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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1814-0.txt b/1814-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..957acf2 --- /dev/null +++ b/1814-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3282 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Agony Column, by Earl Derr Biggers + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Agony Column + +Author: Earl Derr Biggers + +Posting Date: October 5, 2008 [EBook #1814] +Release Date: July, 1999 +Last Updated: November 1, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AGONY COLUMN *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer + + + + + +THE AGONY COLUMN + +by Earl Derr Biggers + + + +CHAPTER I + +Two years ago, in July, that historic summer was almost unbearably hot. +It seems, looking back, as though the big baking city in those days was +meant to serve as an anteroom of torture--an inadequate bit of +preparation for the hell that was soon to break in the guise of the +Great War. About the soda-water bar in the drug store near the Hotel +Cecil many American tourists found solace in the sirups and creams of +home. Through the open windows of the Piccadilly tea shops you might +catch glimpses of the English consuming quarts of hot tea in order to +become cool. It is a paradox they swear by. + +About nine o’clock on the morning of Friday, July twenty-fourth, in that +memorable year nineteen hundred and fourteen, Geoffrey West left his +apartments in Adelphi Terrace and set out for breakfast at the Carlton. +He had found the breakfast room of that dignified hotel the coolest +in London, and through some miracle, for the season had passed, +strawberries might still be had there. As he took his way through the +crowded Strand, surrounded on all sides by honest British faces wet +with honest British perspiration he thought longingly of his rooms in +Washington Square, New York. For West, despite the English sound of that +Geoffrey, was as American as Kansas, his native state, and only pressing +business was at that moment holding him in England, far from the country +that glowed unusually rosy because of its remoteness. + +At the Carlton news stand West bought two morning papers--the Times +for study and the Mail for entertainment and then passed on into the +restaurant. His waiter--a tall soldierly Prussian, more blond than West +himself--saw him coming and, with a nod and a mechanical German smile, +set out for the plate of strawberries which he knew would be the first +thing desired by the American. West seated himself at his usual table +and, spreading out the Daily Mail, sought his favorite column. The first +item in that column brought a delighted smile to his face: + +“The one who calls me Dearest is not genuine or they would write to me.” + +Any one at all familiar with English journalism will recognize at once +what department it was that appealed most to West. During his three +weeks in London he had been following, with the keenest joy, the daily +grist of Personal Notices in the Mail. This string of intimate +messages, popularly known as the Agony Column, has long been an honored +institution in the English press. In the days of Sherlock Holmes it +was in the Times that it flourished, and many a criminal was tracked +to earth after he had inserted some alluring mysterious message in it. +Later the Telegraph gave it room; but, with the advent of halfpenny +journalism, the simple souls moved en masse to the Mail. + +Tragedy and comedy mingle in the Agony Column. Erring ones are urged to +return for forgiveness; unwelcome suitors are warned that “Father has +warrant prepared; fly, Dearest One!” Loves that would shame by their +ardor Abelard and Heloise are frankly published--at ten cents a +word--for all the town to smile at. The gentleman in the brown derby +states with fervor that the blonde governess who got off the tram at +Shepherd’s Bush has quite won his heart. Will she permit his addresses? +Answer; this department. For three weeks West had found this sort of +thing delicious reading. Best of all, he could detect in these messages +nothing that was not open and innocent. At their worst they were merely +an effort to side-step old Lady Convention; this inclination was so +rare in the British, he felt it should be encouraged. Besides, he was +inordinately fond of mystery and romance, and these engaging twins +hovered always about that column. + + +So, while waiting for his strawberries, he smiled over the ungrammatical +outburst of the young lady who had come to doubt the genuineness of him +who called her Dearest. He passed on to the second item of the morning. +Spoke one whose heart had been completely conquered: + +MY LADY sleeps. She of raven tresses. Corner seat from Victoria, +Wednesday night. Carried program. Gentleman answering inquiry desires +acquaintance. Reply here. --LE ROI. + +West made a mental note to watch for the reply of raven tresses. The +next message proved to be one of Aye’s lyrics--now almost a daily +feature of the column: + +DEAREST: Tender loving wishes to my dear one. Only to be with you now +and always. None “fairer in my eyes.” Your name is music to me. I +love you more than life itself, my own beautiful darling, my proud +sweetheart, my joy, my all! Jealous of everybody. Kiss your dear hands +for me. Love you only. Thine ever. --AYE. + +Which, reflected West, was generous of Aye--at ten cents a word--and in +striking contrast to the penurious lover who wrote, farther along in the +column: + + --loveu dearly; wantocu; longing; missu-- + +But those extremely personal notices ran not alone to love. Mystery, +too, was present, especially in the aquatic utterance: + +DEFIANT MERMAID: Not mine. Alligators bitingu now. ‘Tis well; delighted. +--FIRST FISH. + +And the rather sanguinary suggestion: + +DE Box: First round; tooth gone. Finale. You will FORGET ME NOT. + +At this point West’s strawberries arrived and even the Agony Column +could not hold his interest. When the last red berry was eaten he turned +back to read: + +WATERLOO: Wed. 11:53 train. Lady who left in taxi and waved, care to +know gent, gray coat? --SINCERE. + +Also the more dignified request put forward in: + +GREAT CENTRAL: Gentleman who saw lady in bonnet 9 Monday morning in +Great Central Hotel lift would greatly value opportunity of obtaining +introduction. + +This exhausted the joys of the Agony Column for the day, and West, like +the solid citizen he really was, took up the Times to discover what +might be the morning’s news. A great deal of space was given to the +appointment of a new principal for Dulwich College. The affairs of the +heart, in which that charming creature, Gabrielle Ray, was at the moment +involved, likewise claimed attention. And in a quite unimportant corner, +in a most unimportant manner, it was related that Austria had sent an +ultimatum to Serbia. West had read part way through this stupid little +piece of news, when suddenly the Thunderer and all its works became an +uninteresting blur. + +A girl stood just inside the door of the Carlton breakfast room. + +Yes; he should have pondered that despatch from Vienna. But such a girl! +It adds nothing at all to say that her hair was a dull sort of gold; her +eyes violet. Many girls have been similarly blessed. It was her manner; +the sweet way she looked with those violet eyes through a battalion of +head waiters and resplendent managers; her air of being at home here +in the Carlton or anywhere else that fate might drop her down. +Unquestionably she came from oversea--from the States. + +She stepped forward into the restaurant. And now slipped also into +view, as part of the background for her, a middle-aged man, who wore the +conventional black of the statesman. He, too, bore the American label +unmistakably. Nearer and nearer to West she drew, and he saw that in her +hand she carried a copy of the Daily Mail. + +West’s waiter was a master of the art of suggesting that no table in the +room was worth sitting at save that at which he held ready a chair. Thus +he lured the girl and her companion to repose not five feet from where +West sat. This accomplished, he whipped out his order book, and stood +with pencil poised, like a reporter in an American play. + +“The strawberries are delicious,” he said in honeyed tones. + +The man looked at the girl, a question in his eyes. + +“Not for me, dad,” she said. “I hate them! Grapefruit, please.” + +As the waiter hurried past, West hailed him. He spoke in loud defiant +tones. + +“Another plate of the strawberries!” he commanded. “They are better than +ever to-day.” + +For a second, as though he were part of the scenery, those violet eyes +met his with a casual impersonal glance. Then their owner slowly spread +out her own copy of the Mail. + +“What’s the news?” asked the statesman, drinking deep from his glass of +water. + +“Don’t ask me,” the girl answered, without looking up. “I’ve found +something more entertaining than news. Do you know--the English papers +run humorous columns! Only they aren’t called that. They’re called +Personal Notices. And such notices!” She leaned across the table. +“Listen to this: ‘Dearest: Tender loving wishes to my dear one. Only to +be with you now and always. None “fairer in my eyes.”-- + +The man looked uncomfortably about him. “Hush!” he pleaded. “It doesn’t +sound very nice to me.” + +“Nice!” cried the girl. “Oh, but it is--quite nice. And so deliciously +open and aboveboard. ‘Your name is music to me. I love you more--’” + +“What do we see to-day?” put in her father hastily. + +“We’re going down to the City and have a look at the Temple. Thackeray +lived there once--and Oliver Goldsmith--” + +“All right--the Temple it is.” + +“Then the Tower of London. It’s full of the most romantic associations. +Especially the Bloody Tower, where those poor little princes were +murdered. Aren’t you thrilled?” + +“I am if you say so.” + +“You’re a dear! I promise not to tell the people back in Texas that you +showed any interest in kings and such--if you will show just a little. +Otherwise I’ll spread the awful news that you took off your hat when +King George went by.” + +The statesman smiled. West felt that he, who had no business to, was +smiling with him. + +The waiter returned, bringing grapefruit, and the strawberries West had +ordered. Without another look toward West, the girl put down her paper +and began her breakfasting. As often as he dared, however, West looked +at her. With patriotic pride he told himself: “Six months in Europe, and +the most beautiful thing I’ve seen comes from back home!” + +When he rose reluctantly twenty minutes later his two compatriots were +still at table, discussing their plans for the day. As is usual in such +cases, the girl arranged, the man agreed. + +With one last glance in her direction, West went out on the parched +pavement of Haymarket. + +Slowly he walked back to his rooms. Work was waiting there for him; +but instead of getting down to it, he sat on the balcony of his study, +gazing out on the courtyard that had been his chief reason for selecting +those apartments. Here, in the heart of the city, was a bit of the +countryside transported--the green, trim, neatly tailored countryside +that is the most satisfying thing in England. There were walls on which +the ivy climbed high, narrow paths that ran between blooming beds of +flowers, and opposite his windows a seldom-opened, most romantic gate. +As he sat looking down he seemed to see there below him the girl of the +Carlton. Now she sat on the rustic bench; now she bent above the envious +flowers; now she stood at the gate that opened out to a hot sudden bit +of the city. + +And as he watched her there in the garden she would never enter, as he +reflected unhappily that probably he would see her no more--the idea +came to him. + +At first he put it from him as absurd, impossible. She was, to apply a +fine word much abused, a lady; he supposedly a gentleman. Their sort +did not do such things. If he yielded to this temptation she would be +shocked, angry, and from him would slip that one chance in a thousand he +had--the chance of meeting her somewhere, some day. + +And yet--and yet--She, too, had found the Agony Column entertaining +and--quite nice. There was a twinkle in her eyes that bespoke a fondness +for romance. She was human, fun-loving--and, above all, the joy of youth +was in her heart. + +Nonsense! West went inside and walked the floor. The idea was +preposterous. Still--he smiled--it was filled with amusing +possibilities. Too bad he must put it forever away and settle down to +this stupid work! + +Forever away? Well-- + +On the next morning, which was Saturday, West did not breakfast at the +Carlton. The girl, however, did. As she and her father sat down the old +man said: “I see you’ve got your Daily Mail.” + +“Of course!” she answered. “I couldn’t do without it. Grapefruit--yes.” + +She began to read. Presently her cheeks flushed and she put the paper +down. + +“What is it?” asked the Texas statesman. + +“To-day,” she answered sternly, “you do the British Museum. You’ve put +it off long enough.” + +The old man sighed. Fortunately he did not ask to see the Mail. If he +had, a quarter way down the column of personal notices he would have +been enraged--or perhaps only puzzled--to read: + +CARLTON RESTAURANT: Nine A.M. Friday morning. Will the young woman who +preferred grapefruit to strawberries permit the young man who had two +plates of the latter to say he will not rest until he discovers some +mutual friend, that they may meet and laugh over this column together? + +Lucky for the young man who liked strawberries that his nerve had failed +him and he was not present at the Carlton that morning! He would +have been quite overcome to see the stern uncompromising look on the +beautiful face of a lady at her grapefruit. So overcome, in fact, that +he would probably have left the room at once, and thus not seen the +mischievous smile that came in time to the lady’s face--not seen that +she soon picked up the paper again and read, with that smile, to the end +of the column. + + + +CHAPTER II + +The next day was Sunday; hence it brought no Mail. Slowly it dragged +along. At a ridiculously early hour Monday morning Geoffrey West was on +the street, seeking his favorite newspaper. He found it, found the Agony +Column--and nothing else. Tuesday morning again he rose early, still +hopeful. Then and there hope died. The lady at the Carlton deigned no +reply. + +Well, he had lost, he told himself. He had staked all on this one bold +throw; no use. Probably if she thought of him at all it was to label him +a cheap joker, a mountebank of the halfpenny press. Richly he deserved +her scorn. + +On Wednesday he slept late. He was in no haste to look into the Daily +Mail; his disappointments of the previous days had been too keen. At +last, while he was shaving, he summoned Walters, the caretaker of the +building, and sent him out to procure a certain morning paper. + +Walters came back bearing rich treasure, for in the Agony Column of that +day West, his face white with lather, read joyously: + +STRAWBERRY MAN: Only the grapefruit lady’s kind heart and her great +fondness for mystery and romance move her to answer. The strawberry-mad +one may write one letter a day for seven days--to prove that he is an +interesting person, worth knowing. Then--we shall see. Address: M. A. +L., care Sadie Haight, Carlton Hotel. + +All day West walked on air, but with the evening came the problem of +those letters, on which depended, he felt, his entire future happiness. +Returning from dinner, he sat down at his desk near the windows that +looked out on his wonderful courtyard. The weather was still torrid, +but with the night had come a breeze to fan the hot cheek of London. It +gently stirred his curtains; rustled the papers on his desk. + +He considered. Should he at once make known the eminently respectable +person he was, the hopelessly respectable people he knew? Hardly! For +then, on the instant, like a bubble bursting, would go for good all +mystery and romance, and the lady of the grapefruit would lose all +interest and listen to him no more. He spoke solemnly to his rustling +curtains. + +“No,” he said. “We must have mystery and romance. But where--where shall +we find them?” + +On the floor above he heard the solid tramp of military boots belonging +to his neighbor, Captain Stephen Fraser-Freer, of the Twelfth Cavalry, +Indian Army, home on furlough from that colony beyond the seas. It was +from that room overhead that romance and mystery were to come in mighty +store; but Geoffrey West little suspected it at the moment. Hardly +knowing what to say, but gaining inspiration as he went along, he wrote +the first of seven letters to the lady at the Carlton. And the epistle +he dropped in the post box at midnight follows here: + +DEAR LADY OF THE GRAPEFRUIT: You are very kind. Also, you are wise. +Wise, because into my clumsy little Personal you read nothing that was +not there. You knew it immediately for what it was--the timid tentative +clutch of a shy man at the skirts of Romance in passing. Believe me, +old Conservatism was with me when I wrote that message. He was fighting +hard. He followed me, struggling, shrieking, protesting, to the post box +itself. But I whipped him. Glory be! I did for him. + +We are young but once, I told him. After that, what use to signal to +Romance? The lady at least, I said, will understand. He sneered at that. +He shook his silly gray head. I will admit he had me worried. But now +you have justified my faith in you. Thank you a million times for that! + +Three weeks I have been in this huge, ungainly, indifferent city, +longing for the States. Three weeks the Agony Column has been my sole +diversion. And then--through the doorway of the Carlton restaurant--you +came-- + +It is of myself that I must write, I know. I will not, then, tell you +what is in my mind--the picture of you I carry. It would mean little +to you. Many Texan gallants, no doubt, have told you the same while the +moon was bright above you and the breeze was softly whispering through +the branches of--the branches of the--of the-- + +Confound it, I don’t know! I have never been in Texas. It is a vice in +me I hope soon to correct. All day I intended to look up Texas in the +encyclopedia. But all day I have dwelt in the clouds. And there are no +reference books in the clouds. + +Now I am down to earth in my quiet study. Pens, ink and paper are before +me. I must prove myself a person worth knowing. + +From his rooms, they say, you can tell much about a man. But, +alas! these peaceful rooms in Adelphi Terrace--I shall not tell the +number--were sublet furnished. So if you could see me now you would be +judging me by the possessions left behind by one Anthony Bartholomew. +There is much dust on them. Judge neither Anthony nor me by that. +Judge rather Walters, the caretaker, who lives in the basement with his +gray-haired wife. Walters was a gardener once, and his whole life is +wrapped up in the courtyard on which my balcony looks down. There he +spends his time, while up above the dust gathers in the corners-- + +Does this picture distress you, my lady? You should see the courtyard! +You would not blame Walters then. It is a sample of Paradise left at +our door--that courtyard. As English as a hedge, as neat, as beautiful. +London is a roar somewhere beyond; between our court and the great city +is a magic gate, forever closed. It was the court that led me to take +these rooms. + +And, since you are one who loves mystery, I am going to relate to you +the odd chain of circumstances that brought me here. + +For the first link in that chain we must go back to Interlaken. Have +you been there yet? A quiet little town, lying beautiful between two +shimmering lakes, with the great Jungfrau itself for scenery. From the +dining-room of one lucky hotel you may look up at dinner and watch the +old-rose afterglow light the snow-capped mountain. You would not say +then of strawberries: “I hate them.” Or of anything else in all the +world. + +A month ago I was in Interlaken. One evening after dinner I strolled +along the main street, where all the hotels and shops are drawn up at +attention before the lovely mountain. In front of one of the shops I saw +a collection of walking sticks and, since I needed one for climbing, I +paused to look them over. I had been at this only a moment when a young +Englishman stepped up and also began examining the sticks. + +I had made a selection from the lot and was turning away to find +the shopkeeper, when the Englishman spoke. He was lean, +distinguished-looking, though quite young, and had that well-tubbed +appearance which I am convinced is the great factor that has enabled the +English to assert their authority over colonies like Egypt and India, +where men are not so thoroughly bathed. + +“Er--if you’ll pardon me, old chap,” he said. “Not that stick--if you +don’t mind my saying so. It’s not tough enough for mountain work. I +would suggest--” + +To say that I was astonished is putting it mildly. If you know the +English at all, you know it is not their habit to address strangers, +even under the most pressing circumstances. Yet here was one of that +haughty race actually interfering in my selection of a stick. I ended +by buying the one he preferred, and he strolled along with me in the +direction of my hotel, chatting meantime in a fashion far from British. + +We stopped at the Kursaal, where we listened to the music, had a drink +and threw away a few francs on the little horses. He came with me to the +veranda of my hotel. I was surprised, when he took his leave, to find +that he regarded me in the light of an old friend. He said he would call +on me the next morning. + +I made up my mind that Archibald Enwright--for that, he told me, was +his name--was an adventurer down on his luck, who chose to forget +his British exclusiveness under the stern necessity of getting money +somehow, somewhere. The next day, I decided, I should be the victim of a +touch. + +But my prediction failed; Enwright seemed to have plenty of money. On +that first evening I had mentioned to him that I expected shortly to be +in London, and he often referred to the fact. As the time approached +for me to leave Interlaken he began to throw out the suggestion that he +should like to have me meet some of his people in England. This, also, +was unheard of--against all precedent. + +Nevertheless, when I said good-by to him he pressed into my hand a +letter of introduction to his cousin, Captain Stephen Fraser-Freer, of +the Twelfth Cavalry, Indian Army, who, he said, would be glad to make +me at home in London, where he was on furlough at the time--or would be +when I reached there. + +“Stephen’s a good sort,” said Enwright. “He’ll be jolly pleased to show +you the ropes. Give him my best, old boy!” + +Of course I took the letter. But I puzzled greatly over the affair. +What could be the meaning of this sudden warm attachment that Archie had +formed for me? Why should he want to pass me along to his cousin at a +time when that gentleman, back home after two years in India, would +be, no doubt, extremely busy? I made up my mind I would not present the +letter, despite the fact that Archie had with great persistence wrung +from me a promise to do so. I had met many English gentlemen, and I +felt they were not the sort--despite the example of Archie--to take a +wandering American to their bosoms when he came with a mere letter. By +easy stages I came on to London. Here I met a friend, just sailing for +home, who told me of some sad experiences he had had with letters +of introduction--of the cold, fishy, +“My-dear-fellow-why-trouble-me-with-it?” stares that had greeted their +presentation. Good-hearted men all, he said, but averse to strangers; an +ever-present trait in the English--always excepting Archie. + +So I put the letter to Captain Fraser-Freer out of my mind. I had +business acquaintances here and a few English friends, and I found +these, as always, courteous and charming. But it is to my advantage to +meet as many people as may be, and after drifting about for a week I set +out one afternoon to call on my captain. I told myself that here was an +Englishman who had perhaps thawed a bit in the great oven of India. If +not, no harm would be done. + +It was then that I came for the first time to this house on Adelphi +Terrace, for it was the address Archie had given me. Walters let me in, +and I learned from him that Captain Fraser-Freer had not yet arrived +from India. His rooms were ready--he had kept them during his absence, +as seems to be the custom over here--and he was expected soon. +Perhaps--said Walters--his wife remembered the date. He left me in the +lower hall while he went to ask her. + +Waiting, I strolled to the rear of the hall. And then, through an open +window that let in the summer, I saw for the first time that courtyard +which is my great love in London--the old ivy-covered walls of brick; +the neat paths between the blooming beds; the rustic seat; the magic +gate. It was incredible that just outside lay the world’s biggest city, +with all its poverty and wealth, its sorrows and joys, its roar and +rattle. Here was a garden for Jane Austen to people with fine ladies +and courtly gentlemen--here was a garden to dream in, to adore and to +cherish. + +When Walters came back to tell me that his wife was uncertain as to the +exact date when the captain would return, I began to rave about that +courtyard. At once he was my friend. I had been looking for quiet +lodgings away from the hotel, and I was delighted to find that on the +second floor, directly under the captain’s rooms, there was a suite to +be sublet. + +Walters gave me the address of the agents; and, after submitting to an +examination that could not have been more severe if I had asked for the +hand of the senior partner’s daughter, they let me come here to live. +The garden was mine! + +And the captain? Three days after I arrived I heard above me, for the +first time, the tread of his military boots. Now again my courage began +to fail. I should have preferred to leave Archie’s letter lying in +my desk and know my neighbor only by his tread above me. I felt that +perhaps I had been presumptuous in coming to live in the same house with +him. But I had represented myself to Walters as an acquaintance of the +captain’s and the caretaker had lost no time in telling me that “my +friend” was safely home. + +So one night, a week ago, I got up my nerve and went to the captain’s +rooms. I knocked. He called to me to enter and I stood in his study, +facing him. He was a tall handsome man, fair-haired, mustached--the +very figure that you, my lady, in your boarding-school days, would have +wished him to be. His manner, I am bound to admit, was not cordial. + +“Captain,” I began, “I am very sorry to intrude--” It wasn’t the thing +to say, of course, but I was fussed. “However, I happen to be a neighbor +of yours, and I have here a letter of introduction from your cousin, +Archibald Enwright. I met him in Interlaken and we became very good +friends.” + +“Indeed!” said the captain. + +He held out his hand for the letter, as though it were evidence at +a court-martial. I passed it over, wishing I hadn’t come. He read it +through. It was a long letter, considering its nature. While I waited, +standing by his desk--he hadn’t asked me to sit down--I looked about +the room. It was much like my own study, only I think a little dustier. +Being on the third floor it was farther from the garden, consequently +Walters reached there seldom. + +The captain turned back and began to read the letter again. This was +decidedly embarrassing. Glancing down, I happened to see on his desk +an odd knife, which I fancy he had brought from India. The blade was +of steel, dangerously sharp, the hilt of gold, carved to represent some +heathen figure. + +Then the captain looked up from Archie’s letter and his cold gaze fell +full upon me. + +“My dear fellow,” he said, “to the best of my knowledge, I have no +cousin named Archibald Enwright.” + +A pleasant situation, you must admit! It’s bad enough when you come +to them with a letter from their mother, but here was I in this +Englishman’s rooms, boldly flaunting in his face a warm note of +commendation from a cousin who did not exist! + +“I owe you an apology,” I said. I tried to be as haughty as he, and fell +short by about two miles. “I brought the letter in good faith.” + +“No doubt of that,” he answered. + +“Evidently it was given me by some adventurer for purposes of his own,” + I went on; “though I am at a loss to guess what they could have been.” + +“I’m frightfully sorry--really,” said he. But he said it with the London +inflection, which plainly implies: “I’m nothing of the sort.” + +A painful pause. I felt that he ought to give me back the letter; but he +made no move to do so. And, of course, I didn’t ask for it. + +“Ah--er--good night,” said I and hurried toward the door. + +“Good night,” he answered, and I left him standing there with Archie’s +accursed letter in his hand. + +That is the story of how I came to this house in Adelphi Terrace. There +is mystery in it, you must admit, my lady. Once or twice since that +uncomfortable call I have passed the captain on the stairs; but the +halls are very dark, and for that I am grateful. I hear him often above +me; in fact, I hear him as I write this. + +Who was Archie? What was the idea? I wonder. + +Ah, well, I have my garden, and for that I am indebted to Archie the +garrulous. It is nearly midnight now. The roar of London has died away +to a fretful murmur, and somehow across this baking town a breeze has +found its way. It whispers over the green grass, in the ivy that climbs +my wall, in the soft murky folds of my curtains. Whispers--what? + +Whispers, perhaps, the dreams that go with this, the first of my letters +to you. They are dreams that even I dare not whisper yet. + +And so--good night. + +THE STRAWBERRY MAN. + + + +CHAPTER III + +With a smile that betrayed unusual interest, the daughter of the Texas +statesman read that letter on Thursday morning in her room at the +Carlton. There was no question about it--the first epistle from the +strawberry-mad one had caught and held her attention. All day, as she +dragged her father through picture galleries, she found herself looking +forward to another morning, wondering, eager. + +But on the following morning Sadie Haight, the maid through whom this +odd correspondence was passing, had no letter to deliver. The news +rather disappointed the daughter of Texas. At noon she insisted on +returning to the hotel for luncheon, though, as her father pointed out, +they were far from the Carlton at the time. Her journey was rewarded. +Letter number two was waiting; and as she read she gasped. + +DEAR LADY AT THE CARLTON: I am writing this at three in the morning, +with London silent as the grave, beyond our garden. That I am so late in +getting to it is not because I did not think of you all day yesterday; +not because I did not sit down at my desk at seven last evening to +address you. Believe me, only the most startling, the most appalling +accident could have held me up. + +That most startling, most appalling accident has happened. + +I am tempted to give you the news at once in one striking and terrible +sentence. And I could write that sentence. A tragedy, wrapped in mystery +as impenetrable as a London fog, has befallen our quiet little house in +Adelphi Terrace. In their basement room the Walters family, sleepless, +overwhelmed, sit silent; on the dark stairs outside my door I hear at +intervals the tramp of men on unhappy missions--But no; I must go back +to the very start of it all: + +Last night I had an early dinner at Simpson’s, in the Strand--so early +that I was practically alone in the restaurant. The letter I was about +to write to you was uppermost in my mind and, having quickly dined, I +hurried back to my rooms. I remember clearly that, as I stood in the +street before our house fumbling for my keys, Big Ben on the Parliament +Buildings struck the hour of seven. The chime of the great bell rang out +in our peaceful thoroughfare like a loud and friendly greeting. + +Gaining my study, I sat down at once to write. Over my head I could +hear Captain Fraser-Freer moving about--attiring himself, probably, for +dinner. I was thinking, with an amused smile, how horrified he would be +if he knew that the crude American below him had dined at the impossible +hour of six, when suddenly I heard, in that room above me, some stranger +talking in a harsh determined tone. Then came the captain’s answering +voice, calmer, more dignified. This conversation went along for some +time, growing each moment more excited. Though I could not distinguish a +word of it, I had the uncomfortable feeling that there was a controversy +on; and I remember feeling annoyed that any one should thus interfere +with my composition of your letter, which I regarded as most important, +you may be sure. + +At the end of five minutes of argument there came the heavy thump-thump +of men struggling above me. It recalled my college days, when we used +to hear the fellows in the room above us throwing each other about in +an excess of youth and high spirits. But this seemed more grim, more +determined, and I did not like it.