman in her position +would naturally say the same thing.” + +“Mrs. Edwards has simply told the truth,” answered Wraysbury, speaking +with the warmth he felt. “She is innocent, and so am I.” + +“Lord Wraysbury, you will understand that I should espouse my niece’s +cause if I felt I had a leg to stand upon,” said the usually taciturn +man. “In that case, I would go to her husband and force him to hear +reason. But how can I, in the face of such strong circumstantial +evidence? How would it appear to you, if I told you the same story of +somebody else? Her husband away, as she was quite sure, the servants +packed off to the theatre, she alone in the house! What would a jury +say?” + +It was on the tip of the young man’s tongue to answer that he was +convinced that it was an elaborate plot, engineered by one or both and +carried out with scrupulous regard to detail. But he could not say +this very well to the woman’s uncle, at any rate till he had received +capable advice. He took refuge in silence, till suddenly what he +considered a bright idea struck him. It was his general rule to +destroy all correspondence that he considered of little importance, +and at the time he had certainly classed Mrs. Edwards’ letter under +that category. But by the merest accident he had preserved it, and he +showed it to his visitor with the observation, “If that doesn’t prove +to you my visit was an innocent one, nothing will.” + +The grave-faced man read it with the closest attention, and in due +course handed it back. “This cuts both ways, my lord. You probably are +not possessed of what we call the legal mind. I am, being in the +profession of the law myself, I am a solicitor. If I were acting as +your counsel, I should urge this as an almost convincing proof of your +innocence. But how would the counsel on the other side argue? He would +say that letter was written with a purpose, as the result of an +agreement between both parties, the purpose being to avert suspicion +if, by an unforeseen accident, you were discovered together. He would +also say that if the visit were a perfectly innocent one, there would +be no necessity to get the servants out of the way. Mind you, I am +endeavouring to show you what would present itself to the legal mind. +It would give me the greatest pleasure to prove Edwards in the wrong, +but I fear that letter won’t help me.” + +It might be a mere coincidence, but he was using just the same +argument that the husband had employed. Having once allowed the +suspicious side of his nature to develop itself, Wraysbury suspected +this grave-faced man. + +“What is the object of this visit, Mr. Glenthorne?” he asked sharply. + +“My deep concern for my niece’s welfare,” was the reply. “It is an +awful thing to contemplate a beautiful young woman’s career being +blasted almost before it has begun, as it must be if this affair comes +into court.” + +“Had you not better show that letter to Edwards, and point out to him +the consequences of the step he is taking?” + +Mr. Glenthorne spoke, Wraysbury thought, in a less assured tone. + +“Unfortunately Edwards is a very obstinate man, a very vindictive one. +The only thing one could appeal to, perhaps, would be his cupidity. He +is very fond of money for its own sake, not because he hasn’t plenty +of his own.” + +Wraysbury repressed a smile. Sharpened by his experience of recent +events, he divined that this solemn-faced, not very prepossessing +person had come as an emissary. Realizing the delicacy of his mission, +he experienced some embarrassment in coming to the point. He was now +evidently on the road to it. + +“Will you speak a little more plainly, sir? I am not a very subtle +person myself. Will you tell me what is in your mind?” + +And Glenthorne told him. “If this matter comes into court, Lord +Wraysbury, it will not only ruin my niece for life, it will be a very +serious thing for you, it will damage you greatly, and cause terrible +grief to your most worthy parents. I think it is worth a considerable +sacrifice, even from your own point of view, to prevent it reaching +that stage.” + +The man was showing his hand very plainly now. Wraysbury, with a face +as grave as his own, led him on. “In plain English, you suggest this +injured husband, as he pretends to be, can be bought off?” + +Glenthorne lowered his voice. “Between ourselves, my lord, I believe +it might be possible. As I have told you, he is a very greedy man; I +believe greed to be the predominant feature in his character. He will, +of course, go for heavy damages, and, with your well-known wealth, he +is likely to obtain them. I think it possible that, if you anticipated +those damages, as it were, made him a firm offer, he might withdraw +from the action. Of course, I cannot speak positively, but I think it +would be worth trying.” + +“I could say nothing on that point until I had consulted with my own +solicitors, Shelford & Taylor. You will understand that.” + +“Quite,” agreed Glenthorne. “Shelford & Taylor, a most respectable +firm, their reputation is second to none. But, although I have the +highest respect for my profession, may I suggest that, in certain +cases, lawyers are not always the best judges? I think in the present +instance the advice of a man of the world would be more helpful to +you. Of course, for all I know to the contrary, this firm may be men +of the world as well as solicitors. In that case I have very little +doubt as to how they would advise you.” + +“You think they would advise me to pay hush-money to this person. And +do you happen to know at what price he values his fancied wrongs?” +asked Wraysbury in a sarcastic tone. The reply confirmed his +conviction that Glenthorne was in the plot as well, and had come for +the purpose of sounding him. + +“I can give you some indication, I think. When my niece told me the +painful story, I felt it incumbent on me to do something, to use my +best endeavours to avert the impending catastrophe. Edwards is staying +at the _Cecil_, that was the address he sent to me the day after he +had left Curzon Street. I did not call upon him at once; I thought it +wiser to give him time for his anger to cool down. I used all the +arguments I could think of to dissuade him from the drastic course he +had resolved upon. I met with a very stubborn resistance, as I +expected. But my impression when I left was that he would abandon the +idea of a divorce, if a sufficient sum were offered him. In that case +he would never live with his wife again, but settle upon her a quite +decent income.” + +“And what is his idea of a sufficient sum?” queried Wraysbury. + +“I am sorry to say a very high one. For my own part, I thought an +amount round about fifty thousand would meet the case. He laughed at +me, and said he wouldn’t move for twice that. If two hundred thousand +were offered, he would probably consider it, nothing less.” + +At this point in the interview, Wraysbury rose, controlling his +indignation with a great effort. “In an hour I am going to see +Shelford, and shall tell him what has passed between us.” + +Mr. Glenthorne took the hint and prepared to depart. “If the suit goes +on, I shall act for my niece, and all communications as regards +Edwards and yourself will be conducted by your own firms. But if you +entertain the idea of the course I have suggested, it might be as well +to deal through me. Edwards is a touchy fellow, and requires a good +deal of handling. Here is my card.” + +Wraysbury afterwards saw Shelford. When the whole details were +explained to him, including the tentative suggestion of Glenthorne, +whose name as a practising solicitor was unknown to him, he at once +agreed that it was a put-up job, out of which this shady practitioner +was to have his bit. They talked for a long time, and then the idea of +Grewgus occurred to Shelford. These people most probably belonged to +the underworld of which the detective had a considerable knowledge. He +advised him to see Grewgus at once, and fixed up the appointment. + +“So now you have the whole story,” said the unfortunate young nobleman +when he came to the end of it. “Two alternatives face me, and only +two; either I must pay this big sum to this infamous set of swindlers, +or suffer my name to be dragged through the mire.” + +“Which course does Shelford advise?” asked the detective. + +“He is almost as undecided as myself. I don’t pretend that the two +hundred thousand would break me; they know that as well as I do. But +it is unspeakably humiliating to pay such a big sum for what was not +even an act of folly, rather an absence of discretion. On the other +hand, if the action goes on----” + +The young man paused a moment to conquer his emotion. “You see, Mr. +Grewgus, I have a very vulnerable place and these thieves know it. I +am the only child of my parents, God-fearing, devout souls who have +lived lives unspotted from the world. If I alone were concerned, +conscious of my innocence, I would brave the shame and scandal of it. +But it would break their hearts. They would believe me, because they +know my good points as well as my bad ones, but they would know half +our world wouldn’t share their belief, and they would never hold up +their heads again.” + +And then Grewgus spoke. He had great sympathy with this manly young +fellow; he had heard his voice tremble when he spoke of his mother and +father. Thoughtless and careless perhaps, like many young men of his +age, but a loyal and affectionate son. + +“I don’t want to send you away from this office in a too optimistic +frame of mind; I cannot absolutely promise to get you out of the +clutch of these cunning blackmailers, but I’m going to have a devilish +good try. It is a most fortunate thing that Shelford has sent you to +me, instead of to one of my confrères, for it happens that through my +investigations on behalf of another client I know a great deal about +all these people which they would be very sorry to have come to light. +I think--mind you, I cannot be sure--that what I know will be +sufficient to deter them from going any further. Leave it to me. I +will arrange with Shelford to allow me to act upon your behalf. When I +have got that formal permission, I will see this man Edwards, and +throw my bombshell into his camp.” + +Lord Wraysbury was delighted with the turn of events. “But this is +simply wonderful,” he cried. “Do you know something of every one of +them?” + +Grewgus was delighted too, to such an extent that he relaxed his +habitual reticence. “Not so much about Edwards, except one very +damaging thing, but a good deal about Stormont, Mrs. Edwards, even the +smooth-tongued Glenthorne, who, of course, paid you that visit in the +interests of his pals. Well, good day, Lord Wraysbury. I shall lose no +time, I assure you. I expect to fire my bombshell to-morrow, and after +the interview I shall at once let you know what I expect the result +will be.” + +The young nobleman departed in much better spirits than he had +entered. Being a very generous fellow, he resolved that if Grewgus did +extricate him from his unpleasant position, he should receive a fee +that would astonish him. + +Having conferred with Mr. Shelford over the ’phone, the detective sent +a note to the _Hotel Cecil_ addressed to Edwards, in which he told +that person he was acting on behalf of Lord Wraysbury in a certain +matter and begged the favour of an appointment. + +The boy who took the letter was to wait for an answer, if Edwards was +in. He returned with it. + + + “Dear Sir,” wrote the _débonnaire_ person who belonged to so many + respectable clubs,--“In reply to yours, I beg to say that I shall be + at your disposal any time between eleven and twelve to-morrow. Yours + faithfully, Bertram Edwards.” + + +The detective smiled grimly as he wondered if this elegant crook had +any idea of what was in store for him. Hardly. He probably conjectured +that the detective was paying him a visit for the purpose of beating +him down. + +Before he went to the _Cecil_, he paid a flying visit to Lydon at his +office and told him what had passed between himself and Wraysbury on +the previous day. He had no hesitation in doing this, as it had been +agreed that he should watch what was going on at Curzon Street on +Lydon’s behalf. + +It was, of course, what they had expected from the day when the young +nobleman had attended Mrs. Edwards’ reception. + +“I’m glad we have got confirmation,” remarked the detective. “But I do +wish we could have directly implicated Stormont in it, that he had, +for instance, taken the rôle in it played by Glenthorne, alias +Whitehouse.” + +“We can guess he was at the back of it anyhow,” continued Grewgus. +“Rather amusing his being at that first dinner. I expect he couldn’t +resist the pleasure of hobnobbing with such a distinguished person as +Wraysbury. But I think we have got enough against Stormont now, with +the help of our venal friend Newcombe. He has kept himself pretty well +in the background in this affair, but we have sufficient proof that he +is the friend of blackmailers. And a man is known by the company he +keeps.” + +“Quite true. Well, now that I know this, I shall tell Jasper Stormont +at the earliest opportunity. I am staying with him at Brighton. I +haven’t told you before, but I may as well tell you now, I am engaged +to Jasper’s daughter. He is a bank official in China and she has been +living with her uncle since she was a child. She is now with her +parents at Brighton, and she must never return to the criminal +atmosphere of Effington.” + +Grewgus had learned the fact of the engagement from Newcombe, but he +affected to hear it for the first time. He fully concurred in the +young man’s determination that she should not return to Effington. + +Later on, he was shown into a private sitting-room where he found Mr. +Bertram Edwards, looking as smart and gentlemanly as ever. He could +not help thinking that this elegant young crook, with his charming +manners, must be a great asset to the gang. If he did not move in the +most select circles like Wraysbury, it was evident, from what Lydon +had told him of the Curzon Street party, that he had a foothold in +quite respectable society. + +“You have come about this wretched Wraysbury matter, I understand?” he +said in his pleasant, urbane tones. + +The detective intimated that this was the object of his visit. + +“And have you anything to propose, Mr. Grewgus?” + +“My client, Lord Wraysbury, has received a sort of unofficial +intimation from a man named Glenthorne, who claims to be the lady’s +uncle, that if the sum of two hundred thousand pounds is paid to you, +you will abandon proceedings. I beg to tell you, Mr. Edwards, I shall +advise his lordship not to pay you a single farthing.” + +Edwards tried to assume an expression of indifference, but it was easy +to see he was taken aback by this blunt declaration. + +“In that case, sir, the action will proceed, and I shall go for heavy +damages. I am not going to permit a young sprig of the nobility to +violate the sanctity of my home, without making him smart for it in +the only place where he can feel it--in his pocket.” + +Grewgus bent upon the dandified man his very penetrating and +expressive glance. “This is a business interview, Mr. Edwards, and +there is no necessity for heroics. You know as well as I do that Lord +Wraysbury is quite innocent of any desire to violate the sanctity of +your home, or, for the matter of that, the home of anybody. He’s not +that sort of man. Let me warn you that if you do proceed with this +action, it is at your own peril and that of the lady who bears your +name.” + +“My own peril! What the devil do you mean?” blustered Edwards. But, in +spite of his assumed bravado, Grewgus saw an unhealthy pallor creeping +over his usually high-coloured cheek. + +Again that penetrating gaze, that distinct and deliberate utterance: +“I don’t know very much about you at present, Mr. Edwards; I have no +doubt I shall add something more to my knowledge shortly. One little +thing I do know, that you were in Paris a short time before the +discovery of the dead body of Léon Calliard in the river Meuse. And +that every day you were meeting the woman who is now Mrs. Edwards in +the outskirts of the city.” + +He paused, expecting a bold-faced disclaimer. But it did not come. For +the moment, the man was stricken dumb. + +“Of the woman now calling herself your wife, I know a great deal more, +under her different names of Elise Makris, Zillah Mayhew, Miss +Glenthorne. I also know a fair amount about your friend Stormont. And +the same applies to another friend of yours, Glenthorne, otherwise +John Whitehouse. Have I said enough?” + +Still there was no reply; the man could not find speech, and he had +aged in those few seconds. + +“Please understand me once and for all. If, in a reckless moment, you +persist in this baseless charge against my client and your wife, who +is your accomplice in the matter, I go to Scotland Yard and give my +information, which, as I have told you, is rather extensive.” + +Edwards rose to his feet and pointed with a shaking hand to the door. + +“Leave the room, you wretched spy. Tell your client the action will +proceed,” he shouted with a last attempt at bravado. + +Grewgus laughed derisively, and flung at him a Parthian shot as he +left. + +“Don’t forget when you reckon up the pros and cons that the Paris +police are still investigating the case of Léon Calliard, the +murdered jeweller.” + +As he walked along the Strand, Grewgus felt very satisfied with +himself. In spite of Edwards’ bluff, he felt sure that he had won the +day. + +And presently a man brushed past him as he was within a few yards of +Charing Cross Station, walking at a rapid pace; it was the man he had +just left. + +As he hastily crossed the road at Villiers Street, Grewgus had a +sudden idea that he was going to the telegraph office to dispatch a +wire. He could have sent it from the _Cecil_, of course, but no doubt +he had good reasons for not doing so. + +Grewgus was a past-master in the art of shadowing. Behind the hurrying +man came the tall, thin form of the detective. And over his shoulder, +as he wrote the message, Grewgus read the words: “Stormont, Effington, +Surrey. It must be dropped. See me to-morrow without fail--Edwards.” + +After reading it, Grewgus crept stealthily away, and was in the street +again, while Edwards, unconscious that he had been watched, was +presenting the telegram at the counter. + +Circumstantial evidence, it is true, but of the very strongest +character. What did that wire mean? One thing, and one thing only. +Edwards had been so thoroughly frightened that he was afraid to go on +with the Wraysbury affair, had advised his friend Stormont of the +necessity of dropping it, and urged him to see him to-morrow to tell +him what had happened. It was convincing proof that Stormont was in +the plot. + + + + + CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE + +It was a couple of days before Lydon found an opportunity of +breaking to Jasper Stormont the painful news about his brother. In the +meantime he had received from Grewgus an account of the interview at +the _Cecil_, and the dispatch of the telegram to Effington. + +On his return to Brighton in the late afternoon, he was fortunate +enough to find his future father-in-law sitting alone in the lounge; +Gloria and her mother were out shopping. + +There was a somewhat worried expression on the banker’s face. “Had a +letter from Howard by the last post in,” he explained. “It looks to me +as if he were within measurable distance of the end we have foreseen +and predicted. He writes that the big _coup_ on which he was engaged +has unexpectedly fallen through, and this places him in a most awkward +predicament for the immediate future. He has made up his mind that he +must give up Effington, reluctant as he is to part from a place to +which he has become so attached. He adds, what I suppose we both +suspected, that it is heavily mortgaged, and that when a sale is +effected, there will be very little left for him. He has already +apprised my sister of the alteration in his fortunes, and begs me to +break it gently to Gloria. Somewhat to my surprise, he has made no +request for money. I suppose he finds the future so dark, that any +little help I could give him would be useless, and that he must make a +drastic change in his mode of life. I must own candidly, my sympathy +would be keener if his own insensate folly were not the cause of the +disaster.” + +Here was a splendid opportunity, thought Lydon. The big _coup_ on +which Stormont was engaged, which was to repair his tottering +fortunes, had failed to come off. It was easy to guess what the _coup_ +was--the extraction of that immense sum of money from young Wraysbury. +The abandonment of the prospect which had been nipped in the bud by +the visit of Grewgus to the _Hotel Cecil_ had brought him to the +ground. + +“There is something I have to say to you about your brother, Mr. +Stormont, something which I am sure will give you the greatest pain, +but which it is right you should hear. But this is too public a place, +and the ladies may return at any minute. Do you mind coming up to my +room?” + +Wondering and uneasy, the banker went with him upstairs. When they +were seated, the young man told him all the details with which the +reader is acquainted. Jasper Stormont listened with a set and rigid +face, as Lydon explained to him how his suspicions had first taken +definite shape on the arrival on the scene of Zillah Mayhew, whom he +had at once associated, from the two facts of the scar and the +sapphire pendant, with Elise Makris; of his engagement of Grewgus to +follow up the clues and the various discoveries of that zealous +detective, down to the latest episode in connection with Wraysbury, +and the despatch of the wire from Edwards to Howard Stormont, which +clearly involved the owner of Effington Hall in the dastardly plot. + +“If I have not explained it as lucidly as I might have done,” were the +concluding words of the long recital, “I can take you to Grewgus, if +you wish it, and he will, I am sure, give you a much more coherent +account than I have been able to do.” + +Jasper Stormont lifted his haggard face: “There is no necessity, +Leonard. You would not say these things if they were not true, and I +can quite understand how, even before the advent of this woman, +Howard’s unnatural reticence about his business affairs had created in +you a feeling of uneasiness. I had that same feeling myself.” + +Lydon drew a deep breath: “Ah, the same thing struck you, then?” + +“Yes, I was suspicious, but very far from guessing the ghastly truth. +I came to the conclusion that my brother had spoken truly when he said +he was a financier, but he was not engaged in the highest walks of his +profession. I guessed he was concerned with enterprises which men of +strict integrity would describe as shady, but that in pursuing them he +kept well within the compass of the law. That he bore to a financier +of high repute much the same sort of relation that a blood-sucking +moneylender bears to a reputable banker.” + +There was a long pause before Jasper Stormont spoke again. “And now I +must tell you something that would never have passed my lips but for +what you have told me, and which proves that moral turpitude was +engrained in the man from his early years. You know that he went to +Australia? Do you know why he went?” + +Yes, Lydon did. He had refrained from telling Jasper a certain portion +of the revelations made by the Colonial, Tom Newcombe, from a feeling +of delicacy. His reply was that he knew he had got into some trouble +about money, but was not aware of the precise nature of it. + +“Well, I will tell you. My father, who, although poorly blessed with +the world’s goods, was a man of the strictest rectitude, and highly +respected by all who knew him, procured him a post in a most +respectable firm where, unfortunately, he had the handling of money. +You can guess the sequel. To gratify his always extravagant tastes, of +which Effington Hall is an illustration, he diverted several sums to +his own use, displaying in their appropriation a remarkable ingenuity +and cunning. When his defalcations came to light, the firm sent for my +father. But for the respect in which they held him they would have +prosecuted his son. My father and I between us--I had not very much +money then--paid back the sum abstracted. We saved him from +prosecution, on the condition that he should go out to Australia.” + +“Did Mrs. Barnard know of this?” asked Lydon. He had never yet been +able to make up his mind whether this self-contained, rather silent +woman knew anything of her brother’s actual pursuits. Jasper +Stormont’s next words solved the problem. + +“Not a word. She had been recently married, and lived with her husband +at a considerable distance. It was easy to keep the affair from her. I +may say, in passing, that she is as honest as Howard is the reverse. + +“He went to Australia, keeping up a fairly regular correspondence with +his father, in which he made out that he had seen the wickedness of +his ways, and was in honest employment. Of course, at that distance, +we had no means of testing his assertions. He and I had never been +particularly good friends, and his proved dishonesty had snapped the +frail bond between us. We never wrote to each other for years. + +“And then one day the long silence was broken. I married and went out +to China, where I had secured a good post. Our parents had died before +he returned to England. The little money my father had accumulated out +of a continuous struggle with fortune was left to my sister, as being +most in need of it. One day I received a long letter from Howard in +which he told me that, having made a little money in Australia, he had +determined to come back to the old country, and see what he could do +with the small capital he had saved. He had gone in for finance, of +course in a very modest way, and he had no reason to complain of his +success. + +“It is perhaps not greatly to my credit when I tell you that I am very +hard against evil-doers, offenders against the moral law. I had not +forgiven that early transgression, and I would have preferred not to +renew relations with my brother. But I reflected that such sentiments +were unchristian, and if the man was now walking in the straight path, +it was not for me to withhold the hand of fellowship. I answered the +letter, and from that day we corresponded more or less regularly. + +“As that correspondence proceeded, it was apparent that he was +prospering greatly. I was not surprised at that, for he had plenty of +brains, and if he chose to employ them in a right direction, I saw no +reason why he should not succeed. Mrs. Barnard’s husband had died, +leaving her a small annuity which, joined to what my father had +bequeathed her, formed a modest competence. Howard had pressed her to +make her home with him, as he was a bachelor. He would not accept a +penny from her towards the housekeeping; her own small income she was +to look upon as pin-money.” + +At this point in the history of his renewed relations with his +brother, Jasper Stormont confessed that Howard’s generous treatment of +his sister had strongly impressed him in his favour. It was more than +probable that that early lesson had sunk into his soul, and he had +really undergone a process of complete moral regeneration. + +And then had come the request to adopt Gloria, and make her welfare +one of the principal objects of his life. That further established him +in the good graces of a brother who was disposed to be critical. +Criminal as he had been, there were some good instincts in him, and +these he had displayed to the full in the case of these two members of +his family. + +“It will be a terrible shock to Gloria when she is told, as told she +must be,” said the banker. “She is a shrewd girl and you can see she +has a sort of pitying contempt for some of his weaknesses, his +extravagance, his vulgar love of ostentation. But she realizes he has +shown unexampled kindness to her; if she could be spoiled, he has done +his best to spoil her. I wish I could spare her sensitive nature the +shock, but that cannot be. She must never go back to that man’s roof. +So far as my influence goes, she must hold no further communication +with him. The money he has spent on her during these several years I +shall refund to him. As I doubt if he will be in a position to dictate +terms, I may make it a condition that he shall cut away from his evil +associates. Heaven knows if he would keep such a promise. I fear the +spirit of evil is too strong in his crooked nature.” + +For some little time the banker sat in agitated meditation. Then he +suddenly roused himself from his painful thoughts and spoke again. “I +feel as if my own small world had tumbled about my ears, Leonard; you +will understand that. There is one thing we have got to face first and +foremost as a consequence of this hideous discovery. Gloria cannot +become your wife.” + +The young man looked at him in astonishment. “But, my dear Mr. +Stormont, in the name of justice, why? Do you think me such a cur as +to visit the crimes of her relative upon a pure and innocent girl? +Gloria has promised herself to me. Depend upon it I shall exact that +promise.” + +But Jasper Stormont could be a very obstinate man when he chose, and +he held very rigid views of what was right and what was wrong. “No +child of mine shall carry her tainted name into an honourable family,” +he said firmly. “And you cannot get away from it that he has +communicated a taint to the whole of his kindred. Besides, how do we +know what is going to be the end of it? How can we be sure that, long +as he has succeeded in evading justice, it will not overtake him one +of these fine days. Even if I could succeed in persuading him to lead +an honest life for the future, how can we guarantee the past? You say +the Paris police have not yet given up their researches into the +mystery of the jeweller’s death. At any moment something may come to +light in that direction. No, my dear boy, I appreciate your nobility +of choice, but Gloria must give you your freedom. If she is her +father’s daughter, I think she will take the same view as I do.” + +Lydon was not so sure. In his own mind, he thought that love would +prevail. For a long time they wrangled over the point, the decision +being finally reached that Gloria should act exactly as her feelings +prompted her. Her father would state his views, but he would not use +his influence over her to adopt them. + +It was natural they should still talk further over the subject, +painful as the discussion was to both. + +“That _coup_ he pretended to be the outcome of some financial +speculation was clearly the mulcting of this young simpleton of that +tremendous sum,” remarked the banker presently. “The fact that it had +fallen through as soon as he received that telegram from his +accomplice proves that. And yet I do not see, if it had come off, that +it would have made his position as sure as he told me. I do not know +in what proportion these miscreants divide their villainous gains. +There were certainly four of them in it, Howard, his friend +Whitehouse, and the husband and wife, to say nothing of the gang who +I suppose have an over-riding percentage on everything. Even if Howard +got a quarter of the amount, the interest on that would not keep a +place like Effington Hall going.” + +Lydon smiled ironically. “Would a man of your brother’s temperament +bother about such things as investments and interest? If he received +that sum, he would simply draw on it as long as it lasted, trusting to +further luck to replenish his waning store.” + +“Horrible idea,” said the banker with a shudder. “But I think you have +seen more clearly than I did, Leonard. To me, the idea of a man living +on his capital is unthinkable. Well, I shall make these awful +disclosures to Gloria after dinner; she shall have a little more +peace, poor child. And, later on, you and she shall have a +heart-to-heart talk.” + +That talk took place later on in the evening, when the young couple +went for a stroll. At first Gloria, tearful and agitated, took her +father’s view. It was impossible she could intrude herself into his +life, with such a ghastly secret in the background, a secret that in +all probability could not be kept indefinitely in the background. It +would break her heart to part with him, but, for his own sake, she +must insist upon giving him back his freedom. If he was angry with her +now, he would be grateful in the future. So she pleaded amidst her +plentiful tears. + +But by degrees he wore down her resolution, dictated by the judgment, +not the heart. If Howard Stormont’s past should ever be revealed to an +astonished world, he would help her with all his might to live the +hateful thing down. When they returned to the hotel, he had proved the +victor, and announced the result to Jasper, who, loyal to his promise, +acquiesced, if he found it impossible to approve. + +“I shall come up to London in the morning with you,” he said to the +young man, “and ascertain on the ’phone what are Howard’s movements. I +should say that, as his _coup_ has failed, he will be bewailing his +ill-fortune at Effington. He will hardly have the heart to resume his +usual habits for a few days.” + +And so it proved. Mrs. Barnard, who answered the ’phone call, +explained that her brother was rather out of sorts, and Jasper would +find him at Effington at almost any hour of the day. If he went out, +it would only be for a stroll in the grounds or to the village. + +Jasper Stormont went down after luncheon; he had not committed himself +to any particular time. To one thing he had firmly made up his mind; +he would not take another meal at Effington Hall, in the society of +the man he had the misfortune to call brother. He took a taxi at the +station and drove in due course through the big gates of the stately +mansion, which he devoutly hoped he was entering for the last time. + +The owner was out, the new butler informed him, but was expected back +shortly. Mrs. Barnard was in. + +She was pleased to see her brother. “But why couldn’t you come to +luncheon?” she asked him. “Surely you are going to dine and stop the +night?” + +She had received him in her own little boudoir, in which she wrote so +many letters. “This may be the last time I shall see you here,” she +remarked, not without symptoms of emotion. “Howard told me he had +written to you about his misfortunes. For a long time I have feared +this would be the end of his reckless extravagance. Well, it has come, +and the only thing to do is to face it as well as one can. Thank +Heaven, it won’t affect dear Gloria very much personally, but I am +sure she is terribly grieved for us.” + +Jasper Stormont was a lovable enough man in many ways, but the sight +of Effington, with its pretence of wealth, had made him feel very +hard. Still, he could not show hardness to this poor woman who had +lived for so long in a fool’s paradise. + +“She feels intense pity for _you_,” he said, laying a strong emphasis +on the pronoun. + +Mrs. Barnard looked wonderingly at him, and a flush dyed her face. +“What does that mean? Has she no pity for poor Howard, who gratified +her every whim, and spoiled her from the day she entered the house? I +will not believe it of her. He has been weak, but not criminal, +Jasper.” + +And then Jasper raised his voice in righteous wrath. “My poor sister, +you little knew, I have only known for the last few hours, that this +brother of ours has been leading a double life. He is one of the +biggest criminals that ever walked the face of the earth.” + +Mrs. Barnard’s face froze into a look of horror. If any other man had +spoken those awful words, she would have told him he lied. But she +knew Jasper’s character too well. He would not have made such a charge +if it were not true. + +As briefly as possible he told her what he knew, through that chance +opening of the letter to Zillah Mayhew by Lydon. The unhappy woman +burst into a passionate fit of weeping. + +“Jasper, you must take me away with you when you leave,” she said when +she had recovered herself a little. “I could not stay another night +under the roof after what you have told me. The associate of thieves, +blackmailers, a potential murderer himself. It is like some hideous +nightmare.” + +And at that moment Howard Stormont walked into the room, with a smile +of welcome on his harassed countenance. Perhaps he thought his brother +had come to help him in his financial difficulties. + +But as he took in the scene, the still weeping woman, Jasper standing +beside her with a hard and inflexible look upon his face, he knew that +the visit portended nothing of the kind. + +He looked from one to the other and his own face grew paler as he +noted his sister’s averted countenance. + +“What the devil does all this mean? And you, Jasper, why do you refuse +to take my hand?” he cried in a harsh voice that showed traces of +fear. + +At a sign from her brother, Mrs. Barnard withdrew, and the two men +were left alone--Jasper stern, rigid; Howard with terrible forebodings +in his guilty soul. + + + + + CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO + +Howard was the first to break the strained silence; he spoke in a +toneless voice. “I Suppose you will presently tell me what all this +means, the reason of this extraordinary attitude. I suppose you have +been talking over the state of affairs with Maud, and are angry with +me for having made such a muddle of things. You will stay to dinner, +of course?” + +Swiftly came the reply: “If I would not take your hand, is it likely I +would accept your hospitality? I hope never to see you, nor set foot +in this house of evil, again. Howard Stormont, I know you for what you +are; I know the double life you have been leading since you left +England and since you returned to it. I know you to be the associate +of criminals, yourself not the least criminal amongst them.” + +The face of the detected crook went livid: “We can’t talk here,” he +said hoarsely. “Come down to my room and let us have it out.” + +They went into the handsomely furnished study. As soon as they got +there, he opened the door of a small sideboard, from which he +extracted a bottle of uncorked brandy. He filled a tumbler half full +of the raw spirit and gulped it down. For the moment, the potent +draught steadied his nerves, and he sank into a chair, and looked with +a certain amount of hardihood at his brother. + +“Now let me hear what you do know, or think you know.” He had made no +attempt to repel Jasper’s charge. He knew the man’s cautious character +too well to think he would speak as he had done, except on evidence +that was satisfactory and convincing. + +“I know of your association with the woman known at present as Mrs. +Edwards, who has gone under the different names of Elise Makris, +Zillah Mayhew, Zillah Glenthorne, the woman who was connected with the +tragedy at Nice in which poor Hugh Craig figured, the woman you +dispatched to Paris along with the man Edwards to carry out your +designs against the rich jeweller Calliard, who was robbed and +murdered.” + +Howard Stormont interrupted in a choking voice. He knew it was useless +to protest innocence. “Murder was never intended. The fool who carried +out the job exceeded his instructions.” + +“Do you think I should believe a word you said?” was Jasper’s scornful +comment. “Lying, even perjury, would be a venial offence in the eyes +of one so steeped in crime. But even if the murder of Calliard cannot +be laid directly at your door, what have you to say to your own +attempt on the life of your old Australian associate, Newcombe, the +man whom you feared for his knowledge of your past?” + +“I made no attempt upon his life,” was the dogged reply. “I only +wanted to give the drunken fool a fright.” + +“A miserable lie,” said Jasper sternly. “You miscalculated the dose of +your devilish poison, or the man would be dead now. For some days he +hung between life and death. And I also know that you were concerned +in this last dastardly attempt to extort money from young Wraysbury, +with the help of the two confederates who had carried out your schemes +in Paris.” + +Stormont rose and helped himself to another dose of brandy. “And how +did you find all this out?” he asked presently. + +“That is my business,” was the curt answer. + +It was some time before the wretched man spoke again. “I think I can +guess how the information came. That young Lydon had his suspicions +from the day he met Zillah here, and put a detective on our track. My +sister told me she had given him some letters to post which I had +forgotten to take with me; one of them was to her. He opened it and +what he read gave him the clue, and he set this fellow Grewgus to +work. But what beats me is how he suspected Zillah; he had never seen +her. When he and Craig were at Nice, she took good care to keep out of +his way.” + +Jasper did not enlighten his brother on this point, and presently +Howard put to him, point-blank, the question: “And now that you know +all this, what are you and this precious young Lydon going to do? Do +you intend to play the part of virtuous citizens and denounce me to +the police?” + +“We ought to do it, if we performed our duty,” said Jasper coldly. +“But I have a proposition to make to you. Your letter shows me that +you are broke to the world. Your interview with your confederate +Edwards, after Grewgus had foiled his plot against Wraysbury, must +have convinced you that a continuance of this criminal life is fraught +with peril; that at any moment Nemesis may overtake you.” + +Stormont looked up sharply, “How did you know that I had an interview +with Edwards?” he asked, in evident surprise. + +But Jasper declined to enlighten him. “Again I repeat, that is my +business. This precious young Lydon, as you call him, has behaved like +the honourable Englishman he is. I told him emphatically that he must +give up Gloria, that he must not connect himself with a family that +had this black stain upon its records. Gloria took the same view, and +insisted upon releasing him, although she told me that to do so would +break her heart.” + +For the first time in their interview, the hardened criminal showed an +overwhelming sense of shame. “Poor Gloria!” he muttered in a broken +voice. “Poor Gloria! It is indeed hard upon her. And Lydon would not +accept his dismissal. Well, I will admit he is a noble fellow.” + +“I am glad you do him that justice. Well, my proposition is this. It +is horrible to me to think that my innocent and unsuspecting child has +lived all these years upon the proceeds of infamy. The money you have +expended upon her for something like fourteen years I will restore to +you on the condition that you abandon this life, and break away for +ever from your criminal associates. Even then, there is not absolute +safety. At any moment the past may yield up its secrets, and all the +world may know you for what you are.” + +Howard Stormont kept silence. His active brain was no doubt weighing +the advantages and disadvantages of his brother’s suggestion. + +“As I shall be very liberal in my estimate of what she cost you,” +continued Jasper; “you could exist upon the interest of the capital +sum I should hand over to you. But you are not without brains, and you +might use that money to embark in some honest business.” + +“It is a very generous offer,” Howard said at length. “And I am very +disposed to accept It without further reflection. Still, I would like +to go into matters a little closer first. I admit your visit here +to-day has taken the courage out of me. You will laugh at me, I +suppose, and consider it a further proof of my hypocrisy when I say +that I would prefer not to live upon your bounty. But I should like to +reckon up what I am likely to get out of the sale of Effington, when +the mortgages have been paid off.” + +“It is not a question of bounty; it is an act of reparation to my own +conscience,” said Jasper hastily. “I would prefer to return the money +to its rightful owners, if I could find them. But that is impossible. +If you refuse to accept this sum, I shall devote it to charity, so as +to make some sort of amends.” + +“Give me till to-morrow, and I will let you know definitely. I presume +you have told Maud?” + +“Certainly,” answered Jasper. “She is as much horrified as I was when +I learned the horrible truth. She is coming back with me.” + +A ghastly smile spread over Stormont’s white face. “It is what one +might expect. Rats always leave the sinking ship, don’t they?” + +Jasper made no reply to this cynical remark, which showed the +naturally hard and callous nature of the man. He moved towards the +door with a few last words. “I must have your decision not later than +the time you have stated.” + +He went out into the hall and summoned a servant to find Mrs. Barnard +and ask her to come to him in her boudoir. He had kept the taxi +waiting. As soon as she was ready, they could quit this house of evil +where the owner of it had plotted and thought out his criminal +schemes. + +She came to him ready dressed for her journey. She was taking with her +a couple of small trunks; the rest of her belongings, which had all +been bought with her own money, could be sent after her. Jasper +explained that he was taking her down to Brighton, where she could +make a long stay till she had made her plans for the future. Together +they went down into the hall. + +And suddenly, in a burst of womanly feeling, she whispered to her +brother, “Vile as he is, I cannot leave him without a word.” + +She turned, and walking swiftly to the study, opened the door and +entered. Howard was sitting huddled up in his chair, looking a ghastly +object of misery and despair. She laid her hand lightly on his arm for +an instant. “God forgive you, Howard, and turn your heart before it is +too late.” + +His dry lips muttered a faint “Good-bye,” and she turned from him and +rejoined Jasper. + +They got back to Brighton in the evening, and in the private +sitting-room the banker explained to Lydon and his family what had +passed between the two men in that final visit to Effington. Leonard +was rejoiced that Mrs. Barnard had come back with her brother. He had +never quite been able to make up his mind about her, whether or not +she was in Howard’s confidence; but her action showed that, like her +niece, she had never guessed his guilty secret. + +The next morning, Jasper Stormont, according to his usual custom, went +for a stroll before breakfast, and on his return to the hotel found a +telegram awaiting him. It was from the butler at Effington Hall and +informed him that his brother had committed suicide early that +morning. He had thought he would never set foot in Effington again, +but in the face of such news he must go there at once. + +When he reached the house, the butler gave him the details. On +entering the study, one of the housemaids discovered her master lying +dead in his easy-chair, a bottle of brandy standing beside his elbow, +an empty pistol lying on the floor to which it had dropped after he +had shot himself. He had been dead some few hours, the doctor said, +when she had found him. At the time of his suicide, for the +perpetration of which he had fortified himself with large doses of +alcohol, the household was fast asleep, and nobody had heard the shot. +Jasper could only conclude that the wretched man had come to the +conclusion life was played out for him, and had nerved himself to make +his exit from the world on which he had preyed for so long. + +He had been careful to preserve appearances. He had written an open +letter lying on the table in which he stated that utter financial ruin +had come upon him, and that at his age he lacked the courage to begin +the battle of life over again. He gave the address of his brother at +Brighton, and requested that he should be communicated with at once. + +There was a good deal of sympathy in the neighbourhood, where his +benefactions and lavish hospitality had made him popular. The inquest +was held in due course, and the usual compassionate verdict recorded. +When Howard Stormont was laid to rest nobody guessed that the body of +an arch-criminal was being committed to the earth. Jasper Stormont’s +visit was explained on the grounds that he had come to take his sister +for a long stay at Brighton. + +So the future was secure. A sum was offered for Effington Hall which, +after payment of the various charges and debts, left over a balance of +about a couple of thousand pounds. Stormont had left no will, and his +property therefore devolved upon his next of kin. But as none of them +would touch a farthing, Jasper made a donation of the money to a +necessitous hospital. + +It was a great relief to Jasper and his sister that he had solved the +problem of the future in the way he had, before the old instincts came +to life again and led him to the commission of further crime. But +tender-hearted Gloria sometimes shed tears when she remembered the +numerous acts of kindness to her, proving that even the basest of men +can possess some good qualities. + +Lord Wraysbury heard nothing further from Edwards’ solicitors. Grewgus +had settled that little matter, and for doing so he received a very +handsome cheque from the grateful young nobleman. The house and +furniture in Curzon Street were up for sale. Neither Edwards nor his +wife was any longer in residence there. Grewgus chuckled as he thought +this frustrated scheme must have cost the gang a pretty sum. + +Glenthorne had also suddenly left Ashstead Mansions, and abandoned his +solicitor’s practice. That interview of Grewgus with Edwards and the +suicide of Stormont seemed to have produced far-reaching consequences. +Edwards had disappeared and was not heard of at any of his usual +haunts, and the dark, handsome Zillah had vanished as suddenly as her +uncle. It looked like a wholesale dispersal of that portion of the +gang. + +Lydon and Grewgus settled up accounts. The detective informed his +client that the Paris police had given up the case of Léon Calliard, +after following several delusive clues. There was now practically no +chance that the details of the unfortunate man’s murder would ever be +known, unless he communicated the information he had acquired about +Edwards and Zillah. Even then, it would be almost impossible to +connect them with the affair. + +But of course Lydon strongly discountenanced such a step. One could +not take it without bringing Howard Stormont into the matter; it would +also involve Jasper, who would have to testify that his brother had +practically admitted his participation in it. + +“Best to let sleeping dogs lie, for the sake of the family,” said the +young man. “If one did discover the actual murderer, it would not +bring the unfortunate Calliard to life, and it would inflict the +greatest pain upon innocent people.” + +Grewgus agreed, rather reluctantly. He had the true instincts of the +sleuth-hound; he loved to hunt his quarry down. He would dearly have +liked to go to Scotland Yard, but he was bound to respect his client’s +wishes on the subject. All the same, he felt it was a tame sort of +inquiry which had not resulted in a triumphant finish. As a +consequence of it, Stormont had been driven to suicide, and the other +persons concerned had found it expedient to lie low for a while. But +for him, there was no public kudos in it. + +On the same day on which he squared up accounts with Lydon he came +face to face in the Strand with his old friend Tom Newcombe. The +gentleman’s appearance had altered very much. He had discarded his +beard and moustache, and a less keen eye than the detective’s might +have failed to recognize him. But Grewgus had a wonderful memory for +faces, and it required a very clever disguise to baffle him. They +exchanged greetings. + +“Hardly knew me, did you?” inquired the Colonial. “You see, I +clean-shaved myself directly after we had settled matters. I got out +of that house as soon as I could, but I was mortally afraid I might +run across Stormont, and he might get me into his clutches again. +Well, it’s all right now, he has passed in his checks. I can tell you +it was a relief when I saw it in the papers. I thought, as I read it, +that you might have had something to do with it.” + +“Perhaps I had, in a very indirect fashion,” was the cautious answer. + +“Well, he’s gone to where he wanted to send me. Gad, that man did make +me see red when I thought of his attempt to put me out of the way. +Many a time I’ve half made up my mind to sneak down to Effington and +plug him if I got the chance. But a bit of prudence stepped in, +fortunately. It wasn’t worth swinging for a fellow like that. And so +he came to a bad end, after all. It makes one think a bit, mister, it +does.” + +“It makes you think a bit, eh?” repeated the detective. “And what turn +do your thoughts take? The wages of sin is death, or something of that +sort?” + +“You’ve hit it,” said the Colonial, speaking with great seriousness. +“I told you my mother was a good woman; she did her best to bring me +up religious, but my father always scoffed at her for her pains. How +many times have I heard her use that very phrase; it has always stuck +in my memory. I thought of her a goodish bit when I was struggling +back to life. I began to feel quite sick of the past, and all the evil +I had done. But you know, mister, when you’ve once got into the +crooked life, it’s precious hard to get out of it. But now I’ve got +that bit of money, I’ve made up my mind to go straight.” + +“I’m exceedingly glad to hear it,” said Grewgus heartily. + +“Most crooks come to a bad end. Stormont, who was clever and cunning +as the devil, took his life at the finish, and most of ’em overreach +themselves and get into quod. So I’m making a fresh start. Till I read +that in the papers, I was going out to Canada, for fear of Stormont. +But now he’s out of the way, I shall stick in the old country. I shall +buy a snug little business, a tobacconist’s by preference. Gosh, it +will be pleasant to pass a policeman without fearing he’s going to lay +his hand on you.” + +They chatted for a little time longer, and at parting Grewgus offered +Newcombe his hand, which the Colonial shook heartily. Since he had now +resolved to lead an honest life, the detective felt he was justified +in showing him this mark of esteem. + +He got back to his office about four o’clock and busied himself with +his correspondence. In the midst of it, a clerk entered and said that +a lady wished to speak with him for a few minutes, but would not give +her name. + +Rather impatiently, for he was very occupied with his letters, he +ordered the visitor to be shown in. + +What was his astonishment when the mysterious lady entered, and he +recognized in the dark, handsome young woman who had refused to give +her name, Elise Makris, otherwise Mrs. Edwards. + + + + + CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE + +The handsome young woman addressed the detective with the charm of +manner that had no doubt beguiled so many men, notably Hugh Craig and +the susceptible Léon Calliard. + +“I take it from what you told my husband, Bertram Edwards, that you +are acquainted with me--at any rate, my appearance. I suppose, Mr. +Grewgus, you must have been in Paris at the same time I was there.” + +“That is quite true,” was the answer. Grewgus had certainly formed the +opinion at one time that the young woman’s sudden departure had been +occasioned by her discovery of the fact that she was being watched. +But her next words settled this point once and for all. + +“And I suppose you followed me about from place to place. It is rather +strange that I did not spot you; as I flatter myself that I am rather +a keen observer. From what you know of my career, you may be sure I +have had to cultivate the quality of alertness. You must be very +clever at your business. I should have said it would be impossible for +anybody to shadow me continuously for even a day without my being +aware of it.” + +Grewgus smiled. “I think I may say, without undue vanity, I am rather +clever at it. In your case, I took somewhat elaborate precautions, as +I felt I was dealing with a very resourceful woman. I shadowed you +under perhaps a dozen different disguises. Well, Mrs. Edwards, I need +hardly say I am very astonished to see you in my office. I suppose you +will tell me in good time the object of your visit.” + +A very hard look came over the handsome face. “I need not keep you +waiting a moment longer. My object is revenge.” + +“Against your former associates in general, or some particular +person?” suggested the detective quietly. + +“Against my former associates, with one exception, I have no rancour. +They did their best to make my life pleasant, so far as such a life +can be made pleasant. I was one of those unfortunate creatures whose +mode of existence is determined for them at a very early age by +others, from whose domination it is impossible to escape. My father +was a crook; my mother, so long as she retained her good looks, +followed the same calling. And I was trained to follow in her +footsteps. You can say it was easy to break away, to separate from +these evil counsellors, and earn my living in some honest way. Mr. +Grewgus, it was not easy. More than once I have tried and I had to go +back.” + +Grewgus looked at her curiously. She had spoken very calmly up to the +last few sentences, and then her manner had suddenly changed. Her +voice had in it a vibrating ring; her attempt to break away, and the +futility of it, had aroused in her very bitter memories. + +“They would not allow me to sever my bonds,” she continued, speaking +in the same intense tones. “Once I thought I had succeeded, and hidden +myself away from them, I had taken a situation as a shop assistant. +Somehow, they tracked me down. One of the gang went to the proprietor, +and representing himself as a police official, warned him that he had +a thief in his service, a girl who had lately come out of gaol. It was +a lie. I have deserved prison many times, but luck has kept me out of +it; but it was a lie that served its purpose. I was dismissed there +and then, turned out into the street with the few miserable francs I +had saved out of my poor wages. My mother was waiting near by to take +me back. I think in a way she pitied me, but she told me it was +useless struggling against them; they would never let me go. I was too +useful to them.” + +“Your natural advantages proved, no doubt, a great asset to them,” +remarked the detective. “Your appearance made you an ideal decoy.” + +“Yes, good looks are not invariably a blessing,” said the beautiful +young woman with a melancholy smile. “Had I been an ordinary-looking +girl, they would have allowed me to remain in that humble shop, and +troubled their heads no further about me. They were the cause of my +being devoted to a life of evil by which I enriched others more than +myself. But the greatest curse of all which they brought upon me was +my association with the man you lately called upon, my husband, +Bertram Edwards.” + +Her voice, as she spoke the name, was full of passion and hatred. +Grewgus guessed now why she had called upon him. + +“You know something about him, a great deal too much for his comfort, +but you cannot know the utter callousness of his brutal nature. +Stormont was hard and ruthless in a way, where he encountered +opposition, but he had his good points, he was genial, he was +generous. If you knew how to handle him, you could get on well with +him. The same might be said of John Whitehouse, who for a long time +has passed as my uncle, although there is not the most remote +relationship between us. But after the first few months of glamour +were over, I could never find a single redeeming quality in Edwards. I +think the man had all the vices it was possible to amalgamate in a +single temperament.” + +“You were in love with this man, then, when you married him?” + +“Passionately,” was the reply. “Nobody could have been more successful +than he in masking a vile nature under a prepossessing exterior. But +even in the early days of our honeymoon he showed the cloven hoof. +During the whole of our married existence my life has been one long +experience of infamy, insult, brutality and outrage. And the love I +bore him has turned to a hatred so intense that I would risk anything +to procure him the punishment he deserves.” + +So, when she had shown Wraysbury the bruise on her arm, and told him +her husband was a brute and a bully, she had been speaking the truth, +thought Grewgus. + +“Have you come to me with the idea of getting him punished?” asked the +detective. He would have dearly loved to aid her in such a laudable +object but for the express wishes of Lydon to let sleeping dogs lie. + +“That is my sole reason. I can give you so much evidence about him and +put you in the way of corroborating it without having to appear +myself. But, of course, a wife is not allowed to give evidence against +her husband in a criminal charge.” + +“That is the worst of it,” said the artful detective, who wanted to +get all he could out of her, to turn her hatred to his own advantage. +“But let me know some of the details, and I will see if anything can +be done. Let us start with the murder of Calliard. Was Edwards the +murderer?” + +Reluctantly, as it seemed, she had to admit he was not. In the course +of her confessions on the subject, she confirmed what Stormont had +insisted on to his brother, that murder had never been intended. +Edwards had not been on in the final act of the tragedy. As at first +resolved upon, it had been a case of simple robbery. She had not even +sought the jeweller’s society with the object of blackmailing him, but +solely to ascertain his movements. + +After she had left Paris, two members of the gang had been dispatched +to Brussels to wait for the unfortunate man and entrap him. In +rendering him senseless, one of the miscreants had given him too +strong a dose of chloroform, and it proved fatal. To cover up their +crime, they had thrown his body in the river. She had learned these +details afterwards from Whitehouse, but she did not know the names of +either of the men. Stormont, who was the leading spirit of the gang, +and had originally marked down Calliard for a victim, was alone +acquainted with their identity. It was always his policy to keep the +subordinate members of the association as far apart as possible. They +worked in little coteries, and, in the majority of cases, one coterie +knew nothing of the other. + +But dearly as she would have loved to implicate Edwards in the +tragedy, she had to confess she could not do so. As a matter of fact +he was in Spain on other business when it happened. + +“Our married life would have been intolerable, but for the fact that +we did not spend a great deal of it together; when we did, I suffered +physically and mentally,” she explained at this point. “His vile +temper vented itself upon me on the slightest provocation, in spite of +the fact that both Stormont and Whitehouse frequently intervened on my +behalf, and remonstrated with him. When the plot against Wraysbury was +hatched, it was a necessary part of it that we should live together. +That was a time of terrible torture to me. When it failed, thanks to +your intervention, he wreaked his disappointment on me. On the day he +left England, frightened by your knowledge, he beat me almost into a +state of insensibility.” + +Was she exaggerating, or was Edwards such a monster as she made out? +But Grewgus, a shrewd judge of demeanour, guessed by her emotion, her +fervent accents, that she was telling the truth, that this man had +terrorized and ill-treated her, that but for his devilish power over +her she would have broken away. She remarked incidentally that she and +her mother had a fair amount of money put by, their share of the +proceeds from the various schemes in which they had taken part under +the leadership of Stormont and Whitehouse. + +She gave him a great deal of information about Edwards. This rascal +had specialized chiefly in blackmail, using her in most cases as a +decoy, and his activities in this direction had almost exclusively +been practised abroad. The affair with Lord Wraysbury was the only +serious _coup_ he had attempted in his own country. This unscrupulous +scoundrel was intensely proud of his birth and social connections, and +that perhaps was the reason he did so little in England. + +“But, from what he said to Whitehouse, on the day after you had so +thoroughly frightened him, I don’t think he will ever return. You see, +he is not sure how much you know. He guesses your inquiries were made +on behalf of a private person, but he also remembers you threatened +him with Scotland Yard,” said the young woman when she had concluded +this portion of her story. + +Grewgus explained to her that he could not very clearly see his way to +assist her in her schemes of vengeance on her brutal husband, as he +had appeared to confine himself almost exclusively to acts of +blackmail abroad. “In all these cases,” he told her, “there is no +chance of securing the co-operation of the victims. If we could have +connected him with the kidnapping of Calliard, which resulted in +unintentional murder, you yourself could assist the Belgian police, +who have abandoned the case. But you emphatically say he was somewhere +else at the time. All he did, I suppose, when in Paris was to convey +the instructions set out by Stormont, and meet you from day to day to +learn what progress you were making. When you both left that city, I +presume others were engaged in the affair.” + +Mrs. Edwards admitted that this was so. In spite of the prejudice +engendered against her by his knowledge of her evil past, Grewgus had +to admit that the woman had extraordinary powers of fascination. They +influenced him so far that he found himself pitying her profoundly for +being tied to such a brutal husband, so much so that he voluntarily +offered his services to her if Edwards should again seek to intrude +himself into her life. + +She thanked him very sweetly. “I have a notion I shall never see him +again,” she said. “But one never knows. He has made a good deal of +money, but he is a very greedy man. He is very frightened just now, +but his fear may pass away, and he will want to further enrich himself +by the same old means. In that case, he would seek me out with the +object of compelling me to help him. In that case, I should be glad to +come to you in the hope that you could terrify him again.” + +“What are your intentions as regards the future?” asked the detective +presently. “It would hardly be safe for you to go abroad, would it? +You would be pretty certain to run across him some day.” + +“Yes, I would prefer living on the Continent, but I dare not run the +risk of falling in with him again. After the design upon Lord +Wraysbury miscarried, thanks to your intervention, and both Whitehouse +and Edwards judged it prudent to clear out, I telegraphed to my mother +to come over from Rouen, where she was living quietly. We talked over +matters very thoroughly, and we made up our minds that we would hide +ourselves in some corner of England under an assumed name.” + +Grewgus could not help smiling at this last remark. This fascinating +young woman had gone under so many different names, that the adoption +of another alias would come very naturally to her. + +“I understand, then, that you propose for the future to go straight.” + +“Most certainly,” was the reply given in a tone that showed absolute +sincerity. “Through you, the particular coterie to which I belonged +has been practically dispersed. Howard Stormont, for whom I had +something like a feeling of affection for his kindness to me, took his +own way out of it; he was a thriftless, improvident man and he saw +ruin staring him in the face. Whitehouse was altogether different. He +was careful, not to say parsimonious. By now he must have saved a +great deal of money, and I know it was his intention to give up the +life as soon as he had amassed enough to live on. I think he was only +waiting for the Wraysbury _coup_ to come off to execute that +intention. Its failure has made him forestall it.” + +“You know where he is at the present moment, of course?” asked +Grewgus. + +“No, I do not,” was the emphatic answer, and the detective believed +that it was a truthful one. “When we talked the matter over, we both +agreed that it was best we should know nothing of each other’s +movements. I suppose we had both lived in such an atmosphere of +suspicion and secrecy, that he did not care to trust me; I was equally +disinclined to trust him.” + +“Why did he carry on that solicitor’s business? He had no genuine +business, had he?” + +Mrs. Edwards smiled. “Although I did not particularly like the man, I +had no grudge against him, and we always got on comfortably together, +and I should not care to do him a bad turn. But I think now I can +answer that question without doing him any harm. He had practically no +legal business, but he acted for the organization in cases where they +wanted advice. He was actually a money-lender, and having got his +articles when a young man, before he took to a life of crime, set up +as a solicitor in order to present a more respectable appearance. I +believe he made a great deal of money that way.” + +“And I suppose you know how he and Stormont became first acquainted?” + +Mrs. Edwards was perfectly frank about the matter. “Whitehouse and he +met originally in Australia. Whitehouse had been affiliated to a +rather high-class gang for some time, and I suppose he recognized in +Stormont a very promising recruit. They engaged in some enterprises +there, and Stormont got into trouble. When he came out of prison he +returned to England and hunted up his old friend. In due course, +Stormont became a leading member of the organization. I was one of his +assistants, and I am sure he had several others. But he was a very +cautious man, in spite of his bluff and genial manners, and he never +allowed us to know much of each other. He and Whitehouse directed +affairs in their own particular branch.” + +Grewgus was feeling very well satisfied with the result of the +interview. The candour of the fascinating young woman had led her +actually to confirm his different discoveries and suspicions. There +was one other matter, however, on which he wished to obtain further +enlightenment. + +“The affair with Hugh Craig at Nice, was Stormont at the back of +that?” + +Mrs. Edwards did not appear to answer quite as readily as before. + +“Yes, it was he who first set me upon it. He knew that Craig, although +not a wealthy man, had some money.” + +“And you were married to Edwards at the time, of course?” was the +detective’s next question. + +“Not at the time I first met Craig. Our marriage came later. But, as I +told you, we lived only occasionally together. The exigencies of our +calling rendered it necessary for us to be apart the best part of our +married life.” + +“And I know that you relieved poor Craig of a good deal of his money.” + +“I had to obey orders in this case as in the others,” was the young +woman’s answer; and Grewgus could perceive that she was speaking with +considerable emotion. “It was the most painful episode in my career, +for the poor young fellow was desperately in love with me. When a +foolish blunder on my part roused his suspicions, I think his mind +became unhinged. He would never have tried to kill me if he had been +in full possession of his senses. I can guess you know all the details +of the ghastly story from his great friend, Lydon.” + +Grewgus nodded, and Mrs. Edwards, conquering her emotion, went on in a +calmer voice: + +“I always felt a premonition that Stormont made the greatest mistake +of his life when he cultivated Lydon’s acquaintance with the view of +providing a good match for his niece. He should have steered clear of +anybody who had a knowledge at first hand of that tragedy. I told him +so when I first heard of it. I told him again when I met Lydon that +day at Effington. He laughed at my fears, said that we had never met, +and that if I kept my mother out of the way, all would be well. Dozens +of girls had a similar blemish. How was he likely to connect me with +Elise Makris? Lydon, I must say, acted very well. I did not suspect +for a moment that he recognized me. I cannot guess to this day how he +did.” + +“I think I can enlighten you on that point,” said Grewgus, who felt, +after her attitude to him, that he could afford to show a little +candour. He touched the sapphire pendant which she was wearing, and +told her what Lydon had learned about it on the day he saw it lying on +the table in a room of the Villa des Cyclamens. + +“If it had been the blemish only, Mrs. Edwards, he might not have +identified you,” Grewgus concluded. “But it was _that_ which gave him +the clue--your mascot which your mother said you always wore, and +which she had taken from you that day in the hospital.” + +“Ah, now I understand. The incident must have passed completely from +my mother’s mind, for although we have often talked together of young +Lydon, and the necessity of keeping her out of his way, she never +spoke of it. Strange, very strange,” she added in a musing voice, +“that this little mascot in which I so firmly believed should be the +cause of all that has happened, should have set you, through Lydon, on +the track of myself, Stormont and the others.” + +Grewgus presently brought the conversation round again to Hugh Craig +directly, and artfully cross-examined her as to the manner in which +she had blackmailed him. But to his questions he did not get very +distinct replies. He gathered that, in his infatuation for the +beautiful girl, the young man had parted with large sums, ostensibly +to defray debts incurred by herself and her mother, sums which were +divided in certain proportions between the confederates in the +schemes. But he failed to get any precise details. She sheltered her +reticence under the plea that it gave her inexpressible pain to dwell +upon those miserable days. + +She left him shortly, with renewed thanks for his promise to help her +in case Edwards should return and endeavour to force his society upon +her. And after she had left, he sat for a long time meditating on +herself, her strange charm, and all she had told him. + +Had she been only playing a part in order to excite his sympathy, or +had she always hated the life which had been thrust upon her by her +environment, and was only too thankful to embrace this opportunity of +quitting it? + + + + + CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR + +Leonard and Gloria were married a month before Jasper Stormont and +his wife left England for China. That last month they spent in London. +It was a very quiet wedding; a cousin of the bridegroom officiated as +one of the bridesmaids, the two others were girl friends of the bride, +and had been her bosom friends at Effington, where the memory of +Howard Stormont was still held in kindly remembrance by those who +would have been horrified if they had known the truth about him. Mr. +Grewgus was present at the ceremony, and presented dainty gifts to +both bride and bridegroom. + +Leonard had bought a charming house in the neighbourhood of Godalming +with some four acres of pretty grounds. It could not compare with the +magnificence of Effington Hall, where Howard Stormont had played the +rôle of country gentleman what time he was hatching his evil schemes +in conjunction with his taciturn fellow-criminal, John Whitehouse. But +to Gloria it was a haven of peace and delight, with her flowers and +dogs and the sweet sounds and scents of country life. She and her +young husband are devoted to each other, and although they have the +most friendly relations with their neighbours, are full of happiness +when they are alone. + +Twelve months had passed, and the villainy of Stormont and his +associates had become almost a faint memory to the young wedded +couple. Grewgus was always engaged in fresh investigations, and the +case to which he had given so much time and attention had almost been +jostled out of his mind by fresh problems. + +Then one morning in the newspaper he read something that greatly +startled him and sent his thoughts travelling back to the strenuous +time when he had made that journey to Paris in pursuit of the woman +suspected to be Elise Makris. + +His eye caught sight of the headline. “Murder and suicide in a small +Devonshire village.” Two very clear portraits of the victim, a woman, +and the murderer who had shot himself after killing her, stared at him +from the pages of the newspapers. The woman was Elise Makris, to call +her by the first name under which he had known of her in these pages; +the man was Bertram Edwards. + +The report stated that a Mrs. Mayhew and her daughter Mrs. Baradine +had come to this village about a year ago, where they had purchased a +house of moderate size. They led a quiet and secluded life, only +mixing infrequently with the few neighbours of a respectable class +around them. Both women gave themselves out as widows. They attended +church regularly and visited at the Vicar’s house. Although little was +known about them, they had made a very favourable impression on +everybody with whom they had come in contact. The daughter was quite a +young woman and of remarkable beauty. + +No visitors except those in the immediate neighbourhood had ever been +known to enter their doors. But one day their comparative isolation +had been disturbed. According to the account of one of the two maids, +a handsome man about thirty with very urbane and courteous manners had +called and requested that his name should be taken in to the ladies. +The name he gave was Edwards. + +The mention of this name, when the maid took it in to the drawing-room +where the two women were seated, seemed to arouse consternation in +both mother and daughter. After a whispered conversation between the +two, Mrs. Baradine went into the hall and took the strange visitor to +her mother. The door of the room was closed, and the three sat +together for over an hour. At the end of that time, Mrs. Baradine went +out with the man Edwards and they did not return till it wanted a few +minutes to dinner. + +The visitor stayed the night, sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms at +the back of the house. He stopped on the next day. From a remark +dropped by Mrs. Mayhew to the maid after breakfast, she gathered that +Edwards was taking his departure on the following morning. During the +whole of his visit, the demeanour of both mother and daughter +exhibited symptoms of great depression and anxiety. + +They all dined together on the evening of the second day. After dinner +Mrs. Mayhew went out for a stroll, leaving Edwards and Mrs. Baradine +in the dining-room by themselves. The housemaid also went out, and the +rest of the story was finished by the other servant, the cook. + +This woman, very curious as to this strange visitor, admitted that +twice she went into the hall and listened at the dining-room door. The +second time she heard voices high in altercation, but could not gather +what was being said. Suddenly, as she sat in the kitchen, speculating +on what was taking place between her young mistress and the man +Edwards, a shot rang out, followed in a fraction of time by a second +one. Sensing that a tragedy had happened, she rushed into the room and +was confronted with a ghastly spectacle. Mrs. Baradine was lying on +the floor dead, and beside her Edwards with a bullet through his +brain. Screaming, she fled into the village in search of the local +constable, whom she brought back to the house. Five minutes after they +came back, Mrs. Mayhew returned from her walk and fainted at the awful +sight. + +Later on, the mother told her story. Mrs. Baradine was not a widow; +her real name was Edwards and she was the wife of the man who had +killed her, and who, realizing the impossibility of escape, destroyed +himself. Hers had been a most unhappy marriage, and, to escape from +her husband’s brutality, she had left him and hid herself, as she +fondly hoped, in this quiet Devonshire village under an assumed name. + +By some means he had tracked her down, and had visited her with the +view of obtaining her forgiveness of the past, and inducing her to +resume their married life. To his request she had returned an +obstinate refusal, in which he seemed to have acquiesced, as he +announced his intention of returning to London on the following day. +On the evening of the fatal day, Mrs. Mayhew had left them alone after +dinner, apparently on fairly amicable terms. She could only conjecture +that, during her absence, he had sought to alter her daughter’s +resolution, that high words had ensued, and that in the violence of +his passion he had first taken her life and then his own. + +Mrs. Mayhew, otherwise Madame Makris, was a clever woman and had told +her story well; she had kept out of it anything that would arouse +suspicions of the past. But Grewgus, with his knowledge, was able to +read between the lines. + +Edwards had felt his old criminal instincts rising within him. So long +a time had elapsed without any action being taken that he had +concluded the past was done with. To the successful accomplishment of +any future schemes, his wife was necessary. He had tracked her down to +this lonely Devonshire village, and used all his arts of persuasion to +induce her to return to him. A man of brutal and violent passions, he +had been maddened by her refusal, and in a fit of frenzy bordering on +delirium had killed her. + +After he had mastered the facts, Grewgus went round to Lydon’s office. +The young man knew what he had come for. He and Gloria had read the +same news at breakfast. + +“I wonder if she was wearing her mascot when he killed her?” said +Lydon in a musing tone. “It saved her from the consequences of her +lover’s bullet, but not from her husband’s.” + +“And so that is the end of three out of the four,” observed Grewgus in +the same thoughtful voice. “I wonder if Nemesis has yet overtaken that +gloomy miscreant, John Whitehouse, or if he is living somewhere a life +of smug respectability on his ill-gotten gains?” + +But that question has not been answered yet. For all that is known to +the contrary, John Whitehouse, as great a criminal as the others, may +be leading the life suggested by the detective. + + THE END. + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + +Minor spelling inconsistencies (_e.g._ moneylender/money-lender, +note-book/note book, womenfolk/women-folk, etc.) have been preserved. + +Alterations to the text: + +Abandon the use of drop-caps. + +Add ToC. + +Punctuation: a few missing/invisible periods. + +[Chapter Two] + +Change “a gorgeous carved sapphire _make_ into a pendant” to _made_. + +“very shortly after the _terribly_ tragedy, with instructions” to +_terrible_. + +[Chapter Six] + +“on a considerable _snm_ of money for its purchase” to _sum_. + +[Chapter Eleven] + +“The _Storments_ had a small private sitting-room” to _Stormonts_. + +[Chapter Seventeen] + +“with something of a snarl in his _voiec_” to _voice_. + + [End of text] + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75760 *** diff --git a/75760-h/75760-h.htm b/75760-h/75760-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..35fbbc8 --- /dev/null +++ b/75760-h/75760-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11434 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The house of evil | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +/* Headers and Divisions */ + h1, h2, h3, h4 {margin:4em 0em 1em 0em; page-break-before:always; text-align:center;} + +/* General */ + + body {margin:0% 5% 0% 5%;} + + .nobreak {page-break-before:avoid;} + + p {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:justify; text-indent:1em;} + .center {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} + .noindent {text-indent:0em;} + + hr {margin:1em auto 1em auto; text-align:center; width:20%;} + + .toc_l {font-variant:small-caps; margin:0em 0em 0em 2em; text-indent:-2em;} + + .font80 {font-size:80%;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps;} + +/* special formatting */ + + blockquote {margin:1em 2em 1em 2em;} + .mt1 {margin-top:1em;} + .mt6 {margin-top:4em;} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75760 ***</div> + +<h1> +THE<br> +HOUSE OF EVIL +</h1> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="font80">BY</span><br> +WILLIAM LE QUEUX +</p> + +<p class="center mt6"> +WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED<br> +<span class="font80">LONDON AND MELBOURNE<br> +1927</span> +</p> + + +<h2> +CONTENTS +</h2> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch01">CHAPTER ONE</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch02">CHAPTER TWO</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch03">CHAPTER THREE</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch04">CHAPTER FOUR</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch05">CHAPTER FIVE</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch06">CHAPTER SIX</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch07">CHAPTER SEVEN</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch08">CHAPTER EIGHT</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch09">CHAPTER NINE</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch10">CHAPTER TEN</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch11">CHAPTER ELEVEN</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch12">CHAPTER TWELVE</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch13">CHAPTER THIRTEEN</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch14">CHAPTER FOURTEEN</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch15">CHAPTER FIFTEEN</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch16">CHAPTER SIXTEEN</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch17">CHAPTER SEVENTEEN</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch18">CHAPTER EIGHTEEN</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch19">CHAPTER NINETEEN</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch20">CHAPTER TWENTY</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch21">CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch22">CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch23">CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch24">CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR</a> +</p> + + +<h2> +THE HOUSE OF EVIL +</h2> + +<h3 class="nobreak" id="ch01"> +CHAPTER ONE +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">Hugh</span>, old man, you’re growing as close as an oyster. This is twice +this week you have dined out, leaving me solitary, and refused to tell +me what you are up to. I wonder what it is you have got up your +sleeve?” +</p> + +<p> +Two young men were strolling down the lovely Promenade des Anglais at +Nice. The elder, the Honourable Hugh Craig, was twenty-seven; Leonard +Lydon, his companion, about six months younger. +</p> + +<p> +They had been fast friends at Harrow, where Craig had risen to be the +Head of the School, and afterwards at Balliol, and the friendship had +continued after they left Oxford till the present time. +</p> + +<p> +Craig, the youngest son of Viscount Clandon, was a member of an old +aristocratic family which, for generations, had been closely connected +with the government of the country. Several of the heads of it had sat +in the Cabinets of their day and generation; other members had filled +high civil and military posts in England and its Dependencies. Hugh +himself was in the diplomatic service, and was enjoying a brief +holiday with his friend on the lovely Côte d’Azur. +</p> + +<p> +Leonard Lydon was of humbler stock than his aristocratic companion. +His father, a wealthy Liverpool merchant, had risen from small +beginnings. He had laid the foundations of his fortune very early in +his career, so that he was able to give his numerous family the +advantage of a liberal education. Each of his five sons was sent to a +public school, and subsequently either to Cambridge or Oxford. +</p> + +<p> +The Liverpool merchant had died a couple of years ago, leaving behind +him a handsome fortune, half of which was left to his widow for life, +the other half divided between the five sons and four daughters. +</p> + +<p> +The two elder sons inherited the business, as well as their share of +the private fortune. As there were nine persons to divide the half of +the total amount, nobody received a very huge sum, but enough to bring +in a comfortable income. +</p> + +<p> +After taking his degree at Oxford, Leonard had become deeply +interested in wireless research, and had studied until he became a +full-blown radio engineer, a profession which he followed in the +Admiralty during the later years of the War. After peace he joined an +American Wireless Communication Company which had a branch in England. +At the time this story opens, he had been appointed this Company’s +chief engineer and designer. As he was in receipt of a handsome +salary, his financial position was a very comfortable one. +</p> + +<p> +His friend, Hugh Craig, was not so well off as himself. His family, +though very ancient, was poor for its position. He was still in the +lower grades of the diplomatic service, and his private income was a +small one. But the Clandon influence would later on be sure to secure +for him a snug post. He was, however, better off than a good many +members of impoverished families, as he had been left a moderate +legacy of a few thousands by a near relative. +</p> + +<p> +When his friend rallied him upon his secretive mien, Hugh gave one of +his disarming and diplomatic smiles. +</p> + +<p> +“I expect you’ll learn all about it in good time, my dear fellow. You +know I was always rather a reticent sort of chap, fond of making a +mystery of small things.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon laughed. “That’s one of the truest things you have ever said, +Hugh, and nobody who didn’t know you thoroughly, like myself, would +ever guess it. On the surface, you give the impression of being one of +the frankest men living. That appearance of yours will be one of the +greatest assets to you in your career. How easily it will enable you +to hoodwink people when you want to!” +</p> + +<p> +Hugh Craig smiled in his turn. “From all I can learn this peculiar +characteristic has run in the Clandon family for generations. I +suppose that is why so many of us have taken so readily to statecraft +and diplomacy.” +</p> + +<p> +That evening, Leonard Lydon dined by himself at the Hôtel Royal, as +he had done a couple of nights ago. During the progress of his +solitary meal, he speculated a good deal upon the cause of his +friend’s absence. Of an ordinary man, the man whose type he had met in +scores, he would have said there was undoubtedly a woman at the bottom +of it. +</p> + +<p> +But Hugh Craig, good-looking, self-possessed and <i>débonnaire</i>, with +that smiling, charming manner, was by no means an ordinary man. Even +as a boy he had been a complex character, and the transition to +manhood had deepened the complexity. +</p> + +<p> +Intimately associated as they had been all these years, Lydon was +forced to confess that he knew very little of the inner personality of +his friend, the part which he hid so successfully from the world under +that smiling, <i>débonnaire</i> mask. +</p> + +<p> +Did he care greatly about women? Did he care at all about them? For +the life of him, Leonard could not give a definite answer to that +question. As was natural on the part of such young men, they had often +lightly discussed the other sex together. But out of these +conversations nothing of a hidden vein of romance had been revealed by +Craig. His comments might have been those of a rather cynical +philosopher of twice his age. +</p> + +<p> +Only once had he made any remark bearing directly upon himself, which +might be taken to represent his well-considered opinions on the +subject, and on this occasion he had spoken with more gravity than was +his wont when the conversation touched upon the themes of love and +marriage. +</p> + +<p> +“No man who intends to make a career for himself should ever commit +the folly of falling in love,” he had said. “Because the chances are +ten to one that he will fall in love with the wrong person. Marry for +sound, sensible reasons perhaps. Even then I think I should postpone +the step as long as possible, so far as I am individually concerned.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon, whose temperament was rather of the romantic kind, looked the +surprise he felt. +</p> + +<p> +“But surely you will marry some day, Hugh? Not too early perhaps, but +when you have got a comfortable post?” +</p> + +<p> +The answer came very deliberately. “It might be an absolute necessity +of the position. But putting that on one side, I feel no great +yearning for the married state. If I were the eldest son, it would be +necessary for me to provide an heir; but the Clandons are so prolific, +they are not likely to die out for want of representatives.” +</p> + +<p> +On the whole, Lydon would have said, from these and other remarks +dropped by the calm, smiling young diplomatist, that Hugh Craig was +very little attracted by women, and the last man in the world to be +capable of a grand passion. +</p> + +<p> +But he was not at all sure. During the long term of their friendship, +Hugh had so often surprised him by sudden revelations of a side of his +character totally unsurmised, that he could not reckon upon him with +any degree of certainty. +</p> + +<p> +It was just on the cards that he had suddenly met a woman who had the +power to stir his languid pulses. And Lydon had always suspected that, +deep down under that placid exterior, there was something volcanic +slumbering which would one day burst into flame. If Hugh ever did +love, it was more than probable he would love with an unreasoning +ardour. +</p> + +<p> +If there was a woman, who was she? Where had they met? The two young +men had been so much together during their stay at Nice, that +opportunity did not seem to have offered itself very abundantly. And +one thing was quite certain. If Hugh had a serious love affair, nobody +would be told about it till the very last moment. Secretiveness about +his personal concerns was the keynote of his character. +</p> + +<p> +Having finished his dinner, Lydon went into the lounge. He had not +been there long when the Stormont family came in. It consisted of +Howard Stormont, a stout, rubicund, clean-shaven man of about fifty, +who bore his years gaily; his niece, Gloria, a pretty, blue-eyed, +fair-haired girl with a slender, graceful figure, and his widowed +sister, Mrs. Maud Barnard, a woman who dressed in a rather extravagant +style. +</p> + +<p> +They had struck up a slight acquaintance with the two young men, +chiefly with Lydon, who was a very cosmopolitan fellow. Craig had not +taken greatly to the party, being a person of very fastidious taste. +When he talked them over with his friend, he admitted that Gloria was +a remarkably pretty girl, “would have been quite worth cultivating if +she had possessed different relatives.” The rubicund Howard Stormont +he declared to be an aggressive type of profiteer, and Mrs. Barnard he +evidently considered to be an unrefined, over-dressed woman. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon did not take this severe view of the uncle and aunt. Mrs. +Barnard was a trifle flamboyant in dress perhaps, but she was also +exceedingly amiable and good-natured. Stormont’s manners were possibly +too hearty for perfect refinement, but he was a genial, cheery fellow, +and full of a shrewd wit. +</p> + +<p> +As for Gloria, Leonard though he had never come across a more charming +girl. In the few chats they had enjoyed together when Craig happened +to be absent, she had told him a good deal about herself. Her parents +lived in China, where her father held a high position in one of the +European banks. As the climate did not suit her, she had made her home +with her uncle, the rubicund Howard Stormont and his widowed sister, +at Effington in Surrey. +</p> + +<p> +He also learned that, like many modern young women, she was an +athletic girl, passionately fond of all outdoor games and sports. As +he was no mean athlete himself, he admired her the more for this fact, +which rather surprised him, as her appearance did not suggest any +particular robustness, but rather the reverse. +</p> + +<p> +Presently Mr. Stormont went away to write some letters, and soon after +Mrs. Barnard followed him. The young people were left alone. +</p> + +<p> +“What has become of your friend, Mr. Craig?” the girl asked him. “This +is the second time this week he has left you to dine in solitary +state. I feel quite sorry for you.” +</p> + +<p> +She had a very sweet, musical voice. In fact Lydon thought everything +about her was dainty and refined, far above the average. +</p> + +<p> +The young man smiled. “Yes, Craig has been very mysterious the last +few days. He goes off on his own, and he won’t tell me a word about +it. He parries all hints with his usual diplomatic ability and +sang-froid. You can’t ruffle him, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should say it would be quite impossible,” was Miss Stormont’s +answer. “You are very great friends, are you not? I have often +wondered why.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it that causes you to wonder?” asked Leonard. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Stormont blushed a little at being called upon to explain her +rather unguarded remark. +</p> + +<p> +“You seem such exact opposites. You are perfectly open, impulsive, not +to say impetuous. If asked for your opinion, you blurt it out at once, +sometimes without very deep thought, if you will forgive me for saying +so, as I have often known you to alter or modify it as you go along. +Mr. Craig is so different. Behind that smiling urbanity is an intense +reserve, a profound caution. Somehow, if you ask him a straightforward +question, his answer is so fenced about with subtleties that you don’t +feel satisfied.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon laughed heartily. The girl was very frank, even to the point of +indiscretion. But she had certainly judged his friend pretty shrewdly. +Even those who loved him and admired his very considerable gifts were +forced to admit that there was a good deal of the Jesuit about this +young descendant of diplomatic ancestors. +</p> + +<p> +They had the longest talk they had ever enjoyed together that evening +in the almost empty lounge. +</p> + +<p> +As she prattled gaily along, with that frankness which was natural to +her, he learned a good deal about the rubicund Howard Stormont +himself. He was engaged in business, a very busy man and possessed of +boundless energy. He was not fond of London life, and so far as was +compatible with his business interests, played with great gusto the +rôle of country gentleman. He had purchased a charming place some +five years ago, and was never happier than when strolling around +Effington village in his country tweeds, and chatting familiarly with +the inhabitants. +</p> + +<p> +This estate had been acquired from an impoverished and hard-living +young sprig of the nobility, a grandson of the Earl of Sedgemere, who +had originally owned the fine seat known as Effington Hall. Under his +short tenure, the revenues which should have gone to the upkeep of the +property had been diverted to gambling and riotous living. The once +big estate had been disposed of bit by bit. +</p> + +<p> +Stormont, the wealthy man of business, had soon altered this. The +mansion and estate had been vastly improved, and pretty Effington +village had been renovated out of all recognition. Upon the completion +of his purchase, he had given a donation of five hundred pounds +towards the restoration of the exquisite thirteenth-century church +with its grey square tower, such a well-known landmark in the Surrey +landscape. In the “county” he was highly respected for his generosity +and magisterial work, for very soon after his purchase of Effington he +had been put upon the roll of Justices of the Peace for the county of +Surrey. +</p> + +<p> +So, somewhat to his surprise, Lydon learned that this homely, rather +commonplace-looking man, whom his friend Craig described as an +aggressive profiteer, was a person of importance in business circles, +and not altogether undistinguished in the more select sphere of county +life. +</p> + +<p> +“I enjoy travelling very much,” she told the young man, after she had +furnished him with these details of her uncle’s biography. “But my +happiest time is at Effington with the dear dogs and horses. I know +everybody in the place, and the hours seem to go as if they were +minutes.” +</p> + +<p> +“You seem to me rather a lucky girl,” remarked her companion, “and I +expect you are spoiled by both uncle and aunt.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Stormont admitted with a pretty smile that he was not very far +out in his guess. Howard Stormont was one of the most generous and +easy-going men alive, and nobody could be more indulgent towards youth +than Mrs. Barnard. She was very young in spirit herself, and preferred +the society of her juniors to more staid company. They indulged her in +every reasonable wish, and kept open house and practised an almost +lavish hospitality. +</p> + +<p> +No wonder, thought Lydon, that the county had taken them to its bosom. +And although Craig had conceived a quite pronounced dislike for both +the man and his sister, Lydon, less fastidious and critical, thought +them very delightful people. Stormont was probably a self-made man, +but he detected in neither him nor his sister any offensive signs of +the newly-rich. He was not a snob, as affable to a waiter as he would +have been to a duke, and never bragged. Mrs. Barnard was perhaps a +trifle too flamboyant and juvenile in her attire for a woman of her +years, but this, after all, was a very venial weakness. +</p> + +<p> +The tall, elegant girl he considered perfection; he could not see in +her anything that he would have wished altered. And so she was the +adopted daughter of a wealthy man! It was not much use allowing his +feelings to stray in that direction. Howard Stormont would certainly +have different views for her future. His friend Craig perhaps, with +that fine old family record behind him, might have been considered +favourably. But what had he, Leonard Lydon, a man of moderate income +and no particular position, to offer such a peerless girl? Better put +the idea out of his head with the least possible delay. +</p> + +<p> +Still, it was very delightful sitting there and chatting to her. She +talked to him as if she had known him for years, and there was not the +faintest symptom of coquetry about her. She seemed a perfectly frank +and open girl and quite free from conceit, unconscious that her +undeniable personal charms were bound to work havoc on the opposite +sex. She was not one of those sophisticated modern maidens who are +always out for conquest and admiration. +</p> + +<p> +They sat there for a long time, as neither Howard nor his sister +reappeared. Presently Craig returned from his mysterious visit and +came into the lounge in search of his friend. It struck Lydon, who +could read him more easily than most people, that, in spite of the +urbane mask which he so rarely removed, he was preoccupied and gloomy. +</p> + +<p> +Craig was too well-bred a gentleman to be absolutely rude to anybody, +much less to an attractive young woman. He addressed a few polite +remarks to Miss Stormont, but it was not difficult to see his mind was +elsewhere while he was making them. His presence seemed to have a +rather chilling influence on both young people. Miss Stormont +evidently was affected by it, for, after a very brief interval, she +rose and bade them good night, saying that she must go and look after +her relatives. +</p> + +<p> +The young men smoked together for about half an hour, and during this +time the conversation between them was desultory and fitful. Lydon was +more sure than ever that his friend had something on his mind, but in +spite of their close intimacy he did not venture to question him. +Craig had a chilling manner of repelling confidences which it required +a very callous man to put up with. If he did not think fit to unbosom +himself, wild horses would not drag anything from him. When he had +finished his cigar, he rose and rather abruptly intimated he was going +to bed. Lydon stayed a little longer, thinking of Gloria Stormont and +her exquisite charm, and then followed his example. +</p> + +<p> +In the morning he came down rather late to breakfast, and was +surprised to see the Stormont family in the hall, in the act of +departure. The portly man addressed him in his usual breezy and genial +manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Glad to have a chance of saying good-bye to you. Amongst my letters +this morning, I found one summoning me back to England on urgent +business that brooks no delay. Very pleased to have come across you. +The world is small, I expect we shall meet again some day. Come along, +Maud. Gloria, hurry up.” +</p> + +<p> +There were hasty hand-shakes. Gloria smiled very sweetly and flushed +just a little as she bade him farewell. Lydon felt his spirits sinking +very low at her departure. He went into the dining-room and found +Craig half-way through his breakfast. He imparted the news to his +friend. +</p> + +<p> +Craig made the very briefest comment. “I suppose you will miss her. +You seemed on very good terms when I came upon you last night. Well, +my dear chap, perhaps it is better. A very undesirable family, +although I admit the girl is vastly different from her uncle and that +overdressed aunt.” +</p> + +<p> +Leonard did not make any reply to this unkind speech. He knew his +friend too well. He was not a man of violent likes or dislikes; but +when once he formed an unfavourable opinion of anybody, nothing would +ever alter or modify it. Howard Stormont and his widowed sister were +anathema to him, and anathema they would remain till the end of the +chapter. +</p> + +<p> +They were staying on for the best part of another week, and during +that period the young men were together the greater part of the time. +But on several occasions Craig absented himself for short intervals, +giving no explanation of his movements. +</p> + +<p> +And one day, by the merest chance, Leonard saw him in a side street, +engaged in conversation with a shabby, rather furtive-looking +foreigner. As they were too occupied to notice him, he soon removed +himself from their neighbourhood. +</p> + +<p> +He had come across a few acquaintances at Nice, and Craig a great +many. But this shabby furtive-looking foreigner was not the sort of +companion suitable for the fastidious young diplomatist. Clearly there +was some mystery going on, which his friend was carefully hiding from +him. Probably it might be connected with his diplomatic business, but +Lydon had an uncanny idea that a woman was at the bottom of it, +whatever it was. +</p> + +<p> +Never did he forget that early morning of the day which they had fixed +for their departure. In the evening, Craig had gone out to dinner for +the third time during their stay. Lydon went to the masked ball at the +Casino, and returned early in the morning. He concluded that Craig had +come home and gone to bed, knowing that his friend would not leave the +Casino till late. +</p> + +<p> +He was about to undress when he was called to the telephone by the +police, who gave him alarming news. Would he go at once to the Villa +des Cyclamens at Mont Boron, as his friend Mr. Craig was dangerously +ill? +</p> + +<p> +He had felt a little nettled the last few days by what he considered +Craig’s unfriendly reticence; but when he received this message, all +his old affection for the staunch comrade of so many years returned in +full force. As soon as possible he was at the Villa des Cyclamens of +which he now heard for the first time. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch02"> +CHAPTER TWO +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Great</span> was his astonishment at finding the pretty villa overlooking +the moonlit Mediterranean in possession of the police, amongst whom he +observed the shabby furtive-looking man whom he had seen talking to +Hugh in the side street of Nice. +</p> + +<p> +The chief official approached him and addressed him in excellent +English. “We sent you a rather guarded message, Mr. Lydon, as we felt +we could break the news better to you when you came here. A very +terrible tragedy has occurred.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon held his breath. He knew now that the mystery about Hugh Craig’s +frequent disappearance which had so puzzled him was about to be solved +by this bland, courteous official. +</p> + +<p> +“A terrible tragedy?” he faltered. “In Heaven’s name what has +happened?” The man proceeded to explain. “This house is tenanted by a +Madame Makris, a widow. Her husband was a Greek merchant, she is an +Englishwoman. She lived here with her daughter, Mademoiselle Elise +Makris, the only child of the marriage. Mademoiselle and your friend, +Mr. Hugh Craig, were very close friends; according to the mother’s +statement, they were more than friends, very devoted lovers. It seems +a few days ago they had a violent quarrel—I am still quoting Madame +Makris—the cause of which was not divulged. To-night Mr. Craig dined +here, and after dinner he and the young lady went and sat on the +veranda, according to their usual custom on the occasions when he +visited the house.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon interrupted with a question. “There are only three nights on +which he has dined away from the hotel where we were staying together. +I suppose he paid several day visits?” +</p> + +<p> +“Madame Makris tells me hardly a day has passed that he did not come +here, staying for longer or shorter periods. The young people have +known each other for some five years. Well, the mother upon those +occasions did not intrude herself very much; she left the lovers alone +as much as possible. She followed her usual course this evening, +occupying herself in writing letters and attending to her household +accounts. +</p> + +<p> +“Suddenly she was startled by the sound of shots proceeding from the +veranda where Mr. Craig and her daughter were seated. She rushed +hastily from the room in which she was sitting and was horrified at +the sight which presented itself. Mademoiselle was bleeding from a +wound in the neck. After shooting her, the young man turned the pistol +on himself and sent a bullet through his brain. The young woman was +still alive, Mr. Craig was dead when she reached him. The second shot +had done its work instantaneously. +</p> + +<p> +“Madame Makris at once rang up the police. We came with a doctor and +Mademoiselle was taken to the hospital behind the railway station. For +the unfortunate young man nothing could be done. After Madame had made +her statement to us, we telephoned to you to come up.” +</p> + +<p> +Dazed as he was by the tragic occurrence, Lydon could grasp the fact +that, although Hugh had never breathed to his friend a word of his +secret connection with the denizens of the Villa des Cyclamens, he had +been perfectly frank with them as to his relations with Lydon. +Otherwise, how did Madame Makris know that they were staying together +at the same hotel? +</p> + +<p> +So the volcano which he had always suspected was slumbering under that +placid exterior had suddenly burst into flame with these awful +consequences to Elise Makris and the man himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Can Madame suggest any explanation of this frenzied act?” was Lydon’s +next question. +</p> + +<p> +The courteous official shook his head. “Madame says she knows nothing, +that the whole thing is inexplicable to her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mademoiselle Makris is in the hospital, you say. Do they give any +hope of her recovery? Is the wound a serious one?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very serious, I am told,” was the reply. “They can pronounce no +definite opinion at the moment. From what I can gather she seems to be +hovering between life and death. Perhaps you would like to see the +body; we have laid it in one of the bedrooms?” +</p> + +<p> +Leonard went to the chamber, and gazed upon the pallid features of the +friend whom he had last seen in full health and strength. As he stood +there, looking down on the rigid form, he felt overcome by the +memories of their long association. They had been intimate so many +years. +</p> + +<p> +A little under the age of fifteen they had foregathered at Harrow, +drawn together by that strange attraction which sometimes unites +totally opposite temperaments. They had gone up form by form in +company. Hugh the mental superior, beating his friend at the last lap +of all, and attaining the proud position of Head of the School. In the +same year they had been put into the cricket eleven and had done +battle against Eton at Lord’s. At Balliol, whither they both +proceeded, the intimacy grew stronger, and here again history repeated +itself. They both represented their University in cricket against +Cambridge, as they had represented Harrow. +</p> + +<p> +And now this life, so full of promise and opportunity, had been +blotted out by his own rash act. And, even more terrible, Hugh Craig +had gone to his last account with the sin of murder, or at least +attempted murder, on his soul. What terrible thing was it that had so +unhinged his mind? +</p> + +<p> +The police had found the pistol clutched firmly in his dead hand. This +fearful deed, then, was not due to some sudden temptation of the +moment. It must have been premeditated or he would not have taken a +loaded weapon with him to this peaceful villa. When Hugh had bade his +friend good-bye, he must have had murder, and afterwards +self-destruction, in his mind. +</p> + +<p> +When the young man had left the death-chamber, he inquired after +Madame Makris, and was informed that she was prostrated with grief, as +was quite natural. He exchanged a few words with the furtive-looking +man whom he had seen talking to Hugh in the side street a short time +ago. +</p> + +<p> +“I saw you together the other day,” he said, “but you did not see me, +and I hastened as quickly as possible out of sight, as I did not wish +to appear to be spying upon my friend. Do you know anything that can +throw light upon this?” +</p> + +<p> +The shabby individual lowered his eyes as he answered. “No, monsieur, +I am sorry to say, nothing. My acquaintance with Monsieur Craig was +very slight.” +</p> + +<p> +If the man was not actually lying, it was obvious there was nothing to +be got out of him. Lydon impatiently asked him if he was one of the +regular police. To this question he replied that he was not, that he +followed the profession of private inquiry agent, as it would be +called in England. That he was naturally in the course of his business +frequently in communication with them, and that having heard of the +terrible tragedy at the Villa, he had begged permission to accompany +them there. +</p> + +<p> +Later on, Lydon put himself into communication with the dead man’s +family, and Hugh’s elder brother came over to Nice at once to +superintend the arrangements. Geoffrey Craig, a rather severe-looking +man, who held a minor Governmental post, was as much bewildered by the +catastrophe as Lydon himself. He had never heard of the Makris family +in connection with his brother. +</p> + +<p> +Hugh Craig was buried in the beautiful English cemetery out beyond the +Magnan, what time the girl whom he had tried to kill was lying between +life and death in the hospital. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon was obliged to defer his departure for a few days in consequence +of these tragic happenings. Before he left he called upon Mrs. Makris, +who was now sufficiently recovered to receive him. +</p> + +<p> +She was a stoutly-built, rather over-dressed woman, with a face which +still showed traces of good looks. He had been told by the police she +was an Englishwoman, and her thoroughly British accent confirmed the +fact. But he had a shrewd suspicion that Jewish blood ran in her +veins. +</p> + +<p> +While he was waiting in the pretty <i>salon</i> of the Villa des Cyclamens +for the unhappy mother, he noticed upon a writing table a gorgeous +carved sapphire made into a pendant, the stone worn upon the +breastplate of the High Priest of the Hebrews as the sign of Issachar. +He rather marvelled that such a valuable article was allowed to lie +there. In the distraction occasioned by the tragedy, it was of course +possible that neither Madame Makris nor any other member of the +household had heeded it. +</p> + +<p> +The Jewish-looking woman bore upon her still good-looking face the +deep traces of her grief. When Lydon murmured a few words of sympathy, +the ready tears fell immediately. +</p> + +<p> +“My darling Elise was all the world to me; we were devoted to each +other,” she said in a broken voice. “And this state of suspense is +awful. Two whole days have passed, and still they are not certain +whether she will live or die.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon again expressed his deep sympathy. “I have been very terribly +shocked too, although I cannot for a moment pretend to compare my +feelings with yours. Hugh Craig and I have been friends from boyhood, +and I should have judged him the last man in the world to have given +way to such an awful impulse. Have you no inkling of the cause which +led to such an unexpected catastrophe?” +</p> + +<p> +Madame Makris shook her head, a head covered with thick dark hair in +which there was not a trace of grey, in spite of her years, which +might have been anything from forty-five to fifty. +</p> + +<p> +“Not the slightest, Mr. Lydon. There had been some disagreement +between them a little time previously, for I discovered my poor girl +in tears after he had left. I pressed her to tell me the reason of her +agitation, but she parried all my efforts to extract the truth from +her. She assured me it was quite a trifling matter, and that she would +not have been affected by it, except for the fact that she was in low +spirits.” +</p> + +<p> +“May I ask, madame, if they had known each other for long?” +</p> + +<p> +“Some few years,” was the answer. “There was no regular engagement +between them, but it was understood that they would marry as soon as +they could. Elise was always rather reticent on the subject, but I +gathered that there was some difficulty in the way with regard to Mr. +Craig’s family. It was a very old and honourable one, and it was +expected of him that when he did marry he would choose somebody of his +own order. We are, of course, quite middle-class people, and by no +means wealthy. My husband was a merchant.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon pointed to the writing-table. “That is rather a valuable thing +to leave lying about, if I may say so, madam.” +</p> + +<p> +The dark-haired woman looked at it with an air of indifference. “I had +forgotten it in the preoccupation of my great trouble. It belongs to +Elise. Her uncle, Monsieur Lianas, gave it to her on her twenty-first +birthday. She was wearing it when the tragedy occurred. I only brought +it back from the hospital this morning, and heedlessly laid it down +there. But you are quite right; it is too valuable to be left lying +about. I will lock it up directly. Heaven knows if my poor child will +ever wear it again,” she concluded with a burst of tears. +</p> + +<p> +Leonard went back to England the next day, very sad at heart at the +loss of his lifelong friend. He pondered much over the meagre +information that Madame Makris had given him. The young people had +known each other for some years. There had been no formal engagement +between them, but it was an understood thing they were to be married +as soon as they were in a position to do so. +</p> + +<p> +And during those years, although they had met so frequently, Craig had +never dropped a word about Elise or her mother to his friend. So +strange a silence passed beyond the bounds of ordinary reticence. +There must be some reason for it, most likely some mystery behind it. +He could quite understand that Hugh might find some difficulty in +reconciling his family to his marriage with a foreigner of no +particular position. But it was strange that a man should be in love +and never say anything about it to his closest friend. +</p> + +<p> +As was natural under such painful circumstances, his thoughts of +Gloria Stormont had been temporarily pushed into the background; but +after a little, when the first violence of the shock had passed away, +her charming image again recurred to him. +</p> + +<p> +What a beautiful girl she was, and how delightfully unaffected! Was it +likely he would ever come across her again? Her uncle had spoken of it +as a probability when he remarked that after all the world was a small +place. +</p> + +<p> +And a fortnight later, Howard Stormont’s prophecy was fulfilled. Lydon +suddenly made up his mind to run down for a week-end to the +<i>Metropole</i> at Brighton. As he ascended the steps of the well-known +hotel about an hour before dinner-time, the first person he +encountered in the vestibule was the genial Stormont, looking more +prosperous and rubicund than ever. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing could have been more hearty than the greeting Lydon received. +</p> + +<p> +“Well met, my dear fellow, glad to see you. I said it would not be +long before we ran across each other again. My sister and Gloria are +with me. Are you alone? Good, you must join our table. Well, as soon +as you have settled about your room, let us celebrate the occasion +with a cocktail. Good old <i>Metropole</i>, you can’t beat it. I’m not very +busy just now, so we’re here for a week. My sister is a bit run down, +and the sea breezes will set her up.” +</p> + +<p> +What a good-hearted fellow he was, Lydon thought. Gloria had said of +him he was one of the kindest and most generous of men. Over their +cocktails the young man told him of the tragic happenings at the Villa +des Cyclamens. But Stormont had read it in the papers. Of course it +was impossible that anything could be kept quiet in the case of a man +of Hugh Craig’s position. +</p> + +<p> +“A very mysterious affair, and I suppose nobody will ever know the +rights of it,” he remarked when Leonard had communicated all the +details he knew, which, as we know, were somewhat meagre. “Well, I +cannot say I ever took very kindly to your poor friend, for the reason +probably that he took very little pains to conceal his dislike of me. +But it is a terrible ending to a promising career. I suppose, in the +course of time, he would have ended up as an ambassador. The Clandon +family have a knack of falling into soft jobs. Now, you won’t see the +womenfolk before dinner, as they are in their rooms, and I shan’t +mention I have met you. When you walk up to our table it will be a +pleasant surprise for them. We all took a great fancy to you at Nice.” +</p> + +<p> +The young man had no reason to complain of his welcome at the hands of +the two ladies when he met them at dinner. Mrs. Barnard told him it +was a most agreeable surprise, and although Gloria did not make +flattering speeches, she flushed prettily and her eyes looked very +bright when she shook hands with him. +</p> + +<p> +They spent a very delightful evening together. Early the next morning +Stormont expressed his intention of taking his sister a long motor +drive, with a view of getting as much fresh air as possible; they +would be back to luncheon. +</p> + +<p> +“You two young people can do what you like with yourselves,” he said +gaily. Certainly, he was a most complaisant person. Lydon was rather +surprised that he should throw them into each other’s society like +this. Surely he must have ambitious views for his niece’s future. And +he could not help wondering what it was his friend Hugh had seen in +the man which made him dislike him so intensely. Little vulgarisms in +speech and manner peeped out now and again, but surely those were not +enough to account for such a fierce aversion, more especially as +Craig, in spite of his aristocratic lineage, was rather a democratic +sort of fellow at heart, and a thorough cosmopolitan. +</p> + +<p> +The two, thus dismissed to their own resources, went on to the West +Pier, where they sat for some little time, then they walked up and +down the Parade for a couple of hours, till it was time to return to +the hotel. During these happy and precious moments Leonard felt that +he was making great headway with the charming girl. She talked to him +with as much freedom as if they had been friends of old standing. She +told him all about her uncle’s place, Effington Hall, and of her mode +of life there. According to her account, it was a very beautiful +place, with lovely gardens, and the rather commonplace-looking Howard +Stormont appeared to dwell in great luxury, with a large retinue of +servants. As he listened, he wondered if he would ever be asked to +join the numerous company which the owner invited there. +</p> + +<p> +Stormont did not seem to mind his enjoying the girl’s society on a +casual visit to the seaside, but would he draw the line at the +familiarity born of a long stay in a country house? Had he been in the +uncle’s place, he was inclined to think he would. +</p> + +<p> +His visit did not terminate with the week-end. He stayed on another +couple of days, being pressed to do so by Stormont himself during this +extension of time. The brother and sister left the young couple very +much to themselves, and Lydon made splendid running with Gloria. So +much so that, before he left, she had promised to run up to town from +Effington soon after they returned there, and lunch with him in town. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon had suggested it with rather a shamefaced air. “I don’t feel I +have the cheek to ask you in front of your uncle and aunt after such a +short acquaintance,” he explained. “I expect they would think it +confounded impertinence on my part.” +</p> + +<p> +Gloria had blushed very becomingly when she answered him. “Well, one +cannot be quite sure. They are pretty modern, considering all things, +but perhaps not quite so modern as you and I. I often run up to shop; +it is really no distance from London. I will give you good notice when +I am coming, and I can tell them about it later when we have all got +to know each other better.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon went back to London very delighted that the girl liked him well +enough to take the bold course of meeting him secretly. In due course, +when he went in to breakfast in his comfortable chambers at Ryder +Street, he found the expected note from Miss Stormont appointing two +days later for their luncheon. +</p> + +<p> +There was another letter from the well-known firm of Shelford & +Taylor, solicitors in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, asking him to give them a +call, as they wished to hand him a communication from one of their +clients. +</p> + +<p> +He knew these people had attended to the affairs of most of the +members of the Clandon family, Hugh included. Greatly wondering, he +called on them that morning, and was received by the head of the firm, +who handed him a bulky letter. +</p> + +<p> +“This was received from our client, and your friend, the Honourable +Hugh Craig, very shortly after the terrible tragedy, with instructions +to hand it to you after the lapse of a certain period which has now +expired. I am filled with curiosity to know if this letter, dispatched +to us on the morning of the day on which this awful thing occurred, +throws any light upon the affair.” +</p> + +<p> +Leonard read slowly through the long communication, and, laying it +down, met the inquiring gaze of the solicitor. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, in a sad voice. “This reveals the motives which +impelled him to attempt the life of Elise Makris, and make an end of +his own. I will tell you.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch03"> +CHAPTER THREE +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">First</span>, I will read you the opening sentences of the letter,” said +Leonard. And this is what he read: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +“To you, my very dear friend, whose friendship has been one of the +most pleasurable things in my life, to the memories of which I look +back with a feeling of great tenderness as I pen these lines, the last +I shall ever write upon earth, I reveal the secret of the tragedy +which will shortly take place. In Nice the affair will, naturally, be +a nine days’ wonder. Nice, this fair and lovely city of aristocratic +crookdom, where vice and virtue rub shoulders at every hour of the +twenty-four, and where the cleverest criminals of the world congregate +in the pursuit of their nefarious calling! Nice, where I first met the +only woman who ever stirred my pulses, who made me realize the meaning +of ardent, overmastering love! When you read these words, perhaps you +will smile at the idea of the cautious diplomatist, the rather cynical +young man of the world, confessing to being violently in love. But it +is the truth. I had passed unscathed up to a few years ago, +indifferent to the charms of the many beautiful women I had met in my +own country and elsewhere, until I made the acquaintance of Elise +Makris. Then suddenly I realized, poor fool as I was, that I had found +my ideal. To me she stood for the perfection of womanhood. +</p> + +<p> +“To-night I am going to kill her, because she has betrayed my faith in +her, because I have proved she is base and unworthy. And when I have +accomplished this justifiable vengeance, there is nothing left for me +but to end my own life. By the time you receive this letter the nine +days’ wonder will have died out, and the memory of Hugh Craig will +only linger in the hearts of one or two faithful friends like +yourself. The details I am about to relate will not interest the +world, but you are at perfect liberty to communicate them to anybody +you think it may concern.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +“As you are such an old and confidential friend of the Clandon family, +Mr. Shelford,” said the young man when he had finished reading this +preliminary portion of the letter, “I feel quite justified in reading +to you what my poor, unfortunate friend has disclosed to me.” +</p> + +<p> +From the astounding narrative to which Mr. Shelford listened, he +learned the following remarkable facts: Mrs. Makris, the mother of +Elise, a very beautiful young woman, had posed, ever since Craig knew +her, as the widow of a Greek merchant who had left her comfortably +off. Her late husband’s fortune was settled upon her for life, she +told him, and her daughter would inherit it at her death. +</p> + +<p> +It was on Craig’s last visit to Nice, and then only towards the end of +it, that his suspicions concerning the truth of her story were +aroused. Elise had addressed to him by mistake a letter intended for +somebody else, a letter of a most suspicious character, betraying her +acquaintance with a very questionable set of people. When he asked her +for an explanation, her replies were evasive and unsatisfactory, so +much so that he at once came to the conclusion that both the girl and +her mother were quite different from what they seemed. +</p> + +<p> +He did not at once break off with her, wishing to test the truth of +his suspicions. For this purpose he secured the services of a private +inquiry agent, without doubt the shabby furtive-looking man to whom +Leonard had seen him talking in that quiet side street. +</p> + +<p> +This man soon discovered the horrible fact that both the woman and her +daughter were connected with a well-known gang of international +crooks. Elise, with her beauty and charm, was one of their most useful +decoys, and under another name had served a term of imprisonment a +short time before Craig had made her acquaintance. The woman Makris +had never been married, so he alleged; the girl was her illegitimate +daughter, the father having been a member of the same gang. To the +young man, whose affections she had captured, Elise had represented +herself as a model of simplicity and purity. As they did not see each +other very frequently, it was the more easy for her to maintain the +double rôle of sweetheart to him and the clever decoy of these +unscrupulous scoundrels. But for her own carelessness in putting the +wrong letter into the envelope directed to him, Craig had made up his +mind to marry her privately and tell his family afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +“A most astounding story,” was the remark of the shrewd and +experienced lawyer when the narrative was finished. “Poor fellow, one +cannot but pity him in spite of the fact that he took the law into his +own hands. The discovery of her baseness must have overthrown his +reason. How deceptive are appearances. One would have judged him the +last man in the world to be swayed by violent passions. Clearly the +mind must have given way under the shock.” +</p> + +<p> +“There are some rather obscure hints that he had been subjected to +blackmail, and that through this man he employed, he was able to trace +it to her agency. That of course would have a maddening effect upon +any man in a similar position.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Sheldon knitted his brows. “I wish he had been a little more +explicit on that point. We do not know whether this girl is alive or +dead. When Hugh’s brother left Nice, she was hovering between life and +death in the hospital to which they had taken her. If she has +recovered, I should very much like to find the young woman, although +it doesn’t appear that it would serve any very useful purpose if I +did.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon also expressed his wish that, if she had escaped her lover’s +vengeance, Elise Makris, the decoy of blackmailers, should be found. +Mr. Shelford promised to instruct his agent in Nice to make inquiries +at once. +</p> + +<p> +The tragedy had cast a deep shadow over Lydon. Even the prospect of +meeting again with Gloria Stormont could not restore him to his old +cheerfulness, nor blot out the memory of those sinister happenings at +the peaceful-looking Villa des Cyclamens. +</p> + +<p> +Gloria looked very charming and radiant when she arrived at Waterloo +Station, where Leonard was awaiting her. +</p> + +<p> +“It was a little indiscreet of us to arrange meeting here,” she said +with a blush as they shook hands. “Somebody who knew me might have +travelled in the same train; that would have been awkward. It was +silly of me to overlook that.” +</p> + +<p> +“And equally silly on my part,” replied the young man. “Well, on a +future occasion, we must avoid a similar mistake. Well, now about +lunch. I was going to suggest the <i>Berkeley</i> or the <i>Savoy</i>. But +perhaps we had better get off the beaten track?” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Stormont agreed. Several people she knew frequented both these +popular places. They finally went to a excellent restaurant in the +Strand. +</p> + +<p> +They had a very enjoyable time together. There was not a trace of +coquetry about her, but she seemed to envisage the situation with +perfect frankness. If Lydon had not been attracted by her, he would +not have asked her to lunch. If she had not been equally attracted by +him, she would not have accepted his invitation. They might therefore +take for granted the fact of their mutual attraction, and not pretend +an embarrassment they did not feel. +</p> + +<p> +When they parted, and he pressed for another meeting, she consented +quite readily, adding, “I hope, however, we shall not have to keep up +this <i>sub-rosa</i> business very long. Uncle was speaking last night of +you and saying how much he liked you. You can guess how difficult it +was to keep myself from blushing. I suggested that as he liked you so +much, why did he not ask you to pay a visit? He did not exactly adopt +the suggestion at once, but I’m sure the idea is germinating in his +mind and will presently blossom forth.