--However, I reflected that it was +none of my business. I tried to think about my letter. + +The struggle ended with a particularly heavy thud that shook our ancient +house to its foundations. I sat listening, somehow very much depressed. +There was no sound. It was not entirely dark outside--the long +twilight--and the frugal Walters had not lighted the hall lamps. +Somebody was coming down the stairs very quietly--but their creaking +betrayed him. I waited for him to pass through the shaft of light that +poured from the door open at my back. At that moment Fate intervened in +the shape of a breeze through my windows, the door banged shut, and a +heavy man rushed by me in the darkness and ran down the stairs. I knew +he was heavy, because the passageway was narrow and he had to push me +aside to get by. I heard him swear beneath his breath. + +Quickly I went to a hall window at the far end that looked out on the +street. But the front door did not open; no one came out. I was puzzled +for a second; then I reentered my room and hurried to my balcony. I +could make out the dim figure of a man running through the garden at +the rear--that garden of which I have so often spoken. He did not try +to open the gate; he climbed it, and so disappeared from sight into the +alley. + +For a moment I considered. These were odd actions, surely; but was it my +place to interfere? I remembered the cold stare in the eyes of Captain +Fraser-Freer when I presented that letter. I saw him standing motionless +in his murky study, as amiable as a statue. Would he welcome an +intrusion from me now? + +Finally I made up my mind to forget these things and went down to find +Walters. He and his wife were eating their dinner in the basement. I +told him what had happened. He said he had let no visitor in to see the +captain, and was inclined to view my misgivings with a cold British eye. +However, I persuaded him to go with me to the captain’s rooms. + +The captain’s door was open. Remembering that in England the way of the +intruder is hard, I ordered Walters to go first. He stepped into the +room, where the gas flickered feebly in an aged chandelier. + +“My God, sir!” said Walters, a servant even now. + +And at last I write that sentence: Captain Fraser-Freer of the Indian +Army lay dead on the floor, a smile that was almost a sneer on his +handsome English face! + +The horror of it is strong with me now as I sit in the silent morning in +this room of mine which is so like the one in which the captain died. He +had been stabbed just over the heart, and my first thought was of that +odd Indian knife which I had seen lying on his study table. I turned +quickly to seek it, but it was gone. And as I looked at the table +it came to me that here in this dusty room there must be finger +prints--many finger prints. + +The room was quite in order, despite those sounds of struggle. One or +two odd matters met my eye. On the table stood a box from a florist in +Bond Street. The lid had been removed and I saw that the box contained +a number of white asters. Beside the box lay a scarf-pin--an emerald +scarab. And not far from the captain’s body lay what is known--owing to +the German city where it is made--as a Homburg hat. + +I recalled that it is most important at such times that nothing be +disturbed, and I turned to old Walters. His face was like this paper on +which I write; his knees trembled beneath him. + +“Walters,” said I, “we must leave things just as they are until the +police arrive. Come with me while I notify Scotland Yard.” + +“Very good, sir,” said Walters. + +We went down then to the telephone in the lower hall, and I called up +the Yard. I was told that an inspector would come at once and I went +back to my room to wait for him. + +You can well imagine the feelings that were mine as I waited. Before +this mystery should be solved, I foresaw that I might be involved to a +degree that was unpleasant if not dangerous. Walters would remember that +I first came here as one acquainted with the captain. He had noted, I +felt sure, the lack of intimacy between the captain and myself, once +the former arrived from India. He would no doubt testify that I had been +most anxious to obtain lodgings in the same house with Fraser-Freer. +Then there was the matter of my letter from Archie. I must keep that +secret, I felt sure. Lastly, there was not a living soul to back me up +in my story of the quarrel that preceded the captain’s death, of the man +who escaped by way of the garden. + +Alas, thought I, even the most stupid policeman can not fail to look +upon me with the eye of suspicion! + +In about twenty minutes three men arrived from Scotland Yard. By that +time I had worked myself up into a state of absurd nervousness. I heard +Walters let them in; heard them climb the stairs and walk about in the +room overhead. In a short time Walters knocked at my door and told me +that Chief Inspector Bray desired to speak to me. As I preceded the +servant up the stairs I felt toward him as an accused murderer must feel +toward the witness who has it in his power to swear his life away. + +He was a big active man--Bray; blond as are so many Englishmen. His +every move spoke efficiency. Trying to act as unconcerned as an innocent +man should--but failing miserably, I fear--I related to him my story +of the voices, the struggle, and the heavy man who had got by me in the +hall and later climbed our gate. He listened without comment. At the end +he said: + +“You were acquainted with the captain?” + +“Slightly,” I told him. Archie’s letter kept popping into my mind, +frightening me. “I had just met him--that is all; through a friend of +his--Archibald Enwright was the name.” + +“Is Enwright in London to vouch for you?” + +“I’m afraid not. I last heard of him in Interlaken.” + +“Yes? How did you happen to take rooms in this house?” + +“The first time I called to see the captain he had not yet arrived from +India. I was looking for lodgings and I took a great fancy to the garden +here.” + +It sounded silly, put like that. I wasn’t surprised that the inspector +eyed me with scorn. But I rather wished he hadn’t. + +Bray began to walk about the room, ignoring me. + +“White asters; scarab pin; Homburg hat,” he detailed, pausing before the +table where those strange exhibits lay. + +A constable came forward carrying newspapers in his hand. + +“What is it?” Bray asked. + +“The Daily Mail, sir,” said the constable. “The issues of July +twenty-seventh, twenty-eighth, twenty-ninth and thirtieth.” + +Bray took the papers in his hand, glanced at them and tossed them +contemptuously into a waste-basket. He turned to Walters. + +“Sorry, sir,” said Walters; “but I was so taken aback! Nothing like this +has ever happened to me before. I’ll go at once--” + +“No,” replied Bray sharply. “Never mind. I’ll attend to it--” + +There was a knock at the door. Bray called “Come!” and a slender boy, +frail but with a military bearing, entered. + +“Hello, Walters!” he said, smiling. “What’s up? I-” + +He stopped suddenly as his eyes fell upon the divan where Fraser-Freer +lay. In an instant he was at the dead man’s side. + +“Stephen!” he cried in anguish. + +“Who are you?” demanded the inspector--rather rudely, I thought. + +“It’s the captain’s brother, sir,” put in Walters. “Lieutenant Norman +Fraser-Freer, of the Royal Fusiliers.” + +There fell a silence. + +“A great calamity, sir--” began Walters to the boy. + +I have rarely seen any one so overcome as young Fraser-Freer. Watching +him, it seemed to me that the affection existing between him and the man +on the divan must have been a beautiful thing. He turned away from his +brother at last, and Walters sought to give him some idea of what had +happened. + +“You will pardon me, gentlemen,” said the lieutenant. “This has been a +terrible shock! I didn’t dream, of course--I just dropped in for a word +with--with him. And now--” + +We said nothing. We let him apologize, as a true Englishman must, for +his public display of emotion. + +“I’m sorry,” Bray remarked in a moment, his eyes still shifting about +the room--“especially as England may soon have great need of men like +the captain. Now, gentlemen, I want to say this: I am the Chief of the +Special Branch at the Yard. This is no ordinary murder. For reasons +I can not disclose--and, I may add, for the best interests of the +empire--news of the captain’s tragic death must be kept for the present +out of the newspapers. I mean, of course, the manner of his going. A +mere death notice, you understand--the inference being that it was a +natural taking off.” + +“I understand,” said the lieutenant, as one who knows more than he +tells. + +“Thank you,” said Bray. “I shall leave you to attend to the matter, as +far as your family is concerned. You will take charge of the body. As +for the rest of you, I forbid you to mention this matter outside.” + +And now Bray stood looking, with a puzzled air, at me. + +“You are an American?” he said, and I judged he did not care for +Americans. + +“I am,” I told him. + +“Know any one at your consulate?” he demanded. + +Thank heaven, I did! There is an under-secretary there named Watson--I +went to college with him. I mentioned him to Bray. + +“Very good,” said the inspector. “You are free to go. But you must +understand that you are an important witness in this case, and if you +attempt to leave London you will be locked up.” + +So I came back to my rooms, horribly entangled in a mystery that is +little to my liking. I have been sitting here in my study for some time, +going over it again and again. There have been many footsteps on the +stairs, many voices in the hall. + +Waiting here for the dawn, I have come to be very sorry for the cold +handsome captain. After all, he was a man; his very tread on the floor +above, which it shall never hear again, told me that. + +What does it all mean? Who was the man in the hall, the man who had +argued so loudly, who had struck so surely with that queer Indian knife? +Where is the knife now? + +And, above all, what do the white asters signify? And the scarab +scarf-pin? And that absurd Homburg hat? + +Lady of the Carlton, you wanted mystery. When I wrote that first letter +to you, little did I dream that I should soon have it to give you in +overwhelming measure. + +And--believe me when I say it--through all this your face has been +constantly before me--your face as I saw it that bright morning in the +hotel breakfast room. You have forgiven me, I know, for the manner +in which I addressed you. I had seen your eyes and the temptation was +great--very great. + +It is dawn in the garden now and London is beginning to stir. So this +time it is--good morning, my lady. + +THE STRAWBERRY MAN. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +It is hardly necessary to intimate that this letter came as something of +a shock to the young woman who received it. For the rest of that day the +many sights of London held little interest for her--so little, indeed, +that her perspiring father began to see visions of his beloved Texas; +and once hopefully suggested an early return home. The coolness with +which this idea was received plainly showed him that he was on the wrong +track; so he sighed and sought solace at the bar. + +That night the two from Texas attended His Majesty’s Theater, where +Bernard Shaw’s latest play was being performed; and the witty Irishman +would have been annoyed to see the scant attention one lovely young +American in the audience gave his lines. The American in question +retired at midnight, with eager thoughts turned toward the morning. + +And she was not disappointed. When her maid, a stolid Englishwoman, +appeared at her bedside early Saturday she carried a letter, which +she handed over, with the turned-up nose of one who aids but does not +approve. Quickly the girl tore it open. + +DEAR Texas LADY: I am writing this late in the afternoon. The sun is +casting long black shadows on the garden lawn, and the whole world is +so bright and matter-of-fact I have to argue with myself to be convinced +that the events of that tragic night through which I passed really +happened. + +The newspapers this morning helped to make it all seem a dream; not a +line--not a word, that I can find. When I think of America, and how +by this time the reporters would be swarming through our house if this +thing had happened over there, I am the more astonished. But then, I +know these English papers. The great Joe Chamberlain died the other +night at ten, and it was noon the next day when the first paper to carry +the story appeared--screaming loudly that it had scored a beat. It had. +Other lands, other methods. + +It was probably not difficult for Bray to keep journalists such as these +in the dark. So their great ungainly sheets come out in total ignorance +of a remarkable story in Adelphi Terrace. Famished for real news, they +begin to hint at a huge war cloud on the horizon. Because tottering +Austria has declared war on tiny Serbia, because the Kaiser is to-day +hurrying, with his best dramatic effect, home to Berlin, they see all +Europe shortly bathed in blood. A nightmare born of torrid days and +tossing nights! + +But it is of the affair in Adelphi Terrace that you no doubt want to +hear. One sequel of the tragedy, which adds immeasurably to the mystery +of it all, has occurred, and I alone am responsible for its discovery. +But to go back: + +I returned from mailing your letter at dawn this morning, very tired +from the tension of the night. I went to bed, but could not sleep. +More and more it was preying on my mind that I was in a most unhappy +position. I had not liked the looks cast at me by Inspector Bray, or his +voice when he asked how I came to live in this house. I told myself +I should not be safe until the real murderer of the poor captain +was found; and so I began to puzzle over the few clues in the +case--especially over the asters, the scarab pin and the Homburg hat. + +It was then I remembered the four copies of the Daily Mail that Bray had +casually thrown into the waste-basket as of no interest. I had glanced +over his shoulder as he examined these papers, and had seen that each of +them was folded so that our favorite department--the Agony Column--was +uppermost. It happened I had in my desk copies of the Mail for the past +week. You will understand why. + +I rose, found those papers, and began to read. It was then that I made +the astounding discovery to which I have alluded. + +For a time after making it I was dumb with amazement, so that no course +of action came readily to mind. In the end I decided that the thing for +me to do was to wait for Bray’s return in the morning and then point out +to him the error he had made in ignoring the Mail. + +Bray came in about eight o’clock and a few minutes later I heard +another man ascend the stairs. I was shaving at the time, but I quickly +completed the operation and, slipping on a bathrobe, hurried up to the +captain’s rooms. The younger brother had seen to the removal of the +unfortunate man’s body in the night, and, aside from Bray and the +stranger who had arrived almost simultaneously with him, there was no +one but a sleepy-eyed constable there. + +Bray’s greeting was decidedly grouchy. The stranger, however--a tall +bronzed man--made himself known to me in the most cordial manner. He +told me he was Colonel Hughes, a close friend of the dead man; and that, +unutterably shocked and grieved, he had come to inquire whether there +was anything he might do. “Inspector,” said I, “last night in this room +you held in your hand four copies of the Daily Mail. You tossed them +into that basket as of no account. May I suggest that you rescue those +copies, as I have a rather startling matter to make clear to you?” + Too grand an official to stoop to a waste-basket, he nodded to the +constable. The latter brought the papers; and, selecting one from the +lot, I spread it out on the table. “The issue of July twenty-seventh,” I +said. + +I pointed to an item half-way down the column of Personal Notices. You +yourself, my lady, may read it there if you happen to have saved a copy. +It ran as follows: + +“RANGOON: The asters are in full bloom in the garden at Canterbury. They +are very beautiful--especially the white ones.” + +Bray grunted, and opened his little eyes. I took up the issue of the +following day--the twenty-eighth: + +“RANGOON: We have been forced to sell father’s stick-pin--the emerald +scarab he brought home from Cairo.” + +I had Bray’s interest now. He leaned heavily toward me, puffing. Greatly +excited, I held before his eyes the issue of the twenty-ninth: + +“RANGOON: Homburg hat gone forever--caught by a breeze--into the river.” + +“And finally,” said I to the inspector, “the last message of all, in the +issue of the thirtieth of July--on sale in the streets some twelve hours +before Fraser-Freer was murdered. See!” + +“RANGOON: To-night at ten. Regent Street. --Y.O.G.” + +Bray was silent. + +“I take it you are aware, Inspector,” I said, “that for the past two +years Captain Fraser-Freer was stationed at Rangoon.” + +Still he said nothing; just looked at me with those foxy little eyes +that I was coming to detest. At last he spoke sharply: + +“Just how,” he demanded, “did you happen to discover those messages? You +were not in this room last night after I left?” He turned angrily to the +constable. “I gave orders--” + +“No,” I put in; “I was not in this room. I happened to have on file in +my rooms copies of the Mail, and by the merest chance--” + +I saw that I had blundered. Undoubtedly my discovery of those messages +was too pat. Once again suspicion looked my way. + +“Thank you very much,” said Bray. “I’ll keep this in mind.” + +“Have you communicated with my friend at the consulate?” I asked. + +“Yes. That’s all. Good morning.” + +So I went. + +I had been back in my room some twenty minutes when there came a knock +on the door, and Colonel Hughes entered. He was a genial man, in the +early forties I should say, tanned by some sun not English, and gray at +the temples. + +“My dear sir,” he said without preamble, “this is a most appalling +business!” + +“Decidedly,” I answered. “Will you sit down?” + +“Thank you.” He sat and gazed frankly into my eyes. “Policemen,” he +added meaningly, “are a most suspicious tribe--often without reason. I +am sorry you happen to be involved in this affair, for I may say that +I fancy you to be exactly what you seem. May I add that, if you should +ever need a friend, I am at your service?” + +I was touched; I thanked him as best I could. His tone was so +sympathetic and before I realized it I was telling him the whole +story--of Archie and his letter; of my falling in love with a garden; of +the startling discovery that the captain had never heard of his cousin; +and of my subsequent unpleasant position. He leaned back in his chair +and closed his eyes. + +“I suppose,” he said, “that no man ever carries an unsealed letter of +introduction without opening it to read just what praises have been +lavished upon him. It is human nature--I have done it often. May I make +so bold as to inquire--” + +“Yes,” said I. “It was unsealed and I did read it. Considering its +purpose, it struck me as rather long. There were many warm words for +me--words beyond all reason in view of my brief acquaintance with +Enwright. I also recall that he mentioned how long he had been in +Interlaken, and that he said he expected to reach London about the first +of August.” + +“The first of August,” repeated the colonel. “That is to-morrow. Now--if +you’ll be so kind--just what happened last night?” + +Again I ran over the events of that tragic evening--the quarrel; the +heavy figure in the hall; the escape by way of the seldom-used gate. + +“My boy,” said Colonel Hughes as he rose to go, “the threads of this +tragedy stretch far--some of them to India; some to a country I will not +name. I may say frankly that I have other and greater interest in the +matter than that of the captain’s friend. For the present that is in +strict confidence between us; the police are well-meaning, but they +sometimes blunder. Did I understand you to say that you have copies of +the Mail containing those odd messages?” + +“Right here in my desk,” said I. I got them for him. + +“I think I shall take them--if I may,” he said. “You will, of course, +not mention this little visit of mine. We shall meet again. Good +morning.” + +And he went away, carrying those papers with their strange signals to +Rangoon. + +Somehow I feel wonderfully cheered by his call. For the first time since +seven last evening I begin to breathe freely again. + +And so, lady who likes mystery, the matter stands on the afternoon of +the last day of July, nineteen hundred and fourteen. + +I shall mail you this letter to-night. It is my third to you, and it +carries with it three times the dreams that went with the first; for +they are dreams that live not only at night, when the moon is on the +courtyard, but also in the bright light of day. + +Yes--I am remarkably cheered. I realize that I have not eaten at +all--save a cup of coffee from the trembling hand of Walters--since +last night, at Simpson’s. I am going now to dine. I shall begin with +grapefruit. I realize that I am suddenly very fond of grapefruit. + +How bromidic to note it--we have many tastes in common! + +EX-STRAWBERRY MAN. + + +The third letter from her correspondent of the Agony Column increased +in the mind of the lovely young woman at the Carlton the excitement and +tension the second had created. For a long time, on the Saturday morning +of its receipt, she sat in her room puzzling over the mystery of +the house in Adelphi Terrace. When first she had heard that Captain +Fraser-Freer, of the Indian Army, was dead of a knife wound over the +heart, the news had shocked her like that of the loss of some old +and dear friend. She had desired passionately the apprehension of his +murderer, and had turned over and over in her mind the possibilities of +white asters, a scarab pin and a Homburg hat. + +Perhaps the girl longed for the arrest of the guilty man thus keenly +because this jaunty young friend of hers--a friend whose name she did +not know--to whom, indeed, she had never spoken--was so dangerously +entangled in the affair. For, from what she knew of Geoffrey West, from +her casual glance in the restaurant and, far more, from his letters, she +liked him extremely. + +And now came his third letter, in which he related the connection of +that hat, that pin and those asters with the column in the Mail which +had first brought them together. As it happened, she, too, had copies +of the paper for the first four days of the week. She went to her +sitting-room, unearthed these copies, and--gasped! For from the +column in Monday’s paper stared up at her the cryptic words to Rangoon +concerning asters in a garden at Canterbury. In the other three issues +as well, she found the identical messages her strawberry man had quoted. +She sat for a moment in deep thought; sat, in fact, until at her door +came the enraged knocking of a hungry parent who had been waiting a full +hour in the lobby below for her to join him at breakfast. + +“Come, come!” boomed her father, entering at her invitation. “Don’t sit +here all day mooning. I’m hungry if you’re not.” + +With quick apologies she made ready to accompany him down-stairs. +Firmly, as she planned their campaign for the day, she resolved to put +from her mind all thought of Adelphi Terrace. How well she succeeded +may be judged from a speech made by her father that night just before +dinner: + +“Have you lost your tongue, Marian? You’re as uncommunicative as a +newly-elected office-holder. If you can’t get a little more life into +these expeditions of ours we’ll pack up and head for home.” + +She smiled, patted his shoulder and promised to improve. But he appeared +to be in a gloomy mood. + +“I believe we ought to go, anyhow,” he went on. “In my opinion this war +is going to spread like a prairie fire. The Kaiser got back to Berlin +yesterday. He’ll sign the mobilization orders to-day as sure as fate. +For the past week, on the Berlin Bourse, Canadian Pacific stock has been +dropping. That means they expect England to come in.” + +He gazed darkly into the future. It may seem that, for an American +statesman, he had an unusual grasp of European politics. This is easily +explained by the fact that he had been talking with the bootblack at the +Carlton Hotel. + +“Yes,” he said with sudden decision, “I’ll go down to the steamship +offices early Monday morning.” + + + +CHAPTER V + +His daughter heard these words with a sinking heart. She had a most +unhappy picture of herself boarding a ship and sailing out of Liverpool +or Southampton, leaving the mystery that so engrossed her thoughts +forever unsolved. Wisely she diverted her father’s thoughts toward +the question of food. She had heard, she said, that Simpson’s, in the +Strand, was an excellent place to dine. They would go there, and walk. +She suggested a short detour that would carry them through Adelphi +Terrace. It seemed she had always wanted to see Adelphi Terrace. + +As they passed through that silent Street she sought to guess, from an +inspection of the grim forbidding house fronts, back of which lay the +lovely garden, the romantic mystery. But the houses were so very much +like one another. Before one of them, she noted, a taxi waited. + +After dinner her father pleaded for a music-hall as against what he +called “some highfaluting, teacup English play.” He won. Late that +night, as they rode back to the Carlton, special editions were being +proclaimed in the streets. Germany was mobilizing! + +The girl from Texas retired, wondering what epistolary surprise the +morning would bring forth. It brought forth this: + +DEAR DAUGHTER OF THE SENATE: Or is it Congress? I could not quite +decide. But surely in one or the other of those august bodies your +father