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon looked the delight he felt. “So you think I may receive a formal +invitation to go down to Effington. That would be very pleasant. In +the meantime our engagement for next week holds good.” +</p> + +<p> +“Most certainly,” was the girl’s unaffected answer. He put her in a +taxi and directed the driver to take her to Waterloo Station. It was +not safe for him to go with her, much as he would have liked to do so. +At this hour of the day some of the early birds might be returning +home, and at this stage of the proceedings it was not politic for Miss +Stormont to be seen by any of her neighbours in the company of a +good-looking young man. +</p> + +<p> +The next week when he met her, almost the first words she said were, +“Have you heard from Uncle Howard?” +</p> + +<p> +He answered that he had not, and she proceeded to explain: “Well, the +idea has blossomed. Two days ago at breakfast, he announced solemnly +to auntie and myself that he was going to write to you at the address +in Ryder Street you gave him, and ask you down for a week-end. To-day +is Wednesday; you ought to have had the letter by now. But perhaps he +didn’t intend to ask you for this week-end but the next. Uncle is very +impetuous in some things but slow-moving in others. And if it is for +the following week, naturally he wouldn’t be in a hurry.” +</p> + +<p> +It was, however, this week-end that the genial Stormont had fixed in +his mind. When Lydon went home that night the precious letter was +awaiting him, having arrived by a midday post. If Mr. Lydon had no +previous engagement, would he spend next Saturday to Monday, or, if +possible, Tuesday, at Effington? If so, Stormont would meet him at +Waterloo by a certain train and they would go down together. +</p> + +<p> +Of course, he sent an immediate reply. So, at last, he was made free +of Effington; he would see his beloved Gloria in her own home, and be +able to feast his eyes upon her for several hours. If Howard Stormont +was as unconventional as his appearance and manners proclaimed, there +would be an end of the <i>sub-rosa</i> meetings. In these advanced days, +when the chaperone is nearly as extinct as the dodo, he would be able +to ask her openly to lunch with him when she came up to London to do +her shopping. It was a great step gained. +</p> + +<p> +On the Friday before his visit, he had a summons from Shelford, the +solicitor, who had heard from his agent in Nice. +</p> + +<p> +Elise Makris was alive, wonderful to relate. For some days the doctors +had entertained little or no hope. Then suddenly the tide had turned, +and she had made a remarkable rally. Three days before Shelford’s +letter of instructions reached Nice, she had been discharged from the +hospital, still somewhat weak, but in no danger of a relapse. She had +returned to the Villa des Cyclamens, which on the next day was +evacuated. Madame Makris had paid up all she owed, and she and her +daughter had gone away, nobody knew whither. +</p> + +<p> +The agent had made some inquiries of the police, and had also found +out the man employed by Craig in his researches into the past of the +girl whom he had so passionately loved and found so unworthy. He +gathered that she and her mother were members of a big organization +belonging to the exclusive circles of what might be called +aristocratic crookdom. Many of the subordinates were known to the +guardians of the law under different aliases, Madame Makris, a very +old offender, and her daughter being amongst them. But the chiefs of +the gang, the daring spirits who engineered the great coups, remained +in seclusion, men not only of great ability, but possibly of +considerable wealth. They never came out into the open, and nobody +could lay hands on them. +</p> + +<p> +So Elise Makris, after that lucky escape from her enraged lover’s +bullet, had disappeared where, in all human probability, no friend of +Hugh would ever be able to find her. She and her mother had no doubt +gone to another country, and would conceal their identity under other +names. That of Makris had been made too public by recent events. +</p> + +<p> +The only description Lydon had of her was a somewhat indefinite one, +taken from the <i>Phare du Littoral</i>, the Nice daily newspaper. There +were, however, two clues still remaining, if ever he should chance to +be thrown into contact with her. She would carry to her grave the mark +of her dead lover’s bullet; no surgery could obliterate that. And she +would wear that remarkable carved sapphire pendant which her mother +declared she always carried about with her as a mascot. By those signs +he would recognize Elise Makris under whatever alias she chose to +masquerade. +</p> + +<p> +“That seems to close the chapter,” remarked Mr. Shelford, when he had +imparted all that he had learned from his agent. “A terrible blow to +the Clandon family. I saw his brother yesterday; he tells me the old +people are prostrated with grief. That a man of the promise of Hugh +Craig, with a brilliant future stretching in front of him, should have +sought to imbrue his hands in the blood of such a shameless creature! +It passes comprehension.” +</p> + +<p> +On the Saturday morning Lydon met Stormont at Waterloo Station, and +they travelled down to Guildford together by an early train. At +Guildford they were met by a splendid Rolls-Royce car driven by one of +the smartest of chauffeurs. Profiteer or not, as the case might be, +Howard Stormont knew how to do things properly. +</p> + +<p> +They went through a few miles of the beautiful Surrey country, till +they came to some big open lodge gates. Passing through these, they +drove up a broad avenue, shadowed by some splendid trees which would +look magnificent later on in their summer raiment, and drew up before +the low picturesque house. +</p> + +<p> +The coming of the car had been heard evidently, for the hall door +stood wide open to receive the owner and his guest. Behind the +decorous form of the stately white-haired butler, Duncan, appeared the +gaily-apparelled Mrs. Barnard, and the slim exquisite figure of the +smiling Gloria. +</p> + +<p> +Stormont sprang out of the car and grasped Leonard’s hand in a hearty +grip. “Welcome, my dear boy, to Effington,” he said in his loud, +ringing voice. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch04"> +CHAPTER FOUR +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">There</span> was a big dinner party in the evening, somewhat to Leonard’s +disappointment. He had hoped they would have spent the first night by +themselves, so that he would have an opportunity of appropriating more +or less the charming Gloria. Instead of this, she would be lost to him +amidst a crowd. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps it was Howard Stormont’s way of impressing a new guest. Craig +had always said the man was a vulgarian at heart, and that the +vulgarity was always peeping through the thin veneer of a +lately-acquired refinement. Lydon was far from prepared to go this +length, but he did wish his host had avoided so much ostentation the +first time he sat at his table. +</p> + +<p> +The house was run on very magnificent lines, and the rather +overpowering sense of wealth depressed him a little. In spite of her +frank and unaffected manners, it made Gloria seem very far away from +him. Even if she reciprocated his feelings, how could he dare to think +of taking her from such a splendid home as this to share his own very +moderate fortunes? +</p> + +<p> +There were about a dozen people to dinner besides himself and the +Stormonts. The white-haired Duncan was assisted by four footmen. The +majority of the guests were neighbours, a few obviously with the stamp +of the county on them. Two married couples were London friends and had +come down to dine and stay the week-end like Lydon himself. The dinner +was a very lengthy affair, exquisitely cooked and served with the +utmost elegance. The wines and liqueurs were of unexceptionable +quality. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon’s father, probably a man of greater wealth than Stormont, had +lived in much the same profuse style. But Leonard had not seen a great +deal of it; he had been away from home so much. His own tastes were +very simple, and he had no hankerings after luxury. +</p> + +<p> +To judge by Howard Stormont’s beaming countenance, as he sat at his +end of the table, with a rather severe-looking “county” lady on his +right, he seemed to revel in it. Lydon did not think for a moment that +the man had been born to it; from many little signs he could deduce +the contrary. But possibly he was one of those ambitious souls to whom +magnificent surroundings seem a quite commonplace part of their +environment. What to Lydon seemed ostentation only appeared to the +other ordinary comfort. +</p> + +<p> +And what about Gloria? Was all this wealth and luxury, these dainty, +never-ending dishes, this army of deftly-trained servants an absolute +necessity of her well-being, as it seemed to that of her uncle and the +richly-dressed Mrs. Barnard, who beamed as benignly on their guests as +her portly and rubicund brother? +</p> + +<p> +Well, he did not know enough of her yet to decide. All he did know was +that she looked very beautiful in some soft shimmering fabric that +displayed to perfection the ivory white of her well-poised neck and +rounded arms. Now and then he caught a kindly glance, speaking of more +than ordinary acquaintance, from the soft, pretty blue eyes. Now and +again he caught her low, sweet laugh at some remark of her neighbour. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon had for his partner one of the county people, a young married +woman, Mrs. Lycett, not very remarkable for good looks, but very +lively and voluble. He learned afterwards that she was a very +important person in her set, by reason of her various accomplishments. +She was a keen and prominent golfer, a daring and fearless rider to +hounds, an adept at every kind of sport. +</p> + +<p> +As Lydon was no mean sportsman himself, he got on very well with this +voluble person, who chattered away to him about her prowess. But all +the same, Mrs. Lycett, with her vivid account of her feats in so many +departments of sport, could not make up to him for Gloria. She was an +athletic girl too, but she had not that slight touch of the masculine +which rather disfigured Mrs. Lycett, and, above all, Gloria did not +boast about her achievements. She was so distinctly feminine and +lovable. Long before the protracted meal was over, Leonard found +himself growing more than a little weary. He had not bargained for +being thrust so suddenly into a crowd of absolute strangers. He looked +back with pleasure on his two <i>sub-rosa</i> meetings with the beautiful +girl, whose glance he only occasionally met across the big +dinner-table. +</p> + +<p> +After dinner the men sat for a little time to smoke a cigarette and +then joined the ladies. Soon the large party split up into groups. +Some went to the billiard-room, most sat down to bridge. A few +clustered round the piano, where Gloria sang some very charming songs +in a well-trained voice. Lydon joined this particular group, not +because he was so keen on music, but from a desire to be as near to +Gloria as possible. +</p> + +<p> +At a fairly early hour in the evening, carriages were announced, and +the neighbours departed, almost in a body. Only the house party was +left, and after a little while the ladies took their candles, and the +men adjourned to the smoking-room, a handsome apartment decorated in +the Moorish style, for a final chat. The two visitors from London were +elderly men, contemporaries of the host, and their conversation was +chiefly about general topics in which the three were interested. +</p> + +<p> +The next day, Sunday, was, on the whole, quite enjoyable. Everybody +except one of the London men went to church in the morning. In the +afternoon, Leonard, to his great delight, got Gloria to himself, and +they went for a long walk from after lunch till close upon tea-time. +No other guests were present at dinner, for which the young man was +very grateful. The elderly people gravitated naturally to each other, +and left the young couple very much to themselves. +</p> + +<p> +They carried on a low-toned conversation at the far end of the big +drawing-room. In the course of it, Leonard suggested they should soon +have another lunch in town, Gloria was quite willing. “I think you can +suggest it quite openly now,” she said. “As a matter of fact, you can +include auntie if you like, but she will be quite certain to refuse. +She has so many interests at Effington and she so loves the place, +that it is difficult to drag her up to London except when she wants +new clothes. And really you might pay Uncle Howard the compliment +also, and, ten to one, the result would be the same. He takes a good +many holidays, but when he does go to his business he works like a +horse, so at least he tells us, and has no time for frivolity.” +</p> + +<p> +“Works hard and plays hard,” remarked Lydon. “So far as I can judge +from my short stay here, he seems to revel in the good things of +life.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Stormont smiled. “You have judged him quite accurately. My dear +old uncle is a perfect sybarite, a crumpled rose-leaf in his bed would +disturb him acutely. He likes the best of everything, ‘the best that +money can buy,’ as he puts it in his rather blunt fashion. The most +perfect food, the choicest cigars, the rarest wines. Of course he has +to dine out here a good deal, as he cannot affront his neighbours by +refusing. But the dear man really prefers entertaining to being +entertained.” +</p> + +<p> +“When he entertains, he is sure of the quality, eh? He knows he won’t +be put off with the second best,” laughed Lydon. “Away from home he +might get an inferior vintage or an inferior cigar.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid he has that idea at the back of his mind,” admitted his +niece. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if he should accept my invitation to lunch, I will take him to +my best club and allow him to order the luncheon,” said Lydon, +speaking in the same light spirit. “Well, what about Mrs. Barnard? Is +she a sybarite like her brother?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not in the least. Like me, her individual tastes are very simple, she +likes moderate comfort, but she has no hankering after luxury. She is +a frightfully energetic woman, busies herself in everything going on +in the neighbourhood, local charities and so forth, and writes letters +by the score. She would die of <i>ennui</i> if her hands were not fully +occupied. And, of course, at her time of life, sport has no attraction +for her. She is rather devoted to bridge, but she never plays it till +the evening.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon was very pleased to hear that Gloria had simple tastes, that +luxury was not essential to her. Presently he said to her: “Do you +know, I have got a little whim that I should like to have just another +of those quiet little meetings before we take the others into our +confidence. I wonder if you would very much mind?” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Stormont had one very delightful feminine trait, she was always +ready to admit the supremacy of the sterner sex, and give way to them +wherever it was consistent with her own dignity. +</p> + +<p> +“If you very much wish it, I don’t mind in the least,” she answered +sweetly. “But I would like to know the reason of this whim.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid I cannot give a very lucid explanation,” said the young +man rather lamely. “Somehow, I seem to like you in a somewhat less +gorgeous setting than this. You are housed like a Princess.” +</p> + +<p> +She looked at him with comprehending eyes. “Does it oppress you just a +little bit, this—this magnificence?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“A tiny bit, I must confess,” he admitted, admiring her quickness. +</p> + +<p> +She looked thoughtful. “I had rather the same feeling when I first +came to live with my uncle. My father has a good position in China, +but he is not of course a rich man, and our life out there was quite +simple compared to this. I am rather surprised though about you. From +what I am told, your father was quite a wealthy man, uncle says, much +richer than himself. You must have been used to it all your life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not quite. All the time we children were at school—and my dear +father gave us the best of educations, he thought that was the most +priceless asset a man could bestow upon his offspring—our home was +conducted upon a comfortable but perfectly modest scale. It was not +till after I left Oxford that he launched out into something like +this. And during those very fat years I was seldom at home. So I had +really no time to grow in love with luxury.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know that I am really in love with it. I mean it would cause +me no pain to descend to a much lower standard of living. But to uncle +all this is the breath of his nostrils; he is naturally one of the +most reckless and extravagant of men. He scatters money with an +absolutely lavish hand. I am sure that auntie, who, of course, knows +more about his affairs than I do, is often frightfully worried about +it. She has often tried to dissuade him from some contemplated +extravagance, but to no purpose.” +</p> + +<p> +These remarks gave rise to a new train of thought in Lydon’s mind. +Were things quite satisfactory at Effington? Was this army of servants +of all descriptions, footmen, gardeners and chauffeurs, perfectly +justifiable? If Howard Stormont was living within his income, why +should his sister be worried? Was the man one of those you so often +meet with, who can make money but cannot hold it? Was he living up to +the hilt, and might some sudden turn of fortune’s wheel bring him +headlong to the ground? He would have liked to question Gloria a +little closely on the subject, but their acquaintance was too recent +for him to take such a liberty. No doubt he would learn more later on. +</p> + +<p> +But if it was the fact that, in his selfish desire for luxury, he was +spending money as fast as he made it, and putting by nothing for a +rainy day, something that had puzzled Lydon became easily capable of +explanation. In this case, Gloria would not be an heiress, and her +uncle had not formed any grandiose plans for her future. He would be +content if she could marry a man who would keep her comfortably, and +not expect any fortune with her. +</p> + +<p> +And, as a result of this hypothesis, Howard Stormont fell distinctly +in his estimation. He was simply living for his own gratification, +oblivious of those he left behind; in Lydon’s opinion, the most +contemptible conduct any man could be capable of. +</p> + +<p> +On Monday morning the two elderly couples departed. The young man +would have gone also, but on the Sunday night Stormont took him on one +side and pressed him to stop another day, if his business engagements +would permit. +</p> + +<p> +“I very rarely go up on a Monday myself, unless there is something +very urgent,” he had said. “And, at my age, I think I may be permitted +to allow myself a little latitude. I simply love pottering about this +dear old place; although I have had it for some time now, it is still +a new toy to me, after being pent up in cities nearly the whole of my +working life. Stop till Tuesday morning, and we will go up together.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon, nothing loath, agreed to the pleasing proposition. The Monday +was the happiest day of his visit. Soon after breakfast Stormont went +off on his own. Mrs. Barnard was fully occupied during the morning and +afternoon, and he had Gloria practically to himself until it was time +to dress for dinner. +</p> + +<p> +That evening in the smoking-room Lydon told his host what Hugh had +disclosed in that letter which the solicitor, Shelford, had handed to +him. He fancied that Stormont did not take very much interest in the +matter. This, however, was hardly to be wondered at, as Hugh had +always treated the man with a certain <i>hauteur</i> which he could not +have helped observing, had he been a much less intelligent person than +he was. When the story was finished, Lydon learned a piece of the +Clandon family history that was unknown to him. +</p> + +<p> +“A very remarkable family, the Clandons; I know a little about them,” +he remarked. +</p> + +<p> +It was by no means the first time the young man had noticed that +Stormont always seemed to know a good deal about everybody who was of +any importance in the world. According to what Gloria had let drop, he +knew that Lydon’s father had been a man of considerable wealth. He +rather wondered where this information was procured. Stormont of +course knew a great many people about Effington, but so much gossip of +the big world would hardly filter there. He had never heard him speak +of numerous acquaintances in London, and so far as Leonard knew, he +did not belong to any London club, a circumstance which in a man of +his apparent wealth seemed rather peculiar. +</p> + +<p> +“A very remarkable family, the Clandons,” repeated the genial, +rubicund man. “Remarkable in this respect, that for some generations +they have transmitted to their descendants a very high order of +intelligence. They have never produced any first-class brains, it is +true. They have never boasted a Prime Minister, a great general, a +distinguished lawyer, but several of them have filled second and +third-rate posts with some distinction. This poor chap who killed +himself after trying to murder the girl, for example. I don’t suppose +he would have been a Stratford de Redcliffe, or a von Bieberstein, but +he would no doubt have developed into a quite respectable diplomatist +of the average order.” +</p> + +<p> +It hurt Lydon to hear him speak of his old friend in such a slighting +manner. But Hugh had certainly taken no pains to conceal his dislike +of “the aggressive profiteer,” and Stormont was human. The next words +startled him greatly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, as I told you, I know some things about the Clandon family, one +a fact not at all generally known. By the light of that knowledge, +your friend’s act can be accounted for. There was insanity on both +sides, the mother’s and the father’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“You astound me,” cried Lydon in genuine amazement. “I never had a +suspicion of this. But then how should I have? Even if Hugh was +acquainted with the fact, which it is more than likely he was, he +would scarcely reveal it even to his best friend.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so,” assented Stormont. “Men don’t speak of these painful +things as a rule. But you can rest assured that what I have told you +is quite true. The uncle of the present holder of the title, Hugh +Craig’s father, a man of good fortune, endowed with all the blessings +of life, cut his throat in his bath one morning without any apparent +reason or motive; this man’s sister, Lord Clandon’s aunt, died a +raving lunatic. On the mother’s side, Lady Clandon has a younger +brother who has been in a private asylum for the last twenty-five +years. It is not generally known outside the family. My sources of +information happened to be rather exclusive. So you see the taint +suddenly developed in this poor chap as soon as he got an overpowering +shock.” +</p> + +<p> +So the family history accounted for poor Hugh’s sudden aberration. The +mysterious malady of madness that sometimes passes a whole generation, +to break out with virulence in the next one! +</p> + +<p> +On the Tuesday morning Leonard travelled up with his host. They parted +at Waterloo Station, as Stormont said his offices were in the City, +while those of Leonard were in Victoria Street. The young man was +warmly pressed to pay another visit to Effington at an early date. +</p> + +<p> +Obviously this genial uncle was not going to put any obstacle in the +way of increased intimacy between the young people. The very +significant facts admitted by Gloria seemed to solve what might +otherwise have proved a puzzling problem. Mr. Howard Stormont had +apparently made up his mind to live for the day, and to say with the +French monarch, “Après moi le déluge.” +</p> + +<p> +A few days later he met Gloria at the luncheon which she had agreed +should be a secret one. She was very sweet and amiable, but evidently +her conscience pricked her, for when they parted she told him firmly +it must be the last under such conditions. +</p> + +<p> +“There is really no longer any necessity for it,” she said. “Uncle +likes you very much, and he has now made you free of Effington. If he +disapproved of our friendship, he would not ask you to his home.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are quite right,” admitted Lydon. “It was a foolish sort of whim +of mine. I could not quite get it out of my mind that if I took such a +liberty with the niece of the owner of such a splendid place as +Effington Hall, he would send me to the right-about.” +</p> + +<p> +Gloria laughed, told him that he seemed an exceedingly modest young +man, and hoped he would always remain so. It was evident that Stormont +desired his friendship, for on the following Friday he rang him up, +and inquired if he would go down with him to Effington the next day. +</p> + +<p> +Of course, the young man was only too pleased to go. He had not +ventured to hope that he would see Gloria again so soon. Stormont was +at the station awaiting him, and with him was a tall, thin man of +about the same age as himself, whom he introduced as Mr. Whitehouse. +This gentleman was a quiet, reserved sort of person, and Lydon did not +feel particularly attracted to him. Stormont added an explanation that +they were very old friends, and did a good deal of business together. +As he said this, Leonard remembered that he had never heard the nature +of Stormont’s business either from himself or his niece. +</p> + +<p> +This visit was quite a different one from the last. No big dinner +party at night with the army of well-trained servants in attendance; +just a cosy meal in a smaller apartment, half morning-room, half +dining-room. Mr. Whitehouse seemed well known to the household, but he +was not by any means a great talker. Probably he had come down to +discuss business matters with his host. +</p> + +<p> +After dinner the two elder men retired to Stormont’s study. Lydon went +with the ladies into the drawing-room, Stormont excusing his absence +with the genial remark that they were treating him as one of the +family. +</p> + +<p> +After Gloria had played and sung a little, she proposed that they +should adjourn for billiards, a game at which she was no mean +performer. The billiard-room was next to Stormont’s study, the door of +which was open, and as they went in Lydon heard these words uttered in +Whitehouse’s rather deep voice: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it is most unfortunate that the thing should have happened at +the moment it did. She is absolutely essential to this particular +scheme. We can’t start it without her.” +</p> + +<p> +These words made the young man wonder a good deal. What possible +business could it be, to the prosecution of which a certain woman was +essential? +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch05"> +CHAPTER FIVE +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">He</span> had always felt curious on the subject of Stormont’s business, +one which evidently brought him in a large income, for how otherwise +could he have maintained the upkeep of such an expensive place as +Effington. It was strange, too, that the man had never made any +allusion to it himself, more especially as he did not appear to be of +a reticent or secretive nature. With the majority of persons it is not +necessary to know them for very long before they let drop something +that proclaims their occupation. +</p> + +<p> +He had told the Stormonts all about himself on the occasion of his +second meeting with them at Brighton, without any reserve. If he had +foregathered more intimately with them at Nice, he would have told +them then. Even with such a very reticent man as Craig, you could not +have been in his society for a few hours without learning that he was +a member of the diplomatic corps. It certainly was odd that Stormont +never dropped a remark that enabled you to fix his occupation. He +occasionally spoke of himself as a business man, and that was all. +</p> + +<p> +To carry on any sort of business, he must have an office or offices +somewhere, and presumably they were in London. But Stormont had never +given him the address. Only once, when they had travelled together up +to London and parted at Waterloo, he had mentioned that he was bound +for the City, a sufficiently vague definition. +</p> + +<p> +Those words he had overheard uttered by the man Whitehouse aggravated +the curiosity he had for long felt on the subject since he had become +so intimately acquainted with the family. +</p> + +<p> +Very delicately he questioned Gloria as they proceeded with their game +in the billiard-room. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose business does not take up all your uncle’s time? He spends +a good deal of it in this delightful place,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +There was not the slightest hesitation in the girl’s reply. He had +long ago made up his mind that everything about Gloria Stormont was +open and above-board. How frank she had been about herself, and her +youthful days in China with her father and mother. +</p> + +<p> +“I shouldn’t say he went up to London more than three days a week on +an average; his heart has been wrapt up in Effington ever since he +bought it from young Sedgemere a few years ago. When we lived in +London itself, he used to work much harder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you lived in London before you came here,” said Leonard, who +learned this fact for the first time. Certainly Stormont was a very +reticent fellow about strictly personal matters. He had never made any +allusion to a previous home which, from his intense fondness for rural +life, the young man fancied might have been in the country. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, we had a dear old eighteenth-century house in Curzon Street. It +was very comfortable and convenient, but my aunt and I welcomed the +change as much as he did. I should hate to go back to town life again +after this sweet Effington.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you had a very large circle of acquaintances in town?” +asked Lydon, still pursuing his questioning. +</p> + +<p> +“Not large at all, considering the fact that my uncle seemed so well +off,” was the frank answer. “He honestly owns that he is not very fond +of general society. He has a few friends who come down here now and +again. There were some of them with us on your first visit. Of course +we know a lot of people round about here, in fact a great many more +than in London.” +</p> + +<p> +“You travel a great deal, don’t you? Mr. Stormont seems well +acquainted with all the principal places in Europe.” This was one of +the subjects on which her uncle had not been reticent. His knowledge +of the Continent, of the customs and habits of the different foreign +nations, was extensive and exhaustive, and he always seemed pleased to +air it. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, uncle is a tremendous traveller; he has been everywhere and seen +everything; but he has not travelled so much since we have been here, +a matter of some five years. Before that he used to be away the +greater part of the year. Sometimes my aunt and I went with him, but +usually he went alone. His business took him a good deal abroad, you +know.” +</p> + +<p> +Here was the opportunity he had been waiting for, and he hastened to +seize it. “It seems rather funny, one learns these things so soon, as +a rule. But I have never heard what your uncle’s business is.” +</p> + +<p> +Gloria’s reply was perfectly free from embarrassment. “It is connected +with finance; I suppose he is what you call a financier.” +</p> + +<p> +So the secret was out: the owner of Effington Hall was a financier. +Well, there were a good many people belonging to that profession, some +of them quite reputable, controlling vast interests, some of them +quite the reverse, addicted to very shady doings. No doubt the +rubicund Stormont was one of the respectable ones, but why the deuce +had he been so reticent about it? The proper pursuit of finance was +quite a respectable calling. When a man does not openly mention his +occupation, his silence rather gives you the idea he is secretly +ashamed of it. +</p> + +<p> +It was quite within the bounds of possibility that Stormont was not +amongst the high spirits of the financial world, that his activities +inclined a little to the shady side of the profession. But if that +were so, would he have had the hardihood to buy Effington, and run the +gauntlet of the respectable people of the neighbourhood? +</p> + +<p> +On the Sunday morning Stormont absented himself from church, contrary +to his usual custom. Mr. Whitehouse remained at home to keep him +company. All the others went as they had done on the previous +occasion. Lydon had a shrewd suspicion that the two men wanted to be +alone to discuss business affairs. Evidently matters were settled +during the morning, for the two men did not shut themselves up again +during the rest of the day. +</p> + +<p> +Whitehouse might possibly be an excellent man of business, but he was +not a lively or inspiring person. Grave and taciturn to a degree, he +spoke very little, and only when addressed directly by his host or +some other member of the party. He did not volunteer conversation. +From a few hints dropped by Gloria, Leonard gathered that the women +rather disliked him, and looked upon him as a wet blanket. +</p> + +<p> +In reply to further questioning, Miss Stormont said that he used to be +a frequent visitor to Curzon Street; but since they had taken up their +residence at Effington, he came somewhat infrequently, not more than +three or four times in the year, and then only for a stay of a day or +two. She understood that he and her uncle had been connected in +business for many years and that they had a very great regard for each +other. +</p> + +<p> +Whitehouse left directly after breakfast on the Monday morning, and +Lydon hailed his departure with pleasure. There was something rather +repellent about the man, with his taciturnity, his unsmiling gravity, +his deep-set eyes and sombre gaze. For himself, he accepted Stormont’s +cordial invitation to stay another day, during which he enjoyed the +society of the charming Gloria to the full. +</p> + +<p> +He had expected that his host would accompany him to town on the +Tuesday morning, but Stormont announced that, as the weather was so +fine, he had made up his mind to take a week’s holiday. Lydon thought +it must be a very accommodating business that allowed him so much +leisure, more especially in view of the fact, inadvertently dropped by +Gloria, that he was in a certain sense living from hand to mouth, at +any rate spending money as fast as he made it. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Barnard said good-bye to him in the dining-room after breakfast. +Stormont and his niece went with him into the hall. When he had shaken +hands with them, rather a lingering process in the case of Gloria, +Stormont detained him with a gesture, and went out to tell the +chauffeur to drive down to the lodge gates and await them there. “Just +a word with you, my boy, before you go,” he said, linking his arm in +that of the young man and conducting him slowly down the avenue, +leaving a rather surprised Gloria behind. +</p> + +<p> +When they were well out of earshot, he spoke. “Look here, my dear +Leonard, I hope you don’t mind me calling you by your Christian name, +but I think we are now intimate enough to excuse the liberty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not in the least,” answered Lydon, who wondered what was coming. +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks. I want to tell you that I’m not blind, neither is my sister. +You are in love with Gloria, aren’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +Leonard was rather taken aback by the direct question. In his +confusion he could not make any coherent reply. “I am,” he stammered, +“But, of course, I—I—I——” He could not finish the sentence. +</p> + +<p> +“I quite understand, my dear fellow,” said Stormont, his broad +rubicund face relaxing into a smile. “You admit you love Gloria. I +wanted you to be quite frank and open with me in the matter. I don’t +wonder at it, for she is a sweet girl, one out of a thousand, +charming, honest, open as the day. Well, I will let you into a little +secret. If my observations are correct, I believe she returns your +affection. My sister thinks so too, and women can read each other +pretty well as a rule.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke in his hearty, breezy way. In spite of Craig’s caustic +criticism of him, there was something engaging about the personality +of the homely-looking man. Lydon could not help flushing. “It makes me +inexpressibly happy, sir, to hear you say that. I take it, from your +telling me so much, that you do not disapprove. Have I your permission +to speak to Miss Stormont?” +</p> + +<p> +“When and as soon as you please,” was the hearty response, “I had half +made up my mind to tell you yesterday. I wish I had; I dare say by now +I should have been congratulating you and my niece. Personally I am +very pleased that you have fixed your affections on Gloria. So is Mrs. +Barnard, who is a shrewd judge of character. In common with myself, +she likes you very much and thinks you would make an excellent +husband. Well, I can’t say more, can I? Run down here again next week, +and fix it up. Come as often as you like. My sister and I love young +people about the house.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon thanked him in warm terms for having made his wooing so easy. +True, Gloria had not yet revealed her feelings, but in his heart he +had not much doubt as to what they were. +</p> + +<p> +But Stormont had not yet said all he wanted. As they drew near to the +lodge gates, where the car was waiting, he motioned the young man to a +halt. +</p> + +<p> +“Just a little something more, to make everything plain and clear. +Very possibly you have thought that Gloria is the niece of a rich man +and will come into a tidy sum when I die?” +</p> + +<p> +The young man interrupted him hastily. “I assure you, on my word of +honour, Mr. Stormont, I never speculated on such a contingency. If I +gave it a thought, I was rather depressed by the circumstance than +otherwise. I felt a natural reluctance to ask a girl brought up so +luxuriously to share a very modest fortune.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re not the sort of which fortune-hunters are made. I could see +that at a glance, or I should not have been so open with you,” was the +generous reply. He sank his voice very low when he continued: “Well, I +must let you into a little secret which I think nobody suspects. I am +not in the true sense of the term a rich man. I make plenty of money +and I believe I shall continue to do, if my luck holds, as long as I +live. But I am an incurable spendthrift; I fritter as fast as I make. +Of course, you are a totally different temperament from me. At such an +admission you will shrug your shoulders and think I am an insensate +fool.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon preserved an embarrassed silence. Had he expressed in words what +he really felt, they would have been far from palatable to the hearer. +</p> + +<p> +After a short pause, Stormont spoke in a tone of considerable emotion, +as if he were voicing his real remorse. “You cannot blame me any more +than I blame myself. But this love of spending for spending’s sake, +when it once gets hold of a man, is as deadly as any other form of +vice, as drink or gambling. Dozens of times I have tried to check +myself, to act prudently, but to no purpose.” +</p> + +<p> +Again there was a pause, and again Lydon could find nothing to say, +since if he had spoken he would have been compelled to condemn, in no +measured terms, the man’s contemptible and selfish weakness. +</p> + +<p> +And Stormont went on in that half-apologetic, wholly shamed voice. “So +when I do die, I shall have lived my life to the full, but I shall +leave next to nothing behind. Mrs. Barnard is provided for; she will +always be able to live in comfort, and luxury makes little appeal to +her. It is on Gloria’s account that I feel remorse, the selfishness of +my conduct.” +</p> + +<p> +And then at last the young man found something to say: “There is one +thing I should like to tell you, Mr. Stormont, without attempting to +criticize you in any way, a thing I have no right to do. So far as +Gloria is concerned, I am glad she is not likely to be an heiress. I +love her for herself. I want no dowry with her.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is just what I should have expected from you,” replied the +rubicund financier with a rather melancholy smile. “Well, things may +not turn out so badly for Gloria after all. My brother, her father, is +the exact opposite of myself, a prudent, evenly-balanced man who +counts the cost of everything, looks long before he leaps, and I +should say out of every pound he earns, saves ten shillings. He has a +splendid position, and only another child, a son. He is one of the +justest men I know, and whatever he leaves—I’ll wager it will be no +mean sum—will be divided equitably between his family. So my dear +Gloria may be an heiress in a small way, in the end. Now I have kept +you talking too long, you have got your train to catch. Good-bye for +the present. We shall expect you next week.” +</p> + +<p> +The two men shook hands and Lydon drove to the station, thinking very +much over Stormont’s somewhat humiliating confession. How deceitful +are appearances! In the eyes of the local circle round Effington, the +man with his lavish expenditure must have passed as a person of +considerable wealth. And yet the real truth was that he was living, in +a sense, from hand to mouth, and that any day might see him stripped +of his fair possessions. +</p> + +<p> +Well, the way was perfectly clear to him now. He would run down again +next week and ask Gloria to marry him. He would make a lucid statement +of his position to her uncle, if he were not already aware of it. +Stormont was a weak man, a foolish man in most important respects, but +he was certainly not simple-minded, and he seemed to possess an +amazing amount of information about other people. He had probably seen +a report of the elder Lydon’s will in the papers soon after his death, +and knew the exact extent of Leonard’s fortune. +</p> + +<p> +The next week, availing himself of Stormont’s general invitation, he +went down on the Friday, having written his host to that effect. The +car met him as usual at the station, and to his great delight Gloria +was on the platform to meet him. This was, of course, the first time +she had ever done such a thing, as on the previous occasions he had +travelled down with her uncle. +</p> + +<p> +When they reached the lodge gates, Lydon halted the car and suggested +to the girl that they should walk up the avenue. She agreed, not +without blushing slightly. He had been unusually quiet during the +journey, as if he were pondering very deeply. No doubt with womanly +intuition she guessed what was in his mind. +</p> + +<p> +Having resolved upon the step he was taking, he lost no time; as soon +as the chauffeur was out of earshot, he spoke: +</p> + +<p> +“I was delighted to see you on the platform; somehow it seemed so +intimate. The last time I was at Effington, your uncle brought me +along here, and we had a very serious talk together. Perhaps he has +told you something of this?” +</p> + +<p> +With a deep blush, the girl admitted that he was correct in his +surmise, and this answer encouraged him to proceed. +</p> + +<p> +“I love you very much, Gloria. I wonder if you can care for me a +little.” +</p> + +<p> +Her bosom heaved, there was a tender light in the deep blue eyes, her +lips trembled slightly as she gave him her answer: “I think I can care +for you more than a little.” +</p> + +<p> +The car by now had reached the stables: a bend in the avenue hid the +lodge gates: there was nobody in sight. He did what any lover worthy +of the name would do under such circumstances. He bent down and +pressed his first kiss upon the sweet lips that made a tremulous +response to his. He and this charming girl, whom he knew he had fallen +in love with at first sight, were now betrothed lovers. +</p> + +<p> +They walked up to the entrance to the picturesque Tudor house, both +perhaps a little shy from their new-found happiness, the great event +that had happened in their young lives. The door was wide open. +Stormont and his sister stood in the hall to greet them; there was no +white-haired butler, no inconvenient servants to extend a silent +welcoming. Lydon shook hands with his host and hostess, and then +turned with a radiant face to his fiancée. +</p> + +<p> +“Gloria has made me very happy,” he said simply, by way of announcing +the tremendous fact. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Barnard first kissed her niece, and then bestowed an affectionate +salute upon Leonard. Stormont literally hugged Gloria and wrung the +young man’s hand heartily. “We must celebrate this at once,” he cried +in his loud, ringing voice. “Come along. There is only one wine worthy +of the occasion. I have still left in the cellar a few bottles of a +matchless Krug. We will open one.” +</p> + +<p> +And, as they went along to the dining-room, Stormont and his sister +leading the way, the young couple following them, Gloria laid her +slender hand on her lover’s arm and whispered, “You have made me very +happy too, dear.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch06"> +CHAPTER SIX +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">The</span> week-end was a very quiet one, Lydon being the only guest. The +young man thought this might be due to Stormont’s delicacy, that he +felt it was only kind to allow the lovers to pursue their courtship in +comparative seclusion. But in the following week the phenomenon was +repeated. Nobody came down from London; none of the neighbours were +asked to luncheon or dinner. +</p> + +<p> +Stormont occupied his time in pottering about the grounds and taking +long walks. But there was a certain restlessness about him, an air of +boredom which showed that this somewhat unusual isolation was not +agreeing with him. Leonard commented on it to his sweetheart. +</p> + +<p> +Gloria shrugged her shoulders. “He’s always like that when he leads a +quiet life; he is never really happy unless he is surrounded by plenty +of people. He loves crowds.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps he is sacrificing himself for our sakes,” suggested Leonard. +</p> + +<p> +The girl’s smile was good-humoured but sceptical. “Uncle Howard has a +heap of good qualities, but I don’t think self-sacrifice is +conspicuous amongst them. To tell you the truth, I think he is going a +bit slow because he is compelled to.” +</p> + +<p> +They were walking in the beautifully-kept gardens which required a +small army of gardeners to keep in order, and must have cost a pretty +penny to maintain in such perfection. +</p> + +<p> +Only one interpretation could be put upon her words. “You mean to +infer that he is a bit hard up,” said Lydon bluntly. +</p> + +<p> +She nodded her pretty head. “Yes, from what auntie told me, he has +been spending a lot more than he ought, and has got to pull up for a +time. These sorts of crises occur now and again. We have had about a +dozen of them at least since we came here, and at such times +entertaining has to be cut down with a ruthless hand. In Curzon Street +I don’t suppose the outgoings were a quarter what they are here. +Auntie says he ought never to have bought the place, considering the +expense it entails. He gets a lot of enjoyment out of it, of course, +but he also gets a lot of worry.” +</p> + +<p> +“And yet I suppose he is a shrewd business man?” +</p> + +<p> +“He must be, or he could not make the money he does. But you see he +has got the spendthrift temperament. If he takes a fancy to a thing, +he will have it, whether he can afford it or not. And the fatal thing +about him, and it is that which worries my aunt more, he has no +hesitation about going into debt, if he hasn’t got ready money to pay +for his whims.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your aunt does not share his extravagant ideas, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, dear no. She has a nice little income of her own which she lives +up to, but I am sure she never exceeds it. And she has a most +wholesome horror of debt. I know she is awfully worried now because +some of the tradespeople’s accounts are overdue; they are getting a +bit pressing.” +</p> + +<p> +Delightful as Effington was, and perfectly satisfying to the lover of +natural beauty, Lydon thought residence there was dearly purchased by +these crises to which she had alluded. So Mr. Stormont was behindhand +with the local tradespeople! What a horrible situation! They would +begin to gossip presently, and then the bubble would be burst amongst +the neighbours. +</p> + +<p> +“There was a perfect orgy of spending for a couple of months just +before you paid us your first visit,” said Gloria after a short pause +during which her lover was ruminating on the hollowness of the +position at this splendid country residence. “A big dinner party +nearly every day in the week, on the usual lavish scale, and all this +time he was giving liberally, not to say ostentatiously, to all the +local charities. I suppose it was then he overran the constable. You +came in at the fag end of it. Since then the motto seems to have been +retrenchment all round, with a disastrous effect on my uncle’s +spirits.” +</p> + +<p> +“These crises worry you a good bit, don’t they?” queried her lover. +</p> + +<p> +“To tell the truth, they do. Much as I love the place—and nobody +could live at Effington without loving it—I often wish that we could +have a place that entailed smaller outgoings. And, of course, one is +always haunted by the fear that one day he will get himself into a +terrible mess from which he cannot extricate himself.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon thought this very possible. It was very likely the spendthrift +himself had some premonition of such a catastrophe, and that was the +reason he had almost thrown his niece at the young man’s head. In +spite of her fondness for Effington, perhaps Gloria herself would not +be sorry to exchange all this for a position of less magnificence and +greater security. +</p> + +<p> +Had he not been convinced of her frank, open nature he might have +thought that the girl had been in league with her uncle to secure him. +But he was sure of her good faith and honesty of purpose. He +remembered her agitation when he had proposed to her in the avenue, +the love-light that had shone in her beautiful eyes. No woman, not +even the most practised coquette, can summon that light at will. +</p> + +<p> +He did not see his sweetheart at all the following week. The stern +exigencies of his profession called him abroad. At Ryder Street, on +his return, he found a letter from Stormont awaiting him, asking him +to lunch the following day at the <i>Piccadilly</i>, as he wished to +consult him on a matter of some urgency. +</p> + +<p> +Very curious as to what this matter of some urgency could be, Lydon +presented himself at the <i>Piccadilly</i> at the hour appointed. He +noticed a decided change in Stormont in the short time he had parted +from him at his splendid country house. The man’s manner was restless +and jerky, and he looked anxious and worried. +</p> + +<p> +He ordered a very sumptuous lunch, the most expensive food and wine on +the list. Lydon found it far too sumptuous; he was not accustomed to a +heavy meal in the middle of the day, in fact, was not very keen on the +pleasures of the table at any time. Stormont drank by far the greater +portion of the champagne, and finished up with a couple of liqueurs of +the finest brandy. During the progress of the meal he talked fitfully, +and it was easy to see he had something weighing on his mind; but he +made no allusion to the subject on which he wanted the young man’s +advice. It rather looked as if he were justifying himself before he +could approach it. +</p> + +<p> +When they had finished, he led the way into the smoking-room, where he +selected a quiet corner suitable for private conversation, and ordered +refreshment. Lydon would take nothing but a cup of coffee. For himself +he ordered a large whisky and soda. When he had taken a deep draught, +he unburdened himself, not without a considerable tinge of +embarrassment in his manner. +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid you will think I am taking an infernal liberty, Leonard, +so early in our acquaintance. But the fact is, at the moment I am in a +bit of a hole, and hardly know where to turn.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon had an idea of what was coming, by the man’s fidgetiness and +embarrassment, which had been patent from the moment they met. He +murmured some conventional words of condolence, and waited for further +details. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m expecting a sum of five thousand pounds in a week at the latest, +in fact I may receive it any day between now and then. In the meantime +there are some pressing things I ought to pay. Would it be possible +for you to lend me a thousand pounds for a week, at a fair interest, +of course?” +</p> + +<p> +It was rather a cool request, even to a man who was about to enter his +family. Leonard was by no means a parsimonious man, but he rather +resented it. Why the deuce did he not manage his finances properly, +curb his extravagance, instead of sponging upon somebody apparently +much poorer than himself? +</p> + +<p> +He spoke rather coldly; he thought that if he made it too easy, Mr. +Stormont would be encouraged to fall back upon him at any time he +thought fit. “It’s a bit inconvenient, but if you can’t get it +anywhere else, I must do it. Won’t your bank do it?” +</p> + +<p> +Stormont shook his head. “The manager is a very cross-grained chap, +puts every obstacle in the way of doing you a favour. And, to tell you +the truth, I am just a trifle overdrawn. It is not the most propitious +time to ask for even a short loan.” +</p> + +<p> +This admission revealed a terrible state of things, thought Lydon. +Just a trifle overdrawn! He had probably drawn his last cheque to pay +for the unnecessarily expensive lunch, unless he had borrowed the +money from his sister. The solid fact emerged that Howard Stormont, +who had driven up to the <i>Piccadilly</i> in his Rolls-Royce, the supposed +man of wealth, the owner of that lordly pleasure-house, Effington +Hall, was at the present moment as hard up as anybody could be. And he +appeared to have no credit, no husbanded resources. He was awaiting +that five thousand which was to come not later than a week, which +might come earlier, which, for all the young man knew, might never +come at all. That request for a thousand pounds might be the last +throw of a desperate gambler. +</p> + +<p> +Still, if he was going to run the risk, he might as well do the thing +gracefully. “Can you deposit anything in the way of security, in case +of unforeseen accidents?” he inquired casually. He was fairly certain +of what the answer would be, but he wanted to make quite sure as to +whether or not Stormont had any resources. +</p> + +<p> +Again the financier shook his head. “Nothing that you could call +absolute security,” he replied, his rubicund face growing a shade +redder as he made the damaging admission. “I could, of course, show +you papers proving there is a lot of money coming to me. But as the +accommodation is for so short a time, I should suggest my note of hand +for the amount, plus interest.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want any interest,” said the young man hastily. “I am not a +money-lender. I am doing this in a friendly way. Well, I’ve a busy +afternoon before me, so, if you don’t mind, we’ll settle this affair +as soon as possible. Drive me round to my rooms in Ryder Street and I +will give you my cheque; I have as much lying at the bank which I was +intending to invest. We can get a bill at the nearest post-office as +we go along.” +</p> + +<p> +But there was no necessity for this; Stormont had a bill of the +required amount in his case. He explained that he always carried bill +stamps with him, as they were so frequently used in his business +dealings. Lydon did not quite believe this. He thought the man had +taken his acquiescence for granted, and had come prepared. +</p> + +<p> +They drove to Ryder Street, and in five minutes the transaction was +completed. The rubicund Stormont put the cheque in his pocket, it +being too late in the afternoon to pay it in, and drove back to +Effington in his opulent-looking car, leaving Lydon wondering whether +he should ever see his money back, whether that five thousand pounds +was a myth invented for the occasion. +</p> + +<p> +It was on the Tuesday that this affair took place, and it was +understood that Lydon would go down to Effington on the following +Friday. His confidence in Stormont was now so rudely shaken that he +was prepared for anything unexpected to happen in the meantime. He +would not have been surprised to receive a frantic letter from him to +the effect that he was flying the country, that Mrs. Barnard and +Gloria were seeking refuge in some suburb round London, and that +Effington Hall was up for sale. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon rather wondered what was his position with regard to this +splendid mansion. Originally he must have been able to put his hands +on a considerable sum of money for its purchase. In all probability it +was now mortgaged up to the hilt. +</p> + +<p> +Happily, nothing of such a disturbing nature happened. On his arrival +at Guildford Station, Gloria met him in the car. She was, of course, +delighted to see him again after his brief absence; but her lover +fancied there was just a shade of embarrassment in her manner, the +reason of which he presently learned as they drove along. +</p> + +<p> +“There is a renewal of festivities which are such an abiding joy to my +uncle’s soul,” she said, speaking in a hard voice. “To-night we’ve a +dinner-party of a dozen people, all neighbours; nobody is staying in +the house but you.” +</p> + +<p> +So the rubicund Stormont had resumed his extravagant habits the moment +he found himself in possession of a bit of money. He had no doubt paid +off some pressing old debts, and was feverishly incurring new ones. +The young man had no desire to face a lot of strangers, but perhaps +this dinner-party was, in a way, a healthy sign. Even Stormont would +not have been so rash as to fritter away his last shilling if he were +not sure that salvation was close at hand. Lydon was relieved to think +that this five thousand pounds was not a myth, but a solid fact. +</p> + +<p> +Gloria went on in low and embarrassed tones: “I cannot say how ashamed +and humiliated I am that he should have come to you. I only heard it +this morning from my aunt, who thought I ought to be told. When he +mentioned to her that he was going to apply to you, she did all in her +power to dissuade him from making such a request, but all to no +purpose. The fact of it is, he is not a man who feels any shame in +borrowing.” +</p> + +<p> +He could see plainly that she was very much distressed, and he +hastened to console her. “My darling, there is really nothing for you +to worry about. I am sorry your uncle was put about, but he made it +clear to me it was quite a temporary embarrassment, and I was very +pleased to be of service to him. Such a thing might happen to +anybody—might have happened to myself.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl spoke with some heat. “It is very sweet of you to try and +restore my self-respect, but it would never have happened to you. You +are the last man in the world to spend your money on riotous living +and then go with a pitiful tale to a friend. Why did he not go to one +of his business friends, if he was forced to borrow, or, better still, +sell some of the valuable things he has got at Effington?” +</p> + +<p> +She was evidently stung to the quick that her happy-go-lucky uncle had +exploited the young man’s affection for herself in order to replenish +his exhausted exchequer. Lydon himself could not help thinking it was +a mean thing to do, in spite of his making light of it to her. +</p> + +<p> +The dinner-party was a great success. Stormont beamed on his guests as +genially as ever, and was in the highest spirits. As he sat at the +table he gave the impression of a man who had not a care in the world. +Lydon could hardly understand such a swift alteration of mood, of the +change from the haggard, harassed man of a few days ago to this jovial +creature who laughed and joked with the greatest ease. But then he did +not comprehend the mercurial temperament of the incurable spendthrift. +</p> + +<p> +The Saturday was to be a comparatively quiet day, Gloria told him, +there being only two guests expected. The taciturn Mr. Whitehouse was +bringing down his niece, Zillah Mayhew, to lunch. But their visit +would not be a very long one. They were returning to London by an +afternoon train. +</p> + +<p> +The words that he had overheard that night when he had passed the door +of Stormont’s study recurred to him at the mention of Miss Mayhew’s +name. Was this the woman whose co-operation was essential to some +business there was on hand? “What sort of a girl is she?” asked the +young man. “Not as gloomy as her uncle, I trust?” +</p> + +<p> +Gloria smiled. “She is the exact opposite, most bright and vivacious, +really quite charming. I haven’t seen her more than half a dozen times +in my life, but I took a great fancy to her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does she live with the solemn Whitehouse?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not permanently. Uncle has never told me much about her history, but +I know that her parents are dead, that she has a little income of her +own, and lives now with one relative, now with another. She passes a +great deal of her time abroad, where she has several friends and +connections.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon began to feel rather interested in the young woman. When the +time came for them to be met at the station, he noticed a rather +peculiar thing. Stormont dispensed with the services of the chauffeur +and drove the car to Guildford himself, a most unusual proceeding on +his part. The young man was convinced by this circumstance that his +suspicions were correct. Stormont wanted to be alone to have a quiet +chat with Whitehouse and his niece. +</p> + +<p> +The lovers went for a walk, and on their return a few minutes before +luncheon the visitors had arrived. Lydon shook hands with Whitehouse, +and was introduced to Miss Mayhew, a tall, dark, handsome girl, with +splendid eyes, and the complexion of the brunette. She spoke English +without the faintest trace of accent, but there was a foreign air +about her. +</p> + +<p> +He looked at her very attentively, and his scrutiny revealed two very +strange things. On the back of her neck was a blemish partially +concealed by powder, and she wore as a pendant a magnificent sapphire +carved in the shape of a closed lotus flower. +</p> + +<p> +His memory flew back to that day when he had stood in the drawing-room +of the Villa des Cyclamens, and called the attention of Madame Makris +to a similar jewel which was lying unheeded on the table. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch07"> +CHAPTER SEVEN +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Like</span> a man in a dream, he heard the pleasant, contralto voice of +Miss Mayhew asking him if he did not think Mr. Stormont looked +wonderfully well, and then, without awaiting his answer, go on to +remark that country life evidently agreed with him. +</p> + +<p> +Having broken the ice with Lydon in the easy manner that showed she +was endowed with plenty of self-confidence, she turned to the rubicund +gentleman himself, whom she addressed familiarly as Uncle Howard. “I’m +afraid since you took possession of this lovely place, you don’t work +half as hard as you used to do.” +</p> + +<p> +Whatever her relations with the other two members of the family, she +was apparently on very close terms with the head of it, as was +apparent from the way she addressed him. Gloria had said that they had +seen very little of each other, Stormont then must have had additional +opportunities of intimacy. Unless she knew him very well, she would +not have called him uncle in the presence of his real niece. +</p> + +<p> +He wondered whether Gloria quite relished the familiarity. In spite of +her obvious recognition of Stormont’s failings, and her resentment of +what had just taken place between himself and her fiancé, he was sure +that she had a very soft spot in her heart for her uncle, whom she +always declared to be one of the kindest and most generous of men. +</p> + +<p> +But Gloria did not seem piqued in any way, and she had told him that +Miss Mayhew was not only very bright and vivacious, but especially +charming also. One of his sweetheart’s best traits was that she was +not a jealous or an envious girl. +</p> + +<p> +Whitehouse was always taciturn; he ate heartily and drank a fair +amount, but neither of these processes ever seemed to exhilarate him. +Mrs. Barnard was naturally a quiet woman, of a disposition rather +reserved than otherwise. The conversation at lunch was carried on +mainly between the host and the dark, handsome girl. Miss Mayhew +appeared to have travelled a great deal abroad, for she was constantly +making references to places where apparently she and “Uncle Howard” +had been in each other’s company. It was no doubt owing to these +meetings that they seemed so intimate with each other. +</p> + +<p> +The visitors did not stay very long after lunch, although Stormont, in +his hospitable way, pressed them to reconsider their decision, and +postpone their departure till at least the following day. But +Whitehouse shook his head and replied briefly it was impossible, as he +and his niece had an engagement on Sunday. +</p> + +<p> +Stormont drove them alone from the house, as he had driven them alone +to it. There must be some reason, for Lydon knew he was not fond of +acting as chauffeur. Probably he wanted a few last words with the girl +who was necessary to the prosecution of some business scheme hatched +between the two men. +</p> + +<p> +After they had left, Mrs. Barnard retired to her usual task of writing +letters, and the engaged couple went into the billiard-room. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what do you think of the handsome Zillah?” asked Gloria as they +chose their cues. “Uncle says she breaks hearts wherever she goes. Did +you find her very fascinating?” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon had certainly been greatly fascinated by her, but not for the +reasons Gloria had in her mind when she put the question. What had +fascinated him was that brilliant sapphire pendant and the blemish on +her neck, only partially concealed by the liberal use of powder. +</p> + +<p> +He answered her question lightly: “I expect most men would find her +more than ordinarily attractive. But you know, darling, I have never +had any great admiration for dark women.” +</p> + +<p> +Gloria no doubt was quite satisfied with the answer, for she did not +pursue the subject. She had been rather eclipsed at lunch by the +vivacious and brilliant Miss Mayhew, but now she was alone with her +lover she chatted away merrily enough as they played their game. +</p> + +<p> +And, as she talked, Lydon found himself speculating on the recent +visitor and the strange position of affairs at Effington. There was +plenty of unreality about the whole thing. Was there also perhaps more +than a mere suspicion of mystery? Why did Stormont maintain that +persistent reticence about his business, a man usually of a most +garrulous disposition? Even now Lydon did not know precisely where his +offices were situated. On the bill of exchange it was necessary for +him to put an address, but he had simply described himself as of +Effington Hall, Surrey. +</p> + +<p> +Whitehouse, seemingly his most intimate friend, seemed more than a +little mysterious too. He always gave Leonard the impression of a man +who was constantly keeping close watch upon himself lest he should +drop something that he did not wish known. +</p> + +<p> +And who was this independent, self-assured young woman, Zillah Mayhew, +with the blemish on her neck and that striking pendant, who seemed to +spend her life in rushing hither and thither, and was on such intimate +terms with Uncle Howard? +</p> + +<p> +He led the conversation presently round to the same subject, for all +the time he was making his strokes the dark, handsome Zillah, with her +foreign look, was in his thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +“What a lovely sapphire that is she wears! You noticed it, of course?” +</p> + +<p> +“One could not very well avoid noticing it,” was the reply. “As I have +told you, I haven’t seen her many times, but on every occasion she has +had it on. Uncle says it is her mascot.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did you also notice that peculiar blemish on her neck which, +cleverly as she tries to hide it, peeps through the powder?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I did,” answered Gloria, “for the first time to-day. I am +certain it was not there the last time I saw her.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how long ago might that be?” was her lover’s next question. +</p> + +<p> +The girl considered. “Let me see. I am not very good at remembering +dates. But I do recollect this much. She came over here a few weeks +before we went on that visit to Nice where we met you and your friend, +Mr. Craig.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon was thinking rapidly: “You didn’t happen to meet her at Nice?” +</p> + +<p> +Gloria looked at him in surprise at the question. “No, I am sure I did +not. What makes you suggest it?” +</p> + +<p> +The young man laughed a little awkwardly. It was too early to tell his +sweetheart the strange suspicions which had formed in his mind. “Oh, +no particular reason. But from what she said at luncheon, she seems to +be always on the travel. It just struck me she might have been there +at that particular time.” +</p> + +<p> +He left on the Monday morning this time, having on a great pressure of +work. He would not be able to ask Gloria to lunch in town during the +week, as he was so uncertain of his engagements, but he would be sure +to be down on the following Friday. +</p> + +<p> +He went back to his business, very much obsessed with his thoughts of +the dark, handsome girl known as Zillah Mayhew. Was it only a queer +fancy of his that had led him to connect her with the woman who had +been the cause of his friend’s death? +</p> + +<p> +When he got back to his rooms in Ryder Street, he hunted up the +portrait in the illustrated paper which he had brought with him from +Nice. It was a blurred and wretched thing. One moment he fancied he +could detect a resemblance between Elise Makris and Zillah Mayhew, the +next he was bound to confess he could see not the slightest +resemblance. +</p> + +<p> +It happened that he did see his sweetheart during the week. On the +Wednesday morning he had to carry out some tests of wireless telephony +at one of his Company’s experimental stations at Esher. He was testing +a newly-invented thermionic valve, and during the morning he got into +communication with Aberdeen and Rotterdam and was gratified to learn +they reported his speech and gramophone music as strong and clear. +</p> + +<p> +He lunched at the <i>Bear Hotel</i>, and a happy thought struck him. He +would pay a surprise visit to Effington. So he drove away down the +Portsmouth Road, passing through Guildford and over the Hog’s Back, +and early in the afternoon swung into the big lodge gates of +Effington. +</p> + +<p> +His unexpected visit was a most delightful surprise to Gloria. He +would remain to tea, of course; and Mrs. Barnard, who was as +hospitable as her brother, insisted upon his stopping to dinner. She +regretted that Stormont would be absent, as he had motored to London +to a directors’ meeting, and would not be back till late. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Barnard served them tea from the old silver pot in the great +oak-panelled hall where high stained-glass windows bore the +<i>rose-en-soleil</i> badge of the dead and gone Sedgemeres. +</p> + +<p> +Duncan, the white-haired, grave-faced butler who never permitted +himself the luxury of a smile, except when some guest bestowed upon +him a more than usually generous tip, officiated with his customary +dignity, handing round the cake-basket of pierced Georgian silver. +Duncan had served the greater part of his life in noble families. +Stormont, on the look-out for a dignified major-domo, had tempted him +from his last place by the offer of a salary about double what he was +getting. +</p> + +<p> +Duncan, in a way, had fallen from his high estate in accepting service +under a man about whom nobody seemed to know very much. But, like the +mercenaries of old, he was content to enlist under any banner where +the pay was good. +</p> + +<p> +In the waning light, the big, high-pitched hall looked ghostly and +cavernous, with its floor of polished oak over which high-born dames +of the days of Charles the Second had danced merrily. There was the +great stone fireplace with the wrought-iron fire-back, bearing upon it +the date of 1621. There were the Caroline day-bed with spindle legs +and fragile canework, the high carved arm-chairs upholstered in faded +crimson, and the big oak gate table, loaded with game books, and +visitors’ books mixed with modern novels. +</p> + +<p> +Around, upon the dark panelled walls, hung several portraits of women +and men in wigs, one being a portrait by Kneller of Hugh, sixth Earl +of Sedgemere, and another by Reynolds of Anne, wife of the great Lord +Sedgemere who had fought in the Peninsular War. +</p> + +<p> +While they gossiped and sipped their tea, the sun slanted across the +oak flooring, tinted by the antique escutcheons in the long coloured +glass windows of the lofty hall. +</p> + +<p> +At dinner Lydon casually referred to Miss Mayhew. Had they heard +anything of her since he had met her at luncheon? +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Barnard answered the question: “No, nothing. Isn’t she a splendid +girl? I wish we saw more of her. She is so amusing and vivacious. No +wonder men are always attracted by her!” +</p> + +<p> +“Does she live in London?” Lydon asked. +</p> + +<p> +“When she is in England, she stays with her uncle, Mr. Whitehouse. But +I believe she is a great deal with her brother in Paris.” +</p> + +<p> +So this cosmopolitan young lady had a brother in Paris. Lydon would +very much have liked to ask something about the brother, and also in +what part of London Whitehouse resided, but his delicacy kept him +back. Somehow, personal details never seemed forthcoming in the +Stormont family, with perhaps the exception of Gloria, who was +frankness itself. You always had to dig for them. +</p> + +<p> +After dinner they went as usual into the billiard-room. Mrs. Barnard, +contrary to her usual habit, accompanied them and took upon herself +the office of marker. +</p> + +<p> +After the game was over she very considerately left them to themselves +for a few moments. No doubt, she had a recollection of her own +courting days. A little while before the young man was preparing to +take his leave, she came in with a bundle of letters in her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Leonard, I found these on my brother’s table just now. He had +intended to take them along with him, and forgot them in the hurry of +leaving. Will you please post them at Guildford or somewhere as you +drive along?” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon promised that he would. He said good-bye to the amiable Mrs. +Barnard. Gloria accompanied him to his car, and here the farewell was +a somewhat protracted one, as is usual with newly-engaged couples. +</p> + +<p> +He drove away over the Hog’s Back, and stopped before the Guildford +Post Office. For the first time he looked at the letters as he dropped +them into the box. He came to the last, and read the superscription in +Stormont’s bold handwriting. It was addressed to Miss Mayhew, 18 +Ashstead Mansions, Sloane Square. +</p> + +<p> +A little time ago he had been longing to ask at dinner where Mr. +Whitehouse lived, and had refrained from feelings of delicacy. By the +merest accident, the forgetfulness of Stormont, he had found out what +he wanted. This was a piece of luck. +</p> + +<p> +His first natural impulse was to scribble the address upon his +shirt-cuff and send the letter into the box with the others. He never +quite knew why he changed his mind. Probably his strong conviction +that there was a great element of mystery about Stormont himself, and, +secondly, his equally strong obsession that Elise Makris and Zillah +Mayhew were one and the same person. +</p> + +<p> +Second thoughts gained the day. Instead of posting the letter, as he +knew he ought to have done, he put it back in his wallet, jumped back +into the car, and drove along the London Road through Ripley, Cobham, +Esher and Kingston to the garage close to Ryder Street. +</p> + +<p> +He was determined to pluck at the heart of the mystery. Two hours +after it had been given to him by Mrs. Barnard, he stood in his rooms +in Ryder Street, and the letter from Howard Stormont to Zillah Mayhew +was lying open in his hand. This is what he read: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +“My very clever Zillah.—I have seen Edwards and arranged everything. +You will leave for Paris to-morrow and wait at the <i>Hôtel Terminus</i> +for further instructions. Edwards will bring or write them. Show this +to Whitehouse and then destroy.—<span class="sc">Uncle</span>.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +He read it through a dozen times, and then he carefully resealed the +flap, for the gum was still wet from the steam he had applied. When it +had dried under the weight of some heavy body, he went out and posted +it in the nearest pillar-box. In all probability, Miss Mayhew would +not glance at the postmark. +</p> + +<p> +What did it all mean? Zillah Mayhew was intimately connected with +Stormont’s business, whatever it might be. Of what nature was this +peculiar business that required a female partner? +</p> + +<p> +On the face of it, that brief epistle might refer to a perfectly +legitimate transaction. A woman’s subtle influence might be necessary +to secure some special concession, some particular contract. +</p> + +<p> +But the more he thought it over, the more he rejected this +explanation. The predominant thought in his mind about Howard +Stormont, the country gentleman who played his rôle with such +absolute enjoyment of it, was that he was a very different person from +what he appeared to his neighbours at Effington. +</p> + +<p> +And this suspicion would become a certainty if he could prove that +Elise Makris, the decoy of swindlers and blackmailers, was none other +than Zillah Mayhew, the niece, or pretended niece, of the taciturn +Whitehouse. +</p> + +<p> +But would it become a certainty without further corroborative +evidence? Going into the question a little more deeply, he was bound +to admit it would not. After all, he had nothing but undefined +suspicions with regard to Stormont. He would be bound to give him the +benefit of the doubt. +</p> + +<p> +If the girl were found to be Elise Makris, it did not follow that +Stormont was aware of her criminal activities. It was not an absolute +certainty that even Whitehouse, if he were her uncle, knew of them. +She was obviously a very clever, resourceful young woman; she would +not go about proclaiming her nefarious profession from the housetops. +</p> + +<p> +Stormont might have originally made her acquaintance in a quite simple +and ordinary way, and found her talents useful to him in a peculiar +line of business that entailed the exercise of a considerable amount +of diplomacy. +</p> + +<p> +In fair-mindedness he felt bound to reason on these lines. But, all +the same, his instincts loudly confuted his reasoning. And those +instincts told him that the rubicund financier was very different from +what he appeared to be. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch08"> +CHAPTER EIGHT +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Lydon</span> might not be able to lay claim to any remarkable brilliance of +intellect. At Harrow and Oxford his progress had been steady and +respectable, but he had not distinguished himself like his friend +Craig, for instance, to whom the acquisition of knowledge was an easy +task, whose mental alertness was the delight of his masters and +tutors. +</p> + +<p> +But he was a shrewd young fellow, and endowed with a considerable fund +of common-sense. He also possessed a dogged spirit of determination. +When he once took a thing up he persevered with it, and was not easily +daunted by obstacles. There were, at the present moment, two things he +was resolved to find out by some means or other—the precise nature of +Stormont’s business and the life history of the dark, handsome girl +known as Zillah Mayhew. +</p> + +<p> +He thought the best thing he would do as a start was to go and consult +Shelford, the solicitor in Lincoln’s Inn. As he was pretty well master +of his own time, he paid him an early morning visit before he went to +his business in Victoria Street. That genial gentleman was disengaged +and saw him at once. +</p> + +<p> +To him the young man related his accidental meeting with Miss Mayhew +at the house of a mutual friend, and the two remarkable facts that she +had a blemish on the neck, and was wearing a rather original piece of +jewellery, similar in design to one he had seen in the drawing-room of +the Villa des Cyclamens when he had called there to condole with +Madame Makris on the tragedy. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Shelford was very much impressed, as Lydon was sure he would be: +“One or other of the facts, taken singly, would not lead one very +far,” he observed. “There are no doubt heaps of girls who may have a +mark of this kind, and I suppose there is no piece of jewellery which +is absolutely unique, which has not several replicas. But taken in +conjunction, the evidence is very remarkable. Well, I suppose you want +to go further into it. What you have learned about this young lady in +the ordinary course does not satisfy you?” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon answered that it certainly did not, that he wanted to have his +suspicions disproved or confirmed. What did Shelford advise? +</p> + +<p> +The solicitor was quite ready with an answer. “If you or I were to +undertake the task of tracing the history of Miss Mayhew, I expect we +should find out next to nothing. Such a business is not the least in +our line. But there is, fortunately, a class of men who are experts in +this kind of thing, and perform wonders if you give them something to +go on. You have heard of course of private inquiry agents, perhaps may +have employed one in your time?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have heard of them, naturally. Some of them advertise their skill +in tracking faithless wives and erring husbands. But I have never had +occasion to avail myself of their services.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, if you want to get at the bottom of this, you had better go to +one at once, while the scent is hot,” advised Mr. Shelford, speaking +in a brisk tone. “Like every other profession, there are all sorts in +it, some very smart, some the reverse. I can recommend you to a +particularly good man, as keen as mustard. Whenever we have any of +this sort of work, we give it to him, and he has always served us +well. His name is Grewgus, and his office is in Craven Street, Strand. +I will give you a note of introduction to him, and as he is a busy +man, you had better ring him up for an appointment. Stay, as it is +pretty early, he’ll be at his office. I’ll ring him up now and make an +appointment for you.” +</p> + +<p> +In a few minutes the affair was settled. Mr. Grewgus would be engaged +practically the whole of the day, but he could see Mr. Lydon at six +o’clock that evening, if convenient. If not, at ten o’clock the +following morning. As the young man was anxious to get on with the +matter as quickly as possible, he chose the evening. +</p> + +<p> +“By the way, I have a little bit of news for you,” said Shelford as +they shook hands at parting. “Poor Hugh Craig’s private fortune is +sadly depleted. As far as we are able to make out, he has either +parted voluntarily or been forced to part with something like twelve +thousand pounds in the last eighteen months. You remember, of course, +there were some vague allusions to blackmail in that letter he sent to +you from Nice, under cover to us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, there was certainly reference to blackmail. But how could he +have laid himself open to it? I knew Hugh the best part of my life—he +was the soul of honour and probity. He could never have done anything +that he would have been ashamed to come to light.” +</p> + +<p> +The experienced man of the world shook his head. “The lives of a great +many of us are a sealed book, Mr. Lydon. The poor fellow was no doubt +distraught when he wrote that letter, and may have used the word +without strict regard to its meaning. This harpy may have inveigled it +out of him on some plausible pretext or another. All the cheques were +drawn to himself, and paid in cash, so we have no means of knowing to +whom the money actually went. But, as you can see, he was bled to a +pretty good amount.” +</p> + +<p> +Later on, about twelve o’clock, Lydon was rung up in his business room +where he was hard at work. Stormont’s well-known voice came through +the instrument. He was speaking from the <i>Cecil</i>, he said. Would +Leonard lunch with him at one? +</p> + +<p> +He wanted to settle up that little matter with him. +</p> + +<p> +But for the concluding words, the young man might have declined the +invitation, making some polite excuse. At the present moment he was +too much disturbed in his mind about Mr. Stormont to hold any +unnecessary intercourse with him. Repayment of the thousand pounds +loan was evidently meant. The expected remittance was not a myth, as +he had fancied more than once, but had actually arrived. +</p> + +<p> +He, therefore, accepted. He did not consider Stormont was a safe +enough man to have money left in his possession for too long. If he +waited, he might only get a part of the debt, some more pressing +creditor might be beforehand with him. +</p> + +<p> +Besides, after all, he need not be so squeamish about meeting him. He +had no intention of breaking with Gloria just because he had some +strong suspicions of her uncle. He would be going to Effington on +Friday for his usual weekly visit, and must perforce be the rubicund +financier’s guest as before. +</p> + +<p> +Stormont seemed more hearty and genial than ever when they met in the +entrance hall. As on the previous occasion, he ordered a most lavish +lunch and the most expensive wine. Before going into the restaurant, +he slipped into his guest’s hand a rather bulky envelope. “I have +brought it in cash,” he whispered, “ten one hundred notes. I should +have liked to add something substantial for the accommodation, but you +were so emphatic on that point that I didn’t dare.” +</p> + +<p> +Well, Stormont, so far, had kept faith with him; that should certainly +be accounted to him for righteousness. But Lydon could not help +thinking how strangely the financier managed his affairs for a man of +business. Why did he not give him a cheque instead of these bulky +notes which he might not have time to pay in to-day? He hated carrying +big money about with him. +</p> + +<p> +Then his suspicions, which had become chronic since he had read that +letter, leading him to put an unfavourable construction upon every +action, recurred to him. Perhaps he owed his bank, not a trifling sum +as he had pretended, but a very considerable amount, and had only +partially settled with them. Hence his reason for not drawing a +cheque. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon was not in a very talkative mood; he was thinking of his +forthcoming interview with the private inquiry agent. The host, +however, was in the best possible spirits and conversed enough for the +pair. +</p> + +<p> +Towards the close of the meal, the young man roused himself from his +reveries, and inquired casually whether he was likely to meet Miss +Mayhew on his next visit to Effington. +</p> + +<p> +Stormont answered in the negative, adding: “I understood she was going +away almost directly on a visit to her brother in Paris.” +</p> + +<p> +After a pause he added: “Splendid girl that, so clever, so +accomplished. She’s a first-class linguist too. Gloria often says she +wishes she could speak foreign languages like her. A capital woman of +business too. She has been of some use to me and her uncle in that way +on more than one occasion.” +</p> + +<p> +“She has helped you in your business,” cried Lydon, rather surprised +at such a frank admission from a man so reserved on the subject. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Stormont winked knowingly. In addition to the greater portion of +the champagne, he had imbibed two glasses of very fine liqueur brandy. +They had perhaps made him unusually communicative. +</p> + +<p> +“In my line of business we often have to deal with persons in high +places, some of whom are very susceptible, not to say inflammable. +When you come across a person of this description—and there are +plenty of them abroad—it is astonishing what influence a pretty and +clever woman can wield. And her worst enemy must admit that Zillah is +both.” +</p> + +<p> +It seemed quite a straightforward sort of statement. Lydon, in spite +of his suspicions, was bound to admit as much. He tried to lead the +financier to talk further on the topic, but obviously he did not wish +to pursue it. Perhaps he felt he had said enough. +</p> + +<p> +At half-past two they separated. There was just time enough to walk +briskly to Coutts, and pay in the thousand pounds. Leonard was busy at +the office till it was time for him to keep his appointment in Craven +Street with Mr. Grewgus. +</p> + +<p> +He reached the offices of the private inquiry agent a few minutes past +the hour. Mr. Grewgus himself was standing in the outer room +apparently used by his staff. But there was nobody there except +himself, a fact which he explained to his new client. +</p> + +<p> +“I am alone, Mr. Lydon; I never keep my staff after the stroke of six. +Of course I don’t restrict myself to the time-table. I am at the +disposal of a client at almost any hour.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon rather liked the look of him. He was a tall, thin-faced man with +rather hatchet features, clean-shaven. His manners were suave and +courteous, his eyes keen, his expression was indicative of alert +mentality. +</p> + +<p> +He led the way into his own apartment, and, after placing a chair for +the young man, invited him to state his business. Leonard told him the +story as the reader already knows it. Grewgus listened without making +any comment or interruption, but it was easy to see his trained +intelligence grasped every detail. When Lydon was finished, he spoke: +</p> + +<p> +“I understand that you wish me to find out all I can about this man, +Howard Stormont, the nature of his business, etcetera, etcetera. +Secondly, you want me to do the same thing with regard to the young +woman, Zillah Mayhew, and this will necessarily involve her uncle, +John Whitehouse, whom you say lives at 18 Ashstead Mansions, Sloane +Square.” +</p> + +<p> +Leonard intimated that the detective had accurately comprehended his +requirements. +</p> + +<p> +“You do not know the address of Stormont’s offices, only that they are +somewhere in London. You have looked him up in the directory, as a +matter of course? You have, and can’t locate him. Trading no doubt +under another name. Nothing actually suspicious in that by itself, of +course, but it is a little peculiar he should be so exceedingly +reticent on the subject.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused a minute or two to digest things before resuming: “Well, Mr. +Lydon, I can leave Stormont to one of my lieutenants; I have no doubt +he can soon be run to earth. The young lady will, I am sure, prove the +more difficult job of the two. You say she is starting or has started +for Paris?” +</p> + +<p> +“The letter was written yesterday; I posted it last night. Therefore, +if she obeys the instructions, she will leave to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so,” assented Mr. Grewgus. “I will, as I said, leave Stormont +and the man Whitehouse to a deputy; we shall learn something about +them in a very short time. I shall take Miss Mayhew in hand myself, +and I ought to follow her to-morrow at the latest. But there is a +little difficulty. I don’t know her by sight, although I dare say you +can give me a pretty accurate description of her. Still, if she +registers at the <i>Hôtel Terminus</i> under another name, which is quite +likely, time may be lost. Would it be possible for you to accompany +me?” +</p> + +<p> +“But wouldn’t our objects be defeated if I did? Remember, we have met +at Effington Hall, and if she is the woman I believe her to be, she +would be naturally interested in me as the friend of Hugh Craig. She +would recognize me the moment she saw me.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Grewgus smiled genially. “Quite right, Mr. Lydon, but I shouldn’t +manage things as clumsily as that. If you will come round to the +office an hour before we start, I will disguise you so effectually +that your nearest and dearest will never suspect your real identity. +You will enter it Leonard Lydon, you will leave it anything you decide +upon. We are used to make-up here, I can assure you.” +</p> + +<p> +There was something that appealed to him in the suggestion; it would +be a decidedly novel experience to spy upon Miss Mayhew under an +impenetrable disguise. He could easily spare a few days; there was +some business in Paris he could attend to at the same time. +</p> + +<p> +The weekly visit to Gloria was the only drawback. But for the moment +the prospect of tracking Miss Mayhew outweighed the disappointment of +not seeing his sweetheart. He would write her to-night, explaining +that he had suddenly been summoned to Glasgow on important business +which could not be delayed. +</p> + +<p> +It was arranged, therefore, that Lydon should be round at the office +early the next morning, and after he had assumed his disguise, the two +men should proceed at once to Paris. +</p> + +<p> +But Mr. Grewgus, who certainly did not spare himself in the interests +of his clients, had something more to propose. A bright idea had +suddenly occurred to him. He asked his client if he had any important +engagements for that evening, and on receiving an answer in the +negative, unfolded his plan. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, as you can spare the time, I suggest that we take a peep at +Ashstead Mansions and see if we can get anything useful out of the +porter at the flats. Most of these fellows will talk if they can see +money is about.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, the same objection,” began the young man, and Mr. Grewgus +interrupted him with uplifted hand and a quizzical smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, I foresee that. You might meet the Mayhew girl or +Whitehouse, or both coming down the staircase, and they would at once +smell a rat. What about having a rehearsal of that excellent disguise +which you are going to assume to-morrow? I can rig you out comfortably +in a quarter of an hour.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon agreed. There was an element of sport in the whole thing which +the hatchet-faced detective seemed to enjoy as much as his client. +Disguised in a heavy beard and moustache, the young man walked out of +the detective’s office. They took a taxi and dismounted within a few +yards of Ashstead Mansions. +</p> + +<p> +The porter, a young military-looking man, was standing outside the +particular block they entered. Grewgus whispered in his companion’s +ear. “I’ve reckoned him up in a single glance. I know the type. He +will talk till doomsday after the first ten-shilling note is slipped +in his hand. Of course, you won’t mind a bit of expense over the job?” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon whispered back that, under the circumstances, expense was no +object. He was prepared to spend a considerable amount of money to +confirm or disprove his suspicions of Zillah Mayhew. +</p> + +<p> +They went into the hall, and scrutinized the board containing the +names of the particular block in which Number 18 was situated. The +name of Whitehouse did not figure on it. +</p> + +<p> +The detective rubbed his thin face. “This is 18 Ashstead Mansions, +right enough, but nobody of the name of Whitehouse resides here. You +are quite sure of the number?” +</p> + +<p> +The young man smiled. Detectives perhaps resembled solicitors; they +did not credit the average person with ordinary intelligence. +</p> + +<p> +“Impossible for me to make a mistake,” he answered. “I was far too +interested not to make sure. I only learned it last night.” +</p> + +<p> +Seeing they were obviously perplexed, the porter strolled up to them. +“Are you looking for somebody, sir?” he asked, addressing Grewgus, +whom he evidently regarded as the more dominant personality of the +two. “Perhaps I can assist you.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus spoke in his rather precise, formal way. “Am I correct in +saying that a Mr. Whitehouse occupies one of these flats?” +</p> + +<p> +The military-looking man shook his head. “Nobody of that name in this +block, sir, or any of the others.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus turned to his companion with a finely simulated air of +surprise. “Either we have been misinformed as to the precise locality +or the name itself,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon, not used to the subtle processes of the detective mind, thought +it best to say as little as possible. He just muttered the safe words, +“It certainly looks like it, doesn’t it?” playing up to the lead given +him by the astute Grewgus. +</p> + +<p> +That gentleman extracted with a great air of deliberation a +ten-shilling note from his waistcoat pocket and pressed it into the +receptive hand of the porter. +</p> + +<p> +“I may as well tell you we are here to make a few inquiries about a +certain party,” he said. “You say there is no Mr. Whitehouse here. +Does a young lady named Mayhew reside in this or any of the other +blocks?” +</p> + +<p> +The porter, stimulated by the <i>douceur</i> so promptly and adroitly +administered, became voluble at once, thus justifying the detective’s +hasty diagnosis of his temperament. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Mayhew, sir, lives with her uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. +Glenthorne, in this block, Number 18. I believe she is their niece; I +have heard her call him uncle.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus turned to the disguised young man and addressed him with the +utmost coolness and suavity. “Of course, we were given the wrong name. +I suspected it after I searched that board.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned to the porter, who, by the knowing smile that showed itself +upon his good-looking face, appeared to be awaiting developments of an +interesting character. +</p> + +<p> +“Now can you tell us something about this Mr. Glenthorne? Do you know +his profession, his business, his occupation?” +</p> + +<p> +The smile on the porter’s face deepened, as he saw Grewgus’ hand steal +ostentatiously to his pocket, and withdraw another note. It had +evidently dawned on his mind by now that they were detectives, and +were prepared to pay liberally for information. +</p> + +<p> +“I could tell you about almost anybody in this block, sir, but not Mr. +Glenthorne. When he is in London, he seems to go out every day, and +returns at all sorts of hours, sometimes to lunch, sometimes to +dinner, sometimes not till close upon midnight.” +</p> + +<p> +“A gentleman apparently of quite irregular habits?” interjected the +detective. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so, sir. Whatever his business is, it takes him away a good +deal. He spends more than half the year abroad.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what about Miss Mayhew? Is she as erratic?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never stays here very long, sir. She was off to-day. From something I +heard, I think she was bound for Paris.” +</p> + +<p> +A second note found its way into the porter’s ready palm, and Grewgus +was prepared to admit that he had earned it. +</p> + +<p> +The two men were turning away, when the porter said in a low voice: +“Here is Mr. Glenthorne, sir. Do you know him?” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus motioned him to silence. A well-remembered figure entered the +hall and ascended the staircase. He cast a sharp glance at the two +men, but it was evident he did not penetrate Lydon’s disguise. +</p> + +<p> +When he was safely out of earshot, Leonard whispered to his companion: +“It is the man whom I know as John Whitehouse.” +</p> + +<p> +They went out into the street, and then the detective spoke. +“Glenthorne in Ashstead Mansions, and Whitehouse when he visits his +friends at Effington. The beginning of a very pretty mystery, Mr. +Lydon. Perhaps our trip to Paris will help us to solve it.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch09"> +CHAPTER NINE +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">When</span> they had left Ashstead Mansions safely behind, the detective +turned down a side street, and, leading the young man under a +convenient archway, dexterously whipped off the disguising beard and +moustache and put them in a small bag he had brought with him. +</p> + +<p> +“Now Richard is himself again, and can face the world in his own +proper person,” he observed in a jocular tone. “I suppose we will +separate here. I am going on to Hammersmith to see one of my smartest +men and put him at once on the job of finding out what he can about +Stormont and the man whom you originally knew as Whitehouse. Better be +at my office about eight o’clock to-morrow. As soon as I have made you +up, we will start.” +</p> + +<p> +As they parted, Grewgus observed that he had better pay out all the +outgoings, and Lydon could give him a cheque from time to time. “I +expect it will run you into a pretty penny,” he said, “but from what +you have said, I gather you don’t mind that. The thing certainly seems +worth investigating. The fact of this fellow having two names is very +suspicious. And whatever is going on, I have little doubt we shall be +able to connect Stormont with it. It is impossible he can be ignorant +of the fact that Whitehouse calls himself Glenthorne when he is away +from Effington.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon went back to his rooms, and in the evening dined at the +<i>Berkeley</i> with a friend. The more he thought over the matter the more +he congratulated himself on having gone to the solicitor, and through +him to Grewgus, who impressed him as a man of remarkable capacity. +What they had learned at Ashstead Mansions was enough to prove that +there was some deep mystery about the occupants of Number 18, a +mystery in which the owner of Effington Hall was obviously involved. +</p> + +<p> +Whatever that mystery was, did Gloria and Mrs. Barnard know anything +about it, or were they as ignorant as he was when he had first set +foot in the fine old Tudor mansion where the rubicund profiteer posed +as a man of business who had lately taken up the rôle of country +gentleman? +</p> + +<p> +Of Mrs. Barnard, he could not, of course, be sure. She was a +singularly quiet, self-contained woman, not much given to general +conversation. Considering the hours he had spent down at Effington, he +had really seen very little of her. She seemed to play a very +subordinate part in the life led there, her brother taking the lead in +everything, impressing himself upon his guests, in his bluff, genial +way, while she remained in the background. +</p> + +<p> +She seemed, so far as he could judge, to be interested in two +things—clothes and the local charities. And no doubt Stormont had put +her on to the latter, in order to make a good impression in the +neighbourhood, and disarm the critical attitude which is so often +assumed against a new-comer. +</p> + +<p> +Gloria he was convinced knew nothing and suspected nothing. He loved +the girl with his whole heart and soul, with every pulse of his being, +but even his great love would not have blinded him if he had observed +anything suspicious or evasive about her. In all their intercourse +together, she had been so perfectly frank, even with regard to the +uncle whose kindness she so greatly appreciated. When she told him +that Stormont was a financier, it was evident she was telling what she +believed to be the truth. And about her early life with her parents in +China she had been as open as a book. Whatever mystery there might be +about Stormont himself, there was none about the brother who held a +high position in one of the biggest banks in that far-off country. +</p> + +<p> +She had shown him more than one letter from her parents, who kept up a +constant correspondence with her, and he could see from what he read +there was nothing suspicious about them. In the last one he read, +there was an intimation that at any moment they might make up their +minds to come to England for a brief holiday. Yes, there was no doubt +everything was open and above-board with Jasper Stormont, her father. +</p> + +<p> +The young man found himself wishing that visit would be paid soon. He +could question a man more closely than he could a woman. +</p> + +<p> +He was at Grewgus’ office at the appointed hour next morning. As +before, there was nobody there but the detective himself. The staff +did not put in an appearance till nine. In a very few minutes the +disguise was effected, with a few additional touches which made it +more complete. +</p> + +<p> +When he had finished, Grewgus drew back and surveyed his handiwork +with an air of pardonable pride. “If Miss Mayhew meets you face to +face, she will never suspect you are the young man she met at +Effington Hall. There was no recognition in Whitehouse’s glance last +night, although I have no doubt he was suspicious of what we were +doing there. I bet you he will have asked the porter a question or two +by now. But that chap is no fool; he will know how to put him off.” +</p> + +<p> +When Leonard looked in the glass which Grewgus handed him, he was +bound to confess that a complete metamorphosis had been effected. +There was no resemblance between this heavy-bearded creature and the +good-looking lover of Gloria Stormont. +</p> + +<p> +“Now I think we will be off,” observed Grewgus. “I have written a +letter to my head clerk telling him I’m off to Paris, and giving him +the address of the hotel we shall stay at. Of course it will not be +the <i>Terminus</i>, that would hamper us too much. I shall only take you +there for the purpose of identifying her; I shall watch her from +elsewhere. To stay there would be fatal to our plans. If she is the +person you believe her to be, she is naturally as sharp as a needle, +and she would soon tumble to the fact that we were taking a suspicious +interest in her.” +</p> + +<p> +A short time later they had left London behind them and were on their +way to Paris and Zillah Mayhew. It was a fairly empty train and they +had a first-class compartment to themselves. +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus proved himself a most entertaining companion, and told Lydon +many interesting things in connection with himself and his profession, +in the pursuit of which he took the keenest delight. +</p> + +<p> +He was about fifty-five, he told the young man, who was surprised at +the statement, for, with his clean-shaven face and keen, alert +expression, he looked a good ten years younger. He had been fifteen +years at Scotland Yard, and ten years on his own. +</p> + +<p> +While at the Yard he had acquired a considerable experience of the +underworld. He told him some wonderful stories of the wide +ramifications of crookdom of all classes from the lowest to the most +aristocratic, of high-class gangs directed by men who presented a most +respectable appearance to the outside world, mixing in decent society, +and adopting some well-known business or profession as a blind. He +regaled him with some thrilling tales of how diamond had cut diamond, +of the marvellous ingenuity with which certain professional detectives +had got the better of their natural enemies, the criminals. +</p> + +<p> +Since he had been in private practice, his experiences had been less +thrilling. He did a good deal in divorce business, and he was applied +to in many cases of blackmail. +</p> + +<p> +“If this young woman turns out to be Elise Makris, as you suspect, we +are likely to be up against a blackmailing gang here,” he observed. +“And I should gather they pursue their activities chiefly abroad. You +will remember the porter dropped the fact that Glenthorne was +frequently out of England.” +</p> + +<p> +They snatched a light meal at Boulogne and they got out at Amiens for +a very welcome whisky and soda. The Paris train was pretty full, and +there was no opportunity for further disclosures of a confidential +nature. Just before they rolled into the station, Grewgus whispered in +his companion’s ear: +</p> + +<p> +“As you said I was to spare no expense, I sent a wire to an old ally +of mine to meet the train. We have worked together very often, and he +is a most useful fellow, being a splendid linguist. He can speak +French like a native, even to its slang. It may be I shall have to +watch more than one person, and he will come in handy for the other.” +</p> + +<p> +Evidently Mr. Grewgus was going to do the thing thoroughly, and the +young man was pleased that he had got hold of such a painstaking +fellow. The man with whom he had made the appointment was waiting on +the platform, a clean-shaven, smart-looking individual rather like +Grewgus himself. He was introduced to Lydon by the name of Simmons. +</p> + +<p> +“I think you and I, Mr. Lydon, will stay at the <i>Palace Hotel</i>; it is +pretty handy to the other one. We will go there first and book our +rooms, and then proceed to the <i>Terminus</i>. If we wait a bit in the +great hall there, we shall be pretty certain to spot our quarry. We’ll +take Simmons with us, as he will want to know her as well, in case he +has to be put on the job later.” +</p> + +<p> +They secured their rooms and then went on to the <i>Terminus</i>. The hall +was very full, but they found room in a corner, an admirable situation +where they could survey everybody at their leisure without attracting +too much attention themselves. +</p> + +<p> +They sat there a long time, and Lydon was beginning to fear that Miss +Mayhew had changed her plans, gone to some other hotel than the one +given in Stormont’s letter of instructions. But presently a familiar +figure, dressed in the height of fashion, passed through the hall, and +when near the exit, lingered as if she was waiting for some one. Lydon +spoke to the detective in a low voice: “That is she, waiting at the +end.” +</p> + +<p> +The two men took stock of her. “Singularly handsome young woman,” +commented Grewgus in the same cautious tones. “I suppose she is +waiting for the man Edwards.” +</p> + +<p> +But she was not. To Lydon’s surprise and relief, another familiar +figure crossed the hall, joined her, and the two went out together. It +was that of the woman he had known as Madame Makris, the tenant of the +Villa des Cyclamens. +</p> + +<p> +There was no mistaking her. He remembered too well that stout form, +the still handsome face with its traces of youthful good looks, the +Jewish cast of countenance. He imparted the information to Grewgus. +</p> + +<p> +A satisfied smile stole over the detective’s countenance. “Well, this +is a bit of the most splendid luck at the very start,” he said. “The +mother, the blemish which I could not see from here, the pendant which +I could see, I think we have found one of the most important things we +wanted, at once. There can be no doubt, in face of those three things, +that she is Elise Makris, or at any rate that that is one of possibly +numerous aliases. Anyway, she is the woman who drove your friend to +frenzy. I expect mother and daughter are devoted to each other, and +hunt in couples wherever they can. The next thing is to find out what +game they are after here.” +</p> + +<p> +He whispered a few words to his colleague, Simmons, who rose and left +the hall. “I have sent him to make an inquiry,” Grewgus explained. “He +knows a few of the servants here, and, as I told you, he speaks French +like a Frenchman.” +</p> + +<p> +Simmons returned presently and related the result of his visit. “They +give out they are Englishwomen, and are known as Mrs. and Miss +Glenthorne. No man of the name of Edwards is staying here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, I thought she wouldn’t register as Miss Mayhew,” was the +detective’s comment. “I suppose a different name for each job. Well, +gentlemen, we’ve got as much here as we can for the present. I don’t +think we’ll stay any longer. I propose we adjourn to a café, have a +drink and discuss our future plan of action.” +</p> + +<p> +They agreed with his suggestion. In their walk to a café close at +hand, Grewgus did not speak much. His mind was no doubt busily working +on the situation, and the best way of tackling it. +</p> + +<p> +When they were half-way through their drinks, he spoke. “We can’t hope +to do very much this evening. Now what I propose is this, Mr. Lydon. +I know Paris rather thoroughly, although I daresay my friend Simmons +knows it better. This isn’t exactly a pleasure trip you’ve come on, +and you won’t want to spend more money than is absolutely necessary. +We must have something to eat, for that light meal at Boulogne wasn’t +very satisfactory.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon laughed. “I am in hearty agreement with you. The long journey +has made me feel frightfully hungry.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if we go to one of the swagger places, you’ll be charged +through the nose. This is the city <i>par excellence</i> of good cooking, +and I can take you to a capital little restaurant close by where +everything is excellent, and you’ll pay about a third of the price. +Their wines are good and reasonable too.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m in your hands,” said the young man. “I should like you to take me +along as soon as possible.” He noticed that Simmons did not appear to +be included in the suggestion. The reason was explained when Grewgus +turned to his colleague. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s not likely we shall be fortunate enough to do much to-night, as +I said just now. We have had one big bit of luck to start with which +has saved us a lot of time and trouble. All the same we won’t let our +vigilance sleep. I want you to start on the watch at once, Simmons, if +this woman and her mother come back. We shall be at the <i>Restaurant +Grice</i> for at least a couple of hours. If in the meantime there is +anything to report, come to us there. If we have gone, come to the +hotel.” +</p> + +<p> +The obedient Simmons finished his drink, rose up and went forth at +once to obey his leader’s commands. After a final <i>apéritif</i>, Grewgus +led his companion to the <i>Restaurant Grice</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Here they had a most excellent meal, consisting of a good soup, a sole +worthy of the <i>Café Royal</i>, followed by some tender veal. They drank +with it a white wine recommended by Grewgus. +</p> + +<p> +While they were eating, the detective dwelt regretfully on the vast +difference between now and before the war. “If you knew the ropes, it +was one of the cheapest places in the world to live in, and whatever +you paid, you got splendid value for your money. Of course, very few +of the English who came here <i>did</i> know the ropes. I shouldn’t have +known them but for a young fellow I met, a student in the Latin +Quarter. Gad! What he didn’t know about Paris wasn’t worth knowing.” +</p> + +<p> +After their dinner was over, they sat and smoked to the accompaniment +of another bottle of white wine. Grewgus was not keen on spirits. They +had promised to wait a couple of hours there in case Simmons had +anything to report, and they were as comfortable here as they would +have been in their hotel, more so perhaps. +</p> + +<p> +During this period of waiting, Grewgus entertained his host with some +more thrilling stories of crooks and crookdom. Lydon found himself +much interested. Before he met this reminiscent person he had no idea +that there was so much rascality in the world. According to Grewgus, +every big city was teeming with it. On the whole, for what he called +aristocratic crookdom he was inclined to give the palm to Nice, “where +our friend Miss Mayhew appears to hail from,” he observed with a +sardonic chuckle. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s a member of some foreign gang, I suppose?” suggested Lydon. +“She has a foreign look about her, although I heard her mother was an +Englishwoman, apparently an English Jewess.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus shook his head. “I should rather fancy an international one. +Whitehouse is mixed up with her; we can’t assume him to be ignorant of +his niece’s activities, if she is really his niece. Then there is the +man Edwards, and of course Stormont, upon whose business she is here, +according to that letter. Three Englishmen, you see. Decidedly an +international gang by that.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is your reading of it so far, Mr. Grewgus?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, we can’t say positively till I’ve found out what her game is +here. But I should say she is one of the working members of the gang, +and Edwards is another. Whitehouse and his friend are probably the +controlling spirits who plan and engineer but never come into the +open, never execute the dirty work.” +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes before the two hours had expired, Simmons bustled in +with an air of importance that told he had something of interest to +communicate. +</p> + +<p> +It was briefly this. Mother and daughter had returned to the hotel +alone, an hour after they left it. The mother had gone upstairs; Miss +Glenthorne had sat in the hall, evidently waiting for somebody. That +somebody presently turned up in the shape of an opulent-looking +Frenchman, thickly bearded and of middle age. The couple left together +and drove to one of the most expensive restaurants in Paris. +</p> + +<p> +Simmons followed them into the expensive restaurant, and had his +dinner there, conceiving it to be his duty to spend money in order to +watch them. From the waiter who attended on him, he learned that the +Frenchman was an old customer, and a wealthy man. He was a partner in +the big firm of jewellers, Dubost Frères, located in Marseilles. +Every three months he made a trip to Paris to have dealings with firms +in the same line of business. On these occasions, the waiter had been +told, he brought with him several samples worth thousands of pounds. +His name was Monsieur Léon Calliard. +</p> + +<p> +With regard to the young woman, the waiter knew nothing about her. He +fancied he recognized her as having been in the restaurant before +during his period of service, but he could not say with whom. This was +certainly the first time he had seen Monsieur Calliard in her company. +</p> + +<p> +From the restaurant, where they quickly got through their dinner, +Simmons followed them to a music-hall, where he had left them when he +came to make his report. +</p> + +<p> +“Nobody joined them in the music-hall, no Englishman who might be the +man Edwards?” queried Grewgus when his colleague had finished his +recital. +</p> + +<p> +“No, so far, Edwards has not appeared upon the scene,” was the answer. +</p> + +<p> +The detective looked at his client. “Looks like a case of blackmail, +or perhaps robbery and blackmail,” was his comment. “Anyway the old +game.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t know whether you would like to go and have a look at them +yourself?” hazarded Simmons. +</p> + +<p> +But Grewgus thought not. He would wait till to-morrow to get on the +track of the man Edwards, that is, if he were taking an active part in +the affair and still in Paris. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch10"> +CHAPTER TEN +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">After</span> breakfast the next morning, Grewgus inquired if Lydon had any +intention of making a long stay in Paris. +</p> + +<p> +The young man replied in the negative. His business claimed him, his +sweetheart claimed him, although he did not communicate the latter +item to the detective. He had, up to the present, said nothing about +her, or her relationship to Stormont. Naturally, he shrank from doing +so. +</p> + +<p> +“I take it, if I stayed, I could be of little use to you in your +proceedings, Mr. Grewgus?” he queried. +</p> + +<p> +The reply was polite, but quite emphatic. “Well, Mr. Lydon, I think +not. If I detailed you off on the watching business, you might find it +a very difficult job. Shadowing people is an art—of course Simmons +and I are quite used to it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sure I understand. If I attempted to follow Miss Mayhew about, +she would soon spot it. You do it in some mysterious way, so that +while observing, you contrive to escape observation.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus was pleased to find his client took such a sensible view of +the situation. He bestowed on him a cordial smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Everybody to his job, Mr. Lydon. I may say to you that, speaking from +a professional point of view, this promises to be an exceedingly +interesting case, more especially when we succeed in getting on to the +track of the man Edwards who is no doubt about. I don’t fancy the +young woman is doing it all off her own bat.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a certain air of satisfaction about Grewgus as he spoke +which convinced his client he was engaged in a business after his own +heart. There had been aroused in him those sleuth-like instincts, +lacking which no man makes a good hunter of criminals. +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus was away all the morning, and Lydon took advantage of his +absence to stroll about and renew his rather slight acquaintance with +the beautiful city. They met for <i>déjeuner</i> at the same place where +they had dined the previous evening. +</p> + +<p> +There was news of some importance to communicate. Simmons had seen +Miss Mayhew with a tall, elegant-looking young man in the Bois de +Boulogne. They had separated very soon, and, surmising the man to be +Edwards, he had followed him to his quarters in an hotel in a +different part of the city, close to the Gare du Nord. Discreet +inquiries elicited that the young man was registered under his proper +name; he had not thought it necessary to change it like Miss Mayhew. +</p> + +<p> +“It looks as he if were in charge of the job, and that the girl is +playing her usual rôle of decoy,” remarked Grewgus, when he had +imparted this information. “The two meet while this silly old Calliard +is doing his business in Paris. No doubt Miss Mayhew and her elderly +admirer will spend this evening and other evenings together till it is +time to pluck him. The waiter told Simmons he is a married man. If he +were not, we might give the young woman the benefit of the doubt, and +credit her with the intention of pulling off an advantageous +marriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“In that case, the man Edwards wouldn’t be wanted,” observed Lydon, +who was quite shrewd in his way. “He will probably appear upon the +scene presently as the injured husband, or outraged brother, or +something equally terrifying to this poor enamoured old man.” +</p> + +<p> +Later on, Grewgus saw his client off at the station and wished him +<i>bon voyage</i>. “I instructed my man in London to send a report of his +discoveries with regard to Stormont and Whitehouse, not only to me +here, but to you at your private address, as it will save time. I +shall keep you posted at this end. Of course, for a day or two I may +have nothing to communicate, as so far we have found out a good bit in +the short time. We have located Edwards, we have proved beyond the +smallest possibility of doubt that Zillah Mayhew and Elise Makris are +one, by the presence of the mother. And, of course, our friend at +Effington Hall stands revealed by his letter as the prime mover in the +affair.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon arrived in London the same night, and early on the following +morning sent a wire to Gloria asking her to meet him at the <i>Savoy</i> +for luncheon. On his breakfast table had lain an envelope addressed in +an unfamiliar handwriting. It contained a long memorandum +headed—“Copy of a report forwarded to Mr. Grewgus in Paris.” +Obviously the detective’s agent had lost no time, he must have worked +at top speed, as he could only have devoted two days to the inquiries. +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +The report read as follows: “I could not start as soon as I should +have liked, as I had no personal knowledge of Stormont and had to +travel down to Effington and hang about there till I had spotted the +man, and learned something of his habits. On the next morning I +shadowed him at Waterloo, and followed him to Hornby Square in the +City. He went into a small suite of offices, on the entrance door of +which were marked the names of Robinson & Company, financiers. Further +inquiries elicited that his firm kept no staff, that only two men were +there, sometimes together, sometimes alone, Stormont and a taciturn, +rather unpleasant-looking man whom the porter knew by the name of +Whitehouse. +</p> + +<p> +“I shadowed Whitehouse when he left in the afternoon about four +o’clock and found he occupies a flat Number 18 in Ashstead Mansions, +off Sloane Square. The family consists of himself, his wife and a +niece, Miss Mayhew. Both uncle and niece frequently take journeys +abroad. He is known there as Glenthorne.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +Leonard smiled as he read this part. It was evident that the +hall-porter at Ashstead Mansions had again been a source of +information. +</p> + +<p> +“There seems little or no business doing at Hornby Square, so far as I +could gather. There are a very few occasional callers, and a fair +amount of correspondence. Taking the aspect of things in a general +conjunction, and remembering the suspicious circumstance that the man +Whitehouse calls himself Glenthorne in private life, I should say the +office in Hornby Square is used as a blind, and that no legitimate +business is carried on there.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a letter to Lydon accompanying the report signed John Ross, +in which the writer stated that he was forwarding it in compliance +with the instructions of his principal, Mr. Grewgus. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon laid the report down, thinking that it fully confirmed his +suspicions, and marvelling what an immense amount had come to light in +consequence of his sudden determination to open the letter to Zillah +Mayhew. If Stormont only knew, how he would curse his sister’s +officiousness in getting those letters posted. +</p> + +<p> +As he expected might be the case, he found Gloria very hurt that her +sweetheart had not written to her during his brief absence. It was +very unkind, she told him: if the positions had been reversed, she +would have sent him a long letter every day. +</p> + +<p> +He hated lying to the charming girl, she was always so frank and open +herself. But what was he to do under the circumstances? He could not +admit that the journey to Glasgow was a myth, that he had really gone +to Paris to get evidence against her uncle. +</p> + +<p> +The day might come when he would have to open her eyes as to +Stormont’s real character, but it had not arrived yet. He must have +stronger evidence than he possessed at the moment. +</p> + +<p> +“My darling, you can’t imagine how busy I was,” he pleaded in excuse +of his neglect. “I was rushing about from place to place; when I had a +spare second I was ’phoning somebody or writing telegrams.” +</p> + +<p> +Being a very sweet-tempered girl, she was soon placated, and made no +further allusion to the distasteful subject. Nothing of any moment had +happened at Effington; there had been one dinner party during his +absence, and there was to be another one on his next weekly visit, on +the Saturday. +</p> + +<p> +“I think uncle is drawing in his horns a bit,” she observed. “He seems +to be cutting it down to one dinner party a week instead of two or +three. He has been up to London a good deal more lately; he says he +has a great deal of business on. So that I daresay consoles him for +the comparative lack of gaiety. But, of course, he’s never really +happy unless he is entertaining.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I suppose he doesn’t really care twopence for the people on whom +he lavishes so much of his money?” queried Lydon. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure he doesn’t,” was the answer. “It’s just a form of +excitement. That’s the pity of it. I am fond enough of company in a +reasonable sort of way, but then I would choose people I really liked +for themselves, for their qualities, not because they lived in a big +house and were important people in the neighbourhood.” +</p> + +<p> +He rather looked forward with distaste to his next visit to Effington. +It would be so difficult to avoid showing a change of manner to +Stormont. He knew that a dozen times in the day an almost irresistible +impulse would overtake him, prompting him to tell the rubicund +hypocrite that he knew him for what he was, the friend and abettor of +Elise Makris, the decoy of a gang of blackmailers. The day would come +when he must tell him, but for the present he must practise patience. +</p> + +<p> +He must wait till his case was strengthened, so as to leave Stormont +no loophole for plausible explanation. If confronted now, how easy for +him to say that he knew nothing of the girl’s criminal activities, +that he could not be supposed to be aware she was leading a double +life. He could hear him rolling out in an unctuous voice some such +words as these: +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Leonard, do be reasonable. I made her acquaintance through +Whitehouse, a most respectable man with whom I have been associated in +business for years. I found she had great aptitude. She is useful to +me, with her charm of manner, in many delicate and difficult financial +negotiations with important people. The man Edwards is one of my +trusted agents. I often send him when I cannot go myself, confident +that he will look after my interests faithfully. Your suspicions are +the merest moonshine.” +</p> + +<p> +He might even be able to wriggle his way out, with regard to the man +John Whitehouse. He would say that he carried on two businesses under +two different names for the sake of distinguishing them. That at +Hornby Court he was Whitehouse, at his other offices Glenthorne. +</p> + +<p> +No, he must not yet show in his manner that he was on his track. But +he would avoid him as much as possible, see as little of him as he +could, take long walks and drives with Gloria. To do him justice, the +so-called financier did leave the lovers pretty much to themselves; so +did Mrs. Barnard, who might or might not be in the secret of her +brother’s double life. +</p> + +<p> +Still, he would have to sit through a good many meals with his host, +and he would find it trying. He was not very fond of those lavish +dinner parties which gave Stormont such keen pleasure, but he felt +rather grateful for this particular one which would keep them very +much apart for that evening. +</p> + +<p> +On that same Saturday afternoon, a very strange thing occurred. Mrs. +Barnard had gone out to luncheon that day, and the three sat chatting +together for some little time after the meal was concluded, Lydon +being the most silent member of the party. +</p> + +<p> +Presently they went out into the hall together, the young man having +suggested to his sweetheart that they should take a stroll in the +grounds. A peculiar spectacle met their view. +</p> + +<p> +A bronzed-looking, elderly man, with a shaggy beard and moustache, +rather shabbily dressed, was standing inside close by the door. A +smart-looking young footman stood near to him, with rather the air of +mounting guard. Duncan, the butler, was advancing in the direction of +the dining-room, but halted when he saw the party approaching. +</p> + +<p> +He spoke in his grave, respectful voice, in which there seemed just a +tinge of surprise. “A—a—person wishes to see you, sir. He declines +to give his name, says he wants to surprise you.” +</p> + +<p> +Stormont started for a second, then advanced towards the new-comer +whom he could not see very distinctly, as he was afflicted with +short-sight. Then, when he got close to him, his face went pale under +its tan, and the words dropped from his lips slowly, as if they were +forced from him. “Tom Newcombe, by all that’s wonderful.” +</p> + +<p> +The shabby-looking man burst into a loud laugh and extended a hand. +Lydon noticed it was not over-clean, and the other took it with +evident embarrassment. +</p> + +<p> +“Tom Newcombe it is, your old pal. Glad to see you again, Howard, and +to find things are so well with you. That gentleman is quite right, I +wouldn’t give my name, I wanted to give you a surprise.” He glanced at +the footman. “I think this young fellow has got an idea I’m a burglar +or something of the sort; he’s been looking at me suspiciously ever +since I came in.” +</p> + +<p> +There was an awkward pause. Stormont’s agitated countenance showed +that he was very much upset by this unexpected arrival of his “old +pal.” The footman disappeared rapidly. Duncan retreated with his slow, +majestic step, his grave face looking graver than ever. Before he came +to Effington, he had lived all his life in refined and aristocratic +families. Never had he known, in his respectable experience, such an +occurrence as this—a shabby-looking stranger entering the house and +greeting the owner as “your old pal.” There is no doubt the dignified +butler was thoroughly shaken. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon was very generous-hearted, and in spite of the altered feelings +with which he now regarded Stormont, he could not but feel a wave of +pity for the man, subjected to such a rude shock in the very midst of +his splendour, before the eyes of his astonished servants. Thinking +the most tactful course was to withdraw, he touched Gloria lightly on +the arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Let us go for our stroll,” he said, and she, understanding his +object, nodded her head. They went out and left the agitated Stormont +to deal with Mr. Tom Newcombe. +</p> + +<p> +When they were in the grounds, she turned to him, a look of surprise, +Lydon fancied a faint hint of trouble, in her clear, candid blue eyes. +“What can it mean, Leonard? Such a common fellow too, his way of +talking! Not a broken-down gentleman. You heard him speak of uncle as +his ‘old pal.’ Where in the name of wonder could he have known him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know anything of your uncle’s past, of his life as a young +man?” As her sweetheart put the question, his thought was that she +probably knew as little of the past as she did of the present. +</p> + +<p> +The girl answered him with her usual frankness. “Nothing. From some +little things father dropped, I gathered that he was rather wild in +his youth. I don’t fancy they had ever been very good friends as young +men. I am sure you have noticed how little Uncle Howard ever talks +about himself, about his business or his past. I know nothing about +these things. Auntie may know more about them than I do, but I don’t +fancy very much. He is so strangely reticent. He certainly told her he +was going to borrow money from you, but I expect he did so because he +thought you might let it out to one of us. If he had been sure of your +silence, she would never have heard a word about it, I am convinced.” +</p> + +<p> +After a short pause, she resumed the subject. “I cannot understand it, +the man is obviously of such a common class. The Stormonts come from +very homely stock, I know, but they are miles above this. I don’t +think I have ever told you much about the family history, which I +learned from my father, not my uncle. I don’t think I have ever heard +him allude to his family. He is as reticent about them as he is about +himself.” +</p> + +<p> +She proceeded to tell him about the past Stormonts. Her grandfather +was a small tradesman in a Midland town, his family consisted of two +sons, Howard and Jasper. Although not ambitious for himself, he was +for his children, and he stinted and screwed to give them a good +education to enable them to do better in the world than their father. +</p> + +<p> +That education had stood them in good stead and developed their native +brains. Jasper, the elder of the two, was a very clever fellow, +although he had made nothing like the money his brother had done. +This, in Gloria’s opinion, was simply due to lack of opportunity, to +that absence of luck which plays such a large part in human affairs. +And what money Jasper did make he took good care of. +</p> + +<p> +“But although he has never tried to make any show, father’s career has +been one of steady success,” she concluded with an air of pardonable +pride. “And he is one of the most upright men, with high ideals of +duty. He has not got Uncle Howard’s robust geniality, but he has most +lovable qualities. I should be so pleased for you to meet him.” +</p> + +<p> +They strolled about for a long time before they returned to the house. +Before they went in, Gloria had confided to her lover her perplexity +as to what Stormont would do with his unwelcome guest. Mr. Newcombe +certainly could not join the ultra-respectable dinner party that would +assemble in the evening. +</p> + +<p> +This problem was presently solved by Stormont himself, who later on +came into the billiard-room to find them. +</p> + +<p> +He had recovered a good deal from the shock, but it was easy to see by +his nervous, jerky manner, that he was still very ill at ease over +this disconcerting experience, and the necessity of furnishing some +explanation of it. +</p> + +<p> +He tried to carry it off in his usual hearty bluff way, but Lydon knew +that he would have given a big sum of money for it not to have +happened. +</p> + +<p> +“Strange after all these years, very strange! Poor old Tom Newcombe to +have come down so; he was fairly prosperous at one time. A rough +diamond, but one of the best, one of the very best.” It was obvious to +both there was no real heartiness in his voice as he pronounced these +warm eulogies on the shabby-looking man. +</p> + +<p> +He went on in the same jerky, unconvincing manner, addressing himself +rather more directly to his niece. “I suppose you are wondering how I +came to know him?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think we are,” said Gloria, speaking with her usual directness. “He +spoke as if you had been on very intimate terms.” +</p> + +<p> +“So we were, so we were,” was the reply. “I must reveal a little bit +of my life that I have said nothing to you about before. Even your +aunt and father know very little of it. When I was quite a youngster, +I was a bit inclined to kick over the traces. And, in one of my wild +moods, I went out to Australia in the hope of making my fortune +quickly. It was there I met Tom Newcombe, who had been lucky and made +quite a respectable pile. In that land of democratic equality we +chummed up together. After a few years I left, having made no headway. +But during that trying time Newcombe was a splendid pal to me, let me +share with him when I was wanting a meal. I have never set eyes on him +since. And now poor old Tom has turned up, broke to the world. One of +the saddest things I know.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon was firmly convinced the man was lying, that he had invented +this explanation of his acquaintance with the rough-looking stranger. +Even Gloria looked somewhat doubtful. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you going to do with him, uncle? Will he stay here?” she +asked quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course. Could I turn out a man who befriended me as he did?” +answered Stormont with a fine show of virtuous rectitude. “A pity we +have got that party on to-night. I should have been proud to have such +a fine fellow at my table, in spite of the fact that he is not quite +of our—er—class. But he is a sensible chap and sees things clearly. +He has no evening clothes, and none of mine would fit him. He will +have his dinner in my study, and I shall instruct the servants to show +him the greatest respect. There will be nobody here to-morrow, and he +can then join us.” +</p> + +<p> +He was carrying it out very bravely, as well as anybody could, turning +the rough Tom Newcombe into almost a hero. But Lydon disbelieved every +word he said, as he naturally would, and Gloria did not seem very +convinced. +</p> + +<p> +“You are going to help him, of course?” she said in the same quiet +tone. +</p> + +<p> +A generous glow seemed to animate Stormont’s whole manner as he +replied to her. And Lydon was more than ever convinced that the man +was acting for all he was worth. +</p> + +<p> +“I should think so. I have heaps of faults, but want of humanity, +thank Heaven, is not one of them. I shall help poor old Tom as long as +he wants help, as he helped me when I was in need.” +</p> + +<p> +With the utterance of these noble sentiments, the conversation ended. +Stormont went away to shut up with his guest till dinner-time. The +respectable people of the neighbourhood came to the banquet and did +full justice to it, in ignorance that not far from them, in the host’s +study, a shabby-looking man, waited upon by a rather supercilious +footman, was partaking in solitude of the same rich viands and choice +wines. +</p> + +<p> +When the last carriage had rolled away, Mrs. Barnard went to bed, +explaining that she was tired with her long day. Was it because she +wished to avoid any conversation with her niece about the unexpected +guest? +</p> + +<p> +Stormont went to look after Newcombe. He promised to join them shortly +in the billiard-room, as the night was still young. +</p> + +<p> +He came in looking rather relieved, and proposed a three-handed game. +“I’ve set the poor chap in front of a bottle of whisky; it will do him +good after his privations,” he said genially. “I hope, though, he +won’t take too much; he has a little weakness in that direction.” +</p> + +<p> +They had not played more than half an hour when the door opened, and +the shabby figure of Mr. Newcombe appeared. His face was very flushed, +there was no doubt about his condition. His gait was uncertain, and +his voice was decidedly thick. +</p> + +<p> +Advancing towards the billiard-table, he looked at his host with a +very unfriendly expression, in which Lydon saw, or perhaps fancied he +saw, a hint of menace. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here, Stormont, my boy. Old pal as you may have been, I’m not +going to stand much more of this sort of thing. I’m being treated in a +way I don’t like. It’s devilish unhandsome, to say the least of it.” +</p> + +<p> +The more than half-drunken man was meditating a scene in revenge for +some real or fancied grievance. Gloria paled and reddened by turns and +looked apprehensively at her uncle. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon waited developments. Would this fellow in his cups, and without +the least control over his faculties, blurt out something that would +give the lie to Stormont’s hastily concocted story? +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch11"> +CHAPTER ELEVEN +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Stormont</span> himself seemed quite taken aback by this almost savage +onslaught, almost as deprived of self-control as Newcombe himself. +“What are you complaining of?” he asked, in a voice that was scarcely +audible. +</p> + +<p> +The man whom his accent declared to be a Colonial, answered in his +thick utterance: “I don’t say anything about not being asked to dine +with your swell friends, they’re not my kidney, and I’d rather have +their room than their company. But after they’d all gone, you might +have introduced me to your family.” +</p> + +<p> +He pointed a shaking forefinger at the shrinking Gloria, who was +immensely afraid of a drunken man. Stormont was pretty liberal in his +potations, but he never got into anything approaching this condition. +</p> + +<p> +“This pretty girl, I take it, is your niece. And this, I suppose, is +her young man you told me about. Looks a bit stuck-up, I fancy, like +the young feller who brought me my dinner. But I daresay I shall find +him a good sort when we’re better acquainted.” +</p> + +<p> +He walked with his unsteady gait towards the table on which the +ever-thoughtful butler had placed refreshments. +</p> + +<p> +The action seemed to rouse Stormont from his trance. “Stop it,” he +shouted in a voice of thunder. “Stop it. You’ve had more than you can +carry already.” +</p> + +<p> +But he was too late, Newcombe had already filled a tumbler half-full +of raw whisky and tossed it down his throat as if it had been water. +Having done this, his manner seemed to change. From a mood very nearly +approaching ferocity, he lapsed into one of maudlin sentimentality. A +weak smile overspread his bearded countenance. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, my boy, we mustn’t quarrel, we’ve been too dear old pals for +that.” He laughed with the disconcerting hilarity of a drunken man. +“Lord, what fine games we’ve had in our day, Howard, haven’t we? Do +you remember that glorious day we followed up old Billy Stiles——?” +</p> + +<p> +Again Stormont’s voice rang out, and there was a note of almost agony +in it. “Stop, Newcombe, for Heaven’s sake stop. You forget there is a +woman present.” +</p> + +<p> +The appeal seemed momentarily to sober the wretched man. He turned his +bleary eyes in the direction of Gloria. “Sorry, miss, I’m sure; I +forgot you were here. No offence meant, Howard, my dear old pal. I +haven’t said anything; you’ve noticed that.” +</p> + +<p> +It was time to end the disgusting scene. Stormont turned to the young +man. “Very sorry, but you’d better take Gloria away. I’ll deal with +this drunken creature and get him to bed.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke, he turned a very malevolent glance on the huddled-up +Newcombe, who had closed his eyes after his last speech, and appeared +to be falling asleep. There was positive hatred in that glance, Lydon +felt assured. And yet a few hours ago he had spoken of the man as a +splendid fellow, as one of the very best. The young man doubted if +there was much love lost on either side, in spite of Newcombe’s +reference to his friend as a dear old pal. +</p> + +<p> +The lovers went into the drawing-room. Gloria still looked pale, and +not a little indignant. “What a perfect brute!” she cried. “Why has +uncle put up with him for five minutes? You could see the sort he was +at the first glance, a rough savage. Why did he not give him some +money, and make him go?” +</p> + +<p> +Almost before he was aware of it, the words slipped out of her +sweetheart’s mouth, words that voiced his inmost thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +“Depend upon it, dear, Mr. Stormont has some good reasons for not +wishing to offend this uncouth fellow.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl looked up with a startled glance, one which had fear in it as +well as surprise. “Leonard, what is in your mind? Do you suggest”—her +voice faltered for a second—“that he knows anything to Uncle Howard’s +discredit?” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon felt he had gone a bit too far at the present juncture. He +shrugged his shoulders and spoke in indifferent tones. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t suppose young men who go out to Australia and mix with a +rough crowd lead very saintly lives. I daresay Newcombe is acquainted +with a few episodes that would be better suppressed in your uncle’s +family circle. Don’t worry, darling.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I can’t help it,” replied the ever-frank Gloria. “The whole thing +is so mysterious, and somehow uncle’s explanation seemed to me lame +and halting. Did it strike you in the same way?” +</p> + +<p> +Leonard hesitated for a moment. It would be easy to say that he had +accepted that statement in perfect good faith, in short, to tell an +absolute lie. But he thought it better on the whole that Gloria should +be allowed to nurse her suspicions. The blow would fall lighter on her +when it had to come. He told her, therefore, that the same impression +had been made on him. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder what he was going to say when he was stopped!” she remarked, +after a brief pause. “When he was going to tell something about a man +they had followed up. Uncle seemed in an agony of apprehension. I +almost wish it had come out; I shall only be speculating what it was. +I do hope he is not making an indefinite stay here.” +</p> + +<p> +But on this point Lydon thought he could see his way to give her some +comfort. Stormont was much too clever a man to allow Newcombe to +exhibit himself to his neighbours; he had been disturbed quite enough +by the fact that he had been seen by the family and servants. +</p> + +<p> +“Your uncle is a resourceful man, Gloria, I am sure he will soon see a +way of getting rid of him without hurting his feelings. And when the +fellow gets sober again I daresay he will have the sense to perceive +that Effington Hall is hardly a fit <i>milieu</i> for him.” +</p> + +<p> +The next morning the Colonial did not come down to breakfast; probably +it was too severe a task after the potations of the previous evening. +He appeared in Stormont’s study about twelve o’clock, Lydon and the +ladies having gone to church. What passed between the pair, they had +no means of knowing. Newcombe lunched with them, and his demeanour was +very chastened. He ate heartily, but drank very sparingly. Perhaps his +host had given him a lecture on the fatal effects of intemperance. And +during the meal he scarcely opened his lips. +</p> + +<p> +Gloria and her sweetheart went out for their afternoon walk. When they +came back to tea, neither Stormont nor Newcombe was visible. Mrs. +Barnard said that her brother had driven the visitor up to London, +where he intended to find a lodging. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon drew a breath of relief: had the Colonial stayed, there might +have been another disagreeable scene. Gloria openly expressed her +satisfaction. “Loathsome creature, I hope he has gone for good,” she +ejaculated fervently. “Have you ever seen him before, aunt?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never, my dear, nor do I want to see him again. It must have amazed +your uncle very greatly. Of course in a wild place such as he went to +as a young man, you cannot pick and choose the people you are forced +to associate with. But it is distinctly unpleasant when they turn up +in after life and remind you of the old acquaintance.” +</p> + +<p> +Had Stormont told her the same tale he had told to them, or did she +know more about that sinister visitor than they did? Nothing in her +demeanour enabled Lydon to determine the point. +</p> + +<p> +Stormont returned in time for dinner, having deposited his visitor +somewhere. No further allusion was made to him by any member of the +party, but his advent had created an uncomfortable feeling which was +not wholly allayed by his departure. +</p> + +<p> +Leonard guessed that Mr. Newcombe had taken away with him either a +good sum in cash or a substantial cheque. He had no doubt in his own +mind that the Colonial knew something damaging about Stormont, and +that his visit had been made for the purpose of extorting hush-money. +If so, there was a grim irony in the situation. The man who, according +to all the present evidence, was a blackmailer, was being blackmailed +himself, and maintaining his position as the opulent owner of +Effington by the grace of this rough and down-at-heel Colonial. +</p> + +<p> +After dinner Stormont shut himself up in his study. During dinner he +had been very quiet, quite unlike his usual genial, rather boisterous +self; it was evident that Newcombe had left a disturbing influence +behind him. Mrs. Barnard went to her own particular sanctum, and the +young people had the drawing-room to themselves. +</p> + +<p> +“It may have been my fancy,” remarked Gloria, “but I thought I +detected a subtle difference in Duncan’s manner to-day. I saw his face +drop in the hall when that creature spoke of himself as being an old +pal of uncle’s. I shouldn’t wonder if he has made up his mind that it +is no longer a respectable establishment to remain in and intends to +give notice.” +</p> + +<p> +She had diagnosed the state of the dignified butler’s feelings +correctly, for the next day Duncan intimated his wish to leave. When +pressed for a reason, he murmured something evasive about his desire +for a change. It was a decided shock to his employer, as it showed him +what an unfavourable impression had been created by the unwelcome +visit of this rough stranger. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon did not know this when he left. Duncan had not delivered his +bombshell till later in the morning. There had been considerable +excitement at the breakfast-table. Something had happened which +temporarily drove Mr. Newcombe out of the minds of every member of the +family. Stormont had received a letter from his brother Jasper, dated +from the <i>Hotel Cecil</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Gloria’s father and mother were staying there, having arrived in +London early on the Sunday. They had given no previous intimation of +their intended visit, as they wanted it to come as a complete surprise +to their relatives. Would they come and see them on the Monday if they +had no previous engagement which it was impossible to put off? Of +course they would dine with them, and in this invitation Leonard was +included. Gloria must stay with them at least a week if not longer. +</p> + +<p> +The unpleasant atmosphere created by the late happenings seemed very +much cleared by this pleasant news. Stormont and his sister seemed +quite pleased, in spite of the fact that the brothers had not been +very great friends in their youth. He remarked with a touch of his +former geniality that it would be very pleasant to see good old Jasper +again, a sentiment fully endorsed by Mrs. Barnard. Gloria clapped her +hands together in her frank delight. +</p> + +<p> +“How lovely!” she cried. “It was on the tip of my tongue to say I wish +they had let us know beforehand. But I think I am rather glad they +have taken us by surprise. It is such a sensation.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned impetuously towards her sweetheart. “I am sure you will +like my father very much, Leonard. He is one of the dearest men, and +very fond of young people, who all take to him. He is awfully liked +out there by everybody, and he has the highest reputation for +integrity and highmindedness.” +</p> + +<p> +Did Howard Stormont look just a little glum as he listened to this +sincere praise of his elder brother, or was it Lydon’s fancy? Had the +man’s conscience, deadened as it must be, suddenly awakened to fresh +life and pricked at him as he thought of the difference between +Gloria’s father and himself? +</p> + +<p> +Lydon was pleasurably excited at the prospect of meeting with Jasper +Stormont, of whom his daughter had always spoken with love and the +greatest respect. She had often told him how attached to him she had +been as a child, and what grief she had suffered at parting from her +parents. And time and the generous treatment of her aunt and uncle had +never weakened that early affection. +</p> + +<p> +When the young man met them in the hall of the <i>Cecil</i>, a few minutes +before the time fixed for dinner, he was very favourably impressed by +the appearance of both mother and father. Mrs. Stormont was a very +handsome woman, and her slim elegant figure made her look remarkably +young. She had preserved herself wonderfully, and might have passed +for her daughter’s elder sister. It was easy to see the husband was +very proud of his youthful-looking wife. +</p> + +<p> +In appearance, Jasper Stormont was quite unlike his younger brother, +his junior by two years. He was tall and spare, with an aristocratic +bearing. His face, if not exactly handsome, was pleasant to look upon +and his features were refined. His manner was quietly genial, without +that bluff boisterousness which distinguished the so-called financier. +It exhaled an air of old-world courtesy which stood out in marked +contrast to some modern manners. +</p> + +<p> +He welcomed the young man with a cordiality that was perfect under the +circumstances, not too effusive or overdone. Lydon was prepared to +think that everything about the man was genuine; he seemed a perfect +type of the commercial aristocracy. +</p> + +<p> +“Delighted to see you, Mr. Lydon; later on I shall come to the more +familiar Christian name. But to such a long exile—we have been over +only once before since I left England—everything seems strange, and +in some cases I must confess, of course not in the present one, a +little out of tune. I am glad to see my little girlie looking so well; +certainly her uncle and aunt have taken great care of her and made her +very happy. She is staying here with us for a week, and at the end of +that my brother Howard insists that we must shift our quarters to +Effington.” +</p> + +<p> +There was something a little formal in his words, in his diction, that +Lydon rather liked. There was also about the man an ease, an +unconscious air of authority that pleased him. Beside him his brother, +Howard Stormont, with his supposed great wealth, appeared plebeian. +</p> + +<p> +He learned afterwards from Gloria that the elder brother was much the +superior in mentality. He might not have the money-making instinct so +strongly developed, but he had taken far greater advantage of the good +education their father had bestowed upon them. He was a very +cultivated man, passionately fond of art and music and an omnivorous +reader. Howard was essentially a man of the world and nothing more; +the arts did not interest him, and the daily newspapers were almost +his sole literature. +</p> + +<p> +It was a very pleasant dinner. Jasper Stormont was an exceedingly good +talker, but he led the conversation without any attempt to monopolize +it, giving everybody a chance to contribute to the common fund of +entertainment. +</p> + +<p> +Howard Stormont and his sister were staying the night at the hotel, +returning to Effington on the morrow. Leonard left early, good taste +suggesting that he should not intrude himself too long on what was a +family conclave. There must be many things they would wish to discuss +alone. +</p> + +<p> +The liking between the two men seemed mutual. Jasper Stormont shook +Leonard’s hand very warmly when they parted. “As I told you, Gloria is +going to give herself to us for a week, and I should like you to come +very often. To dinner every night if you can.” +</p> + +<p> +He gave him a very charming smile when the young men protested that +this was taking undue advantage of his position. “Not at all, my dear +young friend. I am afraid my motive is a rather selfish one. I want to +become well acquainted with my future son-in-law.” +</p> + +<p> +Gloria saw him off; the others with commendable tact did not intrude +upon the tender farewell of the lovers. +</p> + +<p> +“You like my dear old dad, don’t you, Leonard? He has a heart of +gold,” asked Gloria as they said good night. +</p> + +<p> +And Leonard was able to say honestly that he had taken a great liking +to Jasper Stormont. He was quite convinced, even on this short +acquaintance, he was a white man through and through. +</p> + +<p> +It followed that, being so pressed, the young man did dine at the +<i>Cecil</i> every evening of that week. The Stormonts had a small private +sitting-room, but Jasper often took Lydon down into the smoking-room +for a private chat. He had openly avowed his wish to become better +acquainted with his future son-in-law, and these informal intimate +conversations would help him quickly to that knowledge. +</p> + +<p> +He told Leonard first of his future plans. He expected to retire in +about five years from now and would come back to spend his declining +years in England. He was nothing like so rich a man as his brother +Howard, so he said, but he would be able to live comfortably on the +interest of what he had saved. +</p> + +<p> +He went on to speak of Gloria’s childhood, and the unhappy time when +they had to part with her. +</p> + +<p> +“It was one of the greatest griefs of our life,” he said in his +simple, straightforward way. “But there was no help for it. We had the +best medical advice, and the verdict was unanimous, she could not live +in the East. My other child, a son, has thrived there—difference of +constitution, of course.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused a moment, before resuming this portion of his daughter’s +history, a good deal of which the young man had gathered from his +sweetheart. +</p> + +<p> +“Just to go back a moment. Howard and I had not been very attached +brothers in our youth, I should hesitate to say with whom the fault +lay. Enough that with regard to most things we did not see eye to +eye.” +</p> + +<p> +Jasper Stormont did not say what those things were. And Lydon, dearly +as he would have liked to know, did not think it seemly to ask him. +</p> + +<p> +“But we kept up a rather desultory, if brief correspondence. When this +trouble came upon us, I wrote to him in an agony of spirit as it were, +telling him that we had to part with one of our beloved children. In +writing that letter, I had no ulterior motive in my mind. From what I +knew of my brother’s character, I should have considered him the last +man in the world to consider anything but his own comfort, to disturb +the mode of life which he had mapped out for himself.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon gathered this much from those words: namely, that Howard +Stormont was judged to be, in reality, a selfish creature, who lived +for himself, who only studied himself. +</p> + +<p> +“To my intense surprise, I received an answer which caused me to take +a totally different view of him. He wrote me that having remained a +bachelor so long, there was practically no chance of his exchanging +his estate. He had prospered greatly in the world; he lived with our +widowed sister, Maud Barnard, who had a small income of her own. The +house was at times a bit dull; he thought it would be brightened by +the presence of a child, in whom they could take an interest and find +an object of affection. He offered to adopt Gloria, and make her +welfare his solemn charge. Anyway, let the experiment be tried, for +say a couple of years. If, at the end of that time, Gloria found she +was not happy, her father could make other arrangements.” +</p> + +<p> +Jasper Stormont paused a little time before he resumed. “But, +fortunately, that did not happen. They spoiled the girl from the day +she went into her new home, and the spoiling has gone on, but I think +I can say my dear girl is none the worse for it. And now, my dear +Leonard, I come to a somewhat delicate topic.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I can guess the nature of it,” interjected Lydon. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, of course Gloria has told you. I gathered as much from her. +Naturally, grateful as she is to her uncle for his care of her, his +kindness and generosity, she would conceal nothing from us. She has +told me of that loan of a thousand pounds, which of course throws a +very clear light upon my brother’s financial position. We are both men +of business; it tells the same story to both. I know nothing of the +nature of Howard’s business, but it must be a very precarious one, +since he is up to-day and down to-morrow. I don’t suppose he will +leave anything behind him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I feel quite certain he will not,” Lydon agreed. “But when I asked +Gloria to be my wife, I never took any expectations of that sort into +account.” +</p> + +<p> +“I quite believe you; you loved my dear daughter for herself. Well, +Leonard, I should like to tell you this. When I and her mother die, +whatever I may have to leave will be divided equally between my +children. Gloria will not be an heiress, but neither will she be a +pauper.” +</p> + +<p> +Leonard bowed his head in acknowledgment of this intimation, conveyed +with such delicacy and courtesy. +</p> + +<p> +Howard Stormont might be a scoundrel, a mover in crooked ways, as his +connection with Elise Makris proved, but his brother was certainly an +honest man. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch12"> +CHAPTER TWELVE +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">At</span> the end of the week, the Jasper Stormonts moved to the fine old +Tudor house at Effington. And, shortly before they did so, there came +for Lydon an invitation from his future uncle-in-law which the young +man fancied had been instigated by the banker. If it did not interfere +with his business arrangements, would Leonard make the Hall his +headquarters for the next week, going up to London in the morning and +returning when the duties of the day were done? Jasper Stormont’s +holiday was to be only a brief one, and shortly he would return to +China for another long period of exile. Perhaps in this brief time he +wished to see as much as possible of the man who was to marry his +daughter, in order to prove if further acquaintance would increase or +diminish his first favourable impressions of him. +</p> + +<p> +For Gloria had told him that her father had formed an exceedingly good +opinion of him, and expressed his satisfaction that she had made such +a wise choice. +</p> + +<p> +“And dear dad’s opinion is worth having,” said the girl proudly. She +was fond of her uncle, very grateful to him for all he had done for +her, for the happiness he had brought into her life. But it was easy +to see that for her father she had a great respect almost amounting to +reverence, in addition to her filial love. No doubt, so far as +character was concerned, she put the two men on totally different +planes. And Lydon knew that her instinct was right. Even if he had +never opened that letter to Zillah Mayhew, and still believed Howard +Stormont to be what he had originally thought him—a shrewd, blunt, +genial fellow—he would have soon discovered that Jasper was made of +the sounder metal. +</p> + +<p> +The young man laughingly told his sweetheart that he thought her +father had been at the bottom of this unusual invitation, and she +admitted it. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s a very keen judge of character,” she said. “In his responsible +position he is bound to be. And he says you never thoroughly know a +man till you have stayed in the same house with him. No doubt that is +why he wanted you here daily for a time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Till he had completed his investigations, eh?” observed Lydon, with +an amused smile, although at the same time he had every sympathy with +regard to Jasper’s anxiety on behalf of his child. “Well, dear, I +shall have to mind my P’s and Q’s, shan’t I? I must take care not to +come down grumpy in the morning, or show any of the latent villainy +that is hidden somewhere in my disposition.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl laughed happily. She had inherited her father’s capacity for +reading character, and she had not much fear of this open, honest, +even-tempered young fellow, whose moods hardly ever seemed to vary. +</p> + +<p> +It occurred to Lydon that, on this visit, Stormont was devoting +himself much more closely to his business, whatever it might be, than +was usual with him. He went up pretty early to London every day, and +on two occasions he missed dinner, and did not return till late in the +evening. Evidently something of importance was going on. +</p> + +<p> +There were, strange to relate, no dinner parties during that week. +Lydon could hardly believe there was so much affection between the two +men that Howard wanted to enjoy his brother’s company without +interruption. He thought it was rather a matter of policy. +</p> + +<p> +Howard knew that, if questioned, Gloria would not be able to conceal +the fact of his extravagance. She might even let out that there were +periods when he was obviously short of money, and in view of these +possible confidences he did not wish to give Jasper the elder +brother’s privilege of lecturing him. In the eyes of such a financial +purist as the banker, his happy-go-lucky methods would savour of +nothing short of criminal folly. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon listened to his sentiments one night when the two men were +together in the smoking-room, on the second occasion on which Howard +had not returned to dinner. The banker’s face was very grim as he +delivered his criticism on what he knew and had observed. +</p> + +<p> +“I have known next to nothing of my brother’s affairs since he left +England. I knew he went to Australia for a while and that things did +not prosper greatly with him there. When his letter arrived, offering +to adopt Gloria, and stating that he was firmly on his feet, I +accepted what he said in good faith. Her letters showed they were all +leading a very luxurious life, and that money seemed to be spent like +water. Of course, I was terribly disillusioned when, such a short time +ago, I learned the actual truth. Without mincing words, I can tell you +I was not only surprised but intensely disgusted, especially when I +heard of that thousand pounds borrowed from you. It hit Gloria very +hard, that transaction. She is a girl of extremely delicate feeling, +and under the peculiar circumstances it was in the very worst taste. +Drowning men, we know, catch at straws; it showed how very near to +drowning he must have been. He is no fool; he must know how ugly it +would look to a third party.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon made no comment. Had things not been as they were, he might have +put up some defence for Howard Stormont, out of his natural kindness +of heart. But he could not do so now. The man was unscrupulous to the +core. +</p> + +<p> +“When my brother was a young man, he was always very headstrong, also +fearfully extravagant, if only in a small way,” went on Jasper in the +same severe tone. “He never seemed able to curb his desires, to +restrain any momentary impulse. If he wanted a thing and hadn’t the +money to pay for it, he would go into debt to get it, trusting that +luck would enable him to avoid the disagreeable consequences. I know +this fatal weakness was a great anxiety to our parents, honest and +God-fearing people, and made them tremble for his future. +</p> + +<p> +“This big house, with its staff of indoor and outdoor servants eating +him up, is a piece of the most colossal folly I have ever come across, +and in my business we meet with very many specimens of the +spendthrift. Everybody in the banking world does. I have no hesitation +in discussing it with you; as Gloria’s future husband you have a right +to know how matters stand. And further, in the distress which he +brought on himself, he showed his hand plainly to you.” +</p> + +<p> +As Jasper Stormont elected to be so confidential with him, he thought +he might continue the conversation on the same lines. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems to me that his business is evidently a very precarious one. +It is rather a strange thing that I have never known what that +business really is; it is not a thing on which you can put a quite +straight question to a man, but it usually leaks out pretty soon. You +know that I am a consulting engineer; I know that you hold a high post +in the banking world. I have never even heard from your brother where +his offices are. Gloria does not seem to know much about it. She +thought he was what you call a financier. Well, we must admit that is +rather a vague term.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I can assure you, Leonard, I know almost as little as you do; my +sister appears equally ignorant. When I have talked about the subject, +about which there should be no mystery, there is an obvious attempt to +sheer off it. So far as I can gather from random statements, he might +be described as a financier. He gets concessions from foreign +countries; he negotiates big loans for all sorts of things, does a bit +of company promoting, etc. But he avoids details and gives no names. +Of course, some men are very reticent about their private affairs, but +reticence so pronounced savours greatly of mystery.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a long pause and then the banker waved his hand round the +room, decorated and furnished in such a costly fashion, with a gesture +that was contemptuous. +</p> + +<p> +“But one thing I am certain of, I have often been told that I possess +second sight in matters like these. This cannot go on for long, in the +light that has been thrown upon it by his borrowing from you what was, +after all, a trifling sum for a man in a good way of business to find. +A year or two of bad trade will bring him to the ground. Perhaps +another year’s reprieve in which he will be struggling to tide over. +You and I will then, I expect, be invited to put money into the +sinking ship. If so, take my advice and sternly refuse. With a man of +my brother’s headstrong nature and extravagant proclivities, you might +as well throw it in the sea.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon thanked his future father-in-law for his advice, thinking, as he +did so, that Howard Stormont would never get another loan out of him. +Did this honourable, straightforward man of business only know what he +knew, he would be overwhelmed with grief and shame at possessing such +a brother. +</p> + +<p> +“You can see it is a subject on which I have necessarily to hold my +tongue,” exclaimed Jasper Stormont. “For all I ought to know to the +contrary, he may be conducting his affairs with the greatest prudence, +is making enough to enable him to run this place and accumulate a fair +fortune besides. What I know about the true state of affairs comes +from Gloria, from whom I have drawn it with the greatest reluctance. +My lips are sealed; she would hate him to find that she has been +telling tales out of school; for whatever faults he may have, he has +taken the place of a second father to her, and she cannot but +appreciate him for that.” +</p> + +<p> +Yes, scoundrel as he might be, Howard Stormont no doubt had his good +points, and his kindness to his niece was not the least amongst them. +</p> + +<p> +“I forgot to tell you one thing, not that I am very greatly impressed +by it,” said the banker as they parted for the evening. “The other +day, in a fit of confidence, he imparted to me that he was on a very +big thing which he expected to mature shortly, something out of which +he would make enough to secure a handsome competence for life. If this +came off, he said he would retire from business, and lead this life of +a country gentleman which appears to have such great fascinations for +him.” +</p> + +<p> +Leonard pricked up his ears at this information. If Howard Stormont +was on some big enterprise, it would be of a nefarious kind. +</p> + +<p> +“He didn’t disclose the nature of this great <i>coup</i>, of course?” he +asked. +</p> + +<p> +The banker shook his head. “He didn’t give me the slightest hint. But, +as I said, I attach very little importance to it. All these +speculators are sanguine creatures, and follow wills-o’-the-wisp with +a blind devotion worthy of a better cause. They have always got some +grand scheme on which is to make them rich beyond the dreams of +avarice.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon was much impressed by that conversation with Jasper Stormont. +Like himself, at an earlier stage, he had sensed a certain mystery +surrounding his brother. He wondered whether bankruptcy and poverty +would be the only doom that might fall upon the owner of Effington +Hall? He thought he might escape that, in spite of the banker’s gloomy +predictions. After all, he had kept up opulent state for a great many +years. According to Gloria’s statement, he had been wealthy ever since +she had taken up her residence with them. He was a cunning and +resourceful man; although he lacked the solid qualities of his +brother, probably he would never come quite down to the ground. But +the young man was not sure a darker doom might not descend upon him in +spite of his cleverness. +</p> + +<p> +He wondered if his sweetheart had told her father of the visit of that +shabby Colonial, and the scene in the billiard-room when the drunken +creature had been on the point of blurting out something, and had been +stopped by his host, who was in a perfect agony of apprehension. He +asked her the next day, and she assured him she had kept silence. +</p> + +<p> +“I have really let out more about Uncle Howard than I ought,” she +explained, in a contrite voice. “But dad has a very persuasive way +with him; he would have made a splendid cross-examiner. I expect his +business has developed his faculties in that direction; he says that +people wanting favours come to him with all sorts of ingenious lies. +He leads you on in a quiet, suave sort of way to all kinds of +admissions. And you know I haven’t the gift of reticence, I am far too +outspoken. I could see that uncle was terribly upset by that visit. I +have noticed a great change in him since. He gives me the impression +of a man who has received a great shock, and can’t recover from it.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon had himself noticed a certain change in the man. He was less +bluff and genial than he used to be, and at times he caught a brooding +expression, an air of abstraction, as if he were thinking deeply over +something. At first he imagined Howard was nerving himself to make a +confession to his brother, similar to the one he had made to himself, +that he was living up to his income and that Gloria could expect very +little from him when he died. But on thinking more over it he came to +the conclusion that his sweetheart was right, that the change in his +demeanour was due to the visit of Tom Newcombe, his “old pal.” +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime Lydon had received reports from Grewgus, the first +arriving a few days after he had left Paris. From these he learned +that the detective and his colleague were keeping a close watch upon +the man Edwards and Miss Glenthorne, to call her by her latest alias. +They watched them from about eleven o’clock in the morning—the woman +did not stir out till then—till late at night. +</p> + +<p> +The programme was much the same every day. In the morning Zillah met +the man Edwards, and they walked about together in the outskirts of +Paris. They steered clear of the well-known portions, as no doubt +Calliard was pursuing his business there, and they might run across +him at any moment. In the afternoon they usually took a car and drove +out to Versailles or some other suburb. +</p> + +<p> +In the evening Zillah invariably met the opulent jeweller, Calliard, +and they dined together at one of the numerous expensive restaurants +that abound in the gay city. Monsieur Calliard was evidently a rich +man and begrudged nothing in the pursuit of his pleasures. +</p> + +<p> +Then one day came a brief telegram from Grewgus: “The birds have +flown, slipped away. All news when we meet. Leaving to-day. Be at my +office to-morrow morning as early as you like.” +</p> + +<p> +On the face of it, it looked as if the detective had failed in his +mission, that the two schemers had outwitted him, and stolen a march +on him. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch13"> +CHAPTER THIRTEEN +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Lydon</span> thought that Grewgus looked somewhat crestfallen when they met +the following morning in the offices in Craven Street. +</p> + +<p> +He opened the conversation in a rather apologetic tone. “Well, Mr. +Lydon, the primary object for which we went to Paris was the +establishment of the fact that Zillah Mayhew was the same person as +Elise Makris. But that fact we established on the first day we arrived +there. I stayed on in order to find something more than that. I am +sorry to tell you I have found nothing, except one little thing that +makes the affair more mysterious.” +</p> + +<p> +“You say they contrived to give you the slip. How was that done when +you were keeping such a close watch on them?” asked the young man in a +tone that plainly showed his disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus hastened to explain. “I am afraid I must plead guilty to a +little want of foresight. After watching very carefully for three +days, we became pretty sure that neither the woman nor her friend +Edwards were what you would call early birds. They did not stir out +before a fairly late hour in the morning.” +</p> + +<p> +Having, as they thought, established this fact, the two men did not +begin their watch till a certain hour themselves. Had they not been so +confident, it would have been easy to take it in turns to watch one of +them, since, if one of them went out, it was for the purpose of +ultimately meeting the other. As a fact, to carry out the thing +thoroughly, a third, perhaps a fourth, man was wanted. +</p> + +<p> +“That of course would have entailed a great deal more expense than I +felt myself justified in putting you to,” said Grewgus in exculpating +himself. “The last time I saw Zillah Mayhew, she was dining as usual +with her elderly cavalier. Edwards, according to custom, was spending +his evenings at one of the music-halls. My colleague Simmons never +observed him with anybody, and he never met Miss Mayhew at night. And +it is pretty certain that he never came into contact with Calliard. +Whatever business was to be carried on with the Frenchman seemed to be +left entirely in her hands. No doubt she talked things over with +Edwards in their daily meetings.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have not even proved conclusively that her object was what we all +thought it to be, blackmail?” interjected Lydon. +</p> + +<p> +“If you don’t mind, I will just leave that question unanswered for a +moment or two while I relate how they gave us the slip. On that +particular morning, no Zillah Mayhew issued forth from the hotel. I +waited about for a very long time till Simmons joined me. His news was +startling. Edwards, who, as I told you, had put up in another part of +the town, did not turn out either. After a decent interval, Simmons, +who knows somebody in pretty nearly every hotel in Paris, went in and +made inquiries. +</p> + +<p> +“He learned that Edwards had left some two hours before, carrying his +luggage, a very light portmanteau, with him. He had told them he was +returning to England. Of course I smelt a rat at once, and instructed +Simmons to go into the <i>Terminus</i> and inquire if Mrs. and Miss +Glenthorne were still there. The answer was in the negative. They had +also made an early departure, and had driven to the Gare du Nord; +presumably they were returning to England too.” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems pretty clear they found out they were being watched, and +judged it prudent to leave,” was Lydon’s natural comment. +</p> + +<p> +“It looks very like it,” admitted Grewgus. “Now comes the surprising +part of the story. I should have come away at once, but that I had a +fancy to interview Calliard to ascertain if our suspicions were +correct—our suspicions, I mean, as to the object of her acquaintance +with a man so much her senior.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus then proceeded to narrate how, on the following evening, he +had run the jeweller to earth, while dining at one of his favourite +restaurants. He was alone at a rather big table, and the detective +seated himself at it, after a polite apology to the Frenchman for +disturbing him, which was accepted with the habitual courtesy of his +country. Presently they got into general conversation, and when he +judged the time was ripe, Grewgus produced his card and handed it to +him. +</p> + +<p> +When Monsieur Calliard, who, by the way, spoke English very passably, +ascertained from the card the occupation of the man who had seated +himself at the table, he turned pale and showed considerable signs of +embarrassment. Grewgus easily guessed the reasons for his disturbance. +This opulent jeweller was no doubt a good bit of a philanderer, and +easily attracted by women. His first thought was that his wife +suspected him and had put a private inquiry agent on his track. +</p> + +<p> +Of course, this notion had to be quickly dispelled. Grewgus explained +that he was not at all concerned with the way in which Monsieur +Calliard chose to spend his leisure hours, but he was greatly +interested in the lady with whom he had dined so frequently. +</p> + +<p> +At this reassuring statement, Monsieur Calliard recovered his +composure and insisted upon helping his companion to a glass of the +very excellent champagne he was drinking with his dinner. It was easy +to diagnose him as a free liver, a man of considerable <i>bonhomie</i>, and +by no means inclined to take a puritan view of life. He answered the +questions put to him in the frankest manner. How had he made the +acquaintance of the lady, and had he always known her by the name of +Glenthorne, as she went sometimes by others? +</p> + +<p> +The genial jeweller raised his eyebrows at the second of the two +questions. He was evidently going to learn something. +</p> + +<p> +“Listen, and I will tell you all about it. I suppose it goes without +saying you know who I am?” began Monsieur Calliard. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” replied Grewgus, with an amiable smile, “you are a +partner in the well-known firm of Dubost Frères of Marseilles.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it would be easy for you to find out. I suppose I am known +to a large circle of waiters in the hotels and restaurants of Paris. I +met this young lady first at Trouville last year, where we formed a +slight acquaintance. I met her later on in Rome, the acquaintance +progressed a little further, and I have only known her under the name +of Glenthorne. At both these places she was in the company of her +mother, a rather good-looking Jewess.” +</p> + +<p> +“She was not formally introduced to you by anybody, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +Monsieur Calliard shrugged his shoulders with the wealth of gesture +typical of his countrymen. “Ah, no. At Trouville I stayed in the same +hotel, at Rome I met her casually in the street, and she and her +mother dined two or three times with me. She struck me as a very chic +and charming young person who had every wish to make herself friendly. +But I could not quite place her, and her mother was perhaps just a +little in the way at Rome, so that I could not get to know very much +about her. She was exceedingly quiet and ladylike, well educated, and +the mother seemed a most respectable person.” +</p> + +<p> +“At Rome, I take it, you began to get a bit more fascinated, Monsieur +Calliard?” suggested the detective. +</p> + +<p> +Again that shrug of the shoulders. “At Marseilles, where one is so +well known and, to a certain extent, looked up to, Monsieur Grewgus, +one has to lead a very staid life. I will confess frankly I am not +quite as good a boy as I should be. I travel about a great deal in the +course of my business, and when I find myself in a place where I have +no intimate friends, I admit to a little flutter now and then. I am +too old to be a gay Lothario, but I am naturally fond of women’s +society,” he added with a roguish smile, “especially the society of +pretty and attractive women.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused to pour out a second glass of champagne for the interested +Grewgus. Certainly there was no sullen reserve about the genial and +opulent-looking jeweller. He alluded in the frankest fashion to his +little weaknesses, even his peccadilloes. +</p> + +<p> +“This happened last year,” he resumed. “Charming and chic as she is, +she had almost faded from my mind. Behold, walking down the Boulevard +des Italiens, I come upon her alone. I was very pleased to see her, +for I was getting a bit bored with my own society, and she appeared +pleased to see me. She told me she and her mother were staying at the +<i>Hôtel Terminus</i>. Ah, that excellent mother, she had spoiled the Rome +visit. I did not require any more of the good mother. I plucked up my +courage, and asked her point-blank if she could see her way to dine +with me without a chaperone. I should not have been surprised if she +had declined, but she accepted, explaining that things were very much +altered in her own English country since the war, and that for herself +she had always paid little heed to convention.” +</p> + +<p> +With another expressive gesture, Monsieur Calliard lifted his hands. +“Since then she has dined with me every evening up till last night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know she has left Paris this morning?” queried Grewgus. +</p> + +<p> +“She informed me of her intention as we sat at dinner. I was a little +amazed because, having a slack time to-day, we had half made an +appointment to go to Versailles. She excused herself on the plea that +her mother had to return to London on urgent business. I suggested she +should follow Madame Glenthorne later on, but she smiled when I did +so. ‘I am pretty unconventional, Monsieur Calliard,’ she said, ‘but +not quite bold enough for that.’ I think, my friend, that is all I +have to tell you, and now, perhaps, as you seem to know a good deal +about this young lady, you will tell me something that interests me.” +</p> + +<p> +“With the greatest pleasure, Monsieur Calliard. I will presently tell +you all I do know. But first I should like to put another question. +What sort of an account did the young lady give of herself to you?” +</p> + +<p> +The jeweller considered: “I cannot remember that she was very +communicative. I gathered that her mother had private means, that they +travelled about a good deal, and were very familiar with the +Continent. She also told me her father was dead, and that they had +hardly any relatives.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she tell you where she lived when in England?” +</p> + +<p> +“They did not stay very much in England, according to her account. +When they did they stopped with an uncle—ah—what is the name of the +place, where your King has a fine Castle?” +</p> + +<p> +“Windsor,” suggested Grewgus. +</p> + +<p> +“That is it, Windsor. I did notice one thing about her, that she was +very reserved about her own affairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“She had every reason to be,” said the detective grimly. “Well, +Monsieur Calliard, you have been very obliging. It is now my turn to +give you some information. I have every reason to believe that this +agreeable-mannered young woman is one of the decoys of a firm of +blackmailers; that she gets hold of men with the ultimate object of +fleecing them.” +</p> + +<p> +The Frenchman looked intensely astonished. “The decoy of a +blackmailing gang,” he remarked. “A handsome, brilliant young woman +like that! She ought to have made a good marriage. I cannot help +feeling for her more pity than disgust. And that respectable-looking +old Jewess, the mother. Is she a criminal also?” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus looked at him sharply. “You had no suspicion, then, of this, I +take it? Now, Monsieur Calliard, whatever you say to me on this +subject will pass out of my mind; I promise you I will not make use of +it. Can you assure me that she has not attempted to blackmail you?” +</p> + +<p> +It occurred to Grewgus that she had made the attempt, and that her +sudden flight was due to the fact that she had been foiled, that the +Frenchman had taken a bold attitude and defied her. The next words +undeceived him. +</p> + +<p> +“Upon my word of honour, Monsieur Grewgus, no.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus was fairly convinced that the jeweller was speaking the truth, +that he was not actuated by a feeling of shame which led him to deny +he had been the victim of an artful adventuress. +</p> + +<p> +“Upon my word of honour, no,” he repeated emphatically. “The opinion I +formed of her was that she was an unconventional girl, leading a +roving sort of existence with a careless and not very interesting +mother, that she was pleased to come across anybody who would take her +about and give her a good time. In spite of her gaiety and enjoyment +of life, I judged her to be of a rather cold temperament. She never +seemed to crave for admiration, although, like all women, she liked a +compliment when you paid it to her.” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely you made her handsome presents from time to time,” +persisted Grewgus. Monsieur Calliard was a genial old fellow enough, +but not likely to attract a handsome young woman by his personal +gifts. +</p> + +<p> +But the Frenchman shook his head very decidedly. “Monsieur Grewgus, I +come of thrifty forbears. I like my little flutter now and again, as I +have admitted to you, but I never care to pay too dear for my +weaknesses. What did I give Miss Glenthorne during this visit? Bah! it +is not worth thinking of. A few flowers sent to the hotel, some boxes +of chocolates, once I think half a dozen pairs of gloves. It was not +that which made her dine with me whenever I asked her. It is a bit of +a riddle, I confess. Do you think there is any possibility of your +being mistaken, of your having received wrong information about her? I +am a man of the world, and I could detect no sign of the greedy +adventuress.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus replied that his evidence was too strong to admit of such a +supposition. But still what Calliard had told him imparted a fresh air +of mystery to the affair. +</p> + +<p> +“If blackmail was not her game, she must have had some other object in +view,” said the detective to Lydon when he had finished the story. “I +cannot think those meetings in Rome and Paris were the result of +accident. I should say that by some means she or her friends had +obtained information of Calliard’s movements, and she had followed him +for the purpose of insinuating herself into his good graces. She, no +doubt, read him at a glance, a weak, susceptible man, a bit thrifty +perhaps, and garrulous to a fault.” +</p> + +<p> +“You did not, of course, mention anything of Stormont or Whitehouse to +the Frenchman?” asked Lydon, who had been thinking very deeply as he +listened to the story. +</p> + +<p> +“I gave him no indication that there was anybody else concerned in my +investigations,” was Grewgus’ reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it possible that we have suspected Stormont wrongly, after all?” +said the young man presently, who was profoundly astonished that there +had been no blackmail. “Is it possible that he sent her and the man +Edwards on some peculiar and special business errand, and that he, and +perhaps Whitehouse, knew nothing of the double life she is leading, +this combination of business woman and adventuress?” +</p> + +<p> +But the experienced detective shook his head. “They have both been +closely watched, Mr. Lydon, except in those few particular hours when +they made off. If they were engaged on legitimate business in Paris, +with whom were they doing it? They would have called on people; people +would have called on them. She was never with anybody but Calliard and +Edwards. Edwards had not got even a second string to his bow; he was +never seen with anybody but her.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is your reading of it, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“I incline to the idea they found out they were watched, and gave up +the game in the middle, before the woman could formulate her plans for +fleecing Calliard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any other theory?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only that a further mystery is developing, which we may or may not +discover. By the way, there is something I forgot to tell you. They +left, as you have learned, a day before me. I wired at once to one of +my men in London in code to find out if Zillah Mayhew had returned to +Ashstead Mansions.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the reply?” +</p> + +<p> +“She had, and also the mother. They left Paris as Mrs. and Miss +Glenthorne. They have returned to London as Mrs. and Miss Mayhew.” +</p> + +<p> +It was all very puzzling, very baffling. Lydon owned frankly he could +not see his way through the maze. +</p> + +<p> +After a pause, the detective spoke. “Now the question is, Mr. Lydon, +do you feel disposed to spend any more money?” +</p> + +<p> +“What is your advice?” asked the young man. +</p> + +<p> +“To go on,” answered the detective in a decided voice. “I am convinced +that we are only at the beginning of the mystery.” +</p> + +<p> +“So be it, then. What are the next steps?” +</p> + +<p> +“Simmons only awaits a message from me to take them. In the course of +conversation, Calliard told me he was only staying three days longer +in Paris. He is going on to Brussels, where he does a big business. +Now you have decided, I shall instruct him to follow Calliard. If +there is a further mystery, as I strongly suspect, it is round him +that it will centre. Here in London I shall keep observation upon Miss +Mayhew, and if I can possibly come across him, upon Edwards.” +</p> + +<p> +With that the interview ended. At the end of another week, Jasper +Stormont and his wife came back to the <i>Cecil</i>, bringing Gloria with +them. Lydon had a shrewd suspicion that the banker, who, according to +his daughter’s account, was a man of simple tastes and habits, was not +a little oppressed by the opulence and splendour of Effington. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch14"> +CHAPTER FOURTEEN +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">It</span> was not long before Grewgus’ prophecy that they were only at the +beginning of the mystery came true. What is now about to be narrated +is gleaned from the letters sent to his chief from Brussels by +Simmons. Later on he came to England, and amplified the various +details of the whole affair. +</p> + +<p> +Monsieur Calliard went to Brussels in due course from Paris and took +up his quarters at one of the well-known hotels in that delightful +city. Simmons, obeying his chief’s telegraphed instructions, followed +him, and was always at his heels. +</p> + +<p> +On this visit the gay old Frenchman was apparently devoting himself +whole-heartedly to his business, and not indulging in any little +flutters. His habits were exceedingly regular. He devoted his +mornings, and frequently his afternoons, to visits to his various +customers. The rest of his time he spent at the hotel. No ladies, +young or middle-aged, relieved the monotony of his leisure moments. +</p> + +<p> +Needless to say that Simmons kept open a wary eye for the reappearance +of Zillah Mayhew and the man Edwards. To his surprise neither turned +up. In the meantime Grewgus was keeping a watch on the women at +Ashstead Mansions, and convinced himself, with the aid of the friendly +hall-porter, that she was in London during the whole of the time that +Léon Calliard was in Brussels. Therefore, a certain theory of his was +shattered, when he found she was staying on from day to day. +</p> + +<p> +His idea was that, having discovered she was being shadowed in Paris, +her plans had been suddenly nipped in the bud by that fact, and she +had headed for the shelter of the flat. This did not mean that she had +given up her original designs against the wealthy jeweller, only +postponed them. After a brief interval, during which she judged the +scent would have become cold, she would follow him to Brussels, and +there add him to her no doubt very numerous list of victims. It +followed from this, then, that blackmail had not been her ultimate +object. +</p> + +<p> +But it was obvious that she had some object in sticking so closely to +the Frenchman. And so far as it was possible to reason, the +instructions given by Stormont to Edwards were concerned with the +wealthy jeweller, as neither the man nor the woman had associated with +anybody else during their stay in Paris. Edwards had been seen about +with nobody except the girl who called herself Miss Glenthorne. +</p> + +<p> +For three days Simmons kept a pretty close watch on Calliard. On the +fourth he relaxed his vigilance a little, having made up his mind by +now that nothing more was to be feared from the pair of confederates. +And on this day something unusual happened. Calliard did not return to +the hotel for lunch, and he did not return for dinner. Simmons did not +attach very great importance to this; he might have gone somewhere +else for the day on business. To-morrow he would see him pursuing his +ordinary routine, without a doubt. But when the morrow came, and no +Calliard appeared in his usual haunts, Simmons became alarmed. +</p> + +<p> +That evening he went to the director of the <i>Palace Hotel</i>, with whom +he had a slight acquaintance, and who knew the nature of his +occupation, and inquired for news. He explained that, unknown to +Calliard himself, he was watching his movements in connection with a +certain couple who might have evil designs upon him. +</p> + +<p> +The director, a most voluble person, was quite ready to talk to a man +whom he knew he could trust. +</p> + +<p> +“I have known Monsieur Calliard for years, ever since I have been +connected with the <i>Palace Hotel</i>; his connection with us is a long +one and dates before the time I came here. I suppose you know that he +is a man of considerable wealth, a partner in a very flourishing firm +in Marseilles. He came here about every few months to do business with +the leading jewellers in Brussels, and he carried in that brown bag +his samples, worth some hundreds of thousands of francs. When he had +finished his rounds for the day, it was his invariable custom to +deposit that very valuable bag in our safe.” +</p> + +<p> +Simmons noticed that the director had been speaking all along in the +past tense. He had a very sure premonition of what was coming. +</p> + +<p> +“He went out as usual after breakfast to make his customary morning +calls, taking his bag with him. As I take it, you have been watching +him, probably you know that as well as I do?” +</p> + +<p> +Simmons had to admit that on this particular morning his vigilance had +been relaxed. Having made up his mind that neither of the pair he +suspected was in the vicinity, he was prepared to take it easy till +Monsieur Calliard left Brussels, when he would follow him to his next +stopping place. +</p> + +<p> +The director shrugged his shoulders: “That is most unfortunate, for +then we might know more than we do. He said especially that he would +return to luncheon—as a matter of fact he has lunched and dined here +every day during his visit—but he happened to make particular mention +of it. Luncheon time arrived, and he did not turn up. We didn’t attach +very great importance to the fact. He might have been detained, or +been invited by one of his customers. When dinner-time came and he was +again absent, I began to feel a bit uneasy. Remember he was carrying +in that bag a small fortune.” +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur Calliard is just a little bit—what shall we say—frisky for +a man of his age, is he not?” queried Simmons. +</p> + +<p> +The director smiled: “A wee bit, perhaps. I fancy he is rather +susceptible where the other sex is concerned. On previous occasions he +has sometimes brought here to lunch and dinner some fascinating +members of it. But this time nothing of the sort happened. Not a soul +has been to see him since he first set foot in the hotel.” +</p> + +<p> +Simmons thought there might be a good reason for this. No doubt the +volatile Frenchman had received a rude shock when Grewgus told him the +real character of the young woman to whom he was so hospitable in +Paris. He had resolved to walk more warily for a little time. +</p> + +<p> +“When I came down this morning and found he was still absent, I came +to the conclusion it was time to act. I notified the police at once. I +despatched a long wire to his firm in Marseilles, acquainting them +with the suspicious circumstances. I have had one in reply.” +</p> + +<p> +“And they are, of course, very alarmed?” said Simmons. +</p> + +<p> +“Not so much as you would imagine. It is a very long wire, and in it +they suggest he may have gone to Ostend to see a certain client, and +will return in due course. But I am very doubtful of this. Monsieur +Calliard was a very methodical man, not likely to do anything on the +spur of the moment. If he had intended to pay this visit to Ostend, he +would have had it in his mind for some little time, and notified us of +his intention. Well, the affair is now in the hands of the police.” +</p> + +<p> +It was not till five days later that the dénouement came. It was +evening, and Simmons sat on the terrace of the <i>Café Metropole</i>, +sipping his <i>apéritif</i>. While doing so, he opened the <i>Petit Bleu</i> +and read a long account of the recovery of the body of an elderly, +well-dressed man from the river Meuse, at a bend about a mile behind +the little village of Godime. The doctors declared that it had been in +the river since about the date corresponding with the disappearance of +the wealthy jeweller. +</p> + +<p> +Upon him was found a sum of about three thousand francs, and papers +which conclusively proved that he was a Monsieur Léon Calliard, +member of a well-known firm, and residing in the Rue Lenon at +Marseilles. In his pocket was found a half-obliterated letter written +in indelible pencil, stating his intention of committing suicide in +consequence of an unfortunate love affair. +</p> + +<p> +Simmons hastened round to his friend the director of the hotel, whom +he found acquainted with the news. This gentleman threw scorn upon the +suggestion of suicide. +</p> + +<p> +“Bah, my friend,” he cried excitedly, “Calliard was not that sort of +man; he was a most devout Catholic. A love affair that would drive him +off his head at his age. The idea is preposterous. He was fond of the +society of attractive women, granted, but his was not the sort of +nature capable of a great passion. I should like to see that letter, +Monsieur Simmons. I will wager it is a forgery, put there by the +assassin who killed him in order to get hold of that bag with its +valuable contents.” +</p> + +<p> +And so, later on, it was proved to be the case. When the letter was +shown to some of his intimate friends they unanimously declared it was +a clumsy imitation of Calliard’s handwriting. +</p> + +<p> +“So all along it was robbery and murder, not simply blackmail that was +intended,” said Grewgus, as he and his client sat discussing the whole +facts of the case. “Simmons, of course, committed a blunder in not +following Calliard that particular morning. He might have averted a +tragedy. On the other hand, he might not. This is the work of a very +cunning gang, and so long as Calliard had that bag in his possession, +they were determined to have it. They would not have been satisfied +with a first rebuff or a second. They would have followed him till +they got it. Depend upon it, they had their plans laid with devilish +precision. I don’t suppose we shall ever know how they got him into +their clutches.