sits when he is not at home in Texas or viewing Europe through +his daughter’s eyes. One look at him and I had gathered that. + +But Washington is far from London, isn’t it? And it is London that +interests us most--though father’s constituents must not know that. It +is really a wonderful, an astounding city, once you have got the feel of +the tourist out of your soul. I have been reading the most enthralling +essays on it, written by a newspaper man who first fell desperately +in love with it at seven--an age when the whole glittering town was +symbolized for him by the fried-fish shop at the corner of the High +Street. With him I have been going through its gray and furtive +thoroughfares in the dead of night, and sometimes we have kicked an +ash-barrel and sometimes a romance. Some day I might show that London +to you--guarding you, of course, from the ash-barrels, if you are that +kind. On second thoughts, you aren’t. But I know that it is of Adelphi +Terrace and a late captain in the Indian Army that you want to hear now. +Yesterday, after my discovery of those messages in the Mail and the call +of Captain Hughes, passed without incident. Last night I mailed you my +third letter, and after wandering for a time amid the alternate glare +and gloom of the city, I went back to my rooms and smoked on my balcony +while about me the inmates of six million homes sweltered in the heat. +Nothing happened. I felt a bit disappointed, a bit cheated, as one might +feel on the first night spent at home after many successive visits to +exciting plays. To-day, the first of August dawned, and still all was +quiet. Indeed, it was not until this evening that further developments +in the sudden death of Captain Fraser-Freer arrived to disturb me. These +developments are strange ones surely, and I shall hasten to relate them. + +I dined to-night at a little place in Soho. My waiter was Italian, and +on him I amused myself with the Italian in Ten Lessons of which I am +foolishly proud. We talked of Fiesole, where he had lived. Once I rode +from Fiesole down the hill to Florence in the moonlight. I remember +endless walls on which hung roses, fresh and blooming. I remember a +gaunt nunnery and two-gray-robed sisters clanging shut the gates. +I remember the searchlight from the military encampment, playing +constantly over the Arno and the roofs--the eye of Mars that, here in +Europe, never closes. And always the flowers nodding above me, stooping +now and then to brush my face. I came to think that at the end Paradise, +and not a second-rate hotel, was waiting. One may still take that ride, +I fancy. Some day--some day-- + +I dined in Soho. I came back to Adelphi Terrace in the hot, reeking +August dusk, reflecting that the mystery in which I was involved was, +after a fashion, standing still. In front of our house I noticed a taxi +waiting. I thought nothing of it as I entered the murky hallway and +climbed the familiar stairs. + +My door stood open. It was dark in my study, save for the reflection of +the lights of London outside. As I crossed the threshold there came to +my nostrils the faint sweet perfume of lilacs. There are no lilacs in +our garden, and if there were it is not the season. No, this perfume had +been brought there by a woman--a woman who sat at my desk and raised her +head as I entered. + +“You will pardon this intrusion,” she said in the correct careful +English of one who has learned the speech from a book. “I have come for +a brief word with you--then I shall go.” + +I could think of nothing to say. I stood gaping like a schoolboy. + +“My word,” the woman went on, “is in the nature of advice. We do not +always like those who give us advice. None the less, I trust that you +will listen.” + +I found my tongue then. + +“I am listening,” I said stupidly. “But first--a light--” And I moved +toward the matches on the mantelpiece. + +Quickly the woman rose and faced me. I saw then that she wore a +veil--not a heavy veil, but a fluffy, attractive thing that was yet +sufficient to screen her features from me. + +“I beg of you,” she cried, “no light!” And as I paused, undecided, she +added, in a tone which suggested lips that pout: “It is such a little +thing to ask--surely you will not refuse.” + +I suppose I should have insisted. But her voice was charming, her manner +perfect, and that odor of lilacs reminiscent of a garden I knew long +ago, at home. + +“Very well,” said I. + +“Oh--I am grateful to you,” she answered. Her tone changed. “I +understand that, shortly after seven o’clock last Thursday evening, you +heard in the room above you the sounds of a struggle. Such has been your +testimony to the police?” + +“It has,” said I. + +“Are you quite certain as to the hour?” I felt that she was smiling at +me. “Might it not have been later--or earlier?” + +“I am sure it was just after seven,” I replied. “I’ll tell you why: I +had just returned from dinner and while I was unlocking the door Big Ben +on the House of Parliament struck--” + +She raised her hand. + +“No matter,” she said, and there was a touch of iron in her voice. +“You are no longer sure of that. Thinking it over, you have come to the +conclusion that it may have been barely six-thirty when you heard the +noise of a struggle.” + +“Indeed?” said I. I tried to sound sarcastic, but I was really too +astonished by her tone. + +“Yes--indeed!” she replied. “That is what you will tell Inspector Bray +when next you see him. ‘It may have been six-thirty,’ you will tell him. +‘I have thought it over and I am not certain.’” + +“Even for a very charming lady,” I said “I can not misrepresent the +facts in a matter so important. It was after seven--” + +“I am not asking you to do a favor for a lady,” she replied. “I am +asking you to do a favor for yourself. If you refuse the consequences +may be most unpleasant.” + +“I’m rather at a loss--” I began. + +She was silent for a moment. Then she turned and I felt her looking at +me through the veil. + +“Who was Archibald Enwright?” she demanded. My heart sank. I recognized +the weapon in her hands. “The police,” she went on, “do not yet know +that the letter of introduction you brought to the captain was signed by +a man who addressed Fraser-Freer as Dear Cousin, but who is completely +unknown to the family. Once that information reaches Scotland Yard, your +chance of escaping arrest is slim. + +“They may not be able to fasten this crime upon you, but there will be +complications most distasteful. One’s liberty is well worth keeping--and +then, too, before the case ends, there will be wide publicity--” + +“‘Well?” said I. + +“That is why you are going to suffer a lapse of memory in the matter of +the hour at which you heard that struggle. As you think it over, it +is going to occur to you that it may have been six-thirty, not seven. +Otherwise--” + +“Go on.” + +“Otherwise the letter of introduction you gave to the captain will be +sent anonymously to Inspector Bray.” + +“You have that letter!” I cried. + +“Not I,” she answered. “But it will be sent to Bray. It will be pointed +out to him that you were posing under false colors. You could not +escape!” + +I was most uncomfortable. The net of suspicion seemed closing in about +me. But I was resentful, too, of the confidence in this woman’s voice. + +“None the less,” said I, “I refuse to change my testimony. The truth is +the truth--” + +The woman had moved to the door. She turned. + +“To-morrow,” she replied, “it is not unlikely you will see Inspector +Bray. As I said, I came here to give you advice. You had better take it. +What does it matter--a half-hour this way or that? And the difference is +prison for you. Good night.” + +She was gone. I followed into the hall. Below, in the street, I heard +the rattle of her taxi. + +I went back into my room and sat down. I was upset, and no mistake. +Outside my windows the continuous symphony of the city played on--the +busses, the trains, the never-silent voices. I gazed out. What a +tremendous acreage of dank brick houses and dank British souls! I felt +horribly alone. I may add that I felt a bit frightened, as though that +great city were slowly closing in on me. + +Who was this woman of mystery? What place had she held in the life--and +perhaps in the death--of Captain Fraser-Freer? Why should she come +boldly to my rooms to make her impossible demand? + +I resolved that, even at the risk of my own comfort, I would stick to +the truth. And to that resolve I would have clung had I not shortly +received another visit--this one far more inexplicable, far more +surprising, than the first. + +It was about nine o’clock when Walters tapped at my door and told me +two gentlemen wished to see me. A moment later into my study walked +Lieutenant Norman Fraser-Freer and a fine old gentleman with a face that +suggested some faded portrait hanging on an aristocrat’s wall. I had +never seen him before. + +“I hope it is quite convenient for you to see us,” said young +Fraser-Freer. + +I assured him that it was. The boy’s face was drawn and haggard; there +was terrible suffering in his eyes, yet about him hung, like a halo, the +glory of a great resolution. + +“May I present my father?” he said. “General Fraser-Freer, retired. We +have come on a matter of supreme importance--” + +The old man muttered something I could not catch. I could see that +he had been hard hit by the loss of his elder son. I asked them to be +seated; the general complied, but the boy walked the floor in a manner +most distressing. + +“I shall not be long,” he remarked. “Nor at a time like this is one in +the mood to be diplomatic. I will only say, sir, that we have come to +ask of you a great--a very great favor indeed. You may not see fit to +grant it. If that is the case we can not well reproach you. But if you +can--” + +“It is a great favor, sir!” broke in the general. “And I am in the odd +position where I do not know whether you will serve me best by granting +it or by refusing to do so.” + +“Father--please--if you don’t mind--” The boy’s voice was kindly but +determined. He turned to me. + +“Sir--you have testified to the police that it was a bit past seven when +you heard in the room above the sounds of the struggle which--which--You +understand.” + +In view of the mission of the caller who had departed a scant hour +previously, the boy’s question startled me. + +“Such was my testimony,” I answered. “It was the truth.” + +“Naturally,” said Lieutenant Fraser-Freer. “But--er--as a matter of +fact, we are here to ask that you alter your testimony. Could you, as a +favor to us who have suffered so cruel a loss--a favor we should never +forget--could you not make the hour of that struggle half after six?” + +I was quite overwhelmed. + +“Your--reasons?” I managed at last to ask. + +“I am not able to give them to you in full,” the boy answered. “I can +only say this: It happens that at seven o’clock last Thursday night I +was dining with friends at the Savoy--friends who would not be likely to +forget the occasion.” + +The old general leaped to his feet. + +“Norman,” he cried, “I can not let you do this thing! I simply will +not--” + +“Hush, father,” said the boy wearily. “We have threshed it all out. You +have promised--” + +The old man sank back into the chair and buried his face in his hands. + +“If you are willing to change your testimony,” young Fraser-Freer went +on to me, “I shall at once confess to the police that it was I who--who +murdered my brother. They suspect me. They know that late last Thursday +afternoon I purchased a revolver, for which, they believe, at the last +moment I substituted the knife. They know that I was in debt to him; +that we had quarreled about money matters; that by his death I, and I +alone, could profit.” + +He broke off suddenly and came toward me, holding out his arms with a +pleading gesture I can never forget. + +“Do this for me!” he cried. “Let me confess! Let me end this whole +horrible business here and now.” + +Surely no man had ever to answer such an appeal before. + +“Why?” I found myself saying, and over and over I repeated it--“Why? +Why?” + +The lieutenant faced me, and I hope never again to see such a look in a +man’s eyes. + +“I loved him!” he cried. “That is why. For his honor, for the honor of +our family, I am making this request of you. Believe me, it is not easy. +I can tell you no more than that. You knew my brother?” + +“Slightly.” + +“Then, for his sake--do this thing I ask.” + +“But--murder--” + +“You heard the sounds of a struggle. I shall say that we quarreled--that +I struck in self-defense.” He turned to his father. “It will mean only +a few years in prison--I can bear that!” he cried. “For the honor of our +name!” + +The old man groaned, but did not raise his head. The boy walked back +and forth over my faded carpet like a lion caged. I stood wondering what +answer I should make. + +“I know what you are thinking,” said the lieutenant. “You can not credit +your ears. But you have heard correctly. And now--as you might put +it--it is up to you. I have been in your country.” He smiled pitifully. +“I think I know you Americans. You are not the sort to refuse a man when +he is sore beset--as I am.” + +I looked from him to the general and back again. + +“I must think this over,” I answered, my mind going at once to Colonel +Hughes. “Later--say to-morrow--you shall have my decision.” + +“To-morrow,” said the boy, “we shall both be called before Inspector +Bray. I shall know your answer then--and I hope with all my heart it +will be yes.” + +There were a few mumbled words of farewell and he and the broken old man +went out. As soon as the street door closed behind them I hurried to the +telephone and called a number Colonel Hughes had given me. It was with a +feeling of relief that I heard his voice come back over the wire. I told +him I must see him at once. He replied that by a singular chance he had +been on the point of starting for my rooms. + +In the half-hour that elapsed before the coming of the colonel I walked +about like a man in a trance. He was barely inside my door when I began +pouring out to him the story of those two remarkable visits. He made +little comment on the woman’s call beyond asking me whether I could +describe her; and he smiled when I mentioned lilac perfume. At mention +of young Fraser-Freer’s preposterous request he whistled. + +“By gad!” he said. “Interesting--most interesting! I am not surprised, +however. That boy has the stuff in him.” + +“But what shall I do?” I demanded. + +Colonel Hughes smiled. + +“It makes little difference what you do,” he said. “Norman Fraser-Freer +did not kill his brother, and that will be proved in due time.” He +considered for a moment. “Bray no doubt would be glad to have you alter +your testimony, since he is trying to fasten the crime on the young +lieutenant. On the whole, if I were you, I think that when the +opportunity comes to-morrow I should humor the inspector.” + +“You mean--tell him I am no longer certain as to the hour of that +struggle?” + +“Precisely. I give you my word that young Fraser-Freer will not be +permanently incriminated by such an act on your part. And incidentally +you will be aiding me.” + +“Very well,” said I. “But I don’t understand this at all.” + +“No--of course not. I wish I could explain to you; but I can not. I +will say this--the death of Captain Fraser-Freer is regarded as a most +significant thing by the War Office. Thus it happens that two distinct +hunts for his assassin are under way--one conducted by Bray, the other +by me. Bray does not suspect that I am working on the case and I want to +keep him in the dark as long as possible. You may choose which of these +investigations you wish to be identified with.” + +“I think,” said I, “that I prefer you to Bray.” + +“Good boy!” he answered. “You have not gone wrong. And you can do me a +service this evening, which is why I was on the point of coming here, +even before you telephoned me. I take it that you remember and could +identify the chap who called himself Archibald Enwright--the man who +gave you that letter to the captain?” + +“I surely could,” said I. + +“Then, if you can spare me an hour, get your hat.” + +And so it happens, lady of the Carlton, that I have just been to +Limehouse. You do not know where Limehouse is and I trust you never +will. It is picturesque; it is revolting; it is colorful and wicked. The +weird odors of it still fill my nostrils; the sinister portrait of it is +still before my eyes. It is the Chinatown of London--Limehouse. Down +in the dregs of the town--with West India Dock Road for its spinal +column--it lies, redolent of ways that are dark and tricks that are +vain. Not only the heathen Chinee so peculiar shuffles through its +dim-lit alleys, but the scum of the earth, of many colors and of many +climes. The Arab and the Hindu, the Malayan and the Jap, black men from +the Congo and fair men from Scandinavia--these you may meet there--the +outpourings of all the ships that sail the Seven Seas. There many +drunken beasts, with their pay in their pockets, seek each his favorite +sin; and for those who love most the opium, there is, at all too regular +intervals, the Sign of the Open Lamp. + +We went there, Colonel Hughes and I. Up and down the narrow Causeway, +yellow at intervals with the light from gloomy shops, dark mostly +because of tightly closed shutters through which only thin jets found +their way, we walked until we came and stood at last in shadow outside +the black doorway of Harry San Li’s so-called restaurant. We waited ten, +fifteen minutes; then a man came down the Causeway and paused before +that door. There was something familiar in his jaunty walk. Then the +faint glow of the lamp that was the indication of Harry San’s real +business lit his pale face, and I knew that I had seen him last in +the cool evening at Interlaken, where Limehouse could not have lived a +moment, with the Jungfrau frowning down upon it. + +“Enwright?” whispered Hughes. + +“Not a doubt of it!” said I. + +“Good!” he replied with fervor. + +And now another man shuffled down the street and stood suddenly straight +and waiting before the colonel. + +“Stay with him,” said Hughes softly. “Don’t let him get out of your +sight.” + +“Very good, sir,” said the man; and, saluting, he passed on up the +stairs and whistled softly at that black depressing door. + +The clock above the Millwall Docks was striking eleven as the colonel +and I caught a bus that should carry us back to a brighter, happier +London. Hughes spoke but seldom on that ride; and, repeating his advice +that I humor Inspector Bray on the morrow, he left me in the Strand. + +So, my lady, here I sit in my study, waiting for that most important day +that is shortly to dawn. A full evening, you must admit. A woman with +the perfume of lilacs about her has threatened that unless I lie I shall +encounter consequences most unpleasant. A handsome young lieutenant has +begged me to tell that same lie for the honor of his family, and thus +condemn him to certain arrest and imprisonment. And I have been +down into hell, to-night and seen Archibald Enwright, of Interlaken, +conniving with the devil. + +I presume I should go to bed; but I know I can not sleep. To-morrow +is to be, beyond all question, a red-letter day in the matter of the +captain’s murder. And once again, against my will, I am down to play a +leading part. + +The symphony of this great, gray, sad city is a mere hum in the distance +now, for it is nearly midnight. I shall mail this letter to you--post +it, I should say, since I am in London--and then I shall wait in my dim +rooms for the dawn. And as I wait I shall be thinking not always of +the captain, or his brother, or Hughes, or Limehouse and Enwright, but +often--oh, very often--of you. + +In my last letter I scoffed at the idea of a great war. But when we +came back from Limehouse to-night the papers told us that the Kaiser had +signed the order to mobilize. Austria in; Serbia in; Germany, Russia +and France in. Hughes tells me that England is shortly to follow, and +I suppose there is no doubt of it. It is a frightful thing--this future +that looms before us; and I pray that for you at least it may hold only +happiness. + +For, my lady, when I write good night, I speak it aloud as I write; and +there is in my voice more than I dare tell you of now. + +THE AGONY COLUMN MAN. + + +Not unwelcome to the violet eyes of the girl from Texas were the last +words of this letter, read in her room that Sunday morning. But the +lines predicting England’s early entrance into the war recalled to her +mind a most undesirable contingency. On the previous night, when the war +extras came out confirming the forecast of his favorite bootblack, her +usually calm father had shown signs of panic. He was not a man slow +to act. And she knew that, putty though he was in her hands in matters +which he did not regard as important, he could also be firm where he +thought firmness necessary. America looked even better to him than +usual, and he had made up his mind to go there immediately. There was no +use in arguing with him. + +At this point came a knock at her door and her father entered. One look +at his face--red, perspiring and decidedly unhappy--served to cheer his +daughter. + +“Been down to the steamship offices,” he panted, mopping his bald head. +“They’re open to-day, just like it was a week day--but they might as +well be closed. There’s nothing doing. Every boat’s booked up to the +rails; we can’t get out of here for two weeks--maybe more.” + +“I’m sorry,” said his daughter. + +“No, you ain’t! You’re delighted! You think it’s romantic to get caught +like this. Wish I had the enthusiasm of youth.” He fanned himself with a +newspaper. “Lucky I went over to the express office yesterday and loaded +up on gold. I reckon when the blow falls it’ll be tolerable hard to cash +checks in this man’s town.” + +“That was a good idea.” + +“Ready for breakfast?” he inquired. + +“Quite ready,” she smiled. + +They went below, she humming a song from a revue, while he glared at +her. She was very glad they were to be in London a little longer. She +felt she could not go, with that mystery still unsolved. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +The last peace Sunday London was to know in many weary months went by, +a tense and anxious day. Early on Monday the fifth letter from the young +man of the Agony Column arrived, and when the girl from Texas read it +she knew that under no circumstances could she leave London now. + +It ran: + +DEAR LADY FROM HOME: I call you that because the word home has for me, +this hot afternoon in London, about the sweetest sound word ever had. I +can see, when I close my eyes, Broadway at midday; Fifth Avenue, gay and +colorful, even with all the best people away; Washington Square, cool +under the trees, lovely and desirable despite the presence everywhere of +alien neighbors from the district to the South. I long for home with an +ardent longing; never was London so cruel, so hopeless, so drab, in my +eyes. For, as I write this, a constable sits at my elbow, and he and +I are shortly to start for Scotland Yard. I have been arrested as a +suspect in the case of Captain Fraser-Freer’s murder! + +I predicted last night that this was to be a red-letter day in the +history of that case, and I also saw myself an unwilling actor in the +drama. But little did I suspect the series of astonishing events that +was to come with the morning; little did I dream that the net I have +been dreading would to-day engulf me. I can scarcely blame Inspector +Bray for holding me; what I can not understand is why Colonel Hughes-- + +But you want, of course, the whole story from the beginning; and I shall +give it to you. At eleven o’clock this morning a constable called on +me at my rooms and informed me that I was wanted at once by the Chief +Inspector at the Yard. + +We climbed--the constable and I--a narrow stone stairway somewhere at +the back of New Scotland Yard, and so came to the inspector’s room. +Bray was waiting for us, smiling and confident. I remember--silly as the +detail is--that he wore in his buttonhole a white rose. His manner of +greeting me was more genial than usual. He began by informing me that +the police had apprehended the man who, they believed, was guilty of the +captain’s murder. + +“There is one detail to be cleared up,” he said. “You told me the other +night that it was shortly after seven o’clock when you heard the sounds +of struggle in the room above you. You were somewhat excited at the +time, and under similar circumstances men have been known to make +mistakes. Have you considered the matter since? Is it not possible that +you were in error in regard to the hour?” + +I recalled Hughes’ advice to humor the inspector; and I said that, +having thought it over, I was not quite sure. It might have been earlier +than seven--say six-thirty. + +“Exactly,” said Bray. He seemed rather pleased. “The natural stress +of the moment--I understand. Wilkinson, bring in your prisoner. The +constable addressed turned and left the room, coming back a moment later +with Lieutenant Norman Fraser-Freer. The boy was pale; I could see at a +glance that he had not slept for several nights. + +“Lieutenant,” said Bray very sharply, “will you tell me--is it true that +your brother, the late captain, had loaned you a large sum of money a +year or so ago?” + +“Quite true,” answered the lieutenant in a low voice. + +“You and he had quarreled about the amount of money you spent?” + +“Yes.” + +“By his death you became the sole heir of your father, the general. Your +position with the money-lenders was quite altered. Am I right?” + +“I fancy so.” + +“Last Thursday afternoon you went to the Army and Navy Stores and +purchased a revolver. You already had your service weapon, but to shoot +a man with a bullet from that would be to make the hunt of the police +for the murderer absurdly simple.” + +The boy made no answer. + +“Let us suppose,” Bray went on, “that last Thursday evening at half +after six you called on your brother in his rooms at Adelphi Terrace. +There was an argument about money. You became enraged. You saw him and +him alone between you and the fortune you needed so badly. Then--I am +only supposing--you noticed on his table an odd knife he had brought +from India--safer--more silent--than a gun. You seized it--” + +“Why suppose?” the boy broke in. “I’m not trying to conceal anything. +You’re right--I did it! I killed my brother! Now let us get the whole +business over as soon as may be.” + +Into the face of Inspector Bray there came at that moment a look that +has puzzling me ever since--a look that has recurred to my mind again +and again,--in the stress and storm of this eventful day. It was only +too evident that this confession came to him as a shock. I presume so +easy a victory seemed hollow to him; he was wishing the boy had put up a +fight. Policemen are probably like that. + +“My boy,” he said, “I am sorry for you. My course is clear. If you will +go with one of my men--” + +It was at this point that the door of the inspector’s room opened and +Colonel Hughes, cool and smiling, walked in. Bray chuckled at sight of +the military man. + +“Ah, Colonel,” he cried, “you make a good entrance! This morning, when I +discovered that I had the honor of having you associated with me in the +search for the captain’s murderer, you were foolish enough to make a +little wager--” + +“I remember,” Hughes answered. “A scarab pin against--a Homburg hat.” + +“Precisely,” said Bray. “You wagered that you, and not I, would discover +the guilty man. Well, Colonel, you owe me a scarab. Lieutenant Norman +Fraser-Freer has just told me that he killed his brother, and I was on +the point of taking down his full confession.” + +“Indeed!” replied Hughes calmly. “Interesting--most interesting! But +before we consider the wager lost--before you force the lieutenant to +confess in full--I should like the floor.” + +“Certainly,” smiled Bray. + +“When you were kind enough to let me have two of your men this morning,” + said Hughes, “I told you I contemplated the arrest of a lady. I have +brought that lady to Scotland Yard with me.” He stepped to the +door, opened it and beckoned. A tall, blonde handsome woman of about +thirty-five entered; and instantly to my nostrils came the pronounced +odor of lilacs. “Allow me, Inspector,” went on the colonel, “to +introduce to you the Countess Sophie de Graf, late of Berlin, late of +Delhi and Rangoon, now of 17 Leitrim Grove, Battersea Park Road.” + +The woman faced Bray; and there was a terrified, hunted look in her +eyes. + +“You are the inspector?” she asked. + +“I am,” said Bray. + +“And a man--I can see that,” she went on, her flashing angrily at +Hughes. “I appeal to you to protect me from the brutal questioning of +this--this fiend.” + +“You are hardly complimentary, Countess,” Hughes smiled. “But I am +willing to forgive you if you will tell the inspector the story that you +have recently related to me.” + +The woman shut her lips tightly and for a long moment gazed into the +eyes of Inspector Bray. + +“He”--she said at last, nodding in the direction of Colonel Hughes--“he +got it out of me--how, I don’t know.” + +“Got what out of you?” Bray’s little eyes were blinking. + +“At six-thirty o’clock last Thursday evening,” said the woman, “I went +to the rooms of Captain Fraser-Freer, in Adelphi Terrace. An argument +arose. I seized from his table an Indian dagger that was lying there--I +stabbed him just above the heart!” + +In that room in Scotland Yard a tense silence fell. For the first time +we were all conscious of a tiny clock on the inspector’s desk, for it +ticked now with a loudness sudden and startling. I gazed at the faces +about me. Bray’s showed a momentary surprise--then the mask fell again. +Lieutenant Fraser-Freer was plainly amazed. On the face of Colonel +Hughes I saw what struck me as an open sneer. + +“Go on, Countess,” he smiled. + +She shrugged her shoulders and turned toward him a disdainful back. Her +eyes were all for Bray. + +“It’s very brief, the story,” she said hastily--I thought almost +apologetically. “I had known the captain in Rangoon. My husband was in +business there--an exporter of rice--and Captain Fraser-Freer came often +to our house. We--he was a charming man, the captain--” + +“Go on!” ordered Hughes. + +“We fell desperately in love,” said the countess. “When he returned +to England, though supposedly on a furlough, he told me he would never +return to Rangoon. He expected a transfer to Egypt. So it was arranged +that I should desert my husband and follow on the next boat. I did +so--believing in the captain--thinking he really cared for me--I gave up +everything for him. And then--” + +Her voice broke and she took out a handkerchief. Again that odor of +lilacs in the room. + +“For a time I saw the captain often in London; and then I began to +notice a change. Back among his own kind, with the lonely days in +India a mere memory--he seemed no longer to--to care for me. Then--last +Thursday morning--he called on me to tell me that he was through; that +he would never see me again--in fact, that he was to marry a girl of his +own people who had been waiting--” + +The woman looked piteously about at us. + +“I was desperate,” she pleaded. “I had given up all that life held +for me--given it up for a man who now looked at me coldly and spoke +of marrying another. Can you wonder that I went in the evening to his +rooms--went to plead with him--to beg, almost on my knees? It was no +use. He was done with me--he said that over and over. Overwhelmed with +blind rage and despair, I snatched up that knife from the table and +plunged it into his heart. At once I was filled with remorse. I--” + +“One moment,” broke in Hughes. “You may keep the details of your +subsequent actions until later. I should like to compliment you, +Countess. You tell it better each time.” + +He came over and faced Bray. I thought there was a distinct note of +hostility in his voice. + +“Checkmate, Inspector!” he said. Bray made no reply. He sat there +staring up at the colonel, his face turned to stone. + +“The scarab pin,” went on Hughes, “is not yet forthcoming. We are tied +for honors, my friend. You have your confession, but I have one to match +it.” + +“All this is beyond me,” snapped Bray. + +“A bit beyond me, too,” the colonel answered. “Here are two people who +wish us to believe that on the evening of Thursday last, at half after +six of the clock, each sought out Captain Fraser-Freer in his rooms and +murdered him.” + +He walked to the window and then wheeled dramatically. + +“The strangest part of it all is,” he added, “that at six-thirty +o’clock last Thursday evening, at an obscure restaurant in +Soho--Frigacci’s--these two people were having tea together!” + +I must admit that, as the colonel calmly offered this information, I +suddenly went limp all over at a realization of the endless maze of +mystery in which we were involved. The woman gave a little cry and +Lieutenant Fraser-Freer leaped to his feet. + +“How the devil do you know that?” he cried. + +“I know it,” said Colonel Hughes, “because one of my men happened to be +having tea at a table near by. He happened to be having tea there for +the reason that ever since the arrival of this lady in London, at the +request of--er--friends in India, I have been keeping track of her every +move; just as I kept watch over your late brother, the captain.” + +Without a word Lieutenant Fraser-Freer dropped into a chair and buried +his face in his hands. + +“I’m sorry, my son,” said Hughes. “Really, I am. You made a heroic +effort to keep the facts from coming out--a man’s-size effort it was. +But the War Office knew long before you did that your brother had +succumbed to this woman’s lure--that he was serving her and Berlin, and +not his own country, England.” + +Fraser-Freer raised his head. When he spoke there was in his voice an +emotion vastly more sincere than that which had moved him when he made +his absurd confession. + +“The game’s up,” he said. “I have done all I could. This will kill my +father, I am afraid. Ours has been an honorable name, Colonel; you know +that--a long line of military men whose loyalty to their country has +never before been in question. I thought my confession would end the +whole nasty business, that the investigations would stop, and that +I might be able to keep forever unknown this horrible thing about +him--about my brother.” + +Colonel Hughes laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder, and the latter went +on: “They reached me--those frightful insinuations about Stephen--in a +round about way; and when he came home from India I resolved to watch +him. I saw him go often to the house of this woman. I satisfied myself +that she was the same one involved in the stories coming from Rangoon; +then, under another name, I managed to meet her. I hinted to her that +I myself was none too loyal; not completely, but to a limited extent, +I won her confidence. Gradually I became convinced that my brother was +indeed disloyal to his country, to his name, to us all. It was at +that tea time you have mentioned when I finally made up my mind. I had +already bought a revolver; and, with it in my pocket, I went to the +Savoy for dinner.” + +He rose and paced the floor. + +“I left the Savoy early and went to Stephen’s rooms. I was resolved to +have it out with him, to put the matter to him bluntly; and if he had +no explanation to give me I intended to kill him then and there. So, you +see, I was guilty in intention if not in reality. I entered his study. +It was filled with strangers. On his sofa I saw my brother Stephen +lying--stabbed above the heart--dead!” There was a moment’s silence. +“That is all,” said Lieutenant Fraser-Freer. + +“I take it,” said Hughes kindly, “that we have finished with the +lieutenant. Eh, Inspector?” + +“Yes,” said Bray shortly. “You may go.” + +“Thank you,” the boy answered. As he went out he said brokenly to +Hughes: “I must find him--my father.” + +Bray sat in his chair, staring hard ahead, his jaw thrust out angrily. +Suddenly he turned on Hughes. + +“You don’t play fair,” he said. “I wasn’t told anything of the status of +the captain at the War Office. This is all news to me.” + +“Very well,” smiled Hughes. “The bet is off if you like.” + +“No, by heaven!” Bray cried. “It’s still on, and I’ll win it yet. A fine +morning’s work I suppose you think you’ve done. But are we any nearer to +finding the murderer? Tell me that.” + +“Only a bit nearer, at any rate,” replied Hughes suavely. “This lady, of +course, remains in custody.” + +“Yes, yes,” answered the inspector. “Take her away!” he ordered. + +A constable came forward for the countess and Colonel Hughes gallantly +held open the door. + +“You will have an opportunity, Sophie,” he said, “to think up another +story. You are clever--it will not be hard.” + +She gave him a black look and went out. Bray got up from his desk. He +and Colonel Hughes stood facing each other across a table, and to +me there was something in the manner of each that suggested eternal +conflict. + +“Well?” sneered Bray. + +“There is one possibility we have overlooked,” Hughes answered. He +turned toward me and I was startled by the coldness in his eyes. “Do you +know, Inspector,” he went on, “that this American came to London with +a letter of introduction to the captain--a letter from the captain’s +cousin, one Archibald Enwright? And do you know that Fraser-Freer had no +cousin of that name?” + +“No!” said Bray. + +“It happens to be the truth,” said Hughes. “The American has confessed +as much to me.” + +“Then,” said Bray to me, and his little blinking eyes were on me with +a narrow calculating glance that sent the shivers up and down my spine, +“you are under arrest. I have exempted you so far because of your friend +at the United States Consulate. That exemption ends now.” + +I was thunderstruck. I turned to the colonel, the man who had suggested +that I seek him out if I needed a friend--the man I had looked to to +save me from just such a contingency as this. But his eyes were quite +fishy and unsympathetic. + +“Quite correct, Inspector,” he said. “Lock him up!” And as I began +to protest he passed very close to me and spoke in a low voice: “Say +nothing. Wait!” + +I pleaded to be allowed to go back to my rooms, to communicate with my +friends, and pay a visit to our consulate and to the Embassy; and at the +colonel’s suggestion Bray agreed to this somewhat irregular course. So +this afternoon I have been abroad with a constable, and while I wrote +this long letter to you he has been fidgeting in my easy chair. Now he +informs me that his patience is exhausted and that I must go at once. So +there is no time to wonder; no time to speculate as to the future, as to +the colonel’s sudden turn against me or the promise of his whisper in my +ear. I shall, no doubt, spend the night behind those hideous, forbidding +walls that your guide has pointed out to you as New Scotland Yard. And +when I shall write again, when I shall end this series of letters so +filled with-- + +The constable will not wait. He is as impatient as a child. Surely he is +lying when he says I have kept him here an hour. + +Wherever I am, dear lady, whatever be the end of this amazing tangle, +you may be sure the thought of you--Confound the man! + +YOURS, IN DURANCE VILE. + + +This fifth letter from the young man of the Agony Column arrived at the +Carlton Hotel, as the reader may recall, on Monday morning, August +the third. And it represented to the girl from Texas the climax of the +excitement she had experienced in the matter of the murder in Adelphi +Terrace. The news that her pleasant young friend--whom she did not +know--had been arrested as a suspect in the case, inevitable as it had +seemed for days, came none the less as an unhappy shock. She wondered +whether there was anything she could do to help. She even considered +going to Scotland Yard and, on the ground that her father was a +Congressman from Texas, demanding the immediate release of her +strawberry man. Sensibly, however, she decided that Congressmen from +Texas meant little in the life of the London police. Besides, she night +have difficulty in explaining to that same Congressman how she happened +to know all about a crime that was as yet unmentioned in the newspapers. + +So she reread the latter portion of the fifth letter, which pictured her +hero marched off ingloriously to Scotland Yard and with a worried little +sigh, went below to join her father. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +In the course of the morning she made several mysterious inquiries of +her parent regarding nice points of international law as it concerned +murder, and it is probable that he would have been struck by the odd +nature of these questions had he not been unduly excited about another +matter. + +“I tell you, we’ve got to get home!” he announced gloomily. “The German +troops are ready at Aix-la-Chapelle for an assault on Liege. Yes, +sir--they’re going to strike through Belgium! Know what that means? +England in the war! Labor troubles; suffragette troubles; civil war in +Ireland--these things will melt away as quickly as that snow we had +lastwinter in Texas. They’ll go in. It would be national suicide if they +didn’t.” + +His daughter stared at him. She was unaware that it was the bootblack +at the Carlton he was now quoting. She began to think he knew more about +foreign affairs than she had given him credit for. + +“Yes, sir,” he went on; “we’ve got to travel--fast. This won’t be a +healthy neighborhood for non-combatants when the ruction starts. I’m +going if I have to buy a liner!” + +“Nonsense!” said the girl. “This is the chance of a lifetime. I won’t +be cheated out of it by a silly old dad. Why, here we are, face to face +with history!” + +“American history is good enough for me,” he spread-eagled. “What are +you looking at?” + +“Provincial to the death!” she said thoughtfully. “You old dear--I love +you so! Some of our statesmen over home are going to look pretty foolish +now in the face of things they can’t understand, I hope you’re not going +to be one of them.” + +“Twaddle!” he cried. “I’m going to the steamship offices to-day and +argue as I never argued for a vote.” + +His daughter saw that he was determined; and, wise from long experience, +she did not try to dissuade him. + +London that hot Monday was a city on the alert, a city of hearts heavy +with dread. The rumors in one special edition of the papers were denied +in the next and reaffirmed in the next. Men who could look into the +future walked the streets with faces far from happy. Unrest ruled the +town. And it found its echo in the heart of the girl from Texas as she +thought of her young friend of the Agony Column “in durance vile” behind +the frowning walls of Scotland Yard. + +That afternoon her father appeared, with the beaming mien of the victor, +and announced that for a stupendous sum he had bought the tickets of a +man who was to have sailed on the steamship Saronia three days hence. + +“The boat train leaves at ten Thursday morning,” he said. “Take your +last look at Europe and be ready.” + +Three days! His daughter listened with sinking heart. Could she in three +days’ time learn the end of that strange mystery, know the final fate +of the man who had first addressed her so unconventionally in a public +print? Why, at the end of three days he might still be in Scotland Yard, +a prisoner! She could not leave if that were true--she simply could not. +Almost she was on the point of telling her father the story of the whole +affair, confident that she could soothe his anger and enlist his aid. +She decided to wait until the next morning; and, if no letter came +then-- + +But on Tuesday morning a letter did come and the beginning of it brought +pleasant news. The beginning--yes. But the end! This was the letter: + +DEAR ANXIOUS LADY: Is it too much for me to assume that you have been +just that, knowing as you did that I was locked up for the murder of a +captain in the Indian Army, with the evidence all against me and hope a +very still small voice indeed? + +Well, dear lady, be anxious no longer. I have just lived through the +most astounding day of all the astounding days that have been my portion +since last Thursday. And now, in the dusk, I sit again in my rooms, a +free man, and write to you in what peace and quiet I can command after +the startling adventure through which I have recently passed. + +Suspicion no longer points to me; constables no longer eye me; Scotland +Yard is not even slightly interested in me. For the murderer of Captain +Fraser-Freer has been caught at last! + +Sunday night I spent ingloriously in a cell in Scotland Yard. I could +not sleep. I had so much to think of--you, for example, and at intervals +how I might escape from the folds of the net that had closed so tightly +about me. My friend at the consulate, Watson, called on me late in +the evening; and he was very kind. But there was a note lacking in +his voice, and after he was gone the terrible certainty came into my +mind--he believed that I was guilty after all. + +The night passed, and a goodly portion of to-day went by--as the poets +say--with lagging feet. I thought of London, yellow in the sun. I +thought of the Carlton--I suppose there are no more strawberries by this +time. And my waiter--that stiff-backed Prussian--is home in Deutschland +now, I presume, marching with his regiment. I thought of you. + +At three o’clock this afternoon they came for me and I was led back +to the room belonging to Inspector Bray. When I entered, however, +the inspector was not there--only Colonel Hughes, immaculate and +self-possessed, as usual, gazing out the window into the cheerless +stone court. He turned when I entered. I suppose I must have had a most +woebegone appearance, for a look of regret crossed his face. + +“My dear fellow,” he cried, “my most humble apologies! I intended to +have you released last night. But, believe me, I have been frightfully +busy.” + +I said nothing. What could I say? The fact that he had been busy struck +me as an extremely silly excuse. But the inference that my escape from +the toils of the law was imminent set my heart to thumping. + +“I fear you can never forgive me for throwing you over as I did +yesterday,” he went on. “I can only say that it was absolutely +necessary--as you shall shortly understand.” + +I thawed a bit. After all, there was an unmistakable sincerity in his +voice and manner. + +“We are waiting for Inspector Bray,” continued the colonel. “I take it +you wish to see this thing through?” + +“To the end,” I answered. + +“Naturally. The inspector was called away yesterday immediately after +our interview with him. He had business on the Continent, I understand. +But fortunately I managed to reach him at Dover and he has come back +to London. I wanted him, you see, because I have found the murderer of +Captain Fraser-Freer.” + +I thrilled to hear that, for from my point of view it was certainly a +consummation devoutly to be wished. The colonel did not speak again. In +a few minutes the door opened and Bray came in. His clothes looked as +though he had slept in them; his little eyes were bloodshot. But in +those eyes there was a fire I shall never forget. Hughes bowed. + +“Good afternoon, Inspector,” he said. “I’m really sorry I had to +interrupt you as I did; but I most awfully wanted you to know that you +owe me a Homburg hat.” He went closer to the detective. “You see, I have +won that wager. I have found the man who murdered Captain Fraser-Freer.” + +Curiously enough, Bray said nothing. He sat down at his desk and idly +glanced through the pile of mail that lay upon it. Finally he looked up +and said in a weary tone: + +“You’re very clever, I’m sure, Colonel Hughes.” + +“Oh--I wouldn’t say that,” replied Hughes. “Luck was with me--from the +first. I am really very glad to have been of service in the matter, for +I am convinced that if I had not taken part in the search it would have +gone hard with some innocent man.” + +Bray’s big pudgy hands still played idly with the mail on his desk. +Hughes went on: “Perhaps, as a clever detective, you will be interested +in the series of events which enabled me to win that Homburg hat? You +have heard, no doubt, that the man I have caught is Von der Herts--ten +years ago the best secret-service man in the employ of the Berlin +government, but for the past few years mysteriously missing from our +line of vision. We’ve been wondering about him--at the War Office.” + +The colonel dropped into a chair, facing Bray. + +“You know Von der Herts, of course?” he remarked casually. + +“Of course,” said Bray, still in that dead tired voice. + +“He is the head of that crowd in England,” went on Hughes. “Rather a +feather in my cap to get him--but I mustn’t boast. Poor Fraser-Freer +would have got him if I hadn’t--only Von der Herts had the luck to get +the captain first.” + +Bray raised his eyes. + +“You said you were going to tell me--” he began. + +“And so I am,” said Hughes. “Captain Fraser-Freer got in rather a +mess in India and failed of promotion. It was suspected that he was +discontented, soured on the Service; and the Countess Sophie de Graf was +set to beguile him with her charms, to kill his loyalty and win him over +to her crowd. + +“It was thought she had succeeded--the Wilhelmstrasse thought so--we at +the War Office thought so, as long as he stayed in India. + +“But when the captain and the woman came on to London we discovered that +we had done him a great injustice. He let us know, when the first chance +offered, that he was trying to redeem himself, to round up a dangerous +band of spies by pretending to be one of them. He said that it was his +mission in London to meet Von der Herts, the greatest of them all; and +that, once he had located this man, we would hear from him again. In the +weeks that followed I continued to keep a watch on the countess; and I +kept track of the captain, too, in a general way, for I’m ashamed to say +I was not quite sure of him.” + +The colonel got up and walked to the window; then turned and continued: +“Captain Fraser-Freer and Von der Herts were completely unknown to +each other. The mails were barred as a means of communication; but +Fraser-Freer knew that in some way word from the master would reach him, +and he had had a tip to watch the personal column of the Daily Mail. Now +we have the explanation of those four odd messages. From that column +the man from Rangoon learned that he was to wear a white aster in his +button-hole, a scarab pin in his tie, a Homburg hat on his head, and +meet Von der Herts at Ye Old Gambrinus Restaurant in Regent Street, last +Thursday night at ten o’clock. As we know, he made all arrangements to +comply with those directions. He made other arrangements as well. Since +it was out of the question for him to come to Scotland Yard, by skillful +maneuvering he managed to interview an inspector of police at the Hotel +Cecil. It was agreed that on Thursday night Von der Herts would be +placed under arrest the moment he made himself known to the captain.” + +Hughes paused. Bray still idled with his pile of letters, while the +colonel regarded him gravely. + +“Poor Fraser-Freer!” Hughes went on. “Unfortunately for him, Von der +Herts knew almost as soon as did the inspector that a plan was afoot to +trap him. There was but one course open to him: He located the captain’s +lodgings, went there at seven that night, and killed a loyal and brave +Englishman where he stood.” + +A tense silence filled the room. I sat on the edge of my chair, +wondering just where all this unwinding of the tangle was leading us. + +“I had little, indeed, to work on,” went on Hughes. “But I had this +advantage: the spy thought the police, and the police alone, were +seeking the murderer. He was at no pains to throw me off his track, +because he did not suspect that I was on it. For weeks my men had been +watching the countess. I had them continue to do so. I figured that +sooner or later Von der Herts would get in touch with her. I was right. +And when at last I saw with my own eyes the man who must, beyond all +question, be Von der Herts, I was astounded, my dear Inspector, I was +overwhelmed.” + +“Yes?” said Bray. + +“I set to work then in earnest to connect him with that night in Adelphi +Terrace. All the finger marks in the captain’s study were for some +reason destroyed, but I found others outside, in the dust on that +seldom-used gate which leads from the garden. Without his knowing, +I secured from the man I suspected the imprint of his right thumb. A +comparison was startling. Next I went down into Fleet Street and luckily +managed to get hold of the typewritten copy sent to the Mail bearing +those four messages. I noticed that in these the letter a was out +of alignment. I maneuvered to get a letter written on a typewriter +belonging to my man. The a was out of alignment. Then Archibald +Enwright, a renegade and waster well known to us as serving other +countries, came to England. My man and he met--at Ye Old Gambrinus, in +Regent Street. And finally, on a visit to the lodgings of this man who, +I was now certain, was Von der Herts, under the mattress of his bed I +found this knife.” + +And Colonel Hughes threw down upon the inspector’s desk the knife from +India that I had last seen in the study of Captain Fraser-Freer. + +“All these points of evidence were in my hands yesterday morning in +this room,” Hughes went on. “Still, the answer they gave me was so +unbelievable, so astounding, I was not satisfied; I wanted even stronger +proof. That is why I directed suspicion to my American friend here. I +was waiting. I knew that at last Von der Herts realized the danger he +was in. I felt that if opportunity were offered he would attempt +to escape from England; and then our proofs of his guilt would be +unanswerable, despite his cleverness. True enough, in the afternoon he +secured the release of the countess, and together they started for the +Continent. I was lucky enough to get him at Dover--and glad to let the +lady go on.” + +And now, for the first time, the startling truth struck me full in the +face as Hughes smiled down at his victim. + +“Inspector Bray,” he said, “or Von der Herts, as you choose, I arrest +you on two counts: First, as the head of the Wilhelmstrasse spy system +in England; second, as the murderer of Captain Fraser-Freer. And, if you +will allow me, I wish to compliment you on your efficiency.” + +Bray did not reply for a moment. I sat numb in my chair. Finally the +inspector looked up. He actually tried to smile. + +“You win the hat,” he said, “but you must go to Homburg for it. I will +gladly pay all expenses.” + +“Thank you,” answered Hughes. “I hope to visit your country before long; +but I shall not be occupied with hats. Again I congratulate you. You +were a bit careless, but your position justified that. As head of the +department at Scotland Yard given over to the hunt for spies, precaution +doubtless struck you as unnecessary. How unlucky for poor Fraser-Freer +that it was to you he went to arrange for your own arrest! I got that +information from a clerk at the Cecil. You were quite right, from your +point of view, to kill him. And, as I say, you could afford to be rather +reckless. You had arranged that when the news of his murder came to +Scotland Yard you yourself would be on hand to conduct the search for +the guilty man. A happy situation, was it not?” + +“It seemed so at the time,” admitted Bray; and at last I thought I +detected a note of bitterness in his voice. + +“I’m very sorry--really,” said Hughes. “To-day, or to-morrow at the +latest, England will enter the war. You know what that means, Von der +Herts. The Tower of London--and a firing squad!” + +Deliberately he walked away from the inspector, and stood facing the +window. Von der Herts was fingering idly that Indian knife which lay on +his desk. With a quick hunted look about the room, he raised his hand; +and before I could leap forward to stop him he had plunged the knife +into his heart. + +Colonel Hughes turned round at my cry, but even at what met his eyes now +that Englishman was imperturbable. + +“Too bad!” he said. “Really too bad! The man had courage and, beyond +all doubt, brains. But--this is most considerate of him. He has saved me +such a lot of trouble.” + +The colonel effected my release at once; and he and I walked down +Whitehall together in the bright sun that seemed so good to me after the +bleak walls of the Yard. Again he apologized for turning suspicion my +way the previous day; but I assured him I held no grudge for that. + +“One or two things I do not understand,” I said. “That letter I brought +from Interlaken--” + +“Simple enough,” he replied. “Enwright--who, by the way, is now in the +Tower--wanted to communicate with Fraser-Freer, who he supposed was a +loyal member of the band. Letters sent by post seemed dangerous. With +your kind assistance he informed the captain of his whereabouts and the +date of his imminent arrival in London. Fraser-Freer, not wanting you +entangled in his plans, eliminated you by denying the existence of this +cousin--the truth, of course.” + +“Why,” I asked, “did the countess call on me to demand that I alter my +testimony?” + +“Bray sent her. He had rifled Fraser-Freer’s desk and he held that +letter from Enwright. He was most anxious to fix the guilt upon the +young lieutenant’s head. You and your testimony as to the hour of the +crime stood in the way. He sought to intimidate you with threats--” + +“But--” + +“I know--you are wondering why the countess confessed to me next day. +I had the woman in rather a funk. In the meshes of my rapid-fire +questioning she became hopelessly involved. This was because she was +suddenly terrified she realized I must have been watching her for weeks, +and that perhaps Von der Herts was not so immune from suspicion as he +supposed. At the proper moment I suggested that I might have to take her +to Inspector Bray. This gave her an idea. She made her fake confession +to reach his side; once there, she warned him of his danger and they +fled together.” + +We walked along a moment in silence. All about us the lurid special +editions of the afternoon were flaunting their predictions of the horror +to come. The face of the colonel was grave. + +“How long had Von der Herts held his position at the Yard?” I asked. + +“For nearly five years,” Hughes answered. + +“It seems incredible,” I murmured. + +“So it does,” he answered; “but it is only the first of many incredible +things that this war will reveal. Two months from now we shall all have +forgotten it in the face of new revelations far more unbelievable.” He +sighed. “If these men about us realized the terrible ordeal that +lies ahead! Misgoverned; unprepared--I shudder at the thought of the +sacrifices we must make, many of them in vain. But I suppose that +somehow, some day, we shall muddle through.” + +He bade me good-by in Trafalgar Square, saying that he must at once +seek out the father and brother of the late captain, and tell them the +news--that their kinsman was really loyal to his country. + +“It will come to them as a ray of light in the dark--my news,” he said. +“And now, thank you once again.” + +We parted and I came back here to my lodgings. The mystery is finally +solved, though in such a way it is difficult to believe that it was +anything but a nightmare at any time. But solved none the less; and I +should be at peace, except for one great black fact that haunts me, will +not let me rest. I must tell you, dear lady--And yet I fear it means the +end of everything. If only I can make you understand! + +I have walked my floor, deep in thought, in puzzlement, in indecision. +Now I have made up my mind. There is no other way--I must tell you the +truth. + +Despite the fact that Bray was Von der Herts; despite the fact that +he killed himself at the discovery--despite this and that, and +everything--Bray did not kill Captain Fraser-Freer! + +On last Thursday evening, at a little after seven o’clock, I myself +climbed the stairs, entered the captain’s rooms, picked up that knife +from his desk, and stabbed him just above the heart! + +What provocation I was under, what stern necessity moved me--all this +you must wait until to-morrow to know. I shall spend another anxious day +preparing my defense, hoping that through some miracle of mercy you may +forgive me--understand that there was nothing else I could do. + +Do not judge, dear lady, until you know everything--until all my +evidence is in your lovely hands. + +YOURS, IN ALL HUMILITY. + + +The first few paragraphs of this the sixth and next to the last letter +from the Agony Column man had brought a smile of relief to the face of +the girl who read. She was decidedly glad to learn that her friend no +longer languished back of those gray walls on Victoria Embankment. With +excitement that increased as she went along, she followed Colonel Hughes +as--in the letter--he moved nearer and nearer his denouement, until +finally his finger pointed to Inspector Bray sitting guilty in his +chair. This was an eminently satisfactory solution, and it served the +inspector right for locking up her friend. Then, with the suddenness +of a bomb from a Zeppelin, came, at the end, her strawberry man’s +confession of guilt. He was the murderer, after all! He admitted it! She +could scarcely believe her eyes. + +Yet there it was, in ink as violet as those eyes, on the note paper that +had become so familiar to her during the thrilling week just past. She +read it a second time, and yet a third. Her amazement gave way to anger; +her cheeks flamed. Still--he had asked her not to judge until all his +evidence was in. This was a reasonable request surely, and she could not +in fairness refuse to grant it. + + +CHAPTER VIII + +So began an anxious day, not only for the girl from Texas but for all +London as well. Her father was bursting with new diplomatic secrets +recently extracted from his bootblack adviser. Later, in Washington, he +was destined to be a marked man because of his grasp of the situation +abroad. No one suspected the bootblack, the power behind the throne; +but the gentleman from Texas was destined to think of that able diplomat +many times, and to wish that he still had him at his feet to advise him. + +“War by midnight, sure!” he proclaimed on the morning of this fateful +Tuesday. “I tell you, Marian, we’re lucky to have our tickets on the +Saronia. Five thousand dollars wouldn’t buy them from me to-day! I’ll be +a happy man when we go aboard that liner day after to-morrow.” + +Day after to-morrow! The girl wondered. At any rate, she would have that +last letter then--the letter that was to contain whatever defense +her young friend could offer to explain his dastardly act. She waited +eagerly for that final epistle. + +The day dragged on, bringing at its close England’s entrance into the +war; and the Carlton bootblack was a prophet not without honor in a +certain Texas heart. And on the following morning there arrived a letter +which was torn open by eager trembling fingers. The letter spoke: + +DEAR LADY JUDGE: This is by far the hardest to write of all the letters +you have had from me. For twenty-four hours I have been planning it. +Last night I walked on the Embankment while the hansoms jogged by and +the lights of the tramcars danced on Westminster Bridge just as the +fireflies used to in the garden back of our house in Kansas. While I +walked I planned. To-day, shut up in my rooms, I was also planning. And +yet now, when I sit down to write, I am still confused; still at a loss +where to begin and what to say, once I have begun. + +At the close of my last letter I confessed to you that it was I who +murdered Captain Fraser-Freer. That is the truth. Soften the blow as I +may, it all comes down to that. The bitter truth! + +Not a week ago--last Thursday night at seven--I climbed our dark stairs +and plunged a knife into the heart of that defenseless gentleman. If +only I could point out to you that he had offended me in some way; if I +could prove to you that his death was necessary to me, as it really +was to Inspector Bray--then there might be some hope of your ultimate +pardon. But, alas! he had been most kind to me--kinder than I have +allowed you to guess from my letters. There was no actual need to do +away with him. Where shall I look for a defense? + +At the moment the only defense I can think of is simply this--the +captain knows I killed him! + +Even as I write this, I hear his footsteps above me, as I heard them +when I sat here composing my first letter to you. He is dressing for +dinner. We are to dine together at Romano’s. + +And there, my lady, you have finally the answer to the mystery that +has--I hope--puzzled you. I killed my friend the captain in my second +letter to you, and all the odd developments that followed lived only in +my imagination as I sat here beside the green-shaded lamp in my study, +plotting how I should write seven letters to you that would, as the +novel advertisements say, grip your attention to the very end. Oh, I am +guilty--there is no denying that. And, though I do not wish to ape old +Adam and imply that I was tempted by a lovely woman, a strict regard for +the truth forces me to add that there is also guilt upon your head. +How so? Go back to that message you inserted in the Daily Mail: “The +grapefruit lady’s great fondness for mystery and romance--” + +You did not know it, of course; but in those words you passed me a +challenge I could not resist; for making plots is the business of +life--more, the breath of life--to me. I have made many; and perhaps you +have followed some of them, on Broadway. Perhaps you have seen a play of +mine announced for early production in London. There was mention of it +in the program at the Palace. That was the business which kept me in +England. The project has been abandoned now and I am free to go back +home. + +Thus you see that when you granted me the privilege of those seven +letters you played into my hands. So, said I, she longs for mystery and +romance. Then, by the Lord Harry, she shall have them! + +And it was the tramp of Captain Fraser-Freer’s boots above my head that +showed me the way. A fine, stalwart, cordial fellow--the captain--who +has been very kind to me since I presented my letter of introduction +from his cousin, Archibald Enwright. Poor Archie! A meek, correct little +soul, who would be horrified beyond expression if he knew that of him I +had made a spy and a frequenter of Limehouse! + +The dim beginnings of the plot were in my mind when I wrote that first +letter, suggesting that all was not regular in the matter of Archie’s +note of introduction. Before I wrote my second, I knew that nothing but +the death of Fraser-Freer would do me. I recalled that Indian knife I +had seen upon his desk, and from that moment he was doomed. At that +time I had no idea how I should solve the mystery. But I had read and +wondered at those four strange messages in the Mail, and I resolved that +they must figure in the scheme of things. + +The fourth letter presented difficulties until I returned from dinner +that night and saw a taxi waiting before our quiet house. Hence +the visit of the woman with the lilac perfume. I am afraid the +Wilhelmstrasse would have little use for a lady spy who advertised +herself in so foolish a manner. Time for writing the fifth letter +arrived. I felt that I should now be placed under arrest. I had a faint +little hope that you would be sorry about that. Oh, I’m a brute, I know! + +Early in the game I had told the captain of the cruel way in which I had +disposed of him. He was much amused; but he insisted, absolutely, that +he must be vindicated before the close of the series, and I was with him +there. He had been so bully about it all. A chance remark of his gave me +my solution. He said he had it on good authority that the chief of +the Czar’s bureau for capturing spies in Russia was himself a spy. And +so--why not a spy in Scotland Yard? + +I assure you, I am most contrite as I set all this down here. You must +remember that when I began my story there was no idea of war. Now all +Europe is aflame; and in the face of the great conflict, the awful +suffering to come, I and my little plot begin to look--well, I fancy you +know just how we look. + +Forgive me. I am afraid I can never find the words to tell you how +important it seemed to interest you in my letters--to make you feel that +I am an entertaining person worthy of your notice. That morning when you +entered the Carlton breakfast room was really the biggest in my life. I +felt as though you had brought with you through that doorway--But I have +no right to say it. I have the right to say nothing save that now--it +is all left to you. If I have offended, then I shall never hear from you +again. + +The captain will be here in a moment. It is near the hour set and he is +never late. He is not to return to India, but expects to be drafted for +the Expeditionary Force that will be sent to the Continent. I hope the +German Army will be kinder to him than I was! + +My name is Geoffrey West. I live at nineteen Adelphi Terrace--in rooms +that look down on the most wonderful garden in London. That, at +least, is real. It is very quiet there to-night, with the city and its +continuous hum of war and terror seemingly a million miles away. + +Shall we meet at last? The answer rests entirely with you. But, believe +me, I shall be anxiously waiting to know; and if you decide to give me a +chance to explain--to denounce myself to you in person--then a happy man +will say good-by to this garden and these dim dusty rooms and follow you +to the ends of the earth--aye, to Texas itself! + +Captain Fraser-Freer is coming down the stairs. Is this good-by forever, +my lady? With all my soul, I hope not. + +YOUR CONTRITE STRAWBERRY MAN. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +Words are futile things with which to attempt a description of the +feelings of the girl at the Carlton as she read this, the last letter +of seven written to her through the medium of her maid, Sadie Haight. +Turning the pages of the dictionary casually, one might enlist a +few--for example, amazement, anger, unbelief, wonder. Perhaps, to go +back to the letter a, even amusement. We may leave her with the solution +to the puzzle in her hand, the Saronia a little more than a day away, +and a weirdly mixed company of emotions struggling in her soul. + +And leaving her thus, let us go back to Adelphi Terrace and a young man +exceedingly worried. + +Once he knew that his letter was delivered, Mr. Geoffrey West took his +place most humbly on the anxious seat. There he writhed through the long +hours of Wednesday morning. Not to prolong this painful picture, let us +hasten to add that at three o’clock that same afternoon came a telegram +that was to end suspense. He tore it open and read: + +STRAWBERRY MAN: I shall never, never forgive, you. But we are sailing +tomorrow on the Saronia. Were you thinking of going home soon? MARIAN A. +LARNED. + +Thus it happened that, a few minutes later, to the crowd of troubled +Americans in a certain steamship booking office there was added a +wild-eyed young man who further upset all who saw him. To weary clerks +he proclaimed in fiery tones that he must sail on the Saronia. There +seemed to be no way of appeasing him. The offer of a private liner would +not have interested him. + +He raved and tore his hair. He ranted. All to no avail. There was, in +plain American, “nothing doing!” + +Damp but determined, he sought among the crowd for one who had bookings +on the Saronia. He could find, at first, no one so lucky; but finally he +ran across Tommy Gray. Gray, an old friend, admitted when pressed that +he had a passage on that most desirable boat. But the offer of all the +king’s horses and all the king’s gold left him unmoved. Much, he said, +as he would have liked to oblige, he and his wife were determined. They +would sail. + +It was then that Geoffrey West made a compact with his friend. He +secured from him the necessary steamer labels and it was arranged that +his baggage was to go aboard the Saronia as the property of Gray. + +“But,” protested Gray, “even suppose you do put this through; suppose +you do manage to sail without a ticket--where will you sleep? In chains +somewhere below, I fancy.” + +“No matter!” bubbled West. “I’ll sleep in the dining saloon, in a +lifeboat, on the lee scuppers--whatever they are. I’ll sleep in the +air, without any visible support! I’ll sleep anywhere--nowhere--but I’ll +sail! And as for irons--they don’t make ‘em strong enough to hold me.” + +At five o’clock on Thursday afternoon the Saronia slipped smoothly away +from a Liverpool dock. Twenty-five hundred Americans--about twice the +number the boat could comfortably carry--stood on her decks and cheered. +Some of those in that crowd who had millions of money were booked +for the steerage. All of them were destined to experience during that +crossing hunger, annoyance, discomfort. They were to be stepped on, sat +on, crowded and jostled. They suspected as much when the boat left the +dock. Yet they cheered! + +Gayest among them was Geoffrey West, triumphant amid the confusion. He +was safely aboard; the boat was on its way! Little did it trouble him +that he went as a stowaway, since he had no ticket; nothing but an +overwhelming determination to be on the good ship Saronia. + +That night as the Saronia stole along with all deck lights out and every +porthole curtained, West saw on the dim deck the slight figure of a +girl who meant much to him. She was standing staring out over the black +waters; and, with wildly beating heart, he approached her, not knowing +what to say, but feeling that a start must be made somehow. + +“Please pardon me for addressing--” he began. “But I want to tell you--” + +She turned, startled; and then smiled an odd little smile, which he +could not see in the dark. + +“I beg your pardon,” she said. “I haven’t met you, that I recall--” + +“I know,” he answered. “That’s going to be arranged to-morrow. Mrs. +Tommy Gray says you crossed with them--” + +“Mere steamer acquaintances,” the girl replied coldly. + +“Of course! But Mrs. Gray is a darling--she’ll fix that all right. I +just want to say, before to-morrow comes--” + +“Wouldn’t it be better to wait?” + +“I can’t! I’m on this ship without a ticket. I’ve got to go down in a +minute and tell the purser that. Maybe he’ll throw me overboard; maybe +he’ll lock me up. I don’t know what they do with people like me. Maybe +they’ll make a stoker of me. And then I shall have to stoke, with no +chance of seeing you again. So that’s why I want to say now--I’m sorry +I have such a keen imagination. It carried me away--really it did! +I didn’t mean to deceive you with those letters; but, once I got +started--You know, don’t you, that I love you with all my heart? From +the moment you came into the Carlton that morning I--” + +“Really--Mr.--Mr.--” + +“West--Geoffrey West. I adore you! What can I do to prove it? I’m going +to prove it--before this ship docks in the North River. Perhaps I’d +better talk to your father, and tell him about the Agony Column and +those seven letters--” + +“You’d better not! He’s in a terribly bad humor. The dinner was awful, +and the steward said we’d be looking back to it and calling it a banquet +before the voyage ends. Then, too, poor dad says he simply can not sleep +in the stateroom they’ve given him--” + +“All the better! I’ll see him at once. If he stands for me now he’ll +stand for me any time! And, before I go down and beard a harsh-looking +purser in his den, won’t you believe me when I say I’m deeply in love--” + +“In love with mystery and romance! In love with your own remarkable +powers of invention! Really, I can’t take you seriously--” + +“Before this voyage is ended you’ll have to. I’ll prove to you that I +care. If the purser lets me go free--” + +“You have much to prove,” the girl smiled. “To-morrow--when Mrs. Tommy +Gray introduces us--I may accept you--as a builder of plots. I happen +to know you are good. But--as--It’s too silly! Better go and have it out +with that purser.” + +Reluctantly he went. In five minutes he was back. The girl was still +standing by the rail. + +“It’s all right!” West said. “I thought I was doing something original, +but there were eleven other people in the same fix. One of them is a +billionaire from Wall Street. The purser collected some money from us +and told us to sleep on the deck--if we could find room.” + +“I’m sorry,” said the girl. “I rather fancied you in the role of +stoker.” She glanced about her at the dim deck. “Isn’t this exciting? +I’m sure this voyage is going to be filled with mystery and romance.” + +“I know it will be full of romance,” West answered. “And the mystery +will be--can I convince you--” + +“Hush!” broke in the girl. “Here comes father! I shall be very happy to +meet you--to-morrow. Poor dad! he’s looking for a place to sleep.” + +Five days later poor dad, having slept each night on deck in his clothes +while the ship plowed through a cold drizzle, and having starved in +a sadly depleted dining saloon, was a sight to move the heart of +a political opponent. Immediately after a dinner that had scarcely +satisfied a healthy Texas appetite he lounged gloomily in the deck chair +which was now his stateroom. Jauntily Geoffrey West came and sat at his +side. + +“Mr. Larned,” he said, “I’ve got something for you.” + +And, with a kindly smile, he took from his pocket and handed over a +large, warm baked potato. The Texan eagerly accepted the gift. + +“Where’d you get it?” he demanded, breaking open his treasure. + +“That’s a secret,” West answered. “But I can get as many as I want. Mr. +Larned, I can say this--you will not go hungry any longer. And there’s +something else I ought to speak of. I am sort of aiming to marry your +daughter.” + +Deep in his potato the Congressman spoke: + +“What does she say about it?” + +“Oh, she says there isn’t a chance. But--” + +“Then look out, my boy! She’s made up her mind to have you.” + +“I’m glad to hear you say that. I really ought to tell you who I am. +Also, I want you to know that, before your daughter and I met, I wrote +her seven letters--” + +“One minute,” broke in the Texan. “Before you go into all that, won’t +you be a good fellow and tell me where you got this potato?” + +West nodded. + +“Sure!” he said; and, leaning over, he whispered. + +For the first time in days a smile appeared on the face of the older +man. + +“My boy,” he said, “I feel I’m going to like you. Never mind the rest. +I heard all about you from your friend Gray; and as for those +letters--they were the only thing that made the first part of this trip +bearable. Marian gave them to me to read the night we came on board.” + +Suddenly from out of the clouds a long-lost moon appeared, and bathed +that over-crowded ocean liner in a flood of silver. West left the old +man to his potato and went to find the daughter. + +She was standing in the moonlight by the rail of the forward deck, her +eyes staring dreamily ahead toward the great country that had sent her +forth light-heartedly for to adventure and to see. She turned as West +came up. + +“I have just been talking with your father,” he said. “He tells me he +thinks you mean to take me, after all.” + +She laughed. “To-morrow night,” she answered, “will be our last on +board. I shall give you my final decision then.” + +“But that is twenty-four hours away! Must I wait so long as that?” + +“A little suspense won’t hurt you. I can’t forget those long days when I +waited for your letters--” + +“I know! But can’t you give me--just a little hint--here--to-night?” + +“I am without mercy--absolutely without mercy!” + +And then, as West’s fingers closed over her hand, she added softly: +“Not even the suspicion of a hint, my dear--except to tell you that--my +answer will be--yes.” + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Agony Column, by Earl Derr Biggers + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AGONY COLUMN *** + +***** This file should be named 1814-0.txt or 1814-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/1/1814/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/1814-0.zip b/1814-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e93f948 --- /dev/null +++ b/1814-0.zip diff --git a/1814-h.zip b/1814-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..46d4181 --- /dev/null +++ b/1814-h.zip diff --git a/1814-h/1814-h.htm b/1814-h/1814-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f3eec4d --- /dev/null +++ b/1814-h/1814-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4000 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Agony Column, by Earl Derr Biggers + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Agony Column, by Earl Derr Biggers + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Agony Column + +Author: Earl Derr Biggers + +Release Date: October 5, 2008 [EBook #1814] +Last Updated: November 1, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AGONY COLUMN *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE AGONY COLUMN + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + by Earl Derr Biggers + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + Two years ago, in July that historic summer was almost unbearably hot. It seems, looking + back, as though the big baking city in those days was meant to serve as an + anteroom of torture—an inadequate bit of preparation for the hell + that was soon to break in the guise of the Great War. About the soda-water + bar in the drug store near the Hotel Cecil many American tourists found + solace in the sirups and creams of home. Through the open windows of the + Piccadilly tea shops you might catch glimpses of the English consuming + quarts of hot tea in order to become cool. It is a paradox they swear by. + </p> + <p> + About nine o’clock on the morning of Friday, July twenty-fourth, in that + memorable year nineteen hundred and fourteen, Geoffrey West left his + apartments in Adelphi Terrace and set out for breakfast at the Carlton. He + had found the breakfast room of that dignified hotel the coolest in + London, and through some miracle, for the season had passed, strawberries + might still be had there. As he took his way through the crowded Strand, + surrounded on all sides by honest British faces wet with honest British + perspiration he thought longingly of his rooms in Washington Square, New + York. For West, despite the English sound of that Geoffrey, was as + American as Kansas, his native state, and only pressing business was at + that moment holding him in England, far from the country that glowed + unusually rosy because of its remoteness. + </p> + <p> + At the Carlton news stand West bought two morning papers—the Times + for study and the Mail for entertainment and then passed on into the + restaurant. His waiter—a tall soldierly Prussian, more blond than + West himself—saw him coming and, with a nod and a mechanical German + smile, set out for the plate of strawberries which he knew would be the + first thing desired by the American. West seated himself at his usual + table and, spreading out the Daily Mail, sought his favorite column. The + first item in that column brought a delighted smile to his face: + </p> + <p> + “The one who calls me Dearest is not genuine or they would write to me.” + </p> + <p> + Any one at all familiar with English journalism will recognize at once + what department it was that appealed most to West. During his three weeks + in London he had been following, with the keenest joy, the daily grist of + Personal Notices in the Mail. This string of intimate messages, popularly + known as the Agony Column, has long been an honored institution in the + English press. In the days of Sherlock Holmes it was in the Times that it + flourished, and many a criminal was tracked to earth after he had inserted + some alluring mysterious message in it. Later the Telegraph gave it room; + but, with the advent of halfpenny journalism, the simple souls moved en + masse to the Mail. + </p> + <p> + Tragedy and comedy mingle in the Agony Column. Erring ones are urged to + return for forgiveness; unwelcome suitors are warned that “Father has + warrant prepared; fly, Dearest One!” Loves that would shame by their ardor + Abelard and Heloise are frankly published—at ten cents a word—for + all the town to smile at. The gentleman in the brown derby states with + fervor that the blonde governess who got off the tram at Shepherd’s Bush + has quite won his heart. Will she permit his addresses? Answer; this + department. For three weeks West had found this sort of thing delicious + reading. Best of all, he could detect in these messages nothing that was + not open and innocent. At their worst they were merely an effort to + side-step old Lady Convention; this inclination was so rare in the + British, he felt it should be encouraged. Besides, he was inordinately + fond of mystery and romance, and these engaging twins hovered always about + that column. + </p> + <p> + So, while waiting for his strawberries, he smiled over the ungrammatical + outburst of the young lady who had come to doubt the genuineness of him + who called her Dearest. He passed on to the second item of the morning. + Spoke one whose heart had been completely conquered: + </p> + <p> + MY LADY sleeps. She of raven tresses. Corner seat from Victoria, Wednesday + night. Carried program. Gentleman answering inquiry desires acquaintance. + Reply here. —LE ROI. + </p> + <p> + West made a mental note to watch for the reply of raven tresses. The next + message proved to be one of Aye’s lyrics—now almost a daily feature + of the column: + </p> + <p> + DEAREST: Tender loving wishes to my dear one. Only to be with you now and + always. None “fairer in my eyes.” Your name is music to me. I love you + more than life itself, my own beautiful darling, my proud sweetheart, my + joy, my all! Jealous of everybody. Kiss your dear hands for me. Love you + only. Thine ever. —AYE. + </p> + <p> + Which, reflected West, was generous of Aye—at ten cents a word—and + in striking contrast to the penurious lover who wrote, farther along in + the column: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + —loveu dearly; wantocu; longing; missu— +</pre> + <p> + But those extremely personal notices ran not alone to love. Mystery, too, + was present, especially in the aquatic utterance: + </p> + <p> + DEFIANT MERMAID: Not mine. Alligators bitingu now. ‘Tis well; delighted. + —FIRST FISH. + </p> + <p> + And the rather sanguinary suggestion: + </p> + <p> + DE Box: First round; tooth gone. Finale. You will FORGET ME NOT. + </p> + <p> + At this point West’s strawberries arrived and even the Agony Column could + not hold his interest. When the last red berry was eaten he turned back to + read: + </p> + <p> + WATERLOO: Wed. 11:53 train. Lady who left in taxi and waved, care to know + gent, gray coat? —SINCERE. + </p> + <p> + Also the more dignified request put forward in: + </p> + <p> + GREAT CENTRAL: Gentleman who saw lady in bonnet 9 Monday morning in Great + Central Hotel lift would greatly value opportunity of obtaining + introduction. + </p> + <p> + This exhausted the joys of the Agony Column for the day, and West, like + the solid citizen he really was, took up the Times to discover what might + be the morning’s news. A great deal of space was given to the appointment + of a new principal for Dulwich College. The affairs of the heart, in which + that charming creature, Gabrielle Ray, was at the moment involved, + likewise claimed attention. And in a quite unimportant corner, in a most + unimportant manner, it was related that Austria had sent an ultimatum to + Serbia. West had read part way through this stupid little piece of news, + when suddenly the Thunderer and all its works became an uninteresting + blur. + </p> + <p> + A girl stood just inside the door of the Carlton breakfast room. + </p> + <p> + Yes; he should have pondered that despatch from Vienna. But such a girl! + It adds nothing at all to say that her hair was a dull sort of gold; her + eyes violet. Many girls have been similarly blessed. It was her manner; + the sweet way she looked with those violet eyes through a battalion of + head waiters and resplendent managers; her air of being at home here in + the Carlton or anywhere else that fate might drop her down. Unquestionably + she came from oversea—from the States. + </p> + <p> + She stepped forward into the restaurant. And now slipped also into view, + as part of the background for her, a middle-aged man, who wore the + conventional black of the statesman. He, too, bore the American label + unmistakably. Nearer and nearer to West she drew, and he saw that in her + hand she carried a copy of the Daily Mail. + </p> + <p> + West’s waiter was a master of the art of suggesting that no table in the + room was worth sitting at save that at which he held ready a chair. Thus + he lured the girl and her companion to repose not five feet from where + West sat. This accomplished, he whipped out his order book, and stood with + pencil poised, like a reporter in an American play. + </p> + <p> + “The strawberries are delicious,” he said in honeyed tones. + </p> + <p> + The man looked at the girl, a question in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Not for me, dad,” she said. “I hate them! Grapefruit, please.” + </p> + <p> + As the waiter hurried past, West hailed him. He spoke in loud defiant + tones. + </p> + <p> + “Another plate of the strawberries!” he commanded. “They are better than + ever to-day.” + </p> + <p> + For a second, as though he were part of the scenery, those violet eyes met + his with a casual impersonal glance. Then their owner slowly spread out + her own copy of the Mail. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the news?” asked the statesman, drinking deep from his glass of + water. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t ask me,” the girl answered, without looking up. “I’ve found + something more entertaining than news. Do you know—the English + papers run humorous columns! Only they aren’t called that. They’re called + Personal Notices. And such notices!” She leaned across the table. “Listen + to this: ‘Dearest: Tender loving wishes to my dear one. Only to be with + you now and always. None “fairer in my eyes.”— + </p> + <p> + The man looked uncomfortably about him. “Hush!” he pleaded. “It doesn’t + sound very nice to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Nice!” cried the girl. “Oh, but it is—quite nice. And so + deliciously open and aboveboard. ‘Your name is music to me. I love you + more—‘” + </p> + <p> + “What do we see to-day?” put in her father hastily. + </p> + <p> + “We’re going down to the City and have a look at the Temple. Thackeray + lived there once—and Oliver Goldsmith—” + </p> + <p> + “All right—the Temple it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the Tower of London. It’s full of the most romantic associations. + Especially the Bloody Tower, where those poor little princes were + murdered. Aren’t you thrilled?” + </p> + <p> + “I am if you say so.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re a dear! I promise not to tell the people back in Texas that you + showed any interest in kings and such—if you will show just a + little. Otherwise I’ll spread the awful news that you took off your hat + when King George went by.” + </p> + <p> + The statesman smiled. West felt that he, who had no business to, was + smiling with him. + </p> + <p> + The waiter returned, bringing grapefruit, and the strawberries West had + ordered. Without another look toward West, the girl put down her paper and + began her breakfasting. As often as he dared, however, West looked at her. + With patriotic pride he told himself: “Six months in Europe, and the most + beautiful thing I’ve seen comes from back home!” + </p> + <p> + When he rose reluctantly twenty minutes later his two compatriots were + still at table, discussing their plans for the day. As is usual in such + cases, the girl arranged, the man agreed. + </p> + <p> + With one last glance in her direction, West went out on the parched + pavement of Haymarket. + </p> + <p> + Slowly he walked back to his rooms. Work was waiting there for him; but + instead of getting down to it, he sat on the balcony of his study, gazing + out on the courtyard that had been his chief reason for selecting those + apartments. Here, in the heart of the city, was a bit of the countryside + transported—the green, trim, neatly tailored countryside that is the + most satisfying thing in England. There were walls on which the ivy + climbed high, narrow paths that ran between blooming beds of flowers, and + opposite his windows a seldom-opened, most romantic gate. As he sat + looking down he seemed to see there below him the girl of the Carlton. Now + she sat on the rustic bench; now she bent above the envious flowers; now + she stood at the gate that opened out to a hot sudden bit of the city. + </p> + <p> + And as he watched her there in the garden she would never enter, as he + reflected unhappily that probably he would see her no more—the idea + came to him. + </p> + <p> + At first he put it from him as absurd, impossible. She was, to apply a + fine word much abused, a lady; he supposedly a gentleman. Their sort did + not do such things. If he yielded to this temptation she would be shocked, + angry, and from him would slip that one chance in a thousand he had—the + chance of meeting her somewhere, some day. + </p> + <p> + And yet—and yet—She, too, had found the Agony Column + entertaining and—quite nice. There was a twinkle in her eyes that + bespoke a fondness for romance. She was human, fun-loving—and, above + all, the joy of youth was in her heart. + </p> + <p> + Nonsense! West went inside and walked the floor. The idea was + preposterous. Still—he smiled—it was filled with amusing + possibilities. Too bad he must put it forever away and settle down to this + stupid work! + </p> + <p> + Forever away? Well— + </p> + <p> + On the next morning, which was Saturday, West did not breakfast at the + Carlton. The girl, however, did. As she and her father sat down the old + man said: “I see you’ve got your Daily Mail.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course!” she answered. “I couldn’t do without it. Grapefruit—yes.” + </p> + <p> + She began to read. Presently her cheeks flushed and she put the paper + down. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked the Texas statesman. + </p> + <p> + “To-day,” she answered sternly, “you do the British Museum. You’ve put it + off long enough.” + </p> + <p> + The old man sighed. Fortunately he did not ask to see the Mail. If he had, + a quarter way down the column of personal notices he would have been + enraged—or perhaps only puzzled—to read: + </p> + <p> + CARLTON RESTAURANT: Nine A.M. Friday morning. Will the young woman who + preferred grapefruit to strawberries permit the young man who had two + plates of the latter to say he will not rest until he discovers some + mutual friend, that they may meet and laugh over this column together? + </p> + <p> + Lucky for the young man who liked strawberries that his nerve had failed + him and he was not present at the Carlton that morning! He would have been + quite overcome to see the stern uncompromising look on the beautiful face + of a lady at her grapefruit. So overcome, in fact, that he would probably + have left the room at once, and thus not seen the mischievous smile that + came in time to the lady’s face—not seen that she soon picked up the + paper again and read, with that smile, to the end of the column. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + The next day was Sunday; hence it brought no Mail. Slowly it dragged + along. At a ridiculously early hour Monday morning Geoffrey West was on + the street, seeking his favorite newspaper. He found it, found the Agony + Column—and nothing else. Tuesday morning again he rose early, still + hopeful. Then and there hope died. The lady at the Carlton deigned no + reply. + </p> + <p> + Well, he had lost, he told himself. He had staked all on this one bold + throw; no use. Probably if she thought of him at all it was to label him a + cheap joker, a mountebank of the halfpenny press. Richly he deserved her + scorn. + </p> + <p> + On Wednesday he slept late. He was in no haste to look into the Daily + Mail; his disappointments of the previous days had been too keen. At last, + while he was shaving, he summoned Walters, the caretaker of the building, + and sent him out to procure a certain morning paper. + </p> + <p> + Walters came back bearing rich treasure, for in the Agony Column of that + day West, his face white with lather, read joyously: + </p> + <p> + STRAWBERRY MAN: Only the grapefruit lady’s kind heart and her great + fondness for mystery and romance move her to answer. The strawberry-mad + one may write one letter a day for seven days—to prove that he is an + interesting person, worth knowing. Then—we shall see. Address: M. A. + L., care Sadie Haight, Carlton Hotel. + </p> + <p> + All day West walked on air, but with the evening came the problem of those + letters, on which depended, he felt, his entire future happiness. + Returning from dinner, he sat down at his desk near the windows that + looked out on his wonderful courtyard. The weather was still torrid, but + with the night had come a breeze to fan the hot cheek of London. It gently + stirred his curtains; rustled the papers on his desk. + </p> + <p> + He considered. Should he at once make known the eminently respectable + person he was, the hopelessly respectable people he knew? Hardly! For + then, on the instant, like a bubble bursting, would go for good all + mystery and romance, and the lady of the grapefruit would lose all + interest and listen to him no more. He spoke solemnly to his rustling + curtains. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said. “We must have mystery and romance. But where—where + shall we find them?” + </p> + <p> + On the floor above he heard the solid tramp of military boots belonging to + his neighbor, Captain Stephen Fraser-Freer, of the Twelfth Cavalry, Indian + Army, home on furlough from that colony beyond the seas. It was from that + room overhead that romance and mystery were to come in mighty store; but + Geoffrey West little suspected it at the moment. Hardly knowing what to + say, but gaining inspiration as he went along, he wrote the first of seven + letters to the lady at the Carlton. And the epistle he dropped in the post + box at midnight follows here: + </p> + <p> + DEAR LADY OF THE GRAPEFRUIT: You are very kind. Also, you are wise. Wise, + because into my clumsy little Personal you read nothing that was not + there. You knew it immediately for what it was—the timid tentative + clutch of a shy man at the skirts of Romance in passing. Believe me, old + Conservatism was with me when I wrote that message. He was fighting hard. + He followed me, struggling, shrieking, protesting, to the post box itself. + But I whipped him. Glory be! I did for him. + </p> + <p> + We are young but once, I told him. After that, what use to signal to + Romance? The lady at least, I said, will understand. He sneered at that. + He shook his silly gray head. I will admit he had me worried. But now you + have justified my faith in you. Thank you a million times for that! + </p> + <p> + Three weeks I have been in this huge, ungainly, indifferent city, longing + for the States. Three weeks the Agony Column has been my sole diversion. + And then—through the doorway of the Carlton restaurant—you + came— + </p> + <p> + It is of myself that I must write, I know. I will not, then, tell you what + is in my mind—the picture of you I carry. It would mean little to + you. Many Texan gallants, no doubt, have told you the same while the moon + was bright above you and the breeze was softly whispering through the + branches of—the branches of the—of the— + </p> + <p> + Confound it, I don’t know! I have never been in Texas. It is a vice in me + I hope soon to correct. All day I intended to look up Texas in the + encyclopedia. But all day I have dwelt in the clouds. And there are no + reference books in the clouds. + </p> + <p> + Now I am down to earth in my quiet study. Pens, ink and paper are before + me. I must prove myself a person worth knowing. + </p> + <p> + From his rooms, they say, you can tell much about a man. But, alas! these + peaceful rooms in Adelphi Terrace—I shall not tell the number—were + sublet furnished. So if you could see me now you would be judging me by + the possessions left behind by one Anthony Bartholomew. There is much dust + on them. Judge neither Anthony nor me by that. Judge rather Walters, the + caretaker, who lives in the basement with his gray-haired wife. Walters + was a gardener once, and his whole life is wrapped up in the courtyard on + which my balcony looks down. There he spends his time, while up above the + dust gathers in the corners— + </p> + <p> + Does this picture distress you, my lady? You should see the courtyard! You + would not blame Walters then. It is a sample of Paradise left at our door—that + courtyard. As English as a hedge, as neat, as beautiful. London is a roar + somewhere beyond; between our court and the great city is a magic gate, + forever closed. It was the court that led me to take these rooms. + </p> + <p> + And, since you are one who loves mystery, I am going to relate to you the + odd chain of circumstances that brought me here. + </p> + <p> + For the first link in that chain we must go back to Interlaken. Have you + been there yet? A quiet little town, lying beautiful between two + shimmering lakes, with the great Jungfrau itself for scenery. From the + dining-room of one lucky hotel you may look up at dinner and watch the + old-rose afterglow light the snow-capped mountain. You would not say then + of strawberries: “I hate them.” Or of anything else in all the world. + </p> + <p> + A month ago I was in Interlaken. One evening after dinner I strolled along + the main street, where all the hotels and shops are drawn up at attention + before the lovely mountain. In front of one of the shops I saw a + collection of walking sticks and, since I needed one for climbing, I + paused to look them over. I had been at this only a moment when a young + Englishman stepped up and also began examining the sticks. + </p> + <p> + I had made a selection from the lot and was turning away to find the + shopkeeper, when the Englishman spoke. He was lean, distinguished-looking, + though quite young, and had that well-tubbed appearance which I am + convinced is the great factor that has enabled the English to assert their + authority over colonies like Egypt and India, where men are not so + thoroughly bathed. + </p> + <p> + “Er—if you’ll pardon me, old chap,” he said. “Not that stick—if + you don’t mind my saying so. It’s not tough enough for mountain work. I + would suggest—” + </p> + <p> + To say that I was astonished is putting it mildly. If you know the English + at all, you know it is not their habit to address strangers, even under + the most pressing circumstances. Yet here was one of that haughty race + actually interfering in my selection of a stick. I ended by buying the one + he preferred, and he strolled along with me in the direction of my hotel, + chatting meantime in a fashion far from British. + </p> + <p> + We stopped at the Kursaal, where we listened to the music, had a drink and + threw away a few francs on the little horses. He came with me to the + veranda of my hotel. I was surprised, when he took his leave, to find that + he regarded me in the light of an old friend. He said he would call on me + the next morning. + </p> + <p> + I made up my mind that Archibald Enwright—for that, he told me, was + his name—was an adventurer down on his luck, who chose to forget his + British exclusiveness under the stern necessity of getting money somehow, + somewhere. The next day, I decided, I should be the victim of a touch. + </p> + <p> + But my prediction failed; Enwright seemed to have plenty of money. On that + first evening I had mentioned to him that I expected shortly to be in + London, and he often referred to the fact. As the time approached for me + to leave Interlaken he began to throw out the suggestion that he should + like to have me meet some of his people in England. This, also, was + unheard of—against all precedent. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, when I said good-by to him he pressed into my hand a letter + of introduction to his cousin, Captain Stephen Fraser-Freer, of the + Twelfth Cavalry, Indian Army, who, he said, would be glad to make me at + home in London, where he was on furlough at the time—or would be + when I reached there. + </p> + <p> + “Stephen’s a good sort,” said Enwright. “He’ll be jolly pleased to show + you the ropes. Give him my best, old boy!” + </p> + <p> + Of course I took the letter. But I puzzled greatly over the affair. What + could be the meaning of this sudden warm attachment that Archie had formed + for me? Why should he want to pass me along to his cousin at a time when + that gentleman, back home after two years in India, would be, no doubt, + extremely busy? I made up my mind I would not present the letter, despite + the fact that Archie had with great persistence wrung from me a promise to + do so. I had met many English gentlemen, and I felt they were not the sort—despite + the example of Archie—to take a wandering American to their bosoms + when he came with a mere letter. By easy stages I came on to London. Here + I met a friend, just sailing for home, who told me of some sad experiences + he had had with letters of introduction—of the cold, fishy, + “My-dear-fellow-why-trouble-me-with-it?” stares that had greeted their + presentation. Good-hearted men all, he said, but averse to strangers; an + ever-present trait in the English—always excepting Archie. + </p> + <p> + So I put the letter to Captain Fraser-Freer out of my mind. I had business + acquaintances here and a few English friends, and I found these, as + always, courteous and charming. But it is to my advantage to meet as many + people as may be, and after drifting about for a week I set out one + afternoon to call on my captain. I told myself that here was an Englishman + who had perhaps thawed a bit in the great oven of India. If not, no harm + would be done. + </p> + <p> + It was then that I came for the first time to this house on Adelphi + Terrace, for it was the address Archie had given me. Walters let me in, + and I learned from him that Captain Fraser-Freer had not yet arrived from + India. His rooms were ready—he had kept them during his absence, as + seems to be the custom over here—and he was expected soon. Perhaps—said + Walters—his wife remembered the date. He left me in the lower hall + while he went to ask her. + </p> + <p> + Waiting, I strolled to the rear of the hall. And then, through an open + window that let in the summer, I saw for the first time that courtyard + which is my great love in London—the old ivy-covered walls of brick; + the neat paths between the blooming beds; the rustic seat; the magic gate. + It was incredible that just outside lay the world’s biggest city, with all + its poverty and wealth, its sorrows and joys, its roar and rattle. Here + was a garden for Jane Austen to people with fine ladies and courtly + gentlemen—here was a garden to dream in, to adore and to cherish. + </p> + <p> + When Walters came back to tell me that his wife was uncertain as to the + exact date when the captain would return, I began to rave about that + courtyard. At once he was my friend. I had been looking for quiet lodgings + away from the hotel, and I was delighted to find that on the second floor, + directly under the captain’s rooms, there was a suite to be sublet. + </p> + <p> + Walters gave me the address of the agents; and, after submitting to an + examination that could not have been more severe if I had asked for the + hand of the senior partner’s daughter, they let me come here to live. The + garden was mine! + </p> + <p> + And the captain? Three days after I arrived I heard above me, for the + first time, the tread of his military boots. Now again my courage began to + fail. I should have preferred to leave Archie’s letter lying in my desk + and know my neighbor only by his tread above me. I felt that perhaps I had + been presumptuous in coming to live in the same house with him. But I had + represented myself to Walters as an acquaintance of the captain’s and the + caretaker had lost no time in telling me that “my friend” was safely home. + </p> + <p> + So one night, a week ago, I got up my nerve and went to the captain’s + rooms. I knocked. He called to me to enter and I stood in his study, + facing him. He was a tall handsome man, fair-haired, mustached—the + very figure that you, my lady, in your boarding-school days, would have + wished him to be. His manner, I am bound to admit, was not cordial. + </p> + <p> + “Captain,” I began, “I am very sorry to intrude—” It wasn’t the + thing to say, of course, but I was fussed. “However, I happen to be a + neighbor of yours, and I have here a letter of introduction from your + cousin, Archibald Enwright. I met him in Interlaken and we became very + good friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said the captain. + </p> + <p> + He held out his hand for the letter, as though it were evidence at a + court-martial. I passed it over, wishing I hadn’t come. He read it + through. It was a long letter, considering its nature. While I waited, + standing by his desk—he hadn’t asked me to sit down—I looked + about the room. It was much like my own study, only I think a little + dustier. Being on the third floor it was farther from the garden, + consequently Walters reached there seldom. + </p> + <p> + The captain turned back and began to read the letter again. This was + decidedly embarrassing. Glancing down, I happened to see on his desk an + odd knife, which I fancy he had brought from India. The blade was of + steel, dangerously sharp, the hilt of gold, carved to represent some + heathen figure. + </p> + <p> + Then the captain looked up from Archie’s letter and his cold gaze fell + full upon me. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” he said, “to the best of my knowledge, I have no cousin + named Archibald Enwright.” + </p> + <p> + A pleasant situation, you must admit! It’s bad enough when you come to + them with a letter from their mother, but here was I in this Englishman’s + rooms, boldly flaunting in his face a warm note of commendation from a + cousin who did not exist! + </p> + <p> + “I owe you an apology,” I said. I tried to be as haughty as he, and fell + short by about two miles. “I brought the letter in good faith.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt of that,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Evidently it was given me by some adventurer for purposes of his own,” I + went on; “though I am at a loss to guess what they could have been.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m frightfully sorry—really,” said he. But he said it with the + London inflection, which plainly implies: “I’m nothing of the sort.” + </p> + <p> + A painful pause. I felt that he ought to give me back the letter; but he + made no move to do so. And, of course, I didn’t ask for it. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—er—good night,” said I and hurried toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “Good night,” he answered, and I left him standing there with Archie’s + accursed letter in his hand. + </p> + <p> + That is the story of how I came to this house in Adelphi Terrace. There is + mystery in it, you must admit, my lady. Once or twice since that + uncomfortable call I have passed the captain on the stairs; but the halls + are very dark, and for that I am grateful. I hear him often above me; in + fact, I hear him as I write this. + </p> + <p> + Who was Archie? What was the idea? I wonder. + </p> + <p> + Ah, well, I have my garden, and for that I am indebted to Archie the + garrulous. It is nearly midnight now. The roar of London has died away to + a fretful murmur, and somehow across this baking town a breeze has found + its way. It whispers over the green grass, in the ivy that climbs my wall, + in the soft murky folds of my curtains. Whispers—what? + </p> + <p> + Whispers, perhaps, the dreams that go with this, the first of my letters + to you. They are dreams that even I dare not whisper yet. + </p> + <p> + And so—good night. + </p> + <p> + THE STRAWBERRY MAN. <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + With a smile that betrayed unusual interest, the daughter of the Texas + statesman read that letter on Thursday morning in her room at the Carlton. + There was no question about it—the first epistle from the + strawberry-mad one had caught and held her attention. All day, as she + dragged her father through picture galleries, she found herself looking + forward to another morning, wondering, eager. + </p> + <p> + But on the following morning Sadie Haight, the maid through whom this odd + correspondence was passing, had no letter to deliver. The news rather + disappointed the daughter of Texas. At noon she insisted on returning to + the hotel for luncheon, though, as her father pointed out, they were far + from the Carlton at the time. Her journey was rewarded. Letter number two + was waiting; and as she read she gasped. + </p> + <p> + DEAR LADY AT THE CARLTON: I am writing this at three in the morning, with + London silent as the grave, beyond our garden. That I am so late in + getting to it is not because I did not think of you all day yesterday; not + because I did not sit down at my desk at seven last evening to address + you. Believe me, only the most startling, the most appalling accident + could have held me up. + </p> + <p> + That most startling, most appalling accident has happened. + </p> + <p> + I am tempted to give you the news at once in one striking and terrible + sentence. And I could write that sentence. A tragedy, wrapped in mystery + as impenetrable as a London fog, has befallen our quiet little house in + Adelphi Terrace. In their basement room the Walters family, sleepless, + overwhelmed, sit silent; on the dark stairs outside my door I hear at + intervals the tramp of men on unhappy missions—But no; I must go + back to the very start of it all: + </p> + <p> + Last night I had an early dinner at Simpson’s, in the Strand—so + early that I was practically alone in the restaurant. The letter I was + about to write to you was uppermost in my mind and, having quickly dined, + I hurried back to my rooms. I remember clearly that, as I stood in the + street before our house fumbling for my keys, Big Ben on the Parliament + Buildings struck the hour of seven. The chime of the great bell rang out + in our peaceful thoroughfare like a loud and friendly greeting. + </p> + <p> + Gaining my study, I sat down at once to write. Over my head I could hear + Captain Fraser-Freer moving about—attiring himself, probably, for + dinner. I was thinking, with an amused smile, how horrified he would be if + he knew that the crude American below him had dined at the impossible hour + of six, when suddenly I heard, in that room above me, some stranger + talking in a harsh determined tone. Then came the captain’s answering + voice, calmer, more dignified. This conversation went along for some time, + growing each moment more excited. Though I could not distinguish a word of + it, I had the uncomfortable feeling that there was a controversy on; and I + remember feeling annoyed that any one should thus interfere with my + composition of your letter, which I regarded as most important, you may be + sure. + </p> + <p> + At the end of five minutes of argument there came the heavy thump-thump of + men struggling above me. It recalled my college days, when we used to hear + the fellows in the room above us throwing each other about in an excess of + youth and high spirits. But this seemed more grim, more determined, and I + did not like it.—However, I reflected that it was none of my + business. I tried to think about my letter. + </p> + <p> + The struggle ended with a particularly heavy thud that shook our ancient + house to its foundations. I sat listening, somehow very much depressed. + There was no sound. It was not entirely dark outside—the long + twilight—and the frugal Walters had not lighted the hall lamps. + Somebody was coming down the stairs very quietly—but their creaking + betrayed him. I waited for him to pass through the shaft of light that + poured from the door open at my back. At that moment Fate intervened in + the shape of a breeze through my windows, the door banged shut, and a + heavy man rushed by me in the darkness and ran down the stairs. I knew he + was heavy, because the passageway was narrow and he had to push me aside + to get by. I heard him swear beneath his breath. + </p> + <p> + Quickly I went to a hall window at the far end that looked out on the + street. But the front door did not open; no one came out. I was puzzled + for a second; then I reentered my room and hurried to my balcony. I could + make out the dim figure of a man running through the garden at the rear—that + garden of which I have so often spoken. He did not try to open the gate; + he climbed it, and so disappeared from sight into the alley. + </p> + <p> + For a moment I considered. These were odd actions, surely; but was it my + place to interfere? I remembered the cold stare in the eyes of Captain + Fraser-Freer when I presented that letter. I saw him standing motionless + in his murky study, as amiable as a statue. Would he welcome an intrusion + from me now? + </p> + <p> + Finally I made up my mind to forget these things and went down to find + Walters. He and his wife were eating their dinner in the basement. I told + him what had happened. He said he had let no visitor in to see the + captain, and was inclined to view my misgivings with a cold British eye. + However, I persuaded him to go with me to the captain’s rooms. + </p> + <p> + The captain’s door was open. Remembering that in England the way of the + intruder is hard, I ordered Walters to go first. He stepped into the room, + where the gas flickered feebly in an aged chandelier. + </p> + <p> + “My God, sir!” said Walters, a servant even now. + </p> + <p> + And at last I write that sentence: Captain Fraser-Freer of the Indian Army + lay dead on the floor, a smile that was almost a sneer on his handsome + English face! + </p> + <p> + The horror of it is strong with me now as I sit in the silent morning in + this room of mine which is so like the one in which the captain died. He + had been stabbed just over the heart, and my first thought was of that odd + Indian knife which I had seen lying on his study table. I turned quickly + to seek it, but it was gone. And as I looked at the table it came to me + that here in this dusty room there must be finger prints—many finger + prints. + </p> + <p> + The room was quite in order, despite those sounds of struggle. One or two + odd matters met my eye. On the table stood a box from a florist in Bond + Street. The lid had been removed and I saw that the box contained a number + of white asters. Beside the box lay a scarf-pin—an emerald scarab. + And not far from the captain’s body lay what is known—owing to the + German city where it is made—as a Homburg hat. + </p> + <p> + I recalled that it is most important at such times that nothing be + disturbed, and I turned to old Walters. His face was like this paper on + which I write; his knees trembled beneath him. + </p> + <p> + “Walters,” said I, “we must leave things just as they are until the police + arrive. Come with me while I notify Scotland Yard.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, sir,” said Walters. + </p> + <p> + We went down then to the telephone in the lower hall, and I called up the + Yard. I was told that an inspector would come at once and I went back to + my room to wait for him. + </p> + <p> + You can well imagine the feelings that were mine as I waited. Before this + mystery should be solved, I foresaw that I might be involved to a degree + that was unpleasant if not dangerous. Walters would remember that I first + came here as one acquainted with the captain. He had noted, I felt sure, + the lack of intimacy between the captain and myself, once the former + arrived from India. He would no doubt testify that I had been most anxious + to obtain lodgings in the same house with Fraser-Freer. Then there was the + matter of my letter from Archie. I must keep that secret, I felt sure. + Lastly, there was not a living soul to back me up in my story of the + quarrel that preceded the captain’s death, of the man who escaped by way + of the garden. + </p> + <p> + Alas, thought I, even the most stupid policeman can not fail to look upon + me with the eye of suspicion! + </p> + <p> + In about twenty minutes three men arrived from Scotland Yard. By that time + I had worked myself up into a state of absurd nervousness. I heard Walters + let them in; heard them climb the stairs and walk about in the room + overhead. In a short time Walters knocked at my door and told me that + Chief Inspector Bray desired to speak to me. As I preceded the servant up + the stairs I felt toward him as an accused murderer must feel toward the + witness who has it in his power to swear his life away. + </p> + <p> + He was a big active man—Bray; blond as are so many Englishmen. His + every move spoke efficiency. Trying to act as unconcerned as an innocent + man should—but failing miserably, I fear—I related to him my + story of the voices, the struggle, and the heavy man who had got by me in + the hall and later climbed our gate. He listened without comment. At the + end he said: + </p> + <p> + “You were acquainted with the captain?” + </p> + <p> + “Slightly,” I told him. Archie’s letter kept popping into my mind, + frightening me. “I had just met him—that is all; through a friend of + his—Archibald Enwright was the name.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Enwright in London to vouch for you?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid not. I last heard of him in Interlaken.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes? How did you happen to take rooms in this house?” + </p> + <p> + “The first time I called to see the captain he had not yet arrived from + India. I was looking for lodgings and I took a great fancy to the garden + here.” + </p> + <p> + It sounded silly, put like that. I wasn’t surprised that the inspector + eyed me with scorn. But I rather wished he hadn’t. + </p> + <p> + Bray began to walk about the room, ignoring me. + </p> + <p> + “White asters; scarab pin; Homburg hat,” he detailed, pausing before the + table where those strange exhibits lay. + </p> + <p> + A constable came forward carrying newspapers in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” Bray asked. + </p> + <p> + “The Daily Mail, sir,” said the constable. “The issues of July + twenty-seventh, twenty-eighth, twenty-ninth and thirtieth.” + </p> + <p> + Bray took the papers in his hand, glanced at them and tossed them + contemptuously into a waste-basket. He turned to Walters. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry, sir,” said Walters; “but I was so taken aback! Nothing like this + has ever happened to me before. I’ll go at once—” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Bray sharply. “Never mind. I’ll attend to it—” + </p> + <p> + There was a knock at the door. Bray called “Come!” and a slender boy, + frail but with a military bearing, entered. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Walters!” he said, smiling. “What’s up? I-” + </p> + <p> + He stopped suddenly as his eyes fell upon the divan where Fraser-Freer + lay. In an instant he was at the dead man’s side. + </p> + <p> + “Stephen!” he cried in anguish. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” demanded the inspector—rather rudely, I thought. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the captain’s brother, sir,” put in Walters. “Lieutenant Norman + Fraser-Freer, of the Royal Fusiliers.” + </p> + <p> + There fell a silence. + </p> + <p> + “A great calamity, sir—” began Walters to the boy. + </p> + <p> + I have rarely seen any one so overcome as young Fraser-Freer. Watching + him, it seemed to me that the affection existing between him and the man + on the divan must have been a beautiful thing. He turned away from his + brother at last, and Walters sought to give him some idea of what had + happened. + </p> + <p> + “You will pardon me, gentlemen,” said the lieutenant. “This has been a + terrible shock! I didn’t dream, of course—I just dropped in for a + word with—with him. And now—” + </p> + <p> + We said nothing. We let him apologize, as a true Englishman must, for his + public display of emotion. + </p> + <p> + “I’m sorry,” Bray remarked in a moment, his eyes still shifting about the + room—“especially as England may soon have great need of men like the + captain. Now, gentlemen, I want to say this: I am the Chief of the Special + Branch at the Yard. This is no ordinary murder. For reasons I can not + disclose—and, I may add, for the best interests of the empire—news + of the captain’s tragic death must be kept for the present out of the + newspapers. I mean, of course, the manner of his going. A mere death + notice, you understand—the inference being that it was a natural + taking off.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” said the lieutenant, as one who knows more than he tells. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Bray. “I shall leave you to attend to the matter, as far + as your family is concerned. You will take charge of the body. As for the + rest of you, I forbid you to mention this matter outside.” + </p> + <p> + And now Bray stood looking, with a puzzled air, at me. + </p> + <p> + “You are an American?” he said, and I judged he did not care for + Americans. + </p> + <p> + “I am,” I told him. + </p> + <p> + “Know any one at your consulate?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + Thank heaven, I did! There is an under-secretary there named Watson—I + went to college with him. I mentioned him to Bray. + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said the inspector. “You are free to go. But you must + understand that you are an important witness in this case, and if you + attempt to leave London you will be locked up.” + </p> + <p> + So I came back to my rooms, horribly entangled in a mystery that is little + to my liking. I have been sitting here in my study for some time, going + over it again and again. There have been many footsteps on the stairs, + many voices in the hall. + </p> + <p> + Waiting here for the dawn, I have come to be very sorry for the cold + handsome captain. After all, he was a man; his very tread on the floor + above, which it shall never hear again, told me that. + </p> + <p> + What does it all mean? Who was the man in the hall, the man who had argued + so loudly, who had struck so surely with that queer Indian knife? Where is + the knife now? + </p> + <p> + And, above all, what do the white asters signify? And the scarab + scarf-pin? And that absurd Homburg hat? + </p> + <p> + Lady of the Carlton, you wanted mystery. When I wrote that first letter to + you, little did I dream that I should soon have it to give you in + overwhelming measure. + </p> + <p> + And—believe me when I say it—through all this your face has + been constantly before me—your face as I saw it that bright morning + in the hotel breakfast room. You have forgiven me, I know, for the manner + in which I addressed you. I had seen your eyes and the temptation was + great—very great. + </p> + <p> + It is dawn in the garden now and London is beginning to stir. So this time + it is—good morning, my lady. + </p> + <p> + THE STRAWBERRY MAN. <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + It is hardly necessary to intimate that this letter came as something of a + shock to the young woman who received it. For the rest of that day the + many sights of London held little interest for her—so little, + indeed, that her perspiring father began to see visions of his beloved + Texas; and once hopefully suggested an early return home. The coolness + with which this idea was received plainly showed him that he was on the + wrong track; so he sighed and sought solace at the bar. + </p> + <p> + That night the two from Texas attended His Majesty’s Theater, where + Bernard Shaw’s latest play was being performed; and the witty Irishman + would have been annoyed to see the scant attention one lovely young + American in the audience gave his lines. The American in question retired + at midnight, with eager thoughts turned toward the morning. + </p> + <p> + And she was not disappointed. When her maid, a stolid Englishwoman, + appeared at her bedside early Saturday she carried a letter, which she + handed over, with the turned-up nose of one who aids but does not approve. + Quickly the girl tore it open. + </p> + <p> + DEAR Texas LADY: I am writing this late in the afternoon. The sun is + casting long black shadows on the garden lawn, and the whole world is so + bright and matter-of-fact I have to argue with myself to be convinced that + the events of that tragic night through which I passed really happened. + </p> + <p> + The newspapers this morning helped to make it all seem a dream; not a line—not + a word, that I can find. When I think of America, and how by this time the + reporters would be swarming through our house if this thing had happened + over there, I am the more astonished. But then, I know these English + papers. The great Joe Chamberlain died the other night at ten, and it was + noon the next day when the first paper to carry the story appeared—screaming + loudly that it had scored a beat. It had. Other lands, other methods. + </p> + <p> + It was probably not difficult for Bray to keep journalists such as these + in the dark. So their great ungainly sheets come out in total ignorance of + a remarkable story in Adelphi Terrace. Famished for real news, they begin + to hint at a huge war cloud on the horizon. Because tottering Austria has + declared war on tiny Serbia, because the Kaiser is to-day hurrying, with + his best dramatic effect, home to Berlin, they see all Europe shortly + bathed in blood. A nightmare born of torrid days and tossing nights! + </p> + <p> + But it is of the affair in Adelphi Terrace that you no doubt want to hear. + One sequel of the tragedy, which adds immeasurably to the mystery of it + all, has occurred, and I alone am responsible for its discovery. But to go + back: + </p> + <p> + I returned from mailing your letter at dawn this morning, very tired from + the tension of the night. I went to bed, but could not sleep. More and + more it was preying on my mind that I was in a most unhappy position. I + had not liked the looks cast at me by Inspector Bray, or his voice when he + asked how I came to live in this house. I told myself I should not be safe + until the real murderer of the poor captain was found; and so I began to + puzzle over the few clues in the case—especially over the asters, + the scarab pin and the Homburg hat. + </p> + <p> + It was then I remembered the four copies of the Daily Mail that Bray had + casually thrown into the waste-basket as of no interest. I had glanced + over his shoulder as he examined these papers, and had seen that each of + them was folded so that our favorite department—the Agony Column—was + uppermost. It happened I had in my desk copies of the Mail for the past + week. You will understand why. + </p> + <p> + I rose, found those papers, and began to read. It was then that I made the + astounding discovery to which I have alluded. + </p> + <p> + For a time after making it I was dumb with amazement, so that no course of + action came readily to mind. In the end I decided that the thing for me to + do was to wait for Bray’s return in the morning and then point out to him + the error he had made in ignoring the Mail. + </p> + <p> + Bray came in about eight o’clock and a few minutes later I heard another + man ascend the stairs. I was shaving at the time, but I quickly completed + the operation and, slipping on a bathrobe, hurried up to the captain’s + rooms. The younger brother had seen to the removal of the unfortunate + man’s body in the night, and, aside from Bray and the stranger who had + arrived almost simultaneously with him, there was no one but a sleepy-eyed + constable there. + </p> + <p> + Bray’s greeting was decidedly grouchy. The stranger, however—a tall + bronzed man—made himself known to me in the most cordial manner. He + told me he was Colonel Hughes, a close friend of the dead man; and that, + unutterably shocked and grieved, he had come to inquire whether there was + anything he might do. “Inspector,” said I, “last night in this room you + held in your hand four copies of the Daily Mail. You tossed them into that + basket as of no account. May I suggest that you rescue those copies, as I + have a rather startling matter to make clear to you?” Too grand an + official to stoop to a waste-basket, he nodded to the constable. The + latter brought the papers; and, selecting one from the lot, I spread it + out on the table. “The issue of July twenty-seventh,” I said. + </p> + <p> + I pointed to an item half-way down the column of Personal Notices. You + yourself, my lady, may read it there if you happen to have saved a copy. + It ran as follows: + </p> + <p> + “RANGOON: The asters are in full bloom in the garden at Canterbury. They + are very beautiful—especially the white ones.” + </p> + <p> + Bray grunted, and opened his little eyes. I took up the issue of the + following day—the twenty-eighth: + </p> + <p> + “RANGOON: We have been forced to sell father’s stick-pin—the emerald + scarab he brought home from Cairo.” + </p> + <p> + I had Bray’s interest now. He leaned heavily toward me, puffing. Greatly + excited, I held before his eyes the issue of the twenty-ninth: + </p> + <p> + “RANGOON: Homburg hat gone forever—caught by a breeze—into the + river.” + </p> + <p> + “And finally,” said I to the inspector, “the last message of all, in the + issue of the thirtieth of July—on sale in the streets some twelve + hours before Fraser-Freer was murdered. See!” + </p> + <p> + “RANGOON: To-night at ten. Regent Street. —Y.O.G.” + </p> + <p> + Bray was silent. + </p> + <p> + “I take it you are aware, Inspector,” I said, “that for the past two years + Captain Fraser-Freer was stationed at Rangoon.” + </p> + <p> + Still he said nothing; just looked at me with those foxy little eyes that + I was coming to detest. At last he spoke sharply: + </p> + <p> + “Just how,” he demanded, “did you happen to discover those messages? You + were not in this room last night after I left?” He turned angrily to the + constable. “I gave orders—” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I put in; “I was not in this room. I happened to have on file in my + rooms copies of the Mail, and by the merest chance—” + </p> + <p> + I saw that I had blundered. Undoubtedly my discovery of those messages was + too pat. Once again suspicion looked my way. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you very much,” said Bray. “I’ll keep this in mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you communicated with my friend at the consulate?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That’s all. Good morning.” + </p> + <p> + So I went. + </p> + <p> + I had been back in my room some twenty minutes when there came a knock on + the door, and Colonel Hughes entered. He was a genial man, in the early + forties I should say, tanned by some sun not English, and gray at the + temples. + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir,” he said without preamble, “this is a most appalling + business!” + </p> + <p> + “Decidedly,” I answered. “Will you sit down?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” He sat and gazed frankly into my eyes. “Policemen,” he added + meaningly, “are a most suspicious tribe—often without reason. I am + sorry you happen to be involved in this affair, for I may say that I fancy + you to be exactly what you seem. May I add that, if you should ever need a + friend, I am at your service?” + </p> + <p> + I was touched; I thanked him as best I could. His tone was so sympathetic + and before I realized it I was telling him the whole story—of Archie + and his letter; of my falling in love with a garden; of the startling + discovery that the captain had never heard of his cousin; and of my + subsequent unpleasant position. He leaned back in his chair and closed his + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” he said, “that no man ever carries an unsealed letter of + introduction without opening it to read just what praises have been + lavished upon him. It is human nature—I have done it often. May I + make so bold as to inquire—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I. “It was unsealed and I did read it. Considering its + purpose, it struck me as rather long. There were many warm words for me—words + beyond all reason in view of my brief acquaintance with Enwright. I also + recall that he mentioned how long he had been in Interlaken, and that he + said he expected to reach London about the first of August.” + </p> + <p> + “The first of August,” repeated the colonel. “That is to-morrow. Now—if + you’ll be so kind—just what happened last night?” + </p> + <p> + Again I ran over the events of that tragic evening—the quarrel; the + heavy figure in the hall; the escape by way of the seldom-used gate. + </p> + <p> + “My boy,” said Colonel Hughes as he rose to go, “the threads of this + tragedy stretch far—some of them to India; some to a country I will + not name. I may say frankly that I have other and greater interest in the + matter than that of the captain’s friend. For the present that is in + strict confidence between us; the police are well-meaning, but they + sometimes blunder. Did I understand you to say that you have copies of the + Mail containing those odd messages?” + </p> + <p> + “Right here in my desk,” said I. I got them for him. + </p> + <p> + “I think I shall take them—if I may,” he said. “You will, of course, + not mention this little visit of mine. We shall meet again. Good morning.” + </p> + <p> + And he went away, carrying those papers with their strange signals to + Rangoon. + </p> + <p> + Somehow I feel wonderfully cheered by his call. For the first time since + seven last evening I begin to breathe freely again. + </p> + <p> + And so, lady who likes mystery, the matter stands on the afternoon of the + last day of July, nineteen hundred and fourteen. + </p> + <p> + I shall mail you this letter to-night. It is my third to you, and it + carries with it three times the dreams that went with the first; for they + are dreams that live not only at night, when the moon is on the courtyard, + but also in the bright light of day. + </p> + <p> + Yes—I am remarkably cheered. I realize that I have not eaten at all—save + a cup of coffee from the trembling hand of Walters—since last night, + at Simpson’s. I am going now to dine. I shall begin with grapefruit. I + realize that I am suddenly very fond of grapefruit. + </p> + <p> + How bromidic to note it—we have many tastes in common! + </p> + <p> + EX-STRAWBERRY MAN. + </p> + <p> + The third letter from her correspondent of the Agony Column increased in + the mind of the lovely young woman at the Carlton the excitement and + tension the second had created. For a long time, on the Saturday morning + of its receipt, she sat in her room puzzling over the mystery of the house + in Adelphi Terrace. When first she had heard that Captain Fraser-Freer, of + the Indian Army, was dead of a knife wound over the heart, the news had + shocked her like that of the loss of some old and dear friend. She had + desired passionately the apprehension of his murderer, and had turned over + and over in her mind the possibilities of white asters, a scarab pin and a + Homburg hat. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the girl longed for the arrest of the guilty man thus keenly + because this jaunty young friend of hers—a friend whose name she did + not know—to whom, indeed, she had never spoken—was so + dangerously entangled in the affair. For, from what she knew of Geoffrey + West, from her casual glance in the restaurant and, far more, from his + letters, she liked him extremely. + </p> + <p> + And now came his third letter, in which he related the connection of that + hat, that pin and those asters with the column in the Mail which had first + brought them together. As it happened, she, too, had copies of the paper + for the first four days of the week. She went to her sitting-room, + unearthed these copies, and—gasped! For from the column in Monday’s + paper stared up at her the cryptic words to Rangoon concerning asters in a + garden at Canterbury. In the other three issues as well, she found the + identical messages her strawberry man had quoted. She sat for a moment in + deep thought; sat, in fact, until at her door came the enraged knocking of + a hungry parent who had been waiting a full hour in the lobby below for + her to join him at breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come!” boomed her father, entering at her invitation. “Don’t sit + here all day mooning. I’m hungry if you’re not.” + </p> + <p> + With quick apologies she made ready to accompany him down-stairs. Firmly, + as she planned their campaign for the day, she resolved to put from her + mind all thought of Adelphi Terrace. How well she succeeded may be judged + from a speech made by her father that night just before dinner: + </p> + <p> + “Have you lost your tongue, Marian? You’re as uncommunicative as a + newly-elected office-holder. If you can’t get a little more life into + these expeditions of ours we’ll pack up and head for home.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, patted his shoulder and promised to improve. But he appeared + to be in a gloomy mood. + </p> + <p> + “I believe we ought to go, anyhow,” he went on. “In my opinion this war is + going to spread like a prairie fire. The Kaiser got back to Berlin + yesterday. He’ll sign the mobilization orders to-day as sure as fate. For + the past week, on the Berlin Bourse, Canadian Pacific stock has been + dropping. That means they expect England to come in.” + </p> + <p> + He gazed darkly into the future. It may seem that, for an American + statesman, he had an unusual grasp of European politics. This is easily + explained by the fact that he had been talking with the bootblack at the + Carlton Hotel. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said with sudden decision, “I’ll go down to the steamship + offices early Monday morning.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + His daughter heard these words with a sinking heart. She had a most + unhappy picture of herself boarding a ship and sailing out of Liverpool or + Southampton, leaving the mystery that so engrossed her thoughts forever + unsolved. Wisely she diverted her father’s thoughts toward the question of + food. She had heard, she said, that Simpson’s, in the Strand, was an + excellent place to dine. They would go there, and walk. She suggested a + short detour that would carry them through Adelphi Terrace. It seemed she + had always wanted to see Adelphi Terrace. + </p> + <p> + As they passed through that silent Street she sought to guess, from an + inspection of the grim forbidding house fronts, back of which lay the + lovely garden, the romantic mystery. But the houses were so very much like + one another. Before one of them, she noted, a taxi waited. + </p> + <p> + After dinner her father pleaded for a music-hall as against what he called + “some highfaluting, teacup English play.” He won. Late that night, as they + rode back to the Carlton, special editions were being proclaimed in the + streets. Germany was mobilizing! + </p> + <p> + The girl from Texas retired, wondering what epistolary surprise the + morning would bring forth. It brought forth this: + </p> + <p> + DEAR DAUGHTER OF THE SENATE: Or is it Congress? I could not quite decide. + But surely in one or the other of those august bodies your father sits + when he is not at home in Texas or viewing Europe through his daughter’s + eyes. One look at him and I had gathered that. + </p> + <p> + But Washington is far from London, isn’t it? And it is London that + interests us most—though father’s constituents must not know that. + It is really a wonderful, an astounding city, once you have got the feel + of the tourist out of your soul. I have been reading the most enthralling + essays on it, written by a newspaper man who first fell desperately in + love with it at seven—an age when the whole glittering town was + symbolized for him by the fried-fish shop at the corner of the High + Street. With him I have been going through its gray and furtive + thoroughfares in the dead of night, and sometimes we have kicked an + ash-barrel and sometimes a romance. Some day I might show that London to + you—guarding you, of course, from the ash-barrels, if you are that + kind. On second thoughts, you aren’t. But I know that it is of Adelphi + Terrace and a late captain in the Indian Army that you want to hear now. + Yesterday, after my discovery of those messages in the Mail and the call + of Captain Hughes, passed without incident. Last night I mailed you my + third letter, and after wandering for a time amid the alternate glare and + gloom of the city, I went back to my rooms and smoked on my balcony while + about me the inmates of six million homes sweltered in the heat. Nothing + happened. I felt a bit disappointed, a bit cheated, as one might feel on + the first night spent at home after many successive visits to exciting + plays. To-day, the first of August dawned, and still all was quiet. + Indeed, it was not until this evening that further developments in the + sudden death of Captain Fraser-Freer arrived to disturb me. These + developments are strange ones surely, and I shall hasten to relate them. + </p> + <p> + I dined to-night at a little place in Soho. My waiter was Italian, and on + him I amused myself with the Italian in Ten Lessons of which I am + foolishly proud. We talked of Fiesole, where he had lived. Once I rode + from Fiesole down the hill to Florence in the moonlight. I remember + endless walls on which hung roses, fresh and blooming. I remember a gaunt + nunnery and two-gray-robed sisters clanging shut the gates. I remember the + searchlight from the military encampment, playing constantly over the Arno + and the roofs—the eye of Mars that, here in Europe, never closes. + And always the flowers nodding above me, stooping now and then to brush my + face. I came to think that at the end Paradise, and not a second-rate + hotel, was waiting. One may still take that ride, I fancy. Some day—some + day— + </p> + <p> + I dined in Soho. I came back to Adelphi Terrace in the hot, reeking August + dusk, reflecting that the mystery in which I was involved was, after a + fashion, standing still. In front of our house I noticed a taxi waiting. I + thought nothing of it as I entered the murky hallway and climbed the + familiar stairs. + </p> + <p> + My door stood open. It was dark in my study, save for the reflection of + the lights of London outside. As I crossed the threshold there came to my + nostrils the faint sweet perfume of lilacs. There are no lilacs in our + garden, and if there were it is not the season. No, this perfume had been + brought there by a woman—a woman who sat at my desk and raised her + head as I entered. + </p> + <p> + “You will pardon this intrusion,” she said in the correct careful English + of one who has learned the speech from a book. “I have come for a brief + word with you—then I shall go.” + </p> + <p> + I could think of nothing to say. I stood gaping like a schoolboy. + </p> + <p> + “My word,” the woman went on, “is in the nature of advice. We do not + always like those who give us advice. None the less, I trust that you will + listen.” + </p> + <p> + I found my tongue then. + </p> + <p> + “I am listening,” I said stupidly. “But first—a light—” And I + moved toward the matches on the mantelpiece. + </p> + <p> + Quickly the woman rose and faced me. I saw then that she wore a veil—not + a heavy veil, but a fluffy, attractive thing that was yet sufficient to + screen her features from me. + </p> + <p> + “I beg of you,” she cried, “no light!” And as I paused, undecided, she + added, in a tone which suggested lips that pout: “It is such a little + thing to ask—surely you will not refuse.” + </p> + <p> + I suppose I should have insisted. But her voice was charming, her manner + perfect, and that odor of lilacs reminiscent of a garden I knew long ago, + at home. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—I am grateful to you,” she answered. Her tone changed. “I + understand that, shortly after seven o’clock last Thursday evening, you + heard in the room above you the sounds of a struggle. Such has been your + testimony to the police?” + </p> + <p> + “It has,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite certain as to the hour?” I felt that she was smiling at me. + “Might it not have been later—or earlier?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure it was just after seven,” I replied. “I’ll tell you why: I had + just returned from dinner and while I was unlocking the door Big Ben on + the House of Parliament struck—” + </p> + <p> + She raised her hand. + </p> + <p> + “No matter,” she said, and there was a touch of iron in her voice. “You + are no longer sure of that. Thinking it over, you have come to the + conclusion that it may have been barely six-thirty when you heard the + noise of a struggle.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed?” said I. I tried to sound sarcastic, but I was really too + astonished by her tone. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—indeed!” she replied. “That is what you will tell Inspector + Bray when next you see him. ‘It may have been six-thirty,’ you will tell + him. ‘I have thought it over and I am not certain.’” + </p> + <p> + “Even for a very charming lady,” I said “I can not misrepresent the facts + in a matter so important. It was after seven—” + </p> + <p> + “I am not asking you to do a favor for a lady,” she replied. “I am asking + you to do a favor for yourself. If you refuse the consequences may be most + unpleasant.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m rather at a loss—” I began. + </p> + <p> + She was silent for a moment. Then she turned and I felt her looking at me + through the veil. + </p> + <p> + “Who was Archibald Enwright?” she demanded. My heart sank. I recognized + the weapon in her hands. “The police,” she went on, “do not yet know that + the letter of introduction you brought to the captain was signed by a man + who addressed Fraser-Freer as Dear Cousin, but who is completely unknown + to the family. Once that information reaches Scotland Yard, your chance of + escaping arrest is slim. + </p> + <p> + “They may not be able to fasten this crime upon you, but there will be + complications most distasteful. One’s liberty is well worth keeping—and + then, too, before the case ends, there will be wide publicity—” + </p> + <p> + “‘Well?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “That is why you are going to suffer a lapse of memory in the matter of + the hour at which you heard that struggle. As you think it over, it is + going to occur to you that it may have been six-thirty, not seven. + Otherwise—” + </p> + <p> + “Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Otherwise the letter of introduction you gave to the captain will be sent + anonymously to Inspector Bray.” + </p> + <p> + “You have that letter!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “Not I,” she answered. “But it will be sent to Bray. It will be pointed + out to him that you were posing under false colors. You could not escape!” + </p> + <p> + I was most uncomfortable. The net of suspicion seemed closing in about me. + But I was resentful, too, of the confidence in this woman’s voice. + </p> + <p> + “None the less,” said I, “I refuse to change my testimony. The truth is + the truth—” + </p> + <p> + The woman had moved to the door. She turned. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow,” she replied, “it is not unlikely you will see Inspector Bray. + As I said, I came here to give you advice. You had better take it. What + does it matter—a half-hour this way or that? And the difference is + prison for you. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + She was gone. I followed into the hall. Below, in the street, I heard the + rattle of her taxi. + </p> + <p> + I went back into my room and sat down. I was upset, and no mistake. + Outside my windows the continuous symphony of the city played on—the + busses, the trains, the never-silent voices. I gazed out. What a + tremendous acreage of dank brick houses and dank British souls! I felt + horribly alone. I may add that I felt a bit frightened, as though that + great city were slowly closing in on me. + </p> + <p> + Who was this woman of mystery? What place had she held in the life—and + perhaps in the death—of Captain Fraser-Freer? Why should she come + boldly to my rooms to make her impossible demand? + </p> + <p> + I resolved that, even at the risk of my own comfort, I would stick to the + truth. And to that resolve I would have clung had I not shortly received + another visit—this one far more inexplicable, far more surprising, + than the first. + </p> + <p> + It was about nine o’clock when Walters tapped at my door and told me two + gentlemen wished to see me. A moment later into my study walked Lieutenant + Norman Fraser-Freer and a fine old gentleman with a face that suggested + some faded portrait hanging on an aristocrat’s wall. I had never seen him + before. + </p> + <p> + “I hope it is quite convenient for you to see us,” said young + Fraser-Freer. + </p> + <p> + I assured him that it was. The boy’s face was drawn and haggard; there was + terrible suffering in his eyes, yet about him hung, like a halo, the glory + of a great resolution. + </p> + <p> + “May I present my father?” he said. “General Fraser-Freer, retired. We + have come on a matter of supreme importance—” + </p> + <p> + The old man muttered something I could not catch. I could see that he had + been hard hit by the loss of his elder son. I asked them to be seated; the + general complied, but the boy walked the floor in a manner most + distressing. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not be long,” he remarked. “Nor at a time like this is one in the + mood to be diplomatic. I will only say, sir, that we have come to ask of + you a great—a very great favor indeed. You may not see fit to grant + it. If that is the case we can not well reproach you. But if you can—” + </p> + <p> + “It is a great favor, sir!” broke in the general. “And I am in the odd + position where I do not know whether you will serve me best by granting it + or by refusing to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Father—please—if you don’t mind—” The boy’s voice was + kindly but determined. He turned to me. + </p> + <p> + “Sir—you have testified to the police that it was a bit past seven + when you heard in the room above the sounds of the struggle which—which—You + understand.” + </p> + <p> + In view of the mission of the caller who had departed a scant hour + previously, the boy’s question startled me. + </p> + <p> + “Such was my testimony,” I answered. “It was the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally,” said Lieutenant Fraser-Freer. “But—er—as a matter + of fact, we are here to ask that you alter your testimony. Could you, as a + favor to us who have suffered so cruel a loss—a favor we should + never forget—could you not make the hour of that struggle half after + six?” + </p> + <p> + I was quite overwhelmed. + </p> + <p> + “Your—reasons?” I managed at last to ask. + </p> + <p> + “I am not able to give them to you in full,” the boy answered. “I can only + say this: It happens that at seven o’clock last Thursday night I was + dining with friends at the Savoy—friends who would not be likely to + forget the occasion.” + </p> + <p> + The old general leaped to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Norman,” he cried, “I can not let you do this thing! I simply will not—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, father,” said the boy wearily. “We have threshed it all out. You + have promised—” + </p> + <p> + The old man sank back into the chair and buried his face in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “If you are willing to change your testimony,” young Fraser-Freer went on + to me, “I shall at once confess to the police that it was I who—who + murdered my brother. They suspect me. They know that late last Thursday + afternoon I purchased a revolver, for which, they believe, at the last + moment I substituted the knife. They know that I was in debt to him; that + we had quarreled about money matters; that by his death I, and I alone, + could profit.” + </p> + <p> + He broke off suddenly and came toward me, holding out his arms with a + pleading gesture I can never forget. + </p> + <p> + “Do this for me!” he cried. “Let me confess! Let me end this whole + horrible business here and now.” + </p> + <p> + Surely no man had ever to answer such an appeal before. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” I found myself saying, and over and over I repeated it—“Why? + Why?” + </p> + <p> + The lieutenant faced me, and I hope never again to see such a look in a + man’s eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I loved him!” he cried. “That is why. For his honor, for the honor of our + family, I am making this request of you. Believe me, it is not easy. I can + tell you no more than that. You knew my brother?” + </p> + <p> + “Slightly.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, for his sake—do this thing I ask.” + </p> + <p> + “But—murder—” + </p> + <p> + “You heard the sounds of a struggle. I shall say that we quarreled—that + I struck in self-defense.” He turned to his father. “It will mean only a + few years in prison—I can bear that!” he cried. “For the honor of + our name!” + </p> + <p> + The old man groaned, but did not raise his head. The boy walked back and + forth over my faded carpet like a lion caged. I stood wondering what + answer I should make. + </p> + <p> + “I know what you are thinking,” said the lieutenant. “You can not credit + your ears. But you have heard correctly. And now—as you might put it—it + is up to you. I have been in your country.” He smiled pitifully. “I think + I know you Americans. You are not the sort to refuse a man when he is sore + beset—as I am.” + </p> + <p> + I looked from him to the general and back again. + </p> + <p> + “I must think this over,” I answered, my mind going at once to Colonel + Hughes. “Later—say to-morrow—you shall have my decision.” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow,” said the boy, “we shall both be called before Inspector Bray. + I shall know your answer then—and I hope with all my heart it will + be yes.” + </p> + <p> + There were a few mumbled words of farewell and he and the broken old man + went out. As soon as the street door closed behind them I hurried to the + telephone and called a number Colonel Hughes had given me. It was with a + feeling of relief that I heard his voice come back over the wire. I told + him I must see him at once. He replied that by a singular chance he had + been on the point of starting for my rooms. + </p> + <p> + In the half-hour that elapsed before the coming of the colonel I walked + about like a man in a trance. He was barely inside my door when I began + pouring out to him the story of those two remarkable visits. He made + little comment on the woman’s call beyond asking me whether I could + describe her; and he smiled when I mentioned lilac perfume. At mention of + young Fraser-Freer’s preposterous request he whistled. + </p> + <p> + “By gad!” he said. “Interesting—most interesting! I am not + surprised, however. That boy has the stuff in him.” + </p> + <p> + “But what shall I do?” I demanded. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Hughes smiled. + </p> + <p> + “It makes little difference what you do,” he said. “Norman Fraser-Freer + did not kill his brother, and that will be proved in due time.” He + considered for a moment. “Bray no doubt would be glad to have you alter + your testimony, since he is trying to fasten the crime on the young + lieutenant. On the whole, if I were you, I think that when the opportunity + comes to-morrow I should humor the inspector.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean—tell him I am no longer certain as to the hour of that + struggle?” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely. I give you my word that young Fraser-Freer will not be + permanently incriminated by such an act on your part. And incidentally you + will be aiding me.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said I. “But I don’t understand this at all.” + </p> + <p> + “No—of course not. I wish I could explain to you; but I can not. I + will say this—the death of Captain Fraser-Freer is regarded as a + most significant thing by the War Office. Thus it happens that two + distinct hunts for his assassin are under way—one conducted by Bray, + the other by me. Bray does not suspect that I am working on the case and I + want to keep him in the dark as long as possible. You may choose which of + these investigations you wish to be identified with.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said I, “that I prefer you to Bray.” + </p> + <p> + “Good boy!” he answered. “You have not gone wrong. And you can do me a + service this evening, which is why I was on the point of coming here, even + before you telephoned me. I take it that you remember and could identify + the chap who called himself Archibald Enwright—the man who gave you + that letter to the captain?” + </p> + <p> + “I surely could,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Then, if you can spare me an hour, get your hat.” + </p> + <p> + And so it happens, lady of the Carlton, that I have just been to + Limehouse. You do not know where Limehouse is and I trust you never will. + It is picturesque; it is revolting; it is colorful and wicked. The weird + odors of it still fill my nostrils; the sinister portrait of it is still + before my eyes. It is the Chinatown of London—Limehouse. Down in the + dregs of the town—with West India Dock Road for its spinal column—it + lies, redolent of ways that are dark and tricks that are vain. Not only + the heathen Chinee so peculiar shuffles through its dim-lit alleys, but + the scum of the earth, of many colors and of many climes. The Arab and the + Hindu, the Malayan and the Jap, black men from the Congo and fair men from + Scandinavia—these you may meet there—the outpourings of all + the ships that sail the Seven Seas. There many drunken beasts, with their + pay in their pockets, seek each his favorite sin; and for those who love + most the opium, there is, at all too regular intervals, the Sign of the + Open Lamp. + </p> + <p> + We went there, Colonel Hughes and I. Up and down the narrow Causeway, + yellow at intervals with the light from gloomy shops, dark mostly because + of tightly closed shutters through which only thin jets found their way, + we walked until we came and stood at last in shadow outside the black + doorway of Harry San Li’s so-called restaurant. We waited ten, fifteen + minutes; then a man came down the Causeway and paused before that door. + There was something familiar in his jaunty walk. Then the faint glow of + the lamp that was the indication of Harry San’s real business lit his pale + face, and I knew that I had seen him last in the cool evening at + Interlaken, where Limehouse could not have lived a moment, with the + Jungfrau frowning down upon it. + </p> + <p> + “Enwright?” whispered Hughes. + </p> + <p> + “Not a doubt of it!” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” he replied with fervor. + </p> + <p> + And now another man shuffled down the street and stood suddenly straight + and waiting before the colonel. + </p> + <p> + “Stay with him,” said Hughes softly. “Don’t let him get out of your + sight.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, sir,” said the man; and, saluting, he passed on up the stairs + and whistled softly at that black depressing door. + </p> + <p> + The clock above the Millwall Docks was striking eleven as the colonel and + I caught a bus that should carry us back to a brighter, happier London. + Hughes spoke but seldom on that ride; and, repeating his advice that I + humor Inspector Bray on the morrow, he left me in the Strand. + </p> + <p> + So, my lady, here I sit in my study, waiting for that most important day + that is shortly to dawn. A full evening, you must admit. A woman with the + perfume of lilacs about her has threatened that unless I lie I shall + encounter consequences most unpleasant. A handsome young lieutenant has + begged me to tell that same lie for the honor of his family, and thus + condemn him to certain arrest and imprisonment. And I have been down into + hell, to-night and seen Archibald Enwright, of Interlaken, conniving with + the devil. + </p> + <p> + I presume I should go to bed; but I know I can not sleep. To-morrow is to + be, beyond all question, a red-letter day in the matter of the captain’s + murder. And once again, against my will, I am down to play a leading part. + </p> + <p> + The symphony of this great, gray, sad city is a mere hum in the distance + now, for it is nearly midnight. I shall mail this letter to you—post + it, I should say, since I am in London—and then I shall wait in my + dim rooms for the dawn. And as I wait I shall be thinking not always of + the captain, or his brother, or Hughes, or Limehouse and Enwright, but + often—oh, very often—of you. + </p> + <p> + In my last letter I scoffed at the idea of a great war. But when we came + back from Limehouse to-night the papers told us that the Kaiser had signed + the order to mobilize. Austria in; Serbia in; Germany, Russia and France + in. Hughes tells me that England is shortly to follow, and I suppose there + is no doubt of it. It is a frightful thing—this future that looms + before us; and I pray that for you at least it may hold only happiness. + </p> + <p> + For, my lady, when I write good night, I speak it aloud as I write; and + there is in my voice more than I dare tell you of now. + </p> + <p> + THE AGONY COLUMN MAN. + </p> + <p> + Not unwelcome to the violet eyes of the girl from Texas were the last + words of this letter, read in her room that Sunday morning. But the lines + predicting England’s early entrance into the war recalled to her mind a + most undesirable contingency. On the previous night, when the war extras + came out confirming the forecast of his favorite bootblack, her usually + calm father had shown signs of panic. He was not a man slow to act. And + she knew that, putty though he was in her hands in matters which he did + not regard as important, he could also be firm where he thought firmness + necessary. America looked even better to him than usual, and he had made + up his mind to go there immediately. There was no use in arguing with him. + </p> + <p> + At this point came a knock at her door and her father entered. One look at + his face—red, perspiring and decidedly unhappy—served to cheer + his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Been down to the steamship offices,” he panted, mopping his bald head. + “They’re open to-day, just like it was a week day—but they might as + well be closed. There’s nothing doing. Every boat’s booked up to the + rails; we can’t get out of here for two weeks—maybe more.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m sorry,” said his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “No, you ain’t! You’re delighted! You think it’s romantic to get caught + like this. Wish I had the enthusiasm of youth.” He fanned himself with a + newspaper. “Lucky I went over to the express office yesterday and loaded + up on gold. I reckon when the blow falls it’ll be tolerable hard to cash + checks in this man’s town.” + </p> + <p> + “That was a good idea.” + </p> + <p> + “Ready for breakfast?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Quite ready,” she smiled. + </p> + <p> + They went below, she humming a song from a revue, while he glared at her. + She was very glad they were to be in London a little longer. She felt she + could not go, with that mystery still unsolved. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + The last peace Sunday London was to know in many weary months went by, a + tense and anxious day. Early on Monday the fifth letter from the young man + of the Agony Column arrived, and when the girl from Texas read it she knew + that under no circumstances could she leave London now. + </p> + <p> + It ran: + </p> + <p> + DEAR LADY FROM HOME: I call you that because the word home has for me, + this hot afternoon in London, about the sweetest sound word ever had. I + can see, when I close my eyes, Broadway at midday; Fifth Avenue, gay and + colorful, even with all the best people away; Washington Square, cool + under the trees, lovely and desirable despite the presence everywhere of + alien neighbors from the district to the South. I long for home with an + ardent longing; never was London so cruel, so hopeless, so drab, in my + eyes. For, as I write this, a constable sits at my elbow, and he and I are + shortly to start for Scotland Yard. I have been arrested as a suspect in + the case of Captain Fraser-Freer’s murder! + </p> + <p> + I predicted last night that this was to be a red-letter day in the history + of that case, and I also saw myself an unwilling actor in the drama. But + little did I suspect the series of astonishing events that was to come + with the morning; little did I dream that the net I have been dreading + would to-day engulf me. I can scarcely blame Inspector Bray for holding + me; what I can not understand is why Colonel Hughes— + </p> + <p> + But you want, of course, the whole story from the beginning; and I shall + give it to you. At eleven o’clock this morning a constable called on me at + my rooms and informed me that I was wanted at once by the Chief Inspector + at the Yard. + </p> + <p> + We climbed—the constable and I—a narrow stone stairway + somewhere at the back of New Scotland Yard, and so came to the inspector’s + room. Bray was waiting for us, smiling and confident. I remember—silly + as the detail is—that he wore in his buttonhole a white rose. His + manner of greeting me was more genial than usual. He began by informing me + that the police had apprehended the man who, they believed, was guilty of + the captain’s murder. + </p> + <p> + “There is one detail to be cleared up,” he said. “You told me the other + night that it was shortly after seven o’clock when you heard the sounds of + struggle in the room above you. You were somewhat excited at the time, and + under similar circumstances men have been known to make mistakes. Have you + considered the matter since? Is it not possible that you were in error in + regard to the hour?” + </p> + <p> + I recalled Hughes’ advice to humor the inspector; and I said that, having + thought it over, I was not quite sure. It might have been earlier than + seven—say six-thirty. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” said Bray. He seemed rather pleased. “The natural stress of the + moment—I understand. Wilkinson, bring in your prisoner. The + constable addressed turned and left the room, coming back a moment later + with Lieutenant Norman Fraser-Freer. The boy was pale; I could see at a + glance that he had not slept for several nights. + </p> + <p> + “Lieutenant,” said Bray very sharply, “will you tell me—is it true + that your brother, the late captain, had loaned you a large sum of money a + year or so ago?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite true,” answered the lieutenant in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “You and he had quarreled about the amount of money you spent?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “By his death you became the sole heir of your father, the general. Your + position with the money-lenders was quite altered. Am I right?” + </p> + <p> + “I fancy so.” + </p> + <p> + “Last Thursday afternoon you went to the Army and Navy Stores and + purchased a revolver. You already had your service weapon, but to shoot a + man with a bullet from that would be to make the hunt of the police for + the murderer absurdly simple.” + </p> + <p> + The boy made no answer. + </p> + <p> + “Let us suppose,” Bray went on, “that last Thursday evening at half after + six you called on your brother in his rooms at Adelphi Terrace. There was + an argument about money. You became enraged. You saw him and him alone + between you and the fortune you needed so badly. Then—I am only + supposing—you noticed on his table an odd knife he had brought from + India—safer—more silent—than a gun. You seized it—” + </p> + <p> + “Why suppose?” the boy broke in. “I’m not trying to conceal anything. + You’re right—I did it! I killed my brother! Now let us get the whole + business over as soon as may be.” + </p> + <p> + Into the face of Inspector Bray there came at that moment a look that has + puzzling me ever since—a look that has recurred to my mind again and + again,—in the stress and storm of this eventful day. It was only too + evident that this confession came to him as a shock. I presume so easy a + victory seemed hollow to him; he was wishing the boy had put up a fight. + Policemen are probably like that. + </p> + <p> + “My boy,” he said, “I am sorry for you. My course is clear. If you will go + with one of my men—” + </p> + <p> + It was at this point that the door of the inspector’s room opened and + Colonel Hughes, cool and smiling, walked in. Bray chuckled at sight of the + military man. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Colonel,” he cried, “you make a good entrance! This morning, when I + discovered that I had the honor of having you associated with me in the + search for the captain’s murderer, you were foolish enough to make a + little wager—” + </p> + <p> + “I remember,” Hughes answered. “A scarab pin against—a Homburg hat.” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely,” said Bray. “You wagered that you, and not I, would discover + the guilty man. Well, Colonel, you owe me a scarab. Lieutenant Norman + Fraser-Freer has just told me that he killed his brother, and I was on the + point of taking down his full confession.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” replied Hughes calmly. “Interesting—most interesting! But + before we consider the wager lost—before you force the lieutenant to + confess in full—I should like the floor.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” smiled Bray. + </p> + <p> + “When you were kind enough to let me have two of your men this morning,” + said Hughes, “I told you I contemplated the arrest of a lady. I have + brought that lady to Scotland Yard with me.” He stepped to the door, + opened it and beckoned. A tall, blonde handsome woman of about thirty-five + entered; and instantly to my nostrils came the pronounced odor of lilacs. + “Allow me, Inspector,” went on the colonel, “to introduce to you the + Countess Sophie de Graf, late of Berlin, late of Delhi and Rangoon, now of + 17 Leitrim Grove, Battersea Park Road.” + </p> + <p> + The woman faced Bray; and there was a terrified, hunted look in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You are the inspector?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I am,” said Bray. + </p> + <p> + “And a man—I can see that,” she went on, her flashing angrily at + Hughes. “I appeal to you to protect me from the brutal questioning of this—this + fiend.” + </p> + <p> + “You are hardly complimentary, Countess,” Hughes smiled. “But I am willing + to forgive you if you will tell the inspector the story that you have + recently related to me.” + </p> + <p> + The woman shut her lips tightly and for a long moment gazed into the eyes + of Inspector Bray. + </p> + <p> + “He”—she said at last, nodding in the direction of Colonel Hughes—“he + got it out of me—how, I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + “Got what out of you?” Bray’s little eyes were blinking. + </p> + <p> + “At six-thirty o’clock last Thursday evening,” said the woman, “I went to + the rooms of Captain Fraser-Freer, in Adelphi Terrace. An argument arose. + I seized from his table an Indian dagger that was lying there—I + stabbed him just above the heart!” + </p> + <p> + In that room in Scotland Yard a tense silence fell. For the first time we + were all conscious of a tiny clock on the inspector’s desk, for it ticked + now with a loudness sudden and startling. I gazed at the faces about me. + Bray’s showed a momentary surprise—then the mask fell again. + Lieutenant Fraser-Freer was plainly amazed. On the face of Colonel Hughes + I saw what struck me as an open sneer. + </p> + <p> + “Go on, Countess,” he smiled. + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders and turned toward him a disdainful back. Her + eyes were all for Bray. + </p> + <p> + “It’s very brief, the story,” she said hastily—I thought