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is strange that Edwards and the woman should have so suddenly +effaced themselves,” commented Lydon. “If they had a hand in it, you +would think they would have been in at the closing act. Is it +possible, do you think, that this tragedy is simply a coincidence? +That he was done to death by people who had no connection with them?” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus shook his head. “There is no evidence against them, certainly. +Miss Mayhew has been at Ashstead Mansions every day since she came +back from Paris, that I have ascertained. In her case she has a +perfect alibi. Of Edwards I can speak with no positiveness. Simmons +took a snapshot of him in Paris, and I have had two men scouring +London for him with no success, as we are unacquainted with his +haunts. Of course, for all we know to the contrary, he might have been +lurking in the neighbourhood of that little village of Godime. But, +all the same, I believe Miss Mayhew played a big part in this affair.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon looked at the detective inquiringly. “I should like to know in +what way you connect her with the case,” he said. “Of course, in a +thing of this sort, I feel myself utterly helpless, so far as my +reasoning faculties are concerned.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus smiled. “One would hardly expect otherwise, Mr. Lydon. Up to +the present, you can have had no experience of criminal methods, which +I can assure you are very subtle. Robbery was intended from the +beginning, supplemented by murder, if that was absolutely necessary. +In this case I assume the existence of a cleverly organized gang of +international crooks, with spies everywhere. They find out that the +unfortunate Calliard, member of a wealthy firm, is accustomed to make +periodical visits to the various important capitals, carrying with him +in that small bag an immense amount of valuable property. +</p> + +<p> +“They already know a good deal, but they want to know more, be better +versed in details. They set Miss Mayhew on him, one of their cleverest +decoys. No doubt, the beginnings of the plot were hatched at +Trouville, where he first made her acquaintance and, unfortunately for +himself, was attracted by her. Their meeting was not accidental. They +knew he would be there and dispatched her to the same hotel, to find +out all she could, to make herself acquainted with his movements, to +insinuate herself into his confidence. +</p> + +<p> +“She found him very easy to deal with. Calliard no doubt was a good +business man in many ways, or he would not have been entrusted with +such important missions, but for one of his age he struck me as +singularly simple. And he was garrulous and communicative in the +extreme. He blurted out a lot of things to me which he would have +shown wisdom in keeping to himself. He took me on trust, as it were, +on my production of a card stating my name and profession. That card +might easily have been prepared for the purpose. I give this as an +illustration of his simplicity, of his tendency to take things at +their face value. A clever woman would twist him round her little +finger, easily get out of him what she wanted to know. Neither in Rome +nor Trouville did they find things fall out quite in accordance with +their plans. It was not till they got him to Paris that they were able +to set to work in grim earnest, with the result we know.” +</p> + +<p> +“None of the jewellery has been traced, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not that I have heard of,” was the detective’s answer. “They had +their plans cut and dried, you may depend. A few hours after they had +got hold of the stuff you can be sure the valuable stones were out of +their settings and on the way to a safe market.” +</p> + +<p> +After a little while, Lydon spoke. “You have reconstructed the whole +thing very cleverly, and in my own mind I feel you are right. But we +have really no tangible evidence against Stormont, have we?” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing that would convince a jury, I +fear. It is all intensely circumstantial. Still, that letter of his to +Zillah which you intercepted is a very important link. Would you like +me to go to Scotland Yard and put them in possession of all we know, +so that they could join forces with the Paris police?” +</p> + +<p> +But Leonard could not bring himself to consent to this step. The +thought of his beloved Gloria, of her father, a man of the highest +probity and honour, forbade it. Much as he would have rejoiced, for +his dead friend’s sake, that Elise Makris should be punished, he +shrank from bringing disgrace upon Howard Stormont’s innocent +relatives. +</p> + +<p> +It was finally arranged between the two men that Grewgus should still +keep a watch upon the flat in Ashstead Mansions, and note the further +movements of Whitehouse and his supposed niece. It was evident that +this taciturn individual had taken no active part in the Calliard +affair, was not even so much implicated in it as Stormont appeared to +be by that letter to his “clever Zillah.” But Grewgus had a very +strong suspicion that the couple worked very closely together. +</p> + +<p> +They did find something out about Whitehouse a little later on which +added to the general mystery. Hornby Court did not absorb the whole of +his activities. He had a small set of offices near Bedford Row, where +he attended three days a week. His staff consisted of a senior and +junior clerk, and he practised as a solicitor under the name of +Glenthorne. So far they had not been able to discover what sort of a +business it was, or what class of clients patronized him. It certainly +had not the air of a particularly flourishing concern. +</p> + +<p> +From the <i>Cecil Hotel</i>, the Jasper Stormonts, accompanied by Gloria, +soon moved further afield. It had been cordially acquiesced in by +Howard Stormont that during their stay in England they should have +their daughter to themselves. For his own part, Jasper would have +liked to make a tour in Scotland, but he was a very unselfish man, and +he could not bear the idea of parting the two young people. He felt +that he had come too little into the girl’s life to permit him to +think only of himself. He therefore chose Brighton; it was so easy for +Lydon to run down and return by a fast train. +</p> + +<p> +Although a man rather inclined to frugality than extravagance, Leonard +was surprised to find that he had elected to stay at one of the most +expensive hotels in the place. And not content with the public +apartments, he had taken a private sitting-room. He explained matters +to his future son-in-law with his usual kindly smile. +</p> + +<p> +“You must not think, my dear boy, I am trying to rival my spendthrift +brother. The simple truth is this. At home I conduct my affairs in a +very steady and prudent manner. But when I take a holiday, I like to +do things well and have every comfort. A thoroughly economical holiday +is worse than none.” +</p> + +<p> +They intended to stay at Brighton till it was time to return to China, +and Lydon was very pleased with the arrangement. All that he had +learned recently had made Effington exceedingly distasteful to him. As +for Howard Stormont, he could hardly bear to shake hands with him, in +view of his grave suspicions. +</p> + +<p> +It was about three weeks after the interview between himself and +Grewgus that he received an important message from the detective to +come round to his office at the earliest moment, as he had the most +surprising news to communicate. He did not want to blurt them out over +the telephone. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon was round as soon as possible, and found the detective looking +quite excited for a man of his usually calm temperament. +</p> + +<p> +“You will be as surprised as I was, I expect,” he said as soon as his +client was seated. “Our friend Miss Makris, alias Mayhew, alias +Glenthorne, has left Ashstead Mansions. She has taken one of the +smaller houses in Curzon Street, has furnished it splendidly in a few +days, and is living there under the name of Mrs. Edwards with her +husband, the good-looking fellow who was over in Paris when she was +playing her game with poor old Calliard. The mother is not with them. +I should say they are after something very big this time.” +</p> + +<p> +And as Grewgus spoke, there flashed across the young man’s mind what +Jasper Stormont had told him a little while ago. His brother was +looking forward to a great <i>coup</i> which might enable him to give up +business altogether. Was the owner of Effington at the back of this +sudden metamorphosis of the “clever Zillah” into Mrs. Edwards, the +tenant of the house in Curzon Street? +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch15"> +CHAPTER FIFTEEN +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">About</span> a fortnight later, Lydon had the news confirmed from another +quarter. Gloria received a letter from her uncle, in which was the +following paragraph: “I have got some news for you. Zillah Mayhew is +married to a very charming young man, named Edwards. She has been a +very sly little puss about it all. It appears from a somewhat belated +confession to her uncle, my dear old friend John Whitehouse, they have +known each other for some four or five years. They met again during +her recent visit to Paris and were married there. Edwards is a man +possessed of considerable means and moves in good society. They kept +the marriage secret for a little time on account of family reasons +connected with the husband. I am very glad that Zillah has done so +well.” +</p> + +<p> +The letter then proceeded to state other things, some of which Lydon, +to whom his sweetheart read the epistle, had already heard from +Grewgus. The married couple had taken and furnished a house in Curzon +Street, where Zillah proposed to entertain. Zillah had led a retired +life when in England, did not know many people. But her husband had +heaps of friends and acquaintances, and would soon fill the house. +They proposed to give a big reception shortly. Stormont and his sister +would attend it. And Zillah insisted that Gloria, her father and +mother, and her fiancé should be her guests on such a special +occasion. +</p> + +<p> +Innocent Gloria read out all this to her fiancé, and the young man +made certain inward comments as she went along. It was very unlikely +the couple had been married on Zillah’s last visit to Paris. Grewgus +had been watching the woman, Simmons the man till the eve of their +disappearance. If there had been any marriage ceremony, they would +have known of it. If they were husband and wife, they had been married +long ere now, and had lived apart, the better to pursue their +nefarious ends. +</p> + +<p> +Gloria, woman-like, was interested in what appeared to be a real +romance. “I am so glad,” she said enthusiastically. “Zillah is such a +delightful, charming girl, she deserves a good husband. I am surprised +that she has not been married long before this. Uncle Howard speaks +well of him, doesn’t he? And I think he is a very shrewd judge of +character. We must certainly go to that party to see for ourselves. +You agree, I am sure.” +</p> + +<p> +Yes, Lydon certainly agreed. Of course, he could not as yet give a +hint to the unsuspecting girl of his reasons. He would dearly like to +observe the adventuress and Edwards at close quarters. +</p> + +<p> +In London the next day, he found time to run round to Grewgus and +inform him of what Howard Stormont had written. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you will keep your eyes open when you are there,” said the +detective. “I wish you could take me with you, but that, I suppose, is +impossible. I’m a master of disguise, you know; I could go as +something quite different from Grewgus. I might spot something that +would escape you. I am very curious as to the game they have got on; +it must be something big, or else they wouldn’t go to this +considerable expense. Of course, that account of the recent marriage +in Paris is all bunkum.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon would dearly have liked to take the detective with him as an old +friend, to obtain a card for him through Stormont. But he saw it was +too risky. Stormont was a man of diabolical ingenuity and cunning. He +would smell a rat at once. Later on, he might be able to work him into +the Curzon Street ménage. +</p> + +<p> +“By the way, I have never shown you the snapshot of Edwards that +Simmons took in Paris, have I?” asked the detective presently. +</p> + +<p> +He opened a drawer in his writing-table, extracted a photograph and +handed it to his client. Lydon gave a cry of astonishment as he looked +at it. “Well, of all the strange things that have ever happened! This +man is a member of my own club, the Excelsior.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you know about him?” asked Grewgus in an excited voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, almost next to nothing. The Excelsior is a big club, as you +know, and there are dozens of different sets. He mixes rather amongst +the fast lot. I have heard that he is a man of good family, a public +school and Cambridge man, and has considerable private means.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know him to speak to?” asked Grewgus eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“I may have exchanged a dozen words with him since I have belonged to +the club. We both joined it about the same time, three years ago. I +should rather say I knew him to nod to.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think we might classify him as a typical specimen of the +aristocratic crook,” remarked Grewgus. “Well-born, well-educated, +gifted with brains of the wrong sort, who has taken to evil courses +either from natural inclination, or because he dislikes honest work. +Well, Mr. Lydon, this is very interesting and I may say very +fortunate. To think we have been scouring London for him, and not hit +upon the Excelsior Club. You must certainly go to that party, take +diligent notes, and report to me what you have observed.” +</p> + +<p> +In due course, formal cards arrived for the big reception, an +afternoon one from four to seven, to the Jasper Stormonts, Gloria and +Lydon. The banker and his wife sent their excuses. They were a +stay-at-home couple and had no desire to rub shoulders with a lot of +strangers who knew nothing about them and about whom they knew +nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“Except Gloria and yourself, and my brother and sister, there would +not be a soul we knew,” said Gloria’s father. “The hostess is a most +delightful young woman, my daughter tells me; but she will be much too +busy to pay any attention to a couple of old fogies like ourselves. Of +course, Howard will be in his element amongst a crowd; in a lesser +degree, it is possible my sister will also be happy. I and my wife +will remain here while you young people are disporting yourselves in +society.” +</p> + +<p> +Howard Stormont had written to say that Gloria had better spend the +rest of the day with them, driving down to Effington after the +reception was over. If Lydon wished, he could drive down with them, +have dinner and stay the night. But the young man got out of this. He +would meet Gloria in London and take her back to Brighton the day +after instead. He wished to be in Howard Stormont’s company as little +as possible. +</p> + +<p> +The day after he had received the card, he strolled into the club of +which both he and Edwards were members. It was a big establishment, +situated in Piccadilly, and had a large clientèle—stockbrokers, +barristers, a few actors, artists and authors, and several wealthy +business men. Almost the first person he saw was an elderly barrister +named Joyce, a member of the committee, who had recently retired from +practice. This gentleman was a very gregarious person, a great gossip, +and supposed to know more about the private history of his +fellow-members than anybody else in the club. To Mr. Joyce he at once +addressed himself: +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve had a card for a big reception from Mrs. Edwards, the wife of +our member. Although a common name, he is the only Edwards in the +club. I don’t think I owe it to him, for we are hardly on more than +nodding terms, but his wife is a great friend of a man I know, +Stormont, to whose niece I am engaged. Of course, they were bound to +ask my fiancée, and they have very kindly included me.” +</p> + +<p> +The elderly barrister rose to the bait at once. He was quite ready to +talk about Edwards; he was always ready to talk about anybody with +whom he was acquainted. “I have had a card too; going to be a rather +big thing, I am told. About half a dozen of us here have been asked. +Edwards doesn’t mix very freely with the members, rather keeps himself +to himself. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t come here very often, +travels abroad a lot.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I haven’t often met him,” said Lydon in a careless tone. “Who is +he, and what is he? I suppose you know?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Joyce smiled; he was very proud of his general knowledge, which he +acquired by his assiduous attendance at the club. +</p> + +<p> +“I know as much as anybody else, I think, but there doesn’t seem very +much to know about him. He talks very little about himself. He is a +Cambridge man, comes, I believe, of a good old Sussex family, follows +no profession or occupation, has private means.” +</p> + +<p> +The information was decidedly meagre; but it was certain that if this +was all Mr. Joyce knew, nobody knew any more. +</p> + +<p> +“Rather a surprise this marriage, isn’t it?” asked Lydon after a +pause. “I learn from Stormont that they were married a very short time +ago abroad, I think he said in Paris.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite right,” confirmed the barrister. “We knew nothing about it here +till quite lately. But you see that is not to be wondered at. Nobody +of the half-dozen who have received invitations is more than just a +club acquaintance. I suppose they really want to fill the rooms. He +rushed in here about a week ago, told me what you know, that he was +recently married, had taken a house in Curzon Street, and they were +going to hold a reception, sort of house warming. He was going to send +cards to a few of the members. Would I pass on to them what he had +told me, as he might not be in the club again before the party came +off?” +</p> + +<p> +After lunch, Lydon took a taxi down to Craven Street, and imparted to +Grewgus the result of his interview with Joyce, both men agreeing that +what he had learned from that gentleman was practically no more than +what they knew already. +</p> + +<p> +The party was a week hence. Grewgus was still very bent upon going, +but he recognized the impossibility of getting there. +</p> + +<p> +“If I could get a chance, I would go as a waiter,” he said. “Well, +it’s no use thinking about it. You say that you will be leaving about +seven. I’ll be hanging about outside from half-past six—there’s sure +to be the usual staring crowds outside. If you’ve nothing better to +do, look out for me and follow me. When we are well out of view, we +can go into some place and you can tell me anything that you think may +be useful to us.” +</p> + +<p> +On the day appointed, Leonard went to Curzon Street. His afternoon had +been a pretty busy one, and he did not arrive there till close upon +six. The rooms were quite full and it was a little time before he met +his hostess, who had abandoned her position at the door some time ago. +She greeted him cordially, and after a few words with her he passed +on. +</p> + +<p> +Presently he found the Stormont party. The portly Howard was looking +very happy and radiant. “A thorough success,” he whispered to the +young man. “Zillah’s a born hostess and seems immensely admired. Most +of the people here are the husband’s friends; she has been so seldom +in London that she doesn’t know many people yet. But it won’t be long +before she does. I’m delighted it is going off so well. I’m very fond +of Zillah; she’s such a sweet girl.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon thought grimly that the unfortunate Calliard had said the same +thing. He inquired if Mr. Whitehouse was there. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” was the answer. “He was awfully disappointed he could not be +here to witness her triumph. But he was prevented by important +business. I believe he is dining with them after the show.” +</p> + +<p> +The mother was not there. Well, her parents were supposed to be dead +and the uncle was absent. No doubt, Mrs. Edwards had her own good +reasons for not having her own family round her. Casually he said to +Stormont: “I’ve just caught a glimpse of Edwards; he hasn’t seen me +yet. Do you know he’s a member of my club, the Excelsior?” +</p> + +<p> +Was it fancy, or did he detect a rather shifty look in Stormont’s eyes +as he replied to him? “Yes, he told me when I first mentioned your +name. What a small place the world is, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“It came as a surprise to you all, Gloria told me. Did you or her +uncle know anything of Edwards before she married him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never set eyes on him,” came the prompt answer. “Zillah has been a +very sly little puss over it; they seem to have met abroad first. But +he’s a delightful fellow with lots of money. There’s no doubt she has +done wonderfully well for herself. And he knows heaps of good people. +As you know, I don’t go about in London, but this seems to me +decidedly a smart party.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon was intensely disgusted with the hypocrisy of the man, his +effrontery in denying any previous knowledge of the man whom he had +sent to Paris with his instructions to his “clever Zillah.” But he +quite agreed with his last remarks, it certainly was a smart +gathering, with so many beautifully gowned women and immaculately +dressed men. The Excelsior Club, he noticed, had sent up its +contingent to a man. Mr. Joyce was ubiquitous, and seemed to know a +great many of the guests. Leonard was sure that the host had a footing +in one world. He seemed to have an equally sure position in a more +reputable one. +</p> + +<p> +“He knows people in every walk of life—artists, authors, +fashionables,” went on the garrulous Stormont, who seemed in the very +highest of spirits. “He belongs to half a dozen clubs, from the quite +exclusive to the frankly Bohemian.” +</p> + +<p> +Gloria had been annexed by a very dandified young man. Mrs. Barnard +was engaged with an elderly person of the well-preserved type. There +came a sudden hush, a well-known professional was going to sing. Lydon +left his companion and made a tour of the rooms. +</p> + +<p> +When he stopped, he found himself standing next to Edwards, who gave +him a cordial nod and a whispered: “Will speak to you presently.” +</p> + +<p> +The song was finished and his host turned to Lydon. “Very pleased to +see you here. I little thought when we used to meet occasionally at +the club that we should become so closely connected, as it were. +Stormont has known Zillah from a child; he is a sort of adopted uncle. +Delightful fellow, Stormont, so genial, so unaffected.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite,” said Lydon, in a tone the reverse of enthusiastic. Not +greatly relishing the prospect of a prolonged conversation with +Edwards, he was about to move when his host stopped him. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you see that young man talking to my wife, over there by the door? +You know who he is, don’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon looked in the direction indicated. Zillah Edwards was conversing +with a handsome, elegant young fellow of about twenty-five. There was +something distinguished and aristocratic about his appearance, and +Leonard fancied that the face was familiar to him, but he could not +recall where or under what circumstances he had seen it. +</p> + +<p> +“That is Lord Wraysbury, the eldest son of the Earl of Feltham, one of +the oldest families in England,” whispered Edwards in an impressive +voice; and guided by this information, the young man knew why the face +was familiar to him. He had seen the portrait of the young fellow in +some of the society papers. +</p> + +<p> +“He often comes here,” went on the host. “You know all about his +history, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very little,” was the cold answer. “My acquaintance with the great +world is negligible, I am sorry to say.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is quite a romance,” continued the other, who did not seem to have +noticed the coldness of his companion’s manner. “His father, as I +said, can boast of representing one of the oldest families in England, +but he is not rich. The estates are in Suffolk, and I am told don’t +produce much more than twenty thousand a year; that is not much for a +nobleman in his position, you know, and he has a large family.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose not,” assented Lydon, who was not particularly interested +in this good-looking young aristocrat. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, thanks to an extraordinary bit of luck, Wraysbury is very rich, +one of the richest young men in London. He owes it to his aunt, a very +beautiful woman. She married twice. The first match was a fairly good +one, but nothing out of the common. She was left a widow when she was +just nearing thirty. Her second husband was an enormously rich +American who had settled in England, a multi-millionaire. He died soon +too, five years after their marriage. The bulk of his fortune was left +to his children by a first wife; but his widow, Wraysbury’s aunt, got +a comfortable two million left to her to dispose of as she liked. +</p> + +<p> +“She was devoted to Wraysbury. Never having had a child by either of +her husbands, she looked upon him as a son. She died two years ago and +left him every penny, with the exception of a few insignificant +legacies.” +</p> + +<p> +“A very fortunate young man,” commented Lydon, interested in spite of +himself by the romantic story. “And what sort of a chap is he? Is he +taking care of his money, or making ducks and drakes of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“He is a most delightful fellow in himself. With regard to your +question, he spends a lot, of course. He has the handling of a very +big income, but I should say he has a fairly good head upon his +shoulders and knows how to manage his affairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is he your friend, or your wife’s?” asked Lydon bluntly, hastening to +add, “I mean of course in the first instance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Zillah’s,” was the answer. “They knew each other abroad before he +came into his aunt’s money. The acquaintance dropped till quite +lately. We were dining one night at the <i>Ritz</i> and met him in the +lounge as we were going in. She introduced me and of course gave him +an invitation to Curzon Street. He has dined with us twice and called +several times. I like him immensely; he is a dear chap.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon stayed for another half-hour and noticed that Lord Wraysbury was +never for long away from the side of his hostess. He did not appear to +know more than a couple of people in the room and Leonard had a +suspicion that they had been introduced by Zillah. It was a smart +party certainly; but although he knew little of fashionable or +semi-fashionable society, he did not think it was quite up to the +standard of a young man of such aristocratic lineage. +</p> + +<p> +He managed to obtain a few words with Gloria. “Are you enjoying +yourself, my sweetheart?” he whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, in a way, it is rather novel,” she replied. “But I don’t think I +should care for too much of this sort of thing. Zillah has been quite +kind, introduced me and aunt to a lot of people. Uncle Howard is +enjoying himself immensely. I have not seen him look more beaming at +one of his own dinner-parties. But I’m afraid I haven’t his +temperament. I’m not fond of strange crowds.” +</p> + +<p> +Soon the party began to break up; only a few determined stayers were +left behind. Stormont collected his women-folk and they bade adieu to +their host and hostess. Lydon took his departure with them. As he +shook hands with Zillah, he observed that the good-looking Wraysbury +was still in close attendance. +</p> + +<p> +Stormont’s car was waiting. As they went out, Lydon saw Grewgus +standing amidst the small crowd that had gathered to watch the +departing guests, and made a hasty signal to which the detective +answered with a slight movement of his head. +</p> + +<p> +What was the young man’s astonishment to see amongst the waiting crowd +the weather-beaten face of Tom Newcombe, and a hasty glance at him +revealed the fact that, if not actually drunk, he was certainly not +strictly sober. As soon as he caught sight of his “old pal” he rushed +forward and shouted out what he intended to be a welcome, in a husky +voice. +</p> + +<p> +Howard Stormont’s face went white when he saw him. “Get out of the +way, you drunken dog,” he said in a low voice, full of fury. “Never +dare to accost me again when you are in this state.” +</p> + +<p> +The Colonial, no longer shabby-looking, but dressed in very loud +attire which he doubtless considered to be the height of fashion, +slunk away, his face working, and muttering, “Drunken dog! Drunken +dog!” +</p> + +<p> +Stormont pushed the women into the car and it drove off, the occupants +waving a farewell to Leonard as he stood on the kerb. +</p> + +<p> +When he turned round to look for Grewgus, that gentleman had gone. He +saw him a few yards off, stealthily tracking the Colonial. +</p> + +<p> +He knew by this action that the ever-vigilant man had overheard what +had passed and was on a fresh scent. It was no use waiting for him. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch16"> +CHAPTER SIXTEEN +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">It</span> was not long before the quarry came to a halt at a public-house +in a side street off Piccadilly. When he reached this hostelry, his +intense indignation had exercised a remarkably sobering effect upon +him, his gait was quite steady, and when he asked the barmaid for +refreshment his voice had recovered its normal tones. +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus had followed him in. After a little while, Newcombe went and +sat down in front of one of the tables. After a decent interval the +detective followed him and opened up conversation by some remark about +the weather. Mr. Newcombe made a somewhat gloomy response; it was +evident his mind was still full of the epithet which Stormont had +hurled at him as he hurried into the car. +</p> + +<p> +As Grewgus saw that he was not disposed for general conversation, he +thought he would try him on something that would interest him. He +judged him not to be too well blessed with the world’s goods, in spite +of his loud but evidently cheap apparel; he thought, therefore, he +would start on a democratic note. +</p> + +<p> +“Awful lot of money these nobs do waste on themselves. When you walk +down these parts, the luxury that meets you on every hand makes you +fairly sick, it does. Many a poor bloke has got to keep his wife and +family for a week on what they spend on one meal.” +</p> + +<p> +He was a very good actor, and he put on a ripe Cockney accent for the +benefit of his companion. He did not want to be taken for a man of too +superior class, or else he might easily excite suspicion. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Newcombe grunted assent to these propositions, and drained his +tumbler. Grewgus put on a genial smile and did the same. +</p> + +<p> +“They give you precious little stuff for the money in these days,” he +remarked in the same dissatisfied tone. “I feel a bit fed up to-day +with thinking of all these things; I always feel that way when I see +much of this quarter of the town. I’m going to have another; I should +be rather glad if you’d have one with me.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Newcombe hesitated for a second, then accepted. Grewgus had judged +his condition pretty accurately. He had had too much when he stood +outside the house in Curzon Street; the abuse hurled at him by +Stormont, and the indignation it created, had momentarily sobered him. +But another glass or two would stir up the old drink and reduce him to +his previous condition. When he got back to that he would be disposed +to talk. The second tumbler accomplished the desired result. The +detective saw he could now get to work. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve just strolled down from Curzon Street, and it was the sight of a +big party going on at one of the houses that set me thinking. +Motor-cars galore waiting for the beautiful ladies with frocks that +cost a small fortune, men coming out with their expensive suits. It +gave me the hump, it did, so I cut it and dropped into the first +public I could come across.” +</p> + +<p> +Newcombe looked at him with a perfectly unsuspicious eye. “Was you +there too? So was I. Did you happen to see me?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” answered the detective unblushingly, feeling that he was lying +in a good cause. “Rather rum that when you come to think of it, isn’t +it? That we should be looking at the same thing, and then meeting a +few minutes after in this place, I suppose for the same reason, that +we both felt a trifle dry. I say, we’d better have another. I always +feel reckless when I’m a bit fed up.” +</p> + +<p> +The Colonial accepted the hospitality for the second time. Grewgus +went to the counter to get the drinks; he did not wish the Colonial to +entertain any doubts of his own sobriety, which was fast tottering +under the last glass. +</p> + +<p> +When he returned, Mr. Newcombe began to give vent to some of the +thoughts that were harrowing his indignant soul. +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t often I come in these parts—I live King’s Cross way. But it +being a fine day, I thought I’d just take a stroll up here, and have a +look at the nobs. Well, I wandered about a lot, then I sat down in the +Park, and afterwards I got into that street where you were. I forget +what you said the name of it was.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus supplied the necessary information, and the Colonial rambled +on, in a voice that grew thicker as he proceeded. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, presently I come to that house where the show was. I stood +looking at the motor-cars and the dainty ladies stepping into them. +Suddenly I see come out a man I have known for years, with his sister +and niece. He was a pal of mine in Australia when we were both young +men. Many a good turn I done him, once I nursed him back to life +through a bad fever. Well, remembering the good old days, I go up to +him in a cheery sort of way. And what do you think I get in return?” +</p> + +<p> +“Haven’t the slightest idea,” replied the mendacious Grewgus. +</p> + +<p> +“He called me a drunken dog, a drunken dog, and dared me to speak to +him in the street or anywhere else. What do you say to that?” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus shrugged his shoulders and spoke in a withering voice: “A rich +man, of course, got on in the world. Well, I should say it was just +what he would do, like the snob he is. I suppose he wouldn’t chuck you +a shilling if you were starving.” +</p> + +<p> +It was evident, in spite of his resentment, that Newcombe could not +tell an absolute lie. “I won’t say he hasn’t given me a bit, but +there’s a reason for it, a reason for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“A reason for it,” repeated the detective. “I expect a pretty good one +too?” Was he going to get something out of this sot? +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Newcombe went on muttering to himself: “I could make him smart, if +I chose to, the ungrateful dog. He to lord it with his flunkeys and +his fine motor-car while I live on a pittance.” +</p> + +<p> +“You know something about this fine gentleman who calls you a drunken +dog?” insinuated the detective, repeating the offensive epithet with +the view of keeping the man’s resentment at white heat. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps Grewgus had overdone it. Something seemed to stir in the +drink-soddened brain, and told him he had gone too far. The Colonial +seemed to pull himself together. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s neither here nor there,” he said in a surly tone. Then he +harked back in his maudlin state to his original grievance. “A drunken +dog indeed, from him who for years never drew a sober breath! Tell me, +mister, did I look drunk? But I forget, you said you didn’t see me. Am +I drunk now?” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus knew that the moment had gone. He would get nothing out of +this creature now. There was no need for him to dissemble any longer. +“If you ask my candid opinion, I think you have had too much. The last +glass has knocked you over. I am not sure you can stand properly. Have +a try.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Newcombe did as he was told, but the effort was not successful. He +got up for an instant, but relapsed promptly into his seat. Grewgus +found himself confronted with an awkward situation. He did not for a +moment regret his hastily conceived pursuit of Newcombe; he had come +within an ace of accomplishing his object. It was by the merest bad +luck, at the last moment, some sudden flickering of intelligence had +caused the inebriated man to exercise discretion. +</p> + +<p> +All the same, he found himself saddled with a companion, drunk to the +point of incapacity, and unable to look after himself. +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus made up his mind at once; it was necessary to do so, since +Newcombe showed signs of sinking into slumber. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here,” he whispered into the man’s ear as loud as he dared. “If +you don’t want to be locked up for the night, I shall have to get you +home. Tell me quickly where you live.” +</p> + +<p> +In a thick voice, the incapacitated Colonial muttered the name of a +mean street in the King’s Cross district. Grewgus knew the place well, +and, as was his custom, drew a rapid inference. Either Stormont was +allowing him a very small pittance, or else Newcombe was averse to +heavy standing charges as they would curtail his opportunities of +purchasing his beloved alcohol. +</p> + +<p> +A very decent young man had come into the bar, whom the detective +judged, by his appearance, to be of the Good Samaritan sort, disposed +to help in a case of trouble. Propping the almost comatose man well +against the table, he went up to this individual and besought his +assistance. +</p> + +<p> +“My friend has been overcome, been taking too much before I met him, I +expect,” was his explanation. “I want to get him away without fuss, if +I can. If you would kindly call a taxi, and come back here and lend a +helping hand, I am sure I can manage it. I doubt if he can walk very +well, but between us we can manage to shove him along and get him in +the taxi.” +</p> + +<p> +The decent-looking young man responded nobly to the appeal. In a very +short time, Mr. Newcombe, still half asleep and almost deprived of the +powers of motion, was being borne in the direction of King’s Cross. +</p> + +<p> +About half-way on the journey, he made one of those remarkable +recoveries which are frequently to be observed in the devotees of +alcohol. He was still far from sober, but his partial slumber, and the +rather keen fresh air blowing through the open taxi-windows on his +inflamed face, had cleared his faculties to a certain extent. He was +able to appreciate and thank the detective for what he had done. +</p> + +<p> +“The act of a pal, that’s what it is,” he hiccoughed. “If ever your +turn comes and I’m there, I’ll do the same with you. If you had +sneaked out and left me, I should have been run in as safe as eggs.” +His mind suddenly reverted to the events of a short time ago. “By +gosh, if it had been that fellow with the flunkeys and the fine car, +he’d have left me in the lurch. I say, mister, I don’t know your name, +perhaps I was a bit gone; he bawled at me that I was a drunken dog.” +</p> + +<p> +There was something very comical in his almost abject aspect as he put +this question. Grewgus could hardly keep from laughing. +</p> + +<p> +“I should say more than likely, my friend. You strike me as one of +those chaps who can get drunk and sober again three or four times in a +day. We shall be there in a very few minutes. I expect you will find +yourself able to walk without assistance when we get out.” +</p> + +<p> +And so it proved. When the taxi drew up before the shabby-looking +house in one of the meanest streets in the locality, Mr. Newcombe was +able to comport himself with a certain amount of steadiness. He +apologized for not being able to ask his companion up, as he occupied +one apartment at the top of the house, and there was, alas! no +refreshment to offer a guest when he got there. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve sense enough not to keep it in the house,” he said with a +cunning smile. “Having to go out for it does put a bit of a stopper on +me. You see, I know my weakness. But I tell you what—I want to prove +to you that I look upon you as a pal, one of the right sort. If you’ll +make an appointment to meet me to-morrow, not perhaps at the same +place, we’ll have a return match.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus thanked him and hastily explained that he would not be in +London on the morrow, nor for some little time after. Then, having +seen his companion put his key in the door, and enter the +unprepossessing premises, he went on his way. With his usual +methodical habit, he posted in his note-book Mr. Newcombe’s address, +in case he should require it in the future. +</p> + +<p> +Early the next morning he rang up Lydon while the young man was at +breakfast. +</p> + +<p> +“A thousand apologies for running away from you yesterday. But after +that little scene with Stormont, I thought I ought not to let the +chance slip. Got nothing out of it though, will tell you all when I +see you. I want very much to know what you have to report to me. Shall +I come to you, or vice versa?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d rather come to you,” was Lydon’s answer. “We shall be less liable +to interruption in your place.” +</p> + +<p> +The young man went round to him after lunch. Grewgus related how he +had nearly brought the Colonial to the blabbing point, and how the man +had suddenly shrunk back into his shell. On his side Lydon gave a full +account of the reception in Curzon Street, omitting no detail. +</p> + +<p> +“There is no doubt what the game is,” said the detective when his +companion had finished. “They have evidently got this young chap into +their clutches, and they mean to bleed him to the utmost.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think these elaborate preparations, the taking of the house in +Curzon Street, this purchase of expensive furniture, etcetera, are a +part of the plot?” +</p> + +<p> +“Undoubtedly. I have heard a good deal of this young Wraysbury from +one source and another. I should say he’s rather a silly sort of chap, +intoxicated with his good fortune, and an easy pigeon to be plucked. I +am told he has a lot of hangers-on who are thriving on his bounty, +regular parasites and leeches. On the quiet, he goes in for the +theatrical business, has put money in one or two shows, and I need +hardly say lost what he put in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Edwards, who seems immensely proud of the acquaintance, spoke in very +warm terms of him, says he is a delightful fellow in himself, very +generous, but by no means a fool.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus laughed derisively. “Of course, that is just what a man of +that stamp would say of somebody he had designs on, make him out +cleverer than himself. No, I think my version is the true one. I don’t +say that the young man is vicious or anything of that sort, but he is +pleasure-loving, gambles pretty heavily, and of course goes racing.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is evidently very thick with the woman. He was sitting in her +pocket all the afternoon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I understand he has a great <i>penchant</i> for female society, and +that he is far from discriminating in his choice of fair companions. I +believe his parents live in terror that he will one fine day make some +actress or dancer Lady Wraysbury. Probably you don’t know anything +about the Felthams; in my line I get a lot of information about +people. They are a very pious, straight-living couple. The old man is +a pillar of the Established Church, his wife is equally devout. At +their London house in Eaton Place she is surrounded with parsons. His +youthful lordship has certainly not taken after his parents.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I suppose they would be shocked beyond expression if they knew he +was hanging about a married woman?” +</p> + +<p> +“Go off their heads, I should think,” was the detective’s reply. “But +they are not likely to hear of it. They live in a very narrow set, to +whom such doings don’t penetrate. They won’t know unless some scandal +arises suddenly out of it.” +</p> + +<p> +Presently Lydon suggested that, in view of what they knew about Mrs. +Edwards, otherwise Elise Makris, Wraysbury ought to be warned. How +could it be done? +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus looked doubtful. “You see, the difficulty is that we have no +evidence of her having previously blackmailed anybody. Your friend, +Mr. Craig, was very vague on the point, you say. Of course, I don’t +suppose they would dare to take any action if we did such a thing, +wouldn’t court having their past ripped up. But if this young ass is +infatuated—and it looks very like it—he wouldn’t believe much +stronger evidence than it is in our power to produce.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you have no doubt of the character of all these people yourself?” +asked Lydon, who did not perhaps quite realize the habitual caution of +a man who followed Grewgus’ profession. +</p> + +<p> +“In my own mind, certainly not. But what we do know is of such a +purely circumstantial kind that we should have great difficulty in +getting the average person to agree with us. One can feel a thing +without being able to prove it.” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems to me that we have come to a deadlock,” said Lydon in a tone +of disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus reluctantly admitted that it looked like it. He added more +cheerfully that something might turn up at any moment. The French +police were still pursuing their inquiries into the mystery of +Calliard’s death, and they might still be able to connect Edwards, if +not Zillah Mayhew, with that tragedy. Then there would be something to +go on of a tangible nature. +</p> + +<p> +It was some few days after that Grewgus sought another meeting with +his client. Perhaps in their last interview he had sensed a certain +dissatisfaction on Lydon’s part at the slow progress of affairs. +</p> + +<p> +“I have been thinking a good deal over that fellow Newcombe,” he said. +“I have not the slightest doubt he could tell us something about +Stormont that would make a certainty of what now is not more than a +very strong conjecture. I wonder whether you would care to bribe him. +There is no doubt that at the moment he is very incensed with +Stormont; those bitter words, although he has half a notion they were +deserved, will rankle for a long time. Also I doubt if Stormont pays +him much to hold his tongue. Now would be the time to strike while the +iron is hot, so to speak. Of course, the drawback is that you will +have to put down more money, in addition to the expenses you have +already incurred, as it were, for no practical result.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon thought a little. “I would give a great deal to have the thing +settled,” he said presently. “To find out something which would +definitely justify our suspicions, our almost positive suspicions, of +Stormont. As you have pointed out, we cannot prove that Calliard was +done to death at his instigation, but we have little doubt of it in +our own minds. We cannot actually prove that this Curzon Street couple +are out to fleece this simple young Wraysbury, but we are sure of it; +and Stormont, perhaps also Whitehouse, is at the bottom of that. What +sort of a sum do you think would be required?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should say five hundred at once would be a big temptation to a +fellow of that sort.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon rose. “Then set about it at once. I will go to that. If +necessary, a bit more. Anything to get rid of this state of suspense.” +</p> + +<p> +It was five days since Grewgus had escorted Newcombe home to his mean +little lodging. He had received Lydon’s permission to embark on his +new scheme shortly after the luncheon hour, their usual time for +meeting. Directly after his client had left, he went up to King’s +Cross. +</p> + +<p> +The door was opened by a slatternly woman of middle age, whose +appearance was in keeping with the house. She was the landlady. +</p> + +<p> +To his inquiry as to whether Mr. Newcombe was in, she replied in the +voluble and indirect manner of her class. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re the gent as brought him home in a taxi a few days ago, ain’t +you, when he’d had a drop too much? I saw you through the door when he +let himself in, and I never forgets a face. Yes, he’s in right enough, +but nobody can see him. He’s that bad, we don’t know whether he’ll +pull through yet. The doctor ain’t sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter with him?” +</p> + +<p> +“The doctor says the symptoms are those of a man who has been +poisoned, whether by bad food he can’t say.” +</p> + +<p> +“When did the attack commence?” +</p> + +<p> +“Two days after you brought him home. On the next day somebody called +for him, dressed like a toff, a very genial, red-faced man. Said he +was an old friend and he went upstairs. They were in Newcombe’s room +for over an hour, and then they went out together.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know where they went to?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m coming to that in a minute, mister. I didn’t see him again that +day; he came back about ten o’clock and went up to his room. The next +morning he had his breakfast in my kitchen as usual; he always told me +he was poor now, but had seen better days. Said he had been to dine +last evening with an old friend of his who had known him in his +prosperous times, and had been given the best dinner he had ever had +in his life. He didn’t come to tea, and I went upstairs to tell him it +was ready; he was a nice, pleasant feller, very free with his money, +when he had it, and always grateful for any little kindness or +attention. He was sitting huddled up in his chair, and couldn’t speak. +I sent for the doctor at once, for I was sure he had some money. We +put him to bed, and there he’s been ever since. He’s still +unconscious. I and my daughter look after him.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus pulled out his ever-ready note book. “I should like the +address of that doctor, please, in case I want to see him. Your lodger +was once a friend of mine, and I’ve only lately learned he is down on +his luck. I called to-day to propose something for his benefit; I will +come again to-morrow or next day. Many thanks, sorry to have taken up +your time; you must be a busy woman.” +</p> + +<p> +He slipped a pound note into her hand, and went straight to Lydon’s +office in Victoria Street. But he just missed him; Leonard had left to +catch an early train to Brighton. +</p> + +<p> +He called on him early the next morning, and told him what had +happened. The two men looked at each other. There was an inquiry in +Leonard’s glance which Grewgus answered at once. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I surmise what you surmise. The genial, red-faced man was +Stormont, and there is no doubt he is at times an active member of his +organization. You may depend upon it, he is devilish clever, and this +last thing may still remain a matter of conjecture incapable of actual +proof.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused a moment, then added: “But if this poor devil lives, he is +clever enough for the same idea to occur to him. And if it does he +will speak out what he knows about Stormont.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch17"> +CHAPTER SEVENTEEN +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">It</span> was a long time before Newcombe struggled back to convalescence; +during that period Grewgus had several interviews with the doctor who +was attending him, a young, harassed-looking man who had a large but +not particularly remunerative practice in a poor neighbourhood. The +detective came to the conclusion at their first meeting that he was +not a very brilliant member of his profession. He said there were +symptoms of poisoning, certainly, probably ptomaine poisoning. The +landlady had said the patient told her he was dining at some +restaurant the previous evening. Possibly some cheap one where there +was little care exercised in the selection or cooking of food. +Undoubtedly he had partaken of some dish which had produced this +disastrous result. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the day when Grewgus was permitted to go up to the +ill-furnished room where the Colonial lay, a shadow of his former +robust self. He stretched out a wasted hand. “Very good of you to come +and see me, mate. My landlady told me a gent had been inquiring after +me. For the life of me I couldn’t guess who it was. I’ve no friends in +this infernal country. And what made you look me up?” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus played a waiting game, till he could see his way more clearly. +“Well, just blind chance, as it were. I was in this district, on a bit +of business one day, and remembering where you lived, I thought I’d +look you up, to see if you had recovered from the effects of that +rather warm evening we spent together. I was shocked to hear you were +so bad.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve had a close shave, mister; the doctor told me he thought my +number was up. But he says now, if I keep quiet for a few days, I +shall pull through.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused and added grimly, “If I do, I guess it will be a +disappointment to somebody.” +</p> + +<p> +So the same suspicion had crept into his mind. Grewgus proceeded in +the same quiet way: “You dined out with a friend, your landlady told +me. No doubt you partook of some food that poisoned you?” +</p> + +<p> +The man’s calm manner left him. His eyes blazed out in sudden fury. +“And a dog-goned idiot I was, knowing the character of the man I went +with. At my time of life I ought to have had more sense.” +</p> + +<p> +For a little time he kept silence, but his eyes were blazing, his face +was working all the time. When he spoke again, it seemed as if he had, +for the moment, forgotten the other man’s presence, as if he were +muttering his thoughts aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“The dirty dog, the dirty dog to try and do me in for the sake of +saving a few paltry quid! Me that stood by him when he hadn’t got a +pal in the world, me that nursed him when he was sick to death as well +as his own mother would have done. The treacherous swine.” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he seemed to realize the presence of Grewgus, and his mood +underwent a sudden change. The fury in his glance died down, the voice +lost its tone of hatred. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t take any notice of me, mate. I’m weak after this infernal bout +and perhaps a little bit light-headed. I was just rambling, that was +all.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus leaned forward and looked the Colonial straight in the face. +“You are not light-headed, and you are not rambling,” he said in a +firm voice. “You did not partake of any bad food. You have in your +mind the same suspicion which I have, and that is that you were +deliberately poisoned, by some subtle means, by the man, your +pretended friend, who took you out to dinner.” +</p> + +<p> +The man’s jaw dropped. He looked at the detective in a dazed kind of +way. “How did you guess that?” he cried. +</p> + +<p> +It was evident to the keen-witted Grewgus that Newcombe’s feelings +were making deadly war on each other. On the one hand he wanted to +speak, to give full vent to the terrible ideas that were surging in +his mind. On the other hand, he feared the consequence of a too frank +revelation. +</p> + +<p> +He resolved to put his cards on the table. “Now, look here, my friend, +you don’t know me from Adam. I will tell you frankly I am here for a +purpose. I’m not a detective in the usual meaning of the term, +although I was for some years at Scotland Yard. I am no longer a +recognized officer of the law, I am on my own, as a private inquiry +agent. Here is my card. My office is in Craven Street, and my name is +Grewgus.” +</p> + +<p> +The man’s mind took in the situation swiftly. “Ah, I see it now. You +followed me that night from the street where the party was—I forget +the name of it now—you followed me into the pub. You took me home, +not because you were a particularly good sort of a chap as I thought, +but because you wanted to find out where I lived.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re a smart fellow, Newcombe, I can see that quite plainly,” said +the detective, thinking a little flattery might be judicious. “I think +you and I shall get on quite well together presently, when we know +each other better. Now, first of all, I want you to get this +thoroughly into your head, that I am not acting on behalf of the law. +Unless you recognize that, it is not likely we shall go very far. Do +you believe me?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Newcombe hesitated a little before he replied to this straight +question. “Suppose I say I do, just to make things more comfortable +between us,” he said presently. “You are here on behalf of somebody.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite true,” answered Grewgus promptly. “On behalf of private +parties.” +</p> + +<p> +A cunning smile overspread the Colonial’s features. “What is it you +want to find out?” he asked bluntly. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to find out as much as I can about that man you had the +altercation with the other day, Mr. Howard Stormont, the owner of +Effington Hall, and apparently well off. At any rate, he seems to +spend a pretty good amount of money.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Newcombe thought things well over before he spoke again, in a +disjointed sort of way as if he were giving utterance to his own +thoughts. “Private parties you said. Well, I’d wager a bit I can guess +who the private party is—that nice-looking young fellow I met down at +Effington who’s going to marry the pretty niece. He thinks there’s a +bit of mystery about, and he wants to get to the bottom of it.” +</p> + +<p> +It was evidently not much use fencing with this shrewd, hard-headed +Colonial. “I won’t say you’re right, and I won’t say you’re wrong, +Newcombe. Think what you like. Of course, you’ll understand that in my +delicate position I can’t afford to be too frank.” +</p> + +<p> +“Neither can I, in my position,” said the Colonial with a grin. +</p> + +<p> +“Granted. Well, now let me put things as they appear to me. You can +tell me presently whether I am right or wrong. It is evident you know +something about this fellow who appears prosperous enough now. You had +fallen upon bad times, that we know from his own admission.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he has told that, has he?” cried Newcombe, with something of a +snarl in his voice. “He didn’t mind giving me away, did he?” +</p> + +<p> +“In a sense he was forced to; he had to explain your sudden arrival at +Effington. Well, to continue, you had fallen upon bad times. You went +to see your old friend, and no doubt represented to him that it would +be highly inconvenient for him in his present position if you made +certain disclosures about his past. Not being a fool, he saw that.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Newcombe listened to this reconstruction of what had taken place +between himself and the owner of Effington Hall without interruption. +Not wishing his countenance to betray him, he kept his gaze steadily +averted. +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus looked round the ill-furnished room in a disparaging fashion. +“He recognized the fact that he could not allow you to talk, and he +agreed to make you some sort of allowance. Judging by the condition of +this apartment, not a very handsome one.” +</p> + +<p> +The Colonial indulged in a derisive grunt at this allusion to his +surroundings, but he did not break his obstinate silence. +</p> + +<p> +“Small as that allowance is, he begrudges it. Or perhaps it is not the +money he minds so much; what weighs upon his mind is that you are a +standing menace to his safety, the fear that one day, when you’ve had +a drop or two too much, you’ll blurt out the very thing he wants to +hide. He feels he’ll have no real security till you are safely out of +the way. Hence that apparently hospitable action the other day.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus had the satisfaction of seeing a vindictive scowl steal over +the man’s face at this reference. He hoped to appeal not only to the +Colonial’s cupidity but in an equal degree to his thirst for revenge. +</p> + +<p> +“If you ask me, I don’t think your position is a very safe one, my +friend. From what I do know of Stormont, I have reason to believe him +to be possessed of diabolical cunning, and unscrupulous to a degree. +If he has made up his mind to get you out of the way, it is long odds +that, in the end, he will accomplish his designs, either on his own +initiative or with the help of his numerous friends.” +</p> + +<p> +And then Mr. Newcombe spoke: “He’s a cunning devil enough, you’re +right about that. Well, mister private inquiry agent, let’s come to +the point. What is it you want to propose to me? You’ve been a long +time leading up to it. Let’s have it without any more beating about +the bush.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you’ll tell me the secret of Stormont’s past which he is paying +you some paltry pittance to hush up, I’ll pay you down in hard cash +the sum of five hundred pounds.” +</p> + +<p> +“And supposing you got that information—mind you, I haven’t said that +I can give it you—what use are you going to make of it?” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus was a bit puzzled what to answer to this plain and very +natural question. Would Lydon take any steps against Stormont if he +found himself in a position to do so? The young man had carefully kept +Gloria’s name out of the matter, but the shrewd detective had +originally guessed there was a woman in the case. Newcombe’s statement +that Lydon was engaged to Stormont’s niece confirmed that suspicion +absolutely. +</p> + +<p> +No, he felt sure that his client would never lift his hand against the +uncle of the girl he loved, however great his guilt might be. He was +quite safe in making the Colonial’s mind easy on that score. Strange +perversity of human nature that this man, presumably a crook himself, +shrank from giving another crook away, even although he had been +treated so vilely. Or was Newcombe’s hesitation due to a sense of +self-preservation? In giving his old pal away, would he be forced to +implicate himself? +</p> + +<p> +“I understand what is in your mind, but I think you may be quite sure +nothing of the kind will happen. Certain suspicions having arisen, it +is necessary to confirm or remove them.” +</p> + +<p> +The Colonial was evidently thinking very deeply, looking at the matter +from every point of view. “And supposing, mind you, I only say +supposing, that the suspicions were confirmed, I presume the young +fellow would chuck this pretty girl.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sure of the contrary,” answered the detective, speaking quite +warmly; he had taken a great fancy to Lydon and was convinced he would +never act shabbily to a woman. “It is not pleasant to have a criminal +for an uncle, of course, but I understand her father is a man of the +highest probity.” +</p> + +<p> +Again the Colonial put on his thinking cap. “That settles that, then.” +And now he began to relinquish, to some extent, his rather futile +attempts at caution. “And now let’s consider the position as it +affects me. If I give Stormont away, I shall have to make a clean bolt +of it; there’ll be no further help from that quarter. Besides, I +shouldn’t be safe, if he happened to find it out, and it’s a chance +one must reckon with. He wants to get me out of the way as it is.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re quite right, Newcombe. If he ever got a hint, he would be +doubly, trebly anxious to remove you. If we do come to an arrangement, +you’ll have to quit in double-quick time. Now, let us discuss terms. +If you can tell me something definite about this man, as I have said, +there is five hundred pounds waiting for you. You are a man of brains +and resource; with that sum you can start life again. And, in my +candid opinion, the sooner you get out of Stormont’s reach, the better +for your own peace of mind.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not enough,” cried the Colonial promptly. “One can’t do much in +making a fresh start with five hundred. Besides, it’s worth a +thousand.” +</p> + +<p> +But if Newcombe was hard at a bargain, Grewgus was by no means a bad +man of business. He joined issue at once, and for a long time they +fought each other strenuously. A compromise was finally reached at +seven hundred. Grewgus was sure his client would go to this extent, +from what he had said. +</p> + +<p> +But the victory was not quite won yet. Newcombe wanted further time +for reflection. “It’s a very serious step you are asking me to take. +I’ve got to look at it all round. Don’t think I have any consideration +for that dirty dog, Stormont; you wouldn’t expect it, would you? If we +were out in some parts I could name, I’d plug him without the +slightest compunction; he’d deserve it. But I’ve got to think of +myself, to be sure I’m not making a false step.” +</p> + +<p> +From that position he would not budge. He must have a clear day to +think it over. If Grewgus would call at the same time to-morrow, he +would give him his decision. +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus saw his client later in the day, and got an open cheque from +him for the seven hundred pounds which he would cash on the following +morning. It was no use going to the Colonial without the money in his +pocket. His knowledge of human nature told him that Mr. Newcombe, if +he had made up his mind to betray his old pal, would stipulate that +the money should be handed over before he opened his mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“My own impression is that he will bite,” remarked the detective. “It +is perfectly obvious that he knows something damaging, or he would not +have gone so far in the preliminary negotiations. We are buying a pig +in a poke, and what he has to tell may not be worth so much money. +Still, if Stormont suffers himself to be blackmailed to the extent of +three or four pounds a week, it must be something rather bad, if not +so bad as we think.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon agreed. Anyway, if Newcombe took the seven hundred pounds, the +suspense would be ended, they would know something definite. +</p> + +<p> +“The thing I want to assure him positively of is that nothing he tells +me will be used against himself or Stormont. I gave him this assurance +off my own bat, as it were,” said the detective as he took his leave. +“I take it that, whatever we find out, you personally have no +intention of setting the police upon Stormont. In other words, this is +strictly a private inquiry, with which the official police will have +nothing to do?” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon assured him that this was so. He could not yet quite bring +himself to disclose his relations to Gloria. He simply said that the +man belonged to a highly-respectable family which he was determined to +spare so far as it lay in his power. +</p> + +<p> +The French police were still probing the mystery of the death of +Calliard, the jeweller. If they were successful, it was more than +probable that Stormont might be implicated. That contingency could not +be averted. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, I shall mention nothing of that affair to Newcombe,” was +the detective’s reply. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch18"> +CHAPTER EIGHTEEN +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Grewgus</span> did not pay his visit the next day as arranged. In the +morning he received a wire from Newcombe, asking him for a respite of +another twenty-four hours. It was evident the Colonial wanted to think +the matter well over, in other words to consider which course would be +the most beneficial to his own interests. +</p> + +<p> +On the second day the detective presented himself with the seven +hundred pounds in his pocket, the money which he devoutly hoped would +soon pass from his keeping. +</p> + +<p> +Newcombe was much better, had recovered marvellously in that couple of +days. His lean face had filled out; there were no longer about him the +signs of a deadly and wasting illness. He greeted his visitor with a +rough good-humour. Grewgus, a shrewd judge of men, put him down as a +good-tempered fellow in the main, inclined to be quarrelsome and +vindictive when the drink overtook him, rather a man of moods and apt +to act on impulse. +</p> + +<p> +“Come along, mister, glad to see you. The doctor says I have made a +marvellous rally. I’m a different man from what I was when you last +saw me. A lot of fight yet left in old Tom Newcombe.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus paid him handsome compliments on his changed appearance and +laid on a little flattery. “Even now you look as if you could knock +spots off some of the young ones. I should say you would be as fit as +a fiddle in another week or ten days.” +</p> + +<p> +The Colonial laughed his loud, hoarse laugh. “I guess a certain person +will be bitterly disappointed to find his old pal is so tough. Ha ha! +he’s wondering what has become of me. His money has come right enough, +but I haven’t acknowledged it yet. I don’t quite know what I’m going +to do about that. It depends.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus did not answer. He was fairly confident he had won the day, +but he did not wish to spoil matters by hurrying them unduly. He +smiled agreeably and waited for Newcombe to speak again. “Well, +mister, I’ve decided to accept your offer. Have you brought the +‘boodle’? If you haven’t we can adjourn this meeting till to-morrow. +Another day will make no difference to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus drew out a bulky pocket-book and flourished it invitingly in +front of his companion. “I’m a man of my word, Newcombe. I wasn’t, of +course, absolutely sure of what your decision might be, but I brought +the money on the off-chance. You would like me to hand it over to you +at once, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +The man’s eyes had an avaricious gleam at this invitation. The +detective thought it was a long time since he had handled such a sum. +“What do <i>you</i> think?” he said with a chuckle. “The money first, the +information after. You would do the same in my place now, wouldn’t +you, if you had the brains of a mouse?” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus could be as frank as anybody, when there was no necessity to +beat about the bush. “I trust you more than you trust me, Newcombe. +Here is the money. Count it over before you start.” +</p> + +<p> +Newcombe began to count over the money. Suddenly he looked up at his +companion with a rather aggrieved air. “I say, you didn’t answer that +question. Wouldn’t you do the same in my place? It’s a matter of +business, ain’t it, pure and simple?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, my good fellow, I am not complaining. If I were you I +would certainly have the money before I opened my mouth.” +</p> + +<p> +Mollified by this rejoinder, the Colonial stuffed the notes in his +pocket, and again burst into his loud laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, you’re a clever man, mister—a darned sight cleverer than I am, +I expect—and I suppose you haven’t overlooked the fact that I might +take the money and give you practically nothing for it.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus intimated in his suavest manner that such a contingency had +not escaped his intelligence. In some cases he would have taken +greater precautions. He ended with a handsome compliment. “I don’t +know much of you, Newcombe, but I’m pretty sure you’re not one of that +sort.” +</p> + +<p> +The Colonial looked pleased. “You’re right, Mr. Grewgus, I don’t +pretend to be much, but if people play fair and square with me, I play +fair and square with them. I’ve never rounded on a pal yet; I +shouldn’t round on this swine if he hadn’t played the dirty on me. +Why, a week or two ago I would have been cut into little bits before I +would have given Howard Stormont away. That was when I believed him to +be a pal, not a too generous one perhaps, but still a pal. Have you +got me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly,” answered Grewgus smoothly. “You would be a bit of a soft, +I think, if you showed Stormont any quarter.” +</p> + +<p> +The man’s eyes flashed with sudden fury, it was evident his hatred of +his old friend was very intense, and that once having made up his +mind, he rejoiced in getting even with him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, that was a bad evening’s work for him, cleverly as he thought he +had managed it. He was always very keen on the poisoning business, +although mind you, I can’t honestly say that I ever knew of any case +in which he had given it. But he was always fond of reading books on +the subject. He used to laugh when he told me how people in the old +days used to polish off their enemies with a poisoned glove or flower. +He dropped a little drop of something into my drink that night, you +bet—something that this fool of a doctor could not detect anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if you don’t get yourself out of this neighbourhood he’ll try it +again. I shouldn’t say he is the sort of man to be baffled by a first +failure,” commented Grewgus, whose object it was to keep the +Colonial’s indignation at white heat. “And now, Newcombe, let’s get to +business. You’ve counted the money and found it right. It’s for you to +carry out your part of the bargain.” +</p> + +<p> +There was just a touch of shamefacedness in the man’s expression, +hardened character as he was, as he began his story. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not going to say more about myself than I can help, Mr. Grewgus. +You won’t blame me for that, I’m sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not in the least. To be quite frank, I’m not interested in your +career, Newcombe. Stormont’s is the only one that concerns me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Right-o! And if anything comes of it, you’re not going to drag me in. +You promised that at the beginning, didn’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Practically I did, and I repeat that promise now,” confirmed Grewgus. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, mister, I’ll start with the days when I first came across +Howard Stormont, when we both were young men. No need to tell you I +wasn’t a model youth. If I had been, I shouldn’t have picked up with +him, or rather he with me. Upon my word of honour, Mr. Grewgus, I +never had much of a chance. My mother, I know, was a good woman, she +died when I was a kid, I should say of a broken heart. My father was a +ne’er-do-well, drunken, callous, dishonest. Unfortunately I took after +him, but never in my life have I had decent luck. If I went straight +for a bit, misfortune dogged me, and on the crook I didn’t fare much +better.” +</p> + +<p> +Proceeding with his narrative, the Colonial explained that at this +period he was associated with a set of men who were not particular as +to how they got their living, although they could not boast of being +scientific or high-class criminals. The one thing to which they had +definitely made up their minds was that they would not work, except +under the direst compulsion. They preferred to beg, borrow, or, when +necessary, cheat and steal. +</p> + +<p> +Stormont, then quite a young man, a little while before was introduced +to this promising association, and in spite of his youth soon evinced +qualities that marked him out for leadership. It was whispered about +presently that he had got into some trouble at home and that his +relatives had insisted on his going abroad. +</p> + +<p> +“I never knew precisely what the trouble was,” Newcombe explained, +“but from all I could gather from a few things dropped by him when he +had a little—for he was a heavy drinker in those days—it was about +money. His people—he always used to boast that he came of a highly +respectable family—paid his passage out and gave him a few pounds +over. I understood he was not to go back to England till he could +return with a clean bill of health. +</p> + +<p> +“Him and me took a great fancy to each other. I don’t quite know what +he saw in me, for I was rather a dull, plodding sort of chap compared +with most of the men I associated with, who told me I wasn’t quite +clever enough for the game. What I admired in him was his high +spirits, and first and foremost his wonderful cunning and cleverness: +he was always alert and up to every move on the board. He was also +very generous, spent money like water when he had it, and most popular +with his mates. They thought a wonderful lot of his abilities and +prophesied that he would one day become a crook of the first water.” +</p> + +<p> +“I take it, these associates of yours were not in the front rank of +their profession?” interjected Grewgus. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonial shook his head. “Certainly not; with the exception of +Stormont they had neither the nerves nor the brains. A great deal of +card-sharping, plucking raw young pigeons who had just come out, a +little bit of easy swindling here and there, that was as far as they +could go. Stormont was altogether on a higher plane. He had the brain +to invent and elaborate big things.” +</p> + +<p> +“And of course, he joined you in these agreeable pursuits, the +card-sharping, the plucking of young pigeons, even although they did +not give full scope for the exercise of his superior talents.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is so, mister, and in a minute I’m coming to what you want to +know. I take it, you’ve been making a lot of inquiries, but up to the +present you haven’t been able to prove definitely he is the criminal +you believe him to be. That goes without saying. If you could have got +that information yourself, you wouldn’t chuck away seven hundred +pounds on me.” +</p> + +<p> +The Colonial, when he could keep off the drink, was evidently a clear +thinker. With great modesty he had spoken of himself as a dull and +plodding fellow, but Grewgus did not consider him as dull as he +pretended to be. Probably intemperance had stood in his way: prevented +him from being a successful crook and reduced him to his present +position of subsisting on Stormont’s bounty. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, the game wasn’t fast enough for him; the profits out of this +petty kind of roguery were too small for a man of his ambitious nature +and expensive tastes. Three or four times he launched out on things of +his own—things that the others were too timid or too slow-witted to +join in. And the last one brought him to grief.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus leaned forward in an attitude of expectation. At last he was +going to get something definite about the apparently prosperous owner +of Effington Hall. +</p> + +<p> +“It was rather a neat little bit of forgery. He had laid his plans +well too, thought it all out very carefully, almost succeeded in +fixing the guilt upon another chap, a perfectly honest man.” +</p> + +<p> +“As big a scandal as that, eh?” was the detective’s surprised comment. +</p> + +<p> +Newcombe indulged in a sardonic laugh. “Stormont wasn’t the sort of +man to think of anybody but himself. As long as he could swim he +didn’t care who sank. An innocent man sacrificed didn’t weigh heavily +on his conscience. But clever as he was, the police just went one +better. The other fellow’s innocence was proved and the guilt clearly +fastened on the right person. I forgot to tell you that when he began +to launch out on these dangerous <i>coups</i> he changed his name from +Stormont to Manvers. Under the name of Manvers he was convicted and +sentenced to a pretty tidy term of imprisonment. Now, I’ve kept all +the papers describing the trial and evidence. I shan’t give them up, +of course; but if you give me your solemn word of honour to return +them to me, I’ll lend them to you to make copies of.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks very much; I’ll take them away with me when I leave. Does the +name of Stormont occur in them?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, they discovered he had been passing under the two, but they +inclined to the belief that Manvers was the real one, and as Manvers +he was convicted. Of course his old pals knew better.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what became of him after he came out of prison?” +</p> + +<p> +“He went back to England; I expect that sharp dose of imprisonment +sickened him of Australia. He had been clever enough to put away the +swag somewhere; it was quite a nice little sum. I’ve a notion he had a +confederate, although I’m sure it was not one of the old lot, somebody +much cleverer than we could turn out. He came to say good-bye to me +and one or two others who had been his particular pals. He bluffed us +that when he got back to his own country he was going to lead an +honest life. For my part, I never believed it. Howard Stormont was a +crook by instinct and he’d never do a bit of honest work if he could +get money by any other means.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you know of his career between the time he left England and +when you paid him that surprise visit at Effington Hall?” +</p> + +<p> +“Practically nothing,” was the answer. “In the rough and ready life +out there, one soon forgets things, anyway you don’t think continually +of them. I had a lot of bad luck and after many years I worked my way +back to the old country. As I was looking about for any kind of job +that would keep my head above water, I began to think a good deal +about him and wondered what he was doing, if he had struck oil or not. +</p> + +<p> +“By the merest accident I got on his track, saw him coming out of some +city offices unseen by him. A telegraph boy was passing at the time, +and I asked him if he knew anything of the gentleman, slipping into +his hand a shilling which I could ill afford. He seemed to know a good +deal about him. He was a Mr. Howard Stormont—that of course I was +sure of as, with the exception of growing stouter, he had not altered +since the Australian days—that he was engaged in business, and lived +in a fine house in Surrey at a place called Effington. I smartened +myself up as well as I could, for I had very nearly come to the end of +my tether, and went down there. Lord, he was struck all of a heap when +he saw me, so was the flunkey who opened the door. +</p> + +<p> +“He was always a quick-witted fellow, so as soon as he had recovered +from the shock, he made the best of it, and took me into his study, +where we had a long jaw. He told me he had gone in for +finance—perfectly straight business, he swore—but it was terribly +hazardous, and he owned he was living up to the hilt. Knowing his +extravagance of old, I thought it very likely, but he might be +pretending this in order to choke me off, as he could be pretty +certain I hadn’t called upon him merely to inquire after the state of +his health. He was devilish civil all through, of course; he knew I +was acquainted with that nasty little episode, and he didn’t dare to +ride the high horse.” +</p> + +<p> +“And in the end you came to some little financial arrangement?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, naturally. But he made a hard bargain. When he had money, he was +generous in a spasmodic sort of way; he would stand you any amount of +food and drink, but he was never fond of parting with actual cash. The +sort of man that would give you a dinner costing five pounds, and +button up his pockets when you asked him for the loan of a quid. He +said he’d try and find me a good job, and in the meantime he would +allow me four pounds a week.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should say you found it a tight fit,” remarked Grewgus, thinking of +his companion’s fondness for liquid refreshment. +</p> + +<p> +“You never spoke a truer word. But I couldn’t get him higher. He +pretended that he was frightfully hard up, and that any moment he +might have to give up his fine house. Of course, he knew I wasn’t in a +position to bargain.” +</p> + +<p> +A smile of reminiscence stole over the Colonial’s face as he +continued: “I’m afraid I didn’t behave very well on that visit. He had +on a swell dinner-party that night, which of course I didn’t expect to +be present at, I wasn’t dressed for the part. I had a fine dinner by +myself, and after his guests had gone, he came in and chatted with me +for a few minutes, and set a bottle of whisky in front of me before he +left. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d been going very much on the teetotal lately, through lack of the +ready, and when I saw that tempting bottle before me, I went at it +with a vengeance. When I take a drop too much, I get quarrelsome, the +stuff brings the worst of me to the surface. I began to think he +wasn’t treating me too courteously, and I followed him into the +billiard-room to have it out with him. +</p> + +<p> +“He smoothed me down after a bit, and I had some more drink—there was +plenty of it about—and I got from the quarrelsome into the stupid +stage. I made a silly reference to a little prank of ours when we +followed up a young greenhorn with a view to relieving him of some of +his money. Luckily, he stopped me in time; his niece and her young man +were there, but of course it was a silly thing to do. I think he was +afraid of me from that moment, was never sure of what I might let out +when I was in the same condition.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus interrupted the flow of reminiscences relating to that +embarrassing visit to Effington Hall. “Now tell me, please, all that +took place on that day when Stormont took you to the restaurant.” +</p> + +<p> +The Colonial’s face darkened at the allusion. “The scoundrel showed +his usual cunning. You know of that little scene that occurred outside +the house in that street, the name of which I never can remember. Ah, +yes, Curzon Street. You remember how upset I was about it, how very +near I was to giving him away on the evening you came across me. Well, +I suppose Stormont had been thinking it over too, and came to the +conclusion he had gone too far, offended me beyond forgiveness. Well, +the next day, while I was brooding over it, he walks into my room, +with his hand outstretched, and smiling all over his red face. +</p> + +<p> +“ ‘Tom, old man, we’ve been too good friends in the past to quarrel +now,’ he says. ‘Let us forget and forgive, and shake hands on it. I +was so riled when you came up to me in that state, before all the +crowd too, that I lost my head. I’m sorry if I spoke too harshly, but +you must allow it was a bit rough on me. Let us both bury the +hatchet.’ +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think I’m a very vindictive man, except when somebody plays +the real dirty on me,” urged Newcombe in his own defence. “And I was +forced to admit to myself it was a trifle rough on him, as he said. +Well, after a bit, we made it up and agreed to be friends again. He +seemed awfully relieved, and proposed I should go out to dinner with +him, not to one of the swagger places, which he knew I shouldn’t care +for, but to a quiet little restaurant in Soho. +</p> + +<p> +“We went there, and I had a splendid dinner, and as much drink as I +cared to take. He drank plenty too, but his head was always harder +than mine, and he would be sitting up in his chair when I was under +the table. When I got home, I felt a bit muddled, and when I woke in +the morning I knew I had had a warm night. But it wasn’t till the +middle of the day that I began to feel really queer. I heard the +doctor whispering to the landlady, and I caught the word ‘poisoned.’ +When I was able to think things over, I began to tumble to what had +happened. I understood why he had been so devilish civil. I had given +him away in a sense twice. He was afraid of me, and thought there +would be no peace for him till I was out of the way. The dirty dog! +The dirty dog! I must try and not think of it more than I can help. It +makes me see red when I do.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a long silence after this rather furious outburst. Grewgus +broke it with the question: “And have you any ideas as to what he has +been doing all these years in England?” +</p> + +<p> +Newcombe indulged in a rather cunning smile. “That’s not quite in the +contract, is it, mister? I ought to ask a bit more for that, but still +you have played fair and square with me, I don’t mind answering you. +Mark you, I have never been able to get a word out of Stormont; he +swears through thick and thin he’s on the square. But I’ve done a +little spying on my own account, and I’ve come to the conclusion he’s +after the same old game, but much bigger game. There’s no legitimate +business done in that tinpot office in the city. There’s nobody there +but himself and a man named Whitehouse, a solemn-looking sort of cove +who puts in an appearance about three or four times a week. Have you +come across Whitehouse?” +</p> + +<p> +The detective nodded. “Yes, I know a little about him, not very much. +A very old friend of Stormont’s, according to Stormont’s account.” +</p> + +<p> +He did not tell him that the man carried on a solicitor’s business +also, under the name of Glenthorne. It was a fixed policy with him to +obtain confidences, not to make them. +</p> + +<p> +“And I am pretty sure he <i>is</i> a very old friend,” observed the +Colonial. “The first time I spotted him coming out of that office in +the City—I had placed myself where he wasn’t likely to see me—his +face seemed familiar. There was a young chap, not one of ours, whom +I’ve seen several times with Stormont in the old Australian days. He +wasn’t known to any of our lot, and Stormont never said much about +him, never mentioned his name, but I always had a notion they were in +some jobs together. When Stormont went to quod under the name of +Manvers, this chap disappeared altogether. Now, I’m not prepared to +swear to it, but I’ve got more than a notion that this fellow—he was +a young man then—and Whitehouse are one and the same person.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus left presently, very satisfied with his day’s work, taking +with him the papers which contained a full account of the trial and +conviction of Manvers, otherwise Stormont. The next day he had a long +interview with Lydon. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I don’t begrudge the money,” said the young man, after +listening to what had passed between the two men. “We have now proved +absolutely that the man is a criminal, and a pretty desperate one at +that.” +</p> + +<p> +The thing that was worrying him was this—had things now come to such +a pass that he ought to pass on the information he had acquired to +Jasper Stormont? Was it right that Gloria should ever return to her +uncle’s custody? +</p> + +<p> +Without mentioning his exact relations with the girl, relations which +Grewgus already knew of from Newcombe, he put this question. +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s wait a bit, something else of a confirmatory nature may turn +up,” answered the detective. “You still want me to watch the little +game going on at Curzon Street. Something may come to light there.” +</p> + +<p> +And so it was left. Lydon would not approach Jasper Stormont just yet. +There was still some time before he would return to China, and until +then Gloria was safe from further association with her criminal uncle. +</p> + +<p> +A week later there came to Grewgus a telephone call from the offices +of Messrs. Shelford and Taylor, the solicitors. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that you, Grewgus? Good morning.” It was Mr. Shelford speaking. “I +am sending a client of mine, Lord Wraysbury, round to confer with you. +A very serious business, I fear. He will explain it all to you. +Divorce proceedings are threatened, but I think blackmail is the real +object. You might know something or find out something about the +people. Will twelve o’clock suit you?” +</p> + +<p> +At the mention of Wraysbury’s name, Grewgus had a premonition of what +was in the air. +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly, Mr. Shelford, I will be in,” he said. “What are the names +of the parties?” +</p> + +<p> +The reply was what he expected. “A young married couple of the name of +Edwards. They live in Curzon Street.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch19"> +CHAPTER NINETEEN +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">There</span> was a decided feeling of elation in Grewgus as he waited the +advent of Lord Wraysbury. The loose strands were being gathered +together by this unexpected visit. +</p> + +<p> +He formed a rapid impression of the handsome young man as they +exchanged a few conventional words of greeting. Rather impulsive, +generous, easy-going, not burdened with any great excess of mentality, +likely to be easily exploited by designing persons, trusting and +unsuspicious. +</p> + +<p> +The young nobleman was perfectly straightforward as to the object of +his visit, and made no attempt to beat about the bush. +</p> + +<p> +“The plain truth, Mr. Grewgus, is that I have made a fool of myself,” +he told him. “Shelford, whose firm has acted for us for years, since +my grandfather’s time, says there is no doubt it is a blackmailing +case, and advised me to come here and tell you the whole story from +the beginning to the very unpleasant end.” +</p> + +<p> +“That will certainly be the best plan, Lord Wraysbury; Mr. Shelford +told me as much over the ’phone. When I have learned all the details, +it will be possible for me to tell you if I can help you.” +</p> + +<p> +The young nobleman, in his pleasant, well-bred voice, proceeded to +unfold the history of the relations with Mrs. Edwards—perfectly +innocent relations he urged with a warmth that was undoubtedly +genuine, which had led to the present trouble. +</p> + +<p> +A couple of years ago he had met at Monte Carlo a Mrs. and Miss +Glenthorne, mother and daughter. Miss Glenthorne was a very charming +and attractive girl; the mother seemed somewhat of a nonentity and +kept herself in the background, giving pride of place to her clever +and particularly fascinating offspring. +</p> + +<p> +At this point Grewgus interrupted his client. +</p> + +<p> +“One moment, please. Is this Mrs. Glenthorne a stoutish woman, with a +Jewish type of countenance?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I should certainly say there was more than a touch of the chosen +race about her,” was the reply. “You know her, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can hardly say as much as that, Lord Wraysbury. I have seen her +once or twice, but I have never spoken to her. The point of importance +so far as you are concerned is that I know something of her, also +something of the daughter. Tell me, does not the young lady wear on +every possible occasion a pendant of a very peculiar design, a big +sapphire set in an unusual manner?” +</p> + +<p> +Again the answer was in the affirmative. The young man was naturally +greatly surprised at the detective’s display of knowledge. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems I’ve come to the right place,” he remarked with an almost +boyish glee. “I infer from your manner that what you know about them +is not anything to their credit.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus smiled with his somewhat enigmatic smile. “I think I would +rather wait till the end of your story before I say anything, if you +don’t mind. I shall interrupt you as little as possible, and when I do +it will only be for the purpose of clearing up some point that +suddenly suggests itself.” +</p> + +<p> +The young nobleman proceeded with his story. The two women were +staying at one of the less expensive hotels in the place; he gathered +that the mother was a widow, and had been left an income that was +comfortable, but not large, that enabled her and her daughter to enjoy +life in a moderate and modest way. He first made their acquaintance at +the tables, where the young woman occasionally risked a few francs. +The mother never played. +</p> + +<p> +Wraysbury made no secret of the fact that the girl interested him very +considerably; she was clever, bright, amusing, and also beautiful. He +was never at any moment seriously in love with her. The fact that she +was a mere casual acquaintance, of whose antecedents he knew nothing, +forbade any such happening. But in the free and easy atmosphere of +Monte Carlo the acquaintance ripened considerably. Possibly onlookers +might have considered it an obvious flirtation on both sides. All the +time he was perfectly heart-whole, and he felt pretty certain that the +young woman was in the same condition. +</p> + +<p> +He took her to dinner on a few occasions, and every time the mother +was present. He bought Miss Glenthorne flowers and chocolates, nothing +of a more expensive nature, and no letters, not even the briefest +note, had ever passed between them. There had never been the slightest +attempt on his part at love-making. +</p> + +<p> +His reasons for this attitude were perfectly honourable ones, as he +explained to the detective. Everybody knew that he had come into +possession of a considerable fortune, and that he was a more than +usually eligible person from a matrimonial point of view. He was too +modest to flatter himself that he had any special attractions for +women, but his money was bound to have. Miss Glenthorne appeared to +him then to be a well-conducted, modest girl, but no doubt, like the +majority of women, she was anxious to settle herself well in life. +Under such circumstances, it would have been conduct little short of +dastardly if he had led her to entertain false hopes of becoming Lady +Wraysbury. +</p> + +<p> +“It was just a most agreeable acquaintance, nothing more,” concluded +the young man as he finished this portion of his story. +</p> + +<p> +In due course Wraysbury left Monte Carlo, and said good-bye to the two +women. There was nothing of a sentimental nature in their parting, no +reference to further meetings in the future. He learned that they did +not visit Monte Carlo frequently, and they very seldom came to +England. He thought it extremely improbable that he would ever come +across the couple again. In due course the memory of the dark, +handsome girl faded away from his active recollections. +</p> + +<p> +Then one day, as Grewgus already had learned from Lydon, he met the +young woman at the <i>Ritz</i>, after this considerable period. She was +accompanied by a smart-looking man, whom she introduced as her husband +by the fairly common name of Edwards. She pressed him warmly to call +at their house in Curzon Street, an invitation which was heartily +seconded by the husband. +</p> + +<p> +“You knew nothing, of course, of this man Edwards?” queried Grewgus. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing at all. We had a rather long chat, in which he did a good +deal of the talking, and he seemed to know his way about. He spoke of +attending Ascot and Goodwood and Henley; said he had seen me at all +these places. I had certainly not seen him, should not have known him +if I had,” was Wraysbury’s answer. +</p> + +<p> +“I take it, he was not at all in your world?” +</p> + +<p> +“Most certainly not, but my impression of him was that he was a very +pleasant and gentlemanly fellow. Well, when we parted, I certainly +said that I would call; I could not very well hurt their feelings by a +positive refusal. But really I had no intention of going. As a single +girl, Miss Glenthorne was a most pleasant casual acquaintance, but I +did not particularly wish to mix myself up with the Curzon Street +ménage.” +</p> + +<p> +“And, later on, I suppose you changed your mind?” +</p> + +<p> +A slight wave of colour swept over the young man’s face at the +question. “Unfortunately, as it turned out, I did. I’m afraid I’m +rather a vacillating sort of chap, making good resolutions one minute +and breaking them the next. I don’t quite know what led me to break +them in this case. I think principally a silly sort of curiosity to +know how she would comport herself in her new rôle of married woman. +I was, to a certain extent, interested in her, but by no means unduly +fascinated. And perhaps, Mr. Grewgus, you may not believe me when I +say it, but I am not a libertine, and have no desire to run after +other men’s wives.” +</p> + +<p> +Certainly, Lord Wraysbury gave the detective the impression of being a +quite honourable and clean-living young fellow. But possibly the +seductive Zillah had exercised over him a fascination which he would +not admit to himself. +</p> + +<p> +So he made his first call in Curzon Street. Edwards happened to be at +home, and laid himself out to be especially agreeable to the visitor. +The wife was charming, too, but she seemed a little pensive and +<i>distraite</i>, as if she had something on her mind. Lord Wraysbury noted +that the married couple did not seem to address much of the +conversation to each other. He left the house with a distinct +impression that the pair had had a recent quarrel, or that there was +just a little rift within the lute in their married life. +</p> + +<p> +He left in due course, but not before he had accepted an invitation to +dine informally with them a couple of days later. He had done his best +to get out of it, but Edwards, to whom he had rather taken a fancy, +had been so insistent that his resistance was overborne. And here +again curiosity played a large part in his decision. He could easily +have thrown them over, but he wanted to test his suspicions, to see if +all was right between this very charming woman and her equally +charming husband. +</p> + +<p> +But he had not so far the least idea of the game that was being +played. Everything seemed square and above-board. There was evidently +plenty of money about; the house was run on a liberal scale. Edwards +himself was a most companionable and gentlemanly fellow. He was not +quite sure there might not be some ulterior motive in this extreme +friendliness, this insistent hospitality. But he fancied it might be a +social one. Probably they were ambitious, and wanted to climb in the +world. If they made a friend of him he might be disposed to help them +in their designs. +</p> + +<p> +He went to dinner. “Quite an informal affair,” he explained to +Grewgus. “There was only one other guest, a very breezy, red-faced +man, just a trifle vulgar. His name was Stormont, and Mrs. Edwards +addressed him as uncle. I gathered he had known her from a child and +was excessively fond of her, but he was no actual relation. My +original suspicions were rather confirmed; there seemed a certain +coldness between husband and wife, veiled under the appearance of +great politeness. I couldn’t understand it. Mrs. Edwards’ conduct as a +young wife seemed to me to be quite perfect. I could not help thinking +it must be his fault.” +</p> + +<p> +He went again very shortly to a second dinner. As on the previous +occasion, there was only one other guest. This time it was her real +uncle, a man named Glenthorne, a rather gloomy, taciturn fellow, whom +he judged to be altogether of a superior class to Stormont. But of the +two he preferred the adopted uncle. +</p> + +<p> +He went to Curzon Street three or four times after that, once to the +big party which the pair had given as a sort of house-warming. All the +time, from various signs and symptoms, his conviction grew that Mrs. +Edwards’ life was not a happy one, in spite of her efforts to mask the +fact under an assumption of cheerfulness and high spirits. +</p> + +<p> +The climax was quickly reached. On a certain day Wraysbury received a +note from her, asking if he would call that evening after eight +o’clock. She could not ask him to dinner for reasons she would explain +when she saw him. She was about to take a very important step, and, +presuming on their old acquaintance, she would like to consult him as +to the prudence of it. If he were engaged that evening, would he make +it the next, or the next after that? +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, now I come to think of it, there was something suspicious +in that note,” said the young nobleman. “I ought to have told her to +write to me what she wanted to consult me about, and I would preserve +absolute silence and destroy the letter; but I’m foolishly +unsuspicious, and I went, being disengaged that night. +</p> + +<p> +“To my great surprise, the door was opened by Mrs. Edwards herself. +She appeared in a state of great agitation; I thought at the time she +had been crying. +</p> + +<p> +“ ‘Oh, Lord Wraysbury, I am in the greatest trouble,’ she said in a +distressed voice. ‘Come up to the drawing-room for just a few minutes, +so that I can tell you about it. There is no danger. My husband is in +the country and won’t be back for a week. I have sent the servants out +to the theatre, so that we might be alone. That is why I couldn’t ask +you to dinner.’ ” +</p> + +<p> +Wraysbury did not quite like the look of things, the absence of both +husband and servants, but he was still unsuspicious. The woman played +her part so well that he attributed her rather foolish act to her +acute distress of mind. He was quite sure it was connected with her +husband, and that his suspicions of the unhappiness of their married +life were going to be confirmed by her revelations. +</p> + +<p> +He went up to the drawing-room with her, resolving to get out of the +embarrassing situation as soon as he could, and she at once burst +forth into an impassioned account of her wrongs and sufferings. +</p> + +<p> +According to her account, Edwards, so genial and gentlemanly in public +life, was a bully and a brute. On many occasions she had suffered +personal violence at his hands. She rolled up her sleeve and showed a +shapely arm on which appeared a big bruise which had been inflicted a +couple of days ago. She had no positive evidence of infidelity, but +she had grave suspicions of his relations with other women. On +Wraysbury remarking that it was very early in their married life for +such a thing to occur, she made a confession. +</p> + +<p> +“I must tell you a little secret. We have been married for some time; +it was kept quiet for certain reasons of his own. The truth is, Lord +Wraysbury, he is tired of me. I feel I can stand it no longer. I have +made up my mind to leave him. I’m sure you can’t blame me.” +</p> + +<p> +This was evidently the subject on which she had wanted his advice, and +still unsuspicious, the young man answered her question. +</p> + +<p> +“But after all, Mrs. Edwards, I am not the person to whom you should +come for advice,” he had told her. “You are not without friends, who +would not feel the responsibility as I should. There is your mother, +your uncle, this man Stormont, who has the same regard for you that he +would have for his own niece. Have you spoken to them, or if you have +not, would it not be wise to do so, before taking such a serious +step?” +</p> + +<p> +She had answered him with a profusion of tears that her mother was a +woman of weak character, who would make any sacrifice for the sake of +peace. She would advise her to bear her burden with as much fortitude +as she could. Both Glenthorne and Stormont would oppose her. They were +very worldly men; they would point out to her the folly of forfeiting +the advantages which her position as the wife of a rich man gave her; +they would remind her of the equivocal status of an unattached woman +who was neither maid, wife nor widow. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly she burst into a fit of passionate weeping, drew her chair +close to his and laid her hand upon his arm. “Oh, please befriend me,” +she wailed. “The others will give me advice that will suit themselves. +Be my friend. Tell me what to do.” +</p> + +<p> +And at this moment, the most compromising one in their interview, the +door opened, and Edwards walked into the room. Not the smiling, genial +man he had known up to the present, but another person altogether, his +eyes glaring, his face contorted with fury. He thundered at the +weeping woman to go to her room and leave him alone to deal with her +lover. +</p> + +<p> +He turned to the discomfited young nobleman and spoke with an angry +snarl in his voice when she had obeyed his order. +</p> + +<p> +“And what have you to say, my lord, in explanation of this vile +outrage upon an unsuspecting man?” +</p> + +<p> +Wraysbury made the best defence he could, a perfectly truthful one. He +had come there in answer to a note from his wife, asking him to call +upon her in reference to a subject on which she wanted advice. +</p> + +<p> +Edwards listened in stony silence. His fury had died down, but his +voice had an inflection of cutting sarcasm when he replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Do you believe such a story would take in a child? You must think me +a simpleton to credit it. I had not intended to return for another +week, but the sudden illness of a friend caused me to change my +plans,” he said. “I came home, as I imagined, to the society of a +faithful wife. After I had put my key into the door, I noticed an +unnatural stillness in the house. I go down into the lower regions; +there is not a servant left in the place—they have been got out of +the way by some cunning means. I go up the stairs to the drawing-room. +As I ascend I hear the sound of voices—presently that of a woman +sobbing. I open the door and see her with her hand upon your arm. What +conclusion am I to draw from that? You have stolen her in my absence, +and the servants have been got out of the way. You can show me twenty +letters; they are a part of the game to try and avert suspicion in the +remote event of discovery.” +</p> + +<p> +Wraysbury was nonplussed. To any husband the situation might have +borne the interpretation he put upon it. +</p> + +<p> +Edwards spoke again in a peremptory voice. “Leave this house, Lord +Wraysbury, at once; your presence has polluted it too long. But don’t +think for a moment that, because you occupy a high position in the +world, and I am in your eyes a mere nobody, that you are going to go +scot-free. Neither shall this worthless woman whom you have dazzled +with your fine manners and your great fortune. Before long you will +hear from my solicitors.” +</p> + +<p> +Wraysbury knew that argument was useless. He left Curzon Street +feeling bitterly humiliated. +</p> + +<p> +And as he walked along there dawned upon him the conviction that this +was no unrehearsed scene to which he had been subjected, that there +had been a cunning plot between husband and wife to entrap him. The +woman’s tears were simulated; her story of ill-treatment was a myth. +That bruise she showed him had been purposely made to lend colour to +her story. +</p> + +<p> +Two days later a letter arrived from a firm of solicitors, stating +that they were instructed by their client Mr. Edwards to bring an +action for divorce, and requesting the name of a firm who would act +for him in the matter. +</p> + +<p> +He made an appointment with Mr. Shelford, but before the time arrived +for him to keep it, he had a visit from Glenthorne, whose usually +grave face looked graver than ever when he met Wraysbury. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch20"> +CHAPTER TWENTY +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">A very</span> terrible affair, Lord Wraysbury,” were his first remarks. +“Very terrible for all parties concerned. Zillah has been to me; she +is distracted. They had an awful scene after you went, and the same +evening Edwards left the house. He raved that he would not spend +another night under the same roof with her. Much as I deplore her +conduct, I could not help pitying her.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Glenthorne seemed to make no secret of his belief in the guilt of +the parties. “Of course, she swore to me that her husband had no +ground for his suspicions, that unfortunately appearances were against +her, that she was perfectly innocent. Well, any woman in her position +would naturally say the same thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Edwards has simply told the truth,” answered Wraysbury, speaking +with the warmth he felt. “She is innocent, and so am I.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lord Wraysbury, you will understand that I should espouse my niece’s +cause if I felt I had a leg to stand upon,” said the usually taciturn +man. “In that case, I would go to her husband and force him to hear +reason. But how can I, in the face of such strong circumstantial +evidence? How would it appear to you, if I told you the same story of +somebody else? Her husband away, as she was quite sure, the servants +packed off to the theatre, she alone in the house! What would a jury +say?” +</p> + +<p> +It was on the tip of the young man’s tongue to answer that he was +convinced that it was an elaborate plot, engineered by one or both and +carried out with scrupulous regard to detail. But he could not say +this very well to the woman’s uncle, at any rate till he had received +capable advice. He took refuge in silence, till suddenly what he +considered a bright idea struck him. It was his general rule to +destroy all correspondence that he considered of little importance, +and at the time he had certainly classed Mrs. Edwards’ letter under +that category. But by the merest accident he had preserved it, and he +showed it to his visitor with the observation, “If that doesn’t prove +to you my visit was an innocent one, nothing will.” +</p> + +<p> +The grave-faced man read it with the closest attention, and in due +course handed it back. “This cuts both ways, my lord. You probably are +not possessed of what we call the legal mind. I am, being in the +profession of the law myself, I am a solicitor. If I were acting as +your counsel, I should urge this as an almost convincing proof of your +innocence. But how would the counsel on the other side argue? He would +say that letter was written with a purpose, as the result of an +agreement between both parties, the purpose being to avert suspicion +if, by an unforeseen accident, you were discovered together. He would +also say that if the visit were a perfectly innocent one, there would +be no necessity to get the servants out of the way. Mind you, I am +endeavouring to show you what would present itself to the legal mind. +It would give me the greatest pleasure to prove Edwards in the wrong, +but I fear that letter won’t help me.” +</p> + +<p> +It might be a mere coincidence, but he was using just the same +argument that the husband had employed. Having once allowed the +suspicious side of his nature to develop itself, Wraysbury suspected +this grave-faced man. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the object of this visit, Mr. Glenthorne?” he asked sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“My deep concern for my niece’s welfare,” was the reply. “It is an +awful thing to contemplate a beautiful young woman’s career being +blasted almost before it has begun, as it must be if this affair comes +into court.” +</p> + +<p> +“Had you not better show that letter to Edwards, and point out to him +the consequences of the step he is taking?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Glenthorne spoke, Wraysbury thought, in a less assured tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Unfortunately Edwards is a very obstinate man, a very vindictive one. +The only thing one could appeal to, perhaps, would be his cupidity. He +is very fond of money for its own sake, not because he hasn’t plenty +of his own.” +</p> + +<p> +Wraysbury repressed a smile. Sharpened by his experience of recent +events, he divined that this solemn-faced, not very prepossessing +person had come as an emissary. Realizing the delicacy of his mission, +he experienced some embarrassment in coming to the point. He was now +evidently on the road to it. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you speak a little more plainly, sir? I am not a very subtle +person myself. Will you tell me what is in your mind?” +</p> + +<p> +And Glenthorne told him. “If this matter comes into court, Lord +Wraysbury, it will not only ruin my niece for life, it will be a very +serious thing for you, it will damage you greatly, and cause terrible +grief to your most worthy parents. I think it is worth a considerable +sacrifice, even from your own point of view, to prevent it reaching +that stage.” +</p> + +<p> +The man was showing his hand very plainly now. Wraysbury, with a face +as grave as his own, led him on. “In plain English, you suggest this +injured husband, as he pretends to be, can be bought off?” +</p> + +<p> +Glenthorne lowered his voice. “Between ourselves, my lord, I believe +it might be possible. As I have told you, he is a very greedy man; I +believe greed to be the predominant feature in his character. He will, +of course, go for heavy damages, and, with your well-known wealth, he +is likely to obtain them. I think it possible that, if you anticipated +those damages, as it were, made him a firm offer, he might withdraw +from the action. Of course, I cannot speak positively, but I think it +would be worth trying.” +</p> + +<p> +“I could say nothing on that point until I had consulted with my own +solicitors, Shelford & Taylor. You will understand that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite,” agreed Glenthorne. “Shelford & Taylor, a most respectable +firm, their reputation is second to none. But, although I have the +highest respect for my profession, may I suggest that, in certain +cases, lawyers are not always the best judges? I think in the present +instance the advice of a man of the world would be more helpful to +you. Of course, for all I know to the contrary, this firm may be men +of the world as well as solicitors. In that case I have very little +doubt as to how they would advise you.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think they would advise me to pay hush-money to this person. And +do you happen to know at what price he values his fancied wrongs?” +asked Wraysbury in a sarcastic tone. The reply confirmed his +conviction that Glenthorne was in the plot as well, and had come for +the purpose of sounding him. +</p> + +<p> +“I can give you some indication, I think. When my niece told me the +painful story, I felt it incumbent on me to do something, to use my +best endeavours to avert the impending catastrophe. Edwards is staying +at the <i>Cecil</i>, that was the address he sent to me the day after he +had left Curzon Street. I did not call upon him at once; I thought it +wiser to give him time for his anger to cool down. I used all the +arguments I could think of to dissuade him from the drastic course he +had resolved upon. I met with a very stubborn resistance, as I +expected. But my impression when I left was that he would abandon the +idea of a divorce, if a sufficient sum were offered him. In that case +he would never live with his wife again, but settle upon her a quite +decent income.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what is his idea of a sufficient sum?” queried Wraysbury. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry to say a very high one. For my own part, I thought an +amount round about fifty thousand would meet the case. He laughed at +me, and said he wouldn’t move for twice that. If two hundred thousand +were offered, he would probably consider it, nothing less.” +</p> + +<p> +At this point in the interview, Wraysbury rose, controlling his +indignation with a great effort. “In an hour I am going to see +Shelford, and shall tell him what has passed between us.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Glenthorne took the hint and prepared to depart. “If the suit goes +on, I shall act for my niece, and all communications as regards +Edwards and yourself will be conducted by your own firms. But if you +entertain the idea of the course I have suggested, it might be as well +to deal through me. Edwards is a touchy fellow, and requires a good +deal of handling. Here is my card.” +</p> + +<p> +Wraysbury afterwards saw Shelford. When the whole details were +explained to him, including the tentative suggestion of Glenthorne, +whose name as a practising solicitor was unknown to him, he at once +agreed that it was a put-up job, out of which this shady practitioner +was to have his bit. They talked for a long time, and then the idea of +Grewgus occurred to Shelford. These people most probably belonged to +the underworld of which the detective had a considerable knowledge. He +advised him to see Grewgus at once, and fixed up the appointment. +</p> + +<p> +“So now you have the whole story,” said the unfortunate young nobleman +when he came to the end of it. “Two alternatives face me, and only +two; either I must pay this big sum to this infamous set of swindlers, +or suffer my name to be dragged through the mire.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which course does Shelford advise?” asked the detective. +</p> + +<p> +“He is almost as undecided as myself. I don’t pretend that the two +hundred thousand would break me; they know that as well as I do. But +it is unspeakably humiliating to pay such a big sum for what was not +even an act of folly, rather an absence of discretion. On the other +hand, if the action goes on——” +</p> + +<p> +The young man paused a moment to conquer his emotion. “You see, Mr. +Grewgus, I have a very vulnerable place and these thieves know it. I +am the only child of my parents, God-fearing, devout souls who have +lived lives unspotted from the world. If I alone were concerned, +conscious of my innocence, I would brave the shame and scandal of it. +But it would break their hearts. They would believe me, because they +know my good points as well as my bad ones, but they would know half +our world wouldn’t share their belief, and they would never hold up +their heads again.” +</p> + +<p> +And then Grewgus spoke. He had great sympathy with this manly young +fellow; he had heard his voice tremble when he spoke of his mother and +father. Thoughtless and careless perhaps, like many young men of his +age, but a loyal and affectionate son. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want to send you away from this office in a too optimistic +frame of mind; I cannot absolutely promise to get you out of the +clutch of these cunning blackmailers, but I’m going to have a devilish +good try. It is a most fortunate thing that Shelford has sent you to +me, instead of to one of my confrères, for it happens that through my +investigations on behalf of another client I know a great deal about +all these people which they would be very sorry to have come to light. +I think—mind you, I cannot be sure—that what I know will be +sufficient to deter them from going any further. Leave it to me. I +will arrange with Shelford to allow me to act upon your behalf. When I +have got that formal permission, I will see this man Edwards, and +throw my bombshell into his camp.” +</p> + +<p> +Lord Wraysbury was delighted with the turn of events. “But this is +simply wonderful,” he cried. “Do you know something of every one of +them?” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus was delighted too, to such an extent that he relaxed his +habitual reticence. “Not so much about Edwards, except one very +damaging thing, but a good deal about Stormont, Mrs. Edwards, even the +smooth-tongued Glenthorne, who, of course, paid you that visit in the +interests of his pals. Well, good day, Lord Wraysbury. I shall lose no +time, I assure you. I expect to fire my bombshell to-morrow, and after +the interview I shall at once let you know what I expect the result +will be.” +</p> + +<p> +The young nobleman departed in much better spirits than he had +entered. Being a very generous fellow, he resolved that if Grewgus did +extricate him from his unpleasant position, he should receive a fee +that would astonish him. +</p> + +<p> +Having conferred with Mr. Shelford over the ’phone, the detective sent +a note to the <i>Hotel Cecil</i> addressed to Edwards, in which he told +that person he was acting on behalf of Lord Wraysbury in a certain +matter and begged the favour of an appointment. +</p> + +<p> +The boy who took the letter was to wait for an answer, if Edwards was +in. He returned with it. +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +“Dear Sir,” wrote the <i>débonnaire</i> person who belonged to so many +respectable clubs,—“In reply to yours, I beg to say that I shall be +at your disposal any time between eleven and twelve to-morrow. Yours +faithfully, <span class="sc">Bertram Edwards</span>.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +The detective smiled grimly as he wondered if this elegant crook had +any idea of what was in store for him. Hardly. He probably conjectured +that the detective was paying him a visit for the purpose of beating +him down. +</p> + +<p> +Before he went to the <i>Cecil</i>, he paid a flying visit to Lydon at his +office and told him what had passed between himself and Wraysbury on +the previous day. He had no hesitation in doing this, as it had been +agreed that he should watch what was going on at Curzon Street on +Lydon’s behalf. +</p> + +<p> +It was, of course, what they had expected from the day when the young +nobleman had attended Mrs. Edwards’ reception. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad we have got confirmation,” remarked the detective. “But I do +wish we could have directly implicated Stormont in it, that he had, +for instance, taken the rôle in it played by Glenthorne, alias +Whitehouse.” +</p> + +<p> +“We can guess he was at the back of it anyhow,” continued Grewgus. +“Rather amusing his being at that first dinner. I expect he couldn’t +resist the pleasure of hobnobbing with such a distinguished person as +Wraysbury. But I think we have got enough against Stormont now, with +the help of our venal friend Newcombe. He has kept himself pretty well +in the background in this affair, but we have sufficient proof that he +is the friend of blackmailers. And a man is known by the company he +keeps.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite true. Well, now that I know this, I shall tell Jasper Stormont +at the earliest opportunity. I am staying with him at Brighton. I +haven’t told you before, but I may as well tell you now, I am engaged +to Jasper’s daughter. He is a bank official in China and she has been +living with her uncle since she was a child. She is now with her +parents at Brighton, and she must never return to the criminal +atmosphere of Effington.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus had learned the fact of the engagement from Newcombe, but he +affected to hear it for the first time. He fully concurred in the +young man’s determination that she should not return to Effington. +</p> + +<p> +Later on, he was shown into a private sitting-room where he found Mr. +Bertram Edwards, looking as smart and gentlemanly as ever. He could +not help thinking that this elegant young crook, with his charming +manners, must be a great asset to the gang. If he did not move in the +most select circles like Wraysbury, it was evident, from what Lydon +had told him of the Curzon Street party, that he had a foothold in +quite respectable society. +</p> + +<p> +“You have come about this wretched Wraysbury matter, I understand?” he +said in his pleasant, urbane tones. +</p> + +<p> +The detective intimated that this was the object of his visit. +</p> + +<p> +“And have you anything to propose, Mr. Grewgus?” +</p> + +<p> +“My client, Lord Wraysbury, has received a sort of unofficial +intimation from a man named Glenthorne, who claims to be the lady’s +uncle, that if the sum of two hundred thousand pounds is paid to you, +you will abandon proceedings. I beg to tell you, Mr. Edwards, I shall +advise his lordship not to pay you a single farthing.” +</p> + +<p> +Edwards tried to assume an expression of indifference, but it was easy +to see he was taken aback by this blunt declaration. +</p> + +<p> +“In that case, sir, the action will proceed, and I shall go for heavy +damages. I am not going to permit a young sprig of the nobility to +violate the sanctity of my home, without making him smart for it in +the only place where he can feel it—in his pocket.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus bent upon the dandified man his very penetrating and +expressive glance. “This is a business interview, Mr. Edwards, and +there is no necessity for heroics. You know as well as I do that Lord +Wraysbury is quite innocent of any desire to violate the sanctity of +your home, or, for the matter of that, the home of anybody. He’s not +that sort of man. Let me warn you that if you do proceed with this +action, it is at your own peril and that of the lady who bears your +name.” +</p> + +<p> +“My own peril! What the devil do you mean?” blustered Edwards. But, in +spite of his assumed bravado, Grewgus saw an unhealthy pallor creeping +over his usually high-coloured cheek. +</p> + +<p> +Again that penetrating gaze, that distinct and deliberate utterance: +“I don’t know very much about you at present, Mr. Edwards; I have no +doubt I shall add something more to my knowledge shortly. One little +thing I do know, that you were in Paris a short time before the +discovery of the dead body of Léon Calliard in the river Meuse. And +that every day you were meeting the woman who is now Mrs. Edwards in +the outskirts of the city.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused, expecting a bold-faced disclaimer. But it did not come. For +the moment, the man was stricken dumb. +</p> + +<p> +“Of the woman now calling herself your wife, I know a great deal more, +under her different names of Elise Makris, Zillah Mayhew, Miss +Glenthorne. I also know a fair amount about your friend Stormont. And +the same applies to another friend of yours, Glenthorne, otherwise +John Whitehouse. Have I said enough?” +</p> + +<p> +Still there was no reply; the man could not find speech, and he had +aged in those few seconds. +</p> + +<p> +“Please understand me once and for all. If, in a reckless moment, you +persist in this baseless charge against my client and your wife, who +is your accomplice in the matter, I go to Scotland Yard and give my +information, which, as I have told you, is rather extensive.” +</p> + +<p> +Edwards rose to his feet and pointed with a shaking hand to the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Leave the room, you wretched spy. Tell your client the action will +proceed,” he shouted with a last attempt at bravado. +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus laughed derisively, and flung at him a Parthian shot as he +left. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t forget when you reckon up the pros and cons that the Paris +police are still investigating the case of Léon Calliard, the +murdered jeweller.” +</p> + +<p> +As he walked along the Strand, Grewgus felt very satisfied with +himself. In spite of Edwards’ bluff, he felt sure that he had won the +day. +</p> + +<p> +And presently a man brushed past him as he was within a few yards of +Charing Cross Station, walking at a rapid pace; it was the man he had +just left. +</p> + +<p> +As he hastily crossed the road at Villiers Street, Grewgus had a +sudden idea that he was going to the telegraph office to dispatch a +wire. He could have sent it from the <i>Cecil</i>, of course, but no doubt +he had good reasons for not doing so. +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus was a past-master in the art of shadowing. Behind the hurrying +man came the tall, thin form of the detective. And over his shoulder, +as he wrote the message, Grewgus read the words: “Stormont, Effington, +Surrey. It must be dropped. See me to-morrow without fail—<span class="sc">Edwards</span>.” +</p> + +<p> +After reading it, Grewgus crept stealthily away, and was in the street +again, while Edwards, unconscious that he had been watched, was +presenting the telegram at the counter. +</p> + +<p> +Circumstantial evidence, it is true, but of the very strongest +character. What did that wire mean? One thing, and one thing only. +Edwards had been so thoroughly frightened that he was afraid to go on +with the Wraysbury affair, had advised his friend Stormont of the +necessity of dropping it, and urged him to see him to-morrow to tell +him what had happened. It was convincing proof that Stormont was in +the plot. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch21"> +CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">It</span> was a couple of days before Lydon found an opportunity of +breaking to Jasper Stormont the painful news about his brother. In the +meantime he had received from Grewgus an account of the interview at +the <i>Cecil</i>, and the dispatch of the telegram to Effington. +</p> + +<p> +On his return to Brighton in the late afternoon, he was fortunate +enough to find his future father-in-law sitting alone in the lounge; +Gloria and her mother were out shopping. +</p> + +<p> +There was a somewhat worried expression on the banker’s face. “Had a +letter from Howard by the last post in,” he explained. “It looks to me +as if he were within measurable distance of the end we have foreseen +and predicted. He writes that the big <i>coup</i> on which he was engaged +has unexpectedly fallen through, and this places him in a most awkward +predicament for the immediate future. He has made up his mind that he +must give up Effington, reluctant as he is to part from a place to +which he has become so attached. He adds, what I suppose we both +suspected, that it is heavily mortgaged, and that when a sale is +effected, there will be very little left for him. He has already +apprised my sister of the alteration in his fortunes, and begs me to +break it gently to Gloria. Somewhat to my surprise, he has made no +request for money. I suppose he finds the future so dark, that any +little help I could give him would be useless, and that he must make a +drastic change in his mode of life. I must own candidly, my sympathy +would be keener if his own insensate folly were not the cause of the +disaster.” +</p> + +<p> +Here was a splendid opportunity, thought Lydon. The big <i>coup</i> on +which Stormont was engaged, which was to repair his tottering +fortunes, had failed to come off. It was easy to guess what the <i>coup</i> +was—the extraction of that immense sum of money from young Wraysbury. +The abandonment of the prospect which had been nipped in the bud by +the visit of Grewgus to the <i>Hotel Cecil</i> had brought him to the +ground. +</p> + +<p> +“There is something I have to say to you about your brother, Mr. +Stormont, something which I am sure will give you the greatest pain, +but which it is right you should hear. But this is too public a place, +and the ladies may return at any minute. Do you mind coming up to my +room?” +</p> + +<p> +Wondering and uneasy, the banker went with him upstairs. When they +were seated, the young man told him all the details with which the +reader is acquainted. Jasper Stormont listened with a set and rigid +face, as Lydon explained to him how his suspicions had first taken +definite shape on the arrival on the scene of Zillah Mayhew, whom he +had at once associated, from the two facts of the scar and the +sapphire pendant, with Elise Makris; of his engagement of Grewgus to +follow up the clues and the various discoveries of that zealous +detective, down to the latest episode in connection with Wraysbury, +and the despatch of the wire from Edwards to Howard Stormont, which +clearly involved the owner of Effington Hall in the dastardly plot. +</p> + +<p> +“If I have not explained it as lucidly as I might have done,” were the +concluding words of the long recital, “I can take you to Grewgus, if +you wish it, and he will, I am sure, give you a much more coherent +account than I have been able to do.” +</p> + +<p> +Jasper Stormont lifted his haggard face: “There is no necessity, +Leonard. You would not say these things if they were not true, and I +can quite understand how, even before the advent of this woman, +Howard’s unnatural reticence about his business affairs had created in +you a feeling of uneasiness. I had that same feeling myself.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon drew a deep breath: “Ah, the same thing struck you, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I was suspicious, but very far from guessing the ghastly truth. +I came to the conclusion that my brother had spoken truly when he said +he was a financier, but he was not engaged in the highest walks of his +profession. I guessed he was concerned with enterprises which men of +strict integrity would describe as shady, but that in pursuing them he +kept well within the compass of the law. That he bore to a financier +of high repute much the same sort of relation that a blood-sucking +moneylender bears to a reputable banker.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a long pause before Jasper Stormont spoke again. “And now I +must tell you something that would never have passed my lips but for +what you have told me, and which proves that moral turpitude was +engrained in the man from his early years. You know that he went to +Australia? Do you know why he went?” +</p> + +<p> +Yes, Lydon did. He had refrained from telling Jasper a certain portion +of the revelations made by the Colonial, Tom Newcombe, from a feeling +of delicacy. His reply was that he knew he had got into some trouble +about money, but was not aware of the precise nature of it. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I will tell you. My father, who, although poorly blessed with +the world’s goods, was a man of the strictest rectitude, and highly +respected by all who knew him, procured him a post in a most +respectable firm where, unfortunately, he had the handling of money. +You can guess the sequel. To gratify his always extravagant tastes, of +which Effington Hall is an illustration, he diverted several sums to +his own use, displaying in their appropriation a remarkable ingenuity +and cunning. When his defalcations came to light, the firm sent for my +father. But for the respect in which they held him they would have +prosecuted his son. My father and I between us—I had not very much +money then—paid back the sum abstracted. We saved him from +prosecution, on the condition that he should go out to Australia.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did Mrs. Barnard know of this?” asked Lydon. He had never yet been +able to make up his mind whether this self-contained, rather silent +woman knew anything of her brother’s actual pursuits. Jasper +Stormont’s next words solved the problem. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a word. She had been recently married, and lived with her husband +at a considerable distance. It was easy to keep the affair from her. I +may say, in passing, that she is as honest as Howard is the reverse. +</p> + +<p> +“He went to Australia, keeping up a fairly regular correspondence with +his father, in which he made out that he had seen the wickedness of +his ways, and was in honest employment. Of course, at that distance, +we had no means of testing his assertions. He and I had never been +particularly good friends, and his proved dishonesty had snapped the +frail bond between us. We never wrote to each other for years. +</p> + +<p> +“And then one day the long silence was broken. I married and went out +to China, where I had secured a good post. Our parents had died before +he returned to England. The little money my father had accumulated out +of a continuous struggle with fortune was left to my sister, as being +most in need of it. One day I received a long letter from Howard in +which he told me that, having made a little money in Australia, he had +determined to come back to the old country, and see what he could do +with the small capital he had saved. He had gone in for finance, of +course in a very modest way, and he had no reason to complain of his +success. +</p> + +<p> +“It is perhaps not greatly to my credit when I tell you that I am very +hard against evil-doers, offenders against the moral law. I had not +forgiven that early transgression, and I would have preferred not to +renew relations with my brother. But I reflected that such sentiments +were unchristian, and if the man was now walking in the straight path, +it was not for me to withhold the hand of fellowship. I answered the +letter, and from that day we corresponded more or less regularly. +</p> + +<p> +“As that correspondence proceeded, it was apparent that he was +prospering greatly. I was not surprised at that, for he had plenty of +brains, and if he chose to employ them in a right direction, I saw no +reason why he should not succeed. Mrs. Barnard’s husband had died, +leaving her a small annuity which, joined to what my father had +bequeathed her, formed a modest competence. Howard had pressed her to +make her home with him, as he was a bachelor. He would not accept a +penny from her towards the housekeeping; her own small income she was +to look upon as pin-money.” +</p> + +<p> +At this point in the history of his renewed relations with his +brother, Jasper Stormont confessed that Howard’s generous treatment of +his sister had strongly impressed him in his favour. It was more than +probable that that early lesson had sunk into his soul, and he had +really undergone a process of complete moral regeneration. +</p> + +<p> +And then had come the request to adopt Gloria, and make her welfare +one of the principal objects of his life. That further established him +in the good graces of a brother who was disposed to be critical. +Criminal as he had been, there were some good instincts in him, and +these he had displayed to the full in the case of these two members of +his family. +</p> + +<p> +“It will be a terrible shock to Gloria when she is told, as told she +must be,” said the banker. “She is a shrewd girl and you can see she +has a sort of pitying contempt for some of his weaknesses, his +extravagance, his vulgar love of ostentation. But she realizes he has +shown unexampled kindness to her; if she could be spoiled, he has done +his best to spoil her. I wish I could spare her sensitive nature the +shock, but that cannot be. She must never go back to that man’s roof. +So far as my influence goes, she must hold no further communication +with him. The money he has spent on her during these several years I +shall refund to him. As I doubt if he will be in a position to dictate +terms, I may make it a condition that he shall cut away from his evil +associates. Heaven knows if he would keep such a promise. I fear the +spirit of evil is too strong in his crooked nature.” +</p> + +<p> +For some little time the banker sat in agitated meditation. Then he +suddenly roused himself from his painful thoughts and spoke again. “I +feel as if my own small world had tumbled about my ears, Leonard; you +will understand that. There is one thing we have got to face first and +foremost as a consequence of this hideous discovery. Gloria cannot +become your wife.” +</p> + +<p> +The young man looked at him in astonishment. “But, my dear Mr. +Stormont, in the name of justice, why? Do you think me such a cur as +to visit the crimes of her relative upon a pure and innocent girl? +Gloria has promised herself to me. Depend upon it I shall exact that +promise.” +</p> + +<p> +But Jasper Stormont could be a very obstinate man when he chose, and +he held very rigid views of what was right and what was wrong. “No +child of mine shall carry her tainted name into an honourable family,” +he said firmly. “And you cannot get away from it that he has +communicated a taint to the whole of his kindred. Besides, how do we +know what is going to be the end of it? How can we be sure that, long +as he has succeeded in evading justice, it will not overtake him one +of these fine days. Even if I could succeed in persuading him to lead +an honest life for the future, how can we guarantee the past? You say +the Paris police have not yet given up their researches into the +mystery of the jeweller’s death. At any moment something may come to +light in that direction. No, my dear boy, I appreciate your nobility +of choice, but Gloria must give you your freedom. If she is her +father’s daughter, I think she will take the same view as I do.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon was not so sure. In his own mind, he thought that love would +prevail. For a long time they wrangled over the point, the decision +being finally reached that Gloria should act exactly as her feelings +prompted her. Her father would state his views, but he would not use +his influence over her to adopt them. +</p> + +<p> +It was natural they should still talk further over the subject, +painful as the discussion was to both. +</p> + +<p> +“That <i>coup</i> he pretended to be the outcome of some financial +speculation was clearly the mulcting of this young simpleton of that +tremendous sum,” remarked the banker presently. “The fact that it had +fallen through as soon as he received that telegram from his +accomplice proves that. And yet I do not see, if it had come off, that +it would have made his position as sure as he told me. I do not know +in what proportion these miscreants divide their villainous gains. +There were certainly four of them in it, Howard, his friend +Whitehouse, and the husband and wife, to say nothing of the gang who +I suppose have an over-riding percentage on everything. Even if Howard +got a quarter of the amount, the interest on that would not keep a +place like Effington Hall going.” +</p> + +<p> +Lydon smiled ironically. “Would a man of your brother’s temperament +bother about such things as investments and interest? If he received +that sum, he would simply draw on it as long as it lasted, trusting to +further luck to replenish his waning store.” +</p> + +<p> +“Horrible idea,” said the banker with a shudder. “But I think you have +seen more clearly than I did, Leonard. To me, the idea of a man living +on his capital is unthinkable. Well, I shall make these awful +disclosures to Gloria after dinner; she shall have a little more +peace, poor child. And, later on, you and she shall have a +heart-to-heart talk.” +</p> + +<p> +That talk took place later on in the evening, when the young couple +went for a stroll. At first Gloria, tearful and agitated, took her +father’s view. It was impossible she could intrude herself into his +life, with such a ghastly secret in the background, a secret that in +all probability could not be kept indefinitely in the background. It +would break her heart to part with him, but, for his own sake, she +must insist upon giving him back his freedom. If he was angry with her +now, he would be grateful in the future. So she pleaded amidst her +plentiful tears. +</p> + +<p> +But by degrees he wore down her resolution, dictated by the judgment, +not the heart. If Howard Stormont’s past should ever be revealed to an +astonished world, he would help her with all his might to live the +hateful thing down. When they returned to the hotel, he had proved the +victor, and announced the result to Jasper, who, loyal to his promise, +acquiesced, if he found it impossible to approve. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall come up to London in the morning with you,” he said to the +young man, “and ascertain on the ’phone what are Howard’s movements. I +should say that, as his <i>coup</i> has failed, he will be bewailing his +ill-fortune at Effington. He will hardly have the heart to resume his +usual habits for a few days.” +</p> + +<p> +And so it proved. Mrs. Barnard, who answered the ’phone call, +explained that her brother was rather out of sorts, and Jasper would +find him at Effington at almost any hour of the day. If he went out, +it would only be for a stroll in the grounds or to the village. +</p> + +<p> +Jasper Stormont went down after luncheon; he had not committed himself +to any particular time. To one thing he had firmly made up his mind; +he would not take another meal at Effington Hall, in the society of +the man he had the misfortune to call brother. He took a taxi at the +station and drove in due course through the big gates of the stately +mansion, which he devoutly hoped he was entering for the last time. +</p> + +<p> +The owner was out, the new butler informed him, but was expected back +shortly. Mrs. Barnard was in. +</p> + +<p> +She was pleased to see her brother. “But why couldn’t you come to +luncheon?” she asked him. “Surely you are going to dine and stop the +night?” +</p> + +<p> +She had received him in her own little boudoir, in which she wrote so +many letters. “This may be the last time I shall see you here,” she +remarked, not without symptoms of emotion. “Howard told me he had +written to you about his misfortunes. For a long time I have feared +this would be the end of his reckless extravagance. Well, it has come, +and the only thing to do is to face it as well as one can. Thank +Heaven, it won’t affect dear Gloria very much personally, but I am +sure she is terribly grieved for us.” +</p> + +<p> +Jasper Stormont was a lovable enough man in many ways, but the sight +of Effington, with its pretence of wealth, had made him feel very +hard. Still, he could not show hardness to this poor woman who had +lived for so long in a fool’s paradise. +</p> + +<p> +“She feels intense pity for <i>you</i>,” he said, laying a strong emphasis +on the pronoun. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Barnard looked wonderingly at him, and a flush dyed her face. +“What does that mean? Has she no pity for poor Howard, who gratified +her every whim, and spoiled her from the day she entered the house? I +will not believe it of her. He has been weak, but not criminal, +Jasper.” +</p> + +<p> +And then Jasper raised his voice in righteous wrath. “My poor sister, +you little knew, I have only known for the last few hours, that this +brother of ours has been leading a double life. He is one of the +biggest criminals that ever walked the face of the earth.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Barnard’s face froze into a look of horror. If any other man had +spoken those awful words, she would have told him he lied. But she +knew Jasper’s character too well. He would not have made such a charge +if it were not true. +</p> + +<p> +As briefly as possible he told her what he knew, through that chance +opening of the letter to Zillah Mayhew by Lydon. The unhappy woman +burst into a passionate fit of weeping. +</p> + +<p> +“Jasper, you must take me away with you when you leave,” she said when +she had recovered herself a little. “I could not stay another night +under the roof after what you have told me. The associate of thieves, +blackmailers, a potential murderer himself. It is like some hideous +nightmare.” +</p> + +<p> +And at that moment Howard Stormont walked into the room, with a smile +of welcome on his harassed countenance. Perhaps he thought his brother +had come to help him in his financial difficulties. +</p> + +<p> +But as he took in the scene, the still weeping woman, Jasper standing +beside her with a hard and inflexible look upon his face, he knew that +the visit portended nothing of the kind. +</p> + +<p> +He looked from one to the other and his own face grew paler as he +noted his sister’s averted countenance. +</p> + +<p> +“What the devil does all this mean? And you, Jasper, why do you refuse +to take my hand?” he cried in a harsh voice that showed traces of +fear. +</p> + +<p> +At a sign from her brother, Mrs. Barnard withdrew, and the two men +were left alone—Jasper stern, rigid; Howard with terrible forebodings +in his guilty soul. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch22"> +CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Howard</span> was the first to break the strained silence; he spoke in a +toneless voice. “I Suppose you will presently tell me what all this +means, the reason of this extraordinary attitude. I suppose you have +been talking over the state of affairs with Maud, and are angry with +me for having made such a muddle of things. You will stay to dinner, +of course?” +</p> + +<p> +Swiftly came the reply: “If I would not take your hand, is it likely I +would accept your hospitality? I hope never to see you, nor set foot +in this house of evil, again. Howard Stormont, I know you for what you +are; I know the double life you have been leading since you left +England and since you returned to it. I know you to be the associate +of criminals, yourself not the least criminal amongst them.” +</p> + +<p> +The face of the detected crook went livid: “We can’t talk here,” he +said hoarsely. “Come down to my room and let us have it out.” +</p> + +<p> +They went into the handsomely furnished study. As soon as they got +there, he opened the door of a small sideboard, from which he +extracted a bottle of uncorked brandy. He filled a tumbler half full +of the raw spirit and gulped it down. For the moment, the potent +draught steadied his nerves, and he sank into a chair, and looked with +a certain amount of hardihood at his brother. +</p> + +<p> +“Now let me hear what you do know, or think you know.” He had made no +attempt to repel Jasper’s charge. He knew the man’s cautious character +too well to think he would speak as he had done, except on evidence +that was satisfactory and convincing. +</p> + +<p> +“I know of your association with the woman known at present as Mrs. +Edwards, who has gone under the different names of Elise Makris, +Zillah Mayhew, Zillah Glenthorne, the woman who was connected with the +tragedy at Nice in which poor Hugh Craig figured, the woman you +dispatched to Paris along with the man Edwards to carry out your +designs against the rich jeweller Calliard, who was robbed and +murdered.” +</p> + +<p> +Howard Stormont interrupted in a choking voice. He knew it was useless +to protest innocence. “Murder was never intended. The fool who carried +out the job exceeded his instructions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think I should believe a word you said?” was Jasper’s scornful +comment. “Lying, even perjury, would be a venial offence in the eyes +of one so steeped in crime. But even if the murder of Calliard cannot +be laid directly at your door, what have you to say to your own +attempt on the life of your old Australian associate, Newcombe, the +man whom you feared for his knowledge of your past?” +</p> + +<p> +“I made no attempt upon his life,” was the dogged reply. “I only +wanted to give the drunken fool a fright.” +</p> + +<p> +“A miserable lie,” said Jasper sternly. “You miscalculated the dose of +your devilish poison, or the man would be dead now. For some days he +hung between life and death. And I also know that you were concerned +in this last dastardly attempt to extort money from young Wraysbury, +with the help of the two confederates who had carried out your schemes +in Paris.” +</p> + +<p> +Stormont rose and helped himself to another dose of brandy. “And how +did you find all this out?” he asked presently. +</p> + +<p> +“That is my business,” was the curt answer. +</p> + +<p> +It was some time before the wretched man spoke again. “I think I can +guess how the information came. That young Lydon had his suspicions +from the day he met Zillah here, and put a detective on our track. My +sister told me she had given him some letters to post which I had +forgotten to take with me; one of them was to her. He opened it and +what he read gave him the clue, and he set this fellow Grewgus to +work. But what beats me is how he suspected Zillah; he had never seen +her. When he and Craig were at Nice, she took good care to keep out of +his way.” +</p> + +<p> +Jasper did not enlighten his brother on this point, and presently +Howard put to him, point-blank, the question: “And now that you know +all this, what are you and this precious young Lydon going to do? Do +you intend to play the part of virtuous citizens and denounce me to +the police?” +</p> + +<p> +“We ought to do it, if we performed our duty,” said Jasper coldly. +“But I have a proposition to make to you. Your letter shows me that +you are broke to the world. Your interview with your confederate +Edwards, after Grewgus had foiled his plot against Wraysbury, must +have convinced you that a continuance of this criminal life is fraught +with peril; that at any moment Nemesis may overtake you.” +</p> + +<p> +Stormont looked up sharply, “How did you know that I had an interview +with Edwards?” he asked, in evident surprise. +</p> + +<p> +But Jasper declined to enlighten him. “Again I repeat, that is my +business. This precious young Lydon, as you call him, has behaved like +the honourable Englishman he is. I told him emphatically that he must +give up Gloria, that he must not connect himself with a family that +had this black stain upon its records. Gloria took the same view, and +insisted upon releasing him, although she told me that to do so would +break her heart.” +</p> + +<p> +For the first time in their interview, the hardened criminal showed an +overwhelming sense of shame. “Poor Gloria!” he muttered in a broken +voice. “Poor Gloria! It is indeed hard upon her. And Lydon would not +accept his dismissal. Well, I will admit he is a noble fellow.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad you do him that justice. Well, my proposition is this. It +is horrible to me to think that my innocent and unsuspecting child has +lived all these years upon the proceeds of infamy. The money you have +expended upon her for something like fourteen years I will restore to +you on the condition that you abandon this life, and break away for +ever from your criminal associates. Even then, there is not absolute +safety. At any moment the past may yield up its secrets, and all the +world may know you for what you are.” +</p> + +<p> +Howard Stormont kept silence. His active brain was no doubt weighing +the advantages and disadvantages of his brother’s suggestion. +</p> + +<p> +“As I shall be very liberal in my estimate of what she cost you,” +continued Jasper; “you could exist upon the interest of the capital +sum I should hand over to you. But you are not without brains, and you +might use that money to embark in some honest business.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is a very generous offer,” Howard said at length. “And I am very +disposed to accept It without further reflection. Still, I would like +to go into matters a little closer first. I admit your visit here +to-day has taken the courage out of me. You will laugh at me, I +suppose, and consider it a further proof of my hypocrisy when I say +that I would prefer not to live upon your bounty. But I should like to +reckon up what I am likely to get out of the sale of Effington, when +the mortgages have been paid off.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not a question of bounty; it is an act of reparation to my own +conscience,” said Jasper hastily. “I would prefer to return the money +to its rightful owners, if I could find them. But that is impossible. +If you refuse to accept this sum, I shall devote it to charity, so as +to make some sort of amends.” +</p> + +<p> +“Give me till to-morrow, and I will let you know definitely. I presume +you have told Maud?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” answered Jasper. “She is as much horrified as I was when +I learned the horrible truth. She is coming back with me.” +</p> + +<p> +A ghastly smile spread over Stormont’s white face. “It is what one +might expect. Rats always leave the sinking ship, don’t they?” +</p> + +<p> +Jasper made no reply to this cynical remark, which showed the +naturally hard and callous nature of the man. He moved towards the +door with a few last words. “I must have your decision not later than +the time you have stated.” +</p> + +<p> +He went out into the hall and summoned a servant to find Mrs. Barnard +and ask her to come to him in her boudoir. He had kept the taxi +waiting. As soon as she was ready, they could quit this house of evil +where the owner of it had plotted and thought out his criminal +schemes. +</p> + +<p> +She came to him ready dressed for her journey. She was taking with her +a couple of small trunks; the rest of her belongings, which had all +been bought with her own money, could be sent after her. Jasper +explained that he was taking her down to Brighton, where she could +make a long stay till she had made her plans for the future. Together +they went down into the hall. +</p> + +<p> +And suddenly, in a burst of womanly feeling, she whispered to her +brother, “Vile as he is, I cannot leave him without a word.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned, and walking swiftly to the study, opened the door and +entered. Howard was sitting huddled up in his chair, looking a ghastly +object of misery and despair. She laid her hand lightly on his arm for +an instant. “God forgive you, Howard, and turn your heart before it is +too late.” +</p> + +<p> +His dry lips muttered a faint “Good-bye,” and she turned from him and +rejoined Jasper. +</p> + +<p> +They got back to Brighton in the evening, and in the private +sitting-room the banker explained to Lydon and his family what had +passed between the two men in that final visit to Effington. Leonard +was rejoiced that Mrs. Barnard had come back with her brother. He had +never quite been able to make up his mind about her, whether or not +she was in Howard’s confidence; but her action showed that, like her +niece, she had never guessed his guilty secret. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning, Jasper Stormont, according to his usual custom, went +for a stroll before breakfast, and on his return to the hotel found a +telegram awaiting him. It was from the butler at Effington Hall and +informed him that his brother had committed suicide early that +morning. He had thought he would never set foot in Effington again, +but in the face of such news he must go there at once. +</p> + +<p> +When he reached the house, the butler gave him the details. On +entering the study, one of the housemaids discovered her master lying +dead in his easy-chair, a bottle of brandy standing beside his elbow, +an empty pistol lying on the floor to which it had dropped after he +had shot himself. He had been dead some few hours, the doctor said, +when she had found him. At the time of his suicide, for the +perpetration of which he had fortified himself with large doses of +alcohol, the household was fast asleep, and nobody had heard the shot. +Jasper could only conclude that the wretched man had come to the +conclusion life was played out for him, and had nerved himself to make +his exit from the world on which he had preyed for so long. +</p> + +<p> +He had been careful to preserve appearances. He had written an open +letter lying on the table in which he stated that utter financial ruin +had come upon him, and that at his age he lacked the courage to begin +the battle of life over again. He gave the address of his brother at +Brighton, and requested that he should be communicated with at once. +</p> + +<p> +There was a good deal of sympathy in the neighbourhood, where his +benefactions and lavish hospitality had made him popular. The inquest +was held in due course, and the usual compassionate verdict recorded. +When Howard Stormont was laid to rest nobody guessed that the body of +an arch-criminal was being committed to the earth. Jasper Stormont’s +visit was explained on the grounds that he had come to take his sister +for a long stay at Brighton. +</p> + +<p> +So the future was secure. A sum was offered for Effington Hall which, +after payment of the various charges and debts, left over a balance of +about a couple of thousand pounds. Stormont had left no will, and his +property therefore devolved upon his next of kin. But as none of them +would touch a farthing, Jasper made a donation of the money to a +necessitous hospital. +</p> + +<p> +It was a great relief to Jasper and his sister that he had solved the +problem of the future in the way he had, before the old instincts came +to life again and led him to the commission of further crime. But +tender-hearted Gloria sometimes shed tears when she remembered the +numerous acts of kindness to her, proving that even the basest of men +can possess some good qualities. +</p> + +<p> +Lord Wraysbury heard nothing further from Edwards’ solicitors. Grewgus +had settled that little matter, and for doing so he received a very +handsome cheque from the grateful young nobleman. The house and +furniture in Curzon Street were up for sale. Neither Edwards nor his +wife was any longer in residence there. Grewgus chuckled as he thought +this frustrated scheme must have cost the gang a pretty sum. +</p> + +<p> +Glenthorne had also suddenly left Ashstead Mansions, and abandoned his +solicitor’s practice. That interview of Grewgus with Edwards and the +suicide of Stormont seemed to have produced far-reaching consequences. +Edwards had disappeared and was not heard of at any of his usual +haunts, and the dark, handsome Zillah had vanished as suddenly as her +uncle. It looked like a wholesale dispersal of that portion of the +gang. +</p> + +<p> +Lydon and Grewgus settled up accounts. The detective informed his +client that the Paris police had given up the case of Léon Calliard, +after following several delusive clues. There was now practically no +chance that the details of the unfortunate man’s murder would ever be +known, unless he communicated the information he had acquired about +Edwards and Zillah. Even then, it would be almost impossible to +connect them with the affair. +</p> + +<p> +But of course Lydon strongly discountenanced such a step. One could +not take it without bringing Howard Stormont into the matter; it would +also involve Jasper, who would have to testify that his brother had +practically admitted his participation in it. +</p> + +<p> +“Best to let sleeping dogs lie, for the sake of the family,” said the +young man. “If one did discover the actual murderer, it would not +bring the unfortunate Calliard to life, and it would inflict the +greatest pain upon innocent people.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus agreed, rather reluctantly. He had the true instincts of the +sleuth-hound; he loved to hunt his quarry down. He would dearly have +liked to go to Scotland Yard, but he was bound to respect his client’s +wishes on the subject. All the same, he felt it was a tame sort of +inquiry which had not resulted in a triumphant finish. As a +consequence of it, Stormont had been driven to suicide, and the other +persons concerned had found it expedient to lie low for a while. But +for him, there was no public kudos in it. +</p> + +<p> +On the same day on which he squared up accounts with Lydon he came +face to face in the Strand with his old friend Tom Newcombe. The +gentleman’s appearance had altered very much. He had discarded his +beard and moustache, and a less keen eye than the detective’s might +have failed to recognize him. But Grewgus had a wonderful memory for +faces, and it required a very clever disguise to baffle him. They +exchanged greetings. +</p> + +<p> +“Hardly knew me, did you?” inquired the Colonial. “You see, I +clean-shaved myself directly after we had settled matters. I got out +of that house as soon as I could, but I was mortally afraid I might +run across Stormont, and he might get me into his clutches again. +Well, it’s all right now, he has passed in his checks. I can tell you +it was a relief when I saw it in the papers. I thought, as I read it, +that you might have had something to do with it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps I had, in a very indirect fashion,” was the cautious answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, he’s gone to where he wanted to send me. Gad, that man did make +me see red when I thought of his attempt to put me out of the way. +Many a time I’ve half made up my mind to sneak down to Effington and +plug him if I got the chance. But a bit of prudence stepped in, +fortunately. It wasn’t worth swinging for a fellow like that. And so +he came to a bad end, after all. It makes one think a bit, mister, it +does.” +</p> + +<p> +“It makes you think a bit, eh?” repeated the detective. “And what turn +do your thoughts take? The wages of sin is death, or something of that +sort?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve hit it,” said the Colonial, speaking with great seriousness. +“I told you my mother was a good woman; she did her best to bring me +up religious, but my father always scoffed at her for her pains. How +many times have I heard her use that very phrase; it has always stuck +in my memory. I thought of her a goodish bit when I was struggling +back to life. I began to feel quite sick of the past, and all the evil +I had done. But you know, mister, when you’ve once got into the +crooked life, it’s precious hard to get out of it. But now I’ve got +that bit of money, I’ve made up my mind to go straight.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m exceedingly glad to hear it,” said Grewgus heartily. +</p> + +<p> +“Most crooks come to a bad end. Stormont, who was clever and cunning +as the devil, took his life at the finish, and most of ’em overreach +themselves and get into quod. So I’m making a fresh start. Till I read +that in the papers, I was going out to Canada, for fear of Stormont. +But now he’s out of the way, I shall stick in the old country. I shall +buy a snug little business, a tobacconist’s by preference. Gosh, it +will be pleasant to pass a policeman without fearing he’s going to lay +his hand on you.” +</p> + +<p> +They chatted for a little time longer, and at parting Grewgus offered +Newcombe his hand, which the Colonial shook heartily. Since he had now +resolved to lead an honest life, the detective felt he was justified +in showing him this mark of esteem. +</p> + +<p> +He got back to his office about four o’clock and busied himself with +his correspondence. In the midst of it, a clerk entered and said that +a lady wished to speak with him for a few minutes, but would not give +her name. +</p> + +<p> +Rather impatiently, for he was very occupied with his letters, he +ordered the visitor to be shown in. +</p> + +<p> +What was his astonishment when the mysterious lady entered, and he +recognized in the dark, handsome young woman who had refused to give +her name, Elise Makris, otherwise Mrs. Edwards. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch23"> +CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">The</span> handsome young woman addressed the detective with the charm of +manner that had no doubt beguiled so many men, notably Hugh Craig and +the susceptible Léon Calliard. +</p> + +<p> +“I take it from what you told my husband, Bertram Edwards, that you +are acquainted with me—at any rate, my appearance. I suppose, Mr. +Grewgus, you must have been in Paris at the same time I was there.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is quite true,” was the answer. Grewgus had certainly formed the +opinion at one time that the young woman’s sudden departure had been +occasioned by her discovery of the fact that she was being watched. +But her next words settled this point once and for all. +</p> + +<p> +“And I suppose you followed me about from place to place. It is rather +strange that I did not spot you; as I flatter myself that I am rather +a keen observer. From what you know of my career, you may be sure I +have had to cultivate the quality of alertness. You must be very +clever at your business. I should have said it would be impossible for +anybody to shadow me continuously for even a day without my being +aware of it.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus smiled. “I think I may say, without undue vanity, I am rather +clever at it. In your case, I took somewhat elaborate precautions, as +I felt I was dealing with a very resourceful woman. I shadowed you +under perhaps a dozen different disguises. Well, Mrs. Edwards, I need +hardly say I am very astonished to see you in my office. I suppose you +will tell me in good time the object of your visit.” +</p> + +<p> +A very hard look came over the handsome face. “I need not keep you +waiting a moment longer. My object is revenge.” +</p> + +<p> +“Against your former associates in general, or some particular +person?” suggested the detective quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Against my former associates, with one exception, I have no rancour. +They did their best to make my life pleasant, so far as such a life +can be made pleasant. I was one of those unfortunate creatures whose +mode of existence is determined for them at a very early age by +others, from whose domination it is impossible to escape. My father +was a crook; my mother, so long as she retained her good looks, +followed the same calling. And I was trained to follow in her +footsteps. You can say it was easy to break away, to separate from +these evil counsellors, and earn my living in some honest way. Mr. +Grewgus, it was not easy. More than once I have tried and I had to go +back.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus looked at her curiously. She had spoken very calmly up to the +last few sentences, and then her manner had suddenly changed. Her +voice had in it a vibrating ring; her attempt to break away, and the +futility of it, had aroused in her very bitter memories. +</p> + +<p> +“They would not allow me to sever my bonds,” she continued, speaking +in the same intense tones. “Once I thought I had succeeded, and hidden +myself away from them, I had taken a situation as a shop assistant. +Somehow, they tracked me down. One of the gang went to the proprietor, +and representing himself as a police official, warned him that he had +a thief in his service, a girl who had lately come out of gaol. It was +a lie. I have deserved prison many times, but luck has kept me out of +it; but it was a lie that served its purpose. I was dismissed there +and then, turned out into the street with the few miserable francs I +had saved out of my poor wages. My mother was waiting near by to take +me back. I think in a way she pitied me, but she told me it was +useless struggling against them; they would never let me go. I was too +useful to them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your natural advantages proved, no doubt, a great asset to them,” +remarked the detective. “Your appearance made you an ideal decoy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, good looks are not invariably a blessing,” said the beautiful +young woman with a melancholy smile. “Had I been an ordinary-looking +girl, they would have allowed me to remain in that humble shop, and +troubled their heads no further about me. They were the cause of my +being devoted to a life of evil by which I enriched others more than +myself. But the greatest curse of all which they brought upon me was +my association with the man you lately called upon, my husband, +Bertram Edwards.” +</p> + +<p> +Her voice, as she spoke the name, was full of passion and hatred. +Grewgus guessed now why she had called upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“You know something about him, a great deal too much for his comfort, +but you cannot know the utter callousness of his brutal nature. +Stormont was hard and ruthless in a way, where he encountered +opposition, but he had his good points, he was genial, he was +generous. If you knew how to handle him, you could get on well with +him. The same might be said of John Whitehouse, who for a long time +has passed as my uncle, although there is not the most remote +relationship between us. But after the first few months of glamour +were over, I could never find a single redeeming quality in Edwards. I +think the man had all the vices it was possible to amalgamate in a +single temperament.” +</p> + +<p> +“You were in love with this man, then, when you married him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Passionately,” was the reply. “Nobody could have been more successful +than he in masking a vile nature under a prepossessing exterior. But +even in the early days of our honeymoon he showed the cloven hoof. +During the whole of our married existence my life has been one long +experience of infamy, insult, brutality and outrage. And the love I +bore him has turned to a hatred so intense that I would risk anything +to procure him the punishment he deserves.” +</p> + +<p> +So, when she had shown Wraysbury the bruise on her arm, and told him +her husband was a brute and a bully, she had been speaking the truth, +thought Grewgus. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you come to me with the idea of getting him punished?” asked the +detective. He would have dearly loved to aid her in such a laudable +object but for the express wishes of Lydon to let sleeping dogs lie. +</p> + +<p> +“That is my sole reason. I can give you so much evidence about him and +put you in the way of corroborating it without having to appear +myself. But, of course, a wife is not allowed to give evidence against +her husband in a criminal charge.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is the worst of it,” said the artful detective, who wanted to +get all he could out of her, to turn her hatred to his own advantage. +“But let me know some of the details, and I will see if anything can +be done. Let us start with the murder of Calliard. Was Edwards the +murderer?” +</p> + +<p> +Reluctantly, as it seemed, she had to admit he was not. In the course +of her confessions on the subject, she confirmed what Stormont had +insisted on to his brother, that murder had never been intended. +Edwards had not been on in the final act of the tragedy. As at first +resolved upon, it had been a case of simple robbery. She had not even +sought the jeweller’s society with the object of blackmailing him, but +solely to ascertain his movements. +</p> + +<p> +After she had left Paris, two members of the gang had been dispatched +to Brussels to wait for the unfortunate man and entrap him. In +rendering him senseless, one of the miscreants had given him too +strong a dose of chloroform, and it proved fatal. To cover up their +crime, they had thrown his body in the river. She had learned these +details afterwards from Whitehouse, but she did not know the names of +either of the men. Stormont, who was the leading spirit of the gang, +and had originally marked down Calliard for a victim, was alone +acquainted with their identity. It was always his policy to keep the +subordinate members of the association as far apart as possible. They +worked in little coteries, and, in the majority of cases, one coterie +knew nothing of the other. +</p> + +<p> +But dearly as she would have loved to implicate Edwards in the +tragedy, she had to confess she could not do so. As a matter of fact +he was in Spain on other business when it happened. +</p> + +<p> +“Our married life would have been intolerable, but for the fact that +we did not spend a great deal of it together; when we did, I suffered +physically and mentally,” she explained at this point. “His vile +temper vented itself upon me on the slightest provocation, in spite of +the fact that both Stormont and Whitehouse frequently intervened on my +behalf, and remonstrated with him. When the plot against Wraysbury was +hatched, it was a necessary part of it that we should live together. +That was a time of terrible torture to me. When it failed, thanks to +your intervention, he wreaked his disappointment on me. On the day he +left England, frightened by your knowledge, he beat me almost into a +state of insensibility.” +</p> + +<p> +Was she exaggerating, or was Edwards such a monster as she made out? +But Grewgus, a shrewd judge of demeanour, guessed by her emotion, her +fervent accents, that she was telling the truth, that this man had +terrorized and ill-treated her, that but for his devilish power over +her she would have broken away. She remarked incidentally that she and +her mother had a fair amount of money put by, their share of the +proceeds from the various schemes in which they had taken part under +the leadership of Stormont and Whitehouse. +</p> + +<p> +She gave him a great deal of information about Edwards. This rascal +had specialized chiefly in blackmail, using her in most cases as a +decoy, and his activities in this direction had almost exclusively +been practised abroad. The affair with Lord Wraysbury was the only +serious <i>coup</i> he had attempted in his own country. This unscrupulous +scoundrel was intensely proud of his birth and social connections, and +that perhaps was the reason he did so little in England. +</p> + +<p> +“But, from what he said to Whitehouse, on the day after you had so +thoroughly frightened him, I don’t think he will ever return. You see, +he is not sure how much you know. He guesses your inquiries were made +on behalf of a private person, but he also remembers you threatened +him with Scotland Yard,” said the young woman when she had concluded +this portion of her story. +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus explained to her that he could not very clearly see his way to +assist her in her schemes of vengeance on her brutal husband, as he +had appeared to confine himself almost exclusively to acts of +blackmail abroad. “In all these cases,” he told her, “there is no +chance of securing the co-operation of the victims. If we could have +connected him with the kidnapping of Calliard, which resulted in +unintentional murder, you yourself could assist the Belgian police, +who have abandoned the case. But you emphatically say he was somewhere +else at the time. All he did, I suppose, when in Paris was to convey +the instructions set out by Stormont, and meet you from day to day to +learn what progress you were making. When you both left that city, I +presume others were engaged in the affair.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Edwards admitted that this was so. In spite of the prejudice +engendered against her by his knowledge of her evil past, Grewgus had +to admit that the woman had extraordinary powers of fascination. They +influenced him so far that he found himself pitying her profoundly for +being tied to such a brutal husband, so much so that he voluntarily +offered his services to her if Edwards should again seek to intrude +himself into her life. +</p> + +<p> +She thanked him very sweetly. “I have a notion I shall never see him +again,” she said. “But one never knows. He has made a good deal of +money, but he is a very greedy man. He is very frightened just now, +but his fear may pass away, and he will want to further enrich himself +by the same old means. In that case, he would seek me out with the +object of compelling me to help him. In that case, I should be glad to +come to you in the hope that you could terrify him again.” +</p> + +<p> +“What are your intentions as regards the future?” asked the detective +presently. “It would hardly be safe for you to go abroad, would it? +You would be pretty certain to run across him some day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I would prefer living on the Continent, but I dare not run the +risk of falling in with him again. After the design upon Lord +Wraysbury miscarried, thanks to your intervention, and both Whitehouse +and Edwards judged it prudent to clear out, I telegraphed to my mother +to come over from Rouen, where she was living quietly. We talked over +matters very thoroughly, and we made up our minds that we would hide +ourselves in some corner of England under an assumed name.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus could not help smiling at this last remark. This fascinating +young woman had gone under so many different names, that the adoption +of another alias would come very naturally to her. +</p> + +<p> +“I understand, then, that you propose for the future to go straight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Most certainly,” was the reply given in a tone that showed absolute +sincerity. “Through you, the particular coterie to which I belonged +has been practically dispersed. Howard Stormont, for whom I had +something like a feeling of affection for his kindness to me, took his +own way out of it; he was a thriftless, improvident man and he saw +ruin staring him in the face. Whitehouse was altogether different. He +was careful, not to say parsimonious. By now he must have saved a +great deal of money, and I know it was his intention to give up the +life as soon as he had amassed enough to live on. I think he was only +waiting for the Wraysbury <i>coup</i> to come off to execute that +intention. Its failure has made him forestall it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You know where he is at the present moment, of course?” asked +Grewgus. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I do not,” was the emphatic answer, and the detective believed +that it was a truthful one. “When we talked the matter over, we both +agreed that it was best we should know nothing of each other’s +movements. I suppose we had both lived in such an atmosphere of +suspicion and secrecy, that he did not care to trust me; I was equally +disinclined to trust him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why did he carry on that solicitor’s business? He had no genuine +business, had he?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Edwards smiled. “Although I did not particularly like the man, I +had no grudge against him, and we always got on comfortably together, +and I should not care to do him a bad turn. But I think now I can +answer that question without doing him any harm. He had practically no +legal business, but he acted for the organization in cases where they +wanted advice. He was actually a money-lender, and having got his +articles when a young man, before he took to a life of crime, set up +as a solicitor in order to present a more respectable appearance. I +believe he made a great deal of money that way.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I suppose you know how he and Stormont became first acquainted?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Edwards was perfectly frank about the matter. “Whitehouse and he +met originally in Australia. Whitehouse had been affiliated to a +rather high-class gang for some time, and I suppose he recognized in +Stormont a very promising recruit. They engaged in some enterprises +there, and Stormont got into trouble. When he came out of prison he +returned to England and hunted up his old friend. In due course, +Stormont became a leading member of the organization. I was one of his +assistants, and I am sure he had several others. But he was a very +cautious man, in spite of his bluff and genial manners, and he never +allowed us to know much of each other. He and Whitehouse directed +affairs in their own particular branch.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus was feeling very well satisfied with the result of the +interview. The candour of the fascinating young woman had led her +actually to confirm his different discoveries and suspicions. There +was one other matter, however, on which he wished to obtain further +enlightenment. +</p> + +<p> +“The affair with Hugh Craig at Nice, was Stormont at the back of +that?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Edwards did not appear to answer quite as readily as before. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it was he who first set me upon it. He knew that Craig, although +not a wealthy man, had some money.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you were married to Edwards at the time, of course?” was the +detective’s next question. +</p> + +<p> +“Not at the time I first met Craig. Our marriage came later. But, as I +told you, we lived only occasionally together. The exigencies of our +calling rendered it necessary for us to be apart the best part of our +married life.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I know that you relieved poor Craig of a good deal of his money.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had to obey orders in this case as in the others,” was the young +woman’s answer; and Grewgus could perceive that she was speaking with +considerable emotion. “It was the most painful episode in my career, +for the poor young fellow was desperately in love with me. When a +foolish blunder on my part roused his suspicions, I think his mind +became unhinged. He would never have tried to kill me if he had been +in full possession of his senses. I can guess you know all the details +of the ghastly story from his great friend, Lydon.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus nodded, and Mrs. Edwards, conquering her emotion, went on in a +calmer voice: +</p> + +<p> +“I always felt a premonition that Stormont made the greatest mistake +of his life when he cultivated Lydon’s acquaintance with the view of +providing a good match for his niece. He should have steered clear of +anybody who had a knowledge at first hand of that tragedy. I told him +so when I first heard of it. I told him again when I met Lydon that +day at Effington. He laughed at my fears, said that we had never met, +and that if I kept my mother out of the way, all would be well. Dozens +of girls had a similar blemish. How was he likely to connect me with +Elise Makris? Lydon, I must say, acted very well. I did not suspect +for a moment that he recognized me. I cannot guess to this day how he +did.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I can enlighten you on that point,” said Grewgus, who felt, +after her attitude to him, that he could afford to show a little +candour. He touched the sapphire pendant which she was wearing, and +told her what Lydon had learned about it on the day he saw it lying on +the table in a room of the Villa des Cyclamens. +</p> + +<p> +“If it had been the blemish only, Mrs. Edwards, he might not have +identified you,” Grewgus concluded. “But it was <i>that</i> which gave him +the clue—your mascot which your mother said you always wore, and +which she had taken from you that day in the hospital.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, now I understand. The incident must have passed completely from +my mother’s mind, for although we have often talked together of young +Lydon, and the necessity of keeping her out of his way, she never +spoke of it. Strange, very strange,” she added in a musing voice, +“that this little mascot in which I so firmly believed should be the +cause of all that has happened, should have set you, through Lydon, on +the track of myself, Stormont and the others.” +</p> + +<p> +Grewgus presently brought the conversation round again to Hugh Craig +directly, and artfully cross-examined her as to the manner in which +she had blackmailed him. But to his questions he did not get very +distinct replies. He gathered that, in his infatuation for the +beautiful girl, the young man had parted with large sums, ostensibly +to defray debts incurred by herself and her mother, sums which were +divided in certain proportions between the confederates in the +schemes. But he failed to get any precise details. She sheltered her +reticence under the plea that it gave her inexpressible pain to dwell +upon those miserable days. +</p> + +<p> +She left him shortly, with renewed thanks for his promise to help her +in case Edwards should return and endeavour to force his society upon +her. And after she had left, he sat for a long time meditating on +herself, her strange charm, and all she had told him. +</p> + +<p> +Had she been only playing a part in order to excite his sympathy, or +had she always hated the life which had been thrust upon her by her +environment, and was only too thankful to embrace this opportunity of +quitting it? +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch24"> +CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Leonard</span> and Gloria were married a month before Jasper Stormont and +his wife left England for China. That last month they spent in London. +It was a very quiet wedding; a cousin of the bridegroom officiated as +one of the bridesmaids, the two others were girl friends of the bride, +and had been her bosom friends at Effington, where the memory of +Howard Stormont was still held in kindly remembrance by those who +would have been horrified if they had known the truth about him. Mr. +Grewgus was present at the ceremony, and presented dainty gifts to +both bride and bridegroom. +</p> + +<p> +Leonard had bought a charming house in the neighbourhood of Godalming +with some four acres of pretty grounds. It could not compare with the +magnificence of Effington Hall, where Howard Stormont had played the +rôle of country gentleman what time he was hatching his evil schemes +in conjunction with his taciturn fellow-criminal, John Whitehouse. But +to Gloria it was a haven of peace and delight, with her flowers and +dogs and the sweet sounds and scents of country life. She and her +young husband are devoted to each other, and although they have the +most friendly relations with their neighbours, are full of happiness +when they are alone. +</p> + +<p> +Twelve months had passed, and the villainy of Stormont and his +associates had become almost a faint memory to the young wedded +couple. Grewgus was always engaged in fresh investigations, and the +case to which he had given so much time and attention had almost been +jostled out of his mind by fresh problems. +</p> + +<p> +Then one morning in the newspaper he read something that greatly +startled him and sent his thoughts travelling back to the strenuous +time when he had made that journey to Paris in pursuit of the woman +suspected to be Elise Makris. +</p> + +<p> +His eye caught sight of the headline. “Murder and suicide in a small +Devonshire village.” Two very clear portraits of the victim, a woman, +and the murderer who had shot himself after killing her, stared at him +from the pages of the newspapers. The woman was Elise Makris, to call +her by the first name under which he had known of her in these pages; +the man was Bertram Edwards. +</p> + +<p> +The report stated that a Mrs. Mayhew and her daughter Mrs. Baradine +had come to this village about a year ago, where they had purchased a +house of moderate size. They led a quiet and secluded life, only +mixing infrequently with the few neighbours of a respectable class +around them. Both women gave themselves out as widows. They attended +church regularly and visited at the Vicar’s house. Although little was +known about them, they had made a very favourable impression on +everybody with whom they had come in contact. The daughter was quite a +young woman and of remarkable beauty. +</p> + +<p> +No visitors except those in the immediate neighbourhood had ever been +known to enter their doors. But one day their comparative isolation +had been disturbed. According to the account of one of the two maids, +a handsome man about thirty with very urbane and courteous manners had +called and requested that his name should be taken in to the ladies. +The name he gave was Edwards. +</p> + +<p> +The mention of this name, when the maid took it in to the drawing-room +where the two women were seated, seemed to arouse consternation in +both mother and daughter. After a whispered conversation between the +two, Mrs. Baradine went into the hall and took the strange visitor to +her mother. The door of the room was closed, and the three sat +together for over an hour. At the end of that time, Mrs. Baradine went +out with the man Edwards and they did not return till it wanted a few +minutes to dinner. +</p> + +<p> +The visitor stayed the night, sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms at +the back of the house. He stopped on the next day. From a remark +dropped by Mrs. Mayhew to the maid after breakfast, she gathered that +Edwards was taking his departure on the following morning. During the +whole of his visit, the demeanour of both mother and daughter +exhibited symptoms of great depression and anxiety. +</p> + +<p> +They all dined together on the evening of the second day. After dinner +Mrs. Mayhew went out for a stroll, leaving Edwards and Mrs. Baradine +in the dining-room by themselves. The housemaid also went out, and the +rest of the story was finished by the other servant, the cook. +</p> + +<p> +This woman, very curious as to this strange visitor, admitted that +twice she went into the hall and listened at the dining-room door. The +second time she heard voices high in altercation, but could not gather +what was being said. Suddenly, as she sat in the kitchen, speculating +on what was taking place between her young mistress and the man +Edwards, a shot rang out, followed in a fraction of time by a second +one. Sensing that a tragedy had happened, she rushed into the room and +was confronted with a ghastly spectacle. Mrs. Baradine was lying on +the floor dead, and beside her Edwards with a bullet through his +brain. Screaming, she fled into the village in search of the local +constable, whom she brought back to the house. Five minutes after they +came back, Mrs. Mayhew returned from her walk and fainted at the awful +sight. +</p> + +<p> +Later on, the mother told her story. Mrs. Baradine was not a widow; +her real name was Edwards and she was the wife of the man who had +killed her, and who, realizing the impossibility of escape, destroyed +himself. Hers had been a most unhappy marriage, and, to escape from +her husband’s brutality, she had left him and hid herself, as she +fondly hoped, in this quiet Devonshire village under an assumed name. +</p> + +<p> +By some means he had tracked her down, and had visited her with the +view of obtaining her forgiveness of the past, and inducing her to +resume their married life. To his request she had returned an +obstinate refusal, in which he seemed to have acquiesced, as he +announced his intention of returning to London on the following day. +On the evening of the fatal day, Mrs. Mayhew had left them alone after +dinner, apparently on fairly amicable terms. She could only conjecture +that, during her absence, he had sought to alter her daughter’s +resolution, that high words had ensued, and that in the violence of +his passion he had first taken her life and then his own. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Mayhew, otherwise Madame Makris, was a clever woman and had told +her story well; she had kept out of it anything that would arouse +suspicions of the past. But Grewgus, with his knowledge, was able to +read between the lines. +</p> + +<p> +Edwards had felt his old criminal instincts rising within him. So long +a time had elapsed without any action being taken that he had +concluded the past was done with. To the successful accomplishment of +any future schemes, his wife was necessary. He had tracked her down to +this lonely Devonshire village, and used all his arts of persuasion to +induce her to return to him. A man of brutal and violent passions, he +had been maddened by her refusal, and in a fit of frenzy bordering on +delirium had killed her. +</p> + +<p> +After he had mastered the facts, Grewgus went round to Lydon’s office. +The young man knew what he had come for. He and Gloria had read the +same news at breakfast. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if she was wearing her mascot when he killed her?” said +Lydon in a musing tone. “It saved her from the consequences of her +lover’s bullet, but not from her husband’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“And so that is the end of three out of the four,” observed Grewgus in +the same thoughtful voice. “I wonder if Nemesis has yet overtaken that +gloomy miscreant, John Whitehouse, or if he is living somewhere a life +of smug respectability on his ill-gotten gains?” +</p> + +<p> +But that question has not been answered yet. For all that is known to +the contrary, John Whitehouse, as great a criminal as the others, may +be leading the life suggested by the detective. +</p> + +<p class="center mt1"> +THE END. +</p> + + +<h2> +TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES +</h2> + +<p> +Minor spelling inconsistencies (<i>e.g.</i> moneylender/money-lender, +note-book/note book, womenfolk/women-folk, etc.) have been preserved. +</p> + +<p class="noindent mt1"> +<b>Alterations to the text</b>: +</p> + +<p> +Abandon the use of drop-caps. +</p> + +<p> +Add ToC. +</p> + +<p> +Punctuation: a few missing/invisible periods. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter Two] +</p> + +<p> +Change “a gorgeous carved sapphire <i>make</i> into a pendant” to <i>made</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“very shortly after the <i>terribly</i> tragedy, with instructions” to +<i>terrible</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter Six] +</p> + +<p> +“on a considerable <i>snm</i> of money for its purchase” to <i>sum</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter Eleven] +</p> + +<p> +“The <i>Storments</i> had a small private sitting-room” to <i>Stormonts</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter Seventeen] +</p> + +<p> +“with something of a snarl in his <i>voiec</i>” to <i>voice</i>. +</p> + +<p class="center mt1"> +[End of text] +</p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75760 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/75760-h/images/cover.jpg b/75760-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..05d5f3e --- /dev/null +++ b/75760-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5dba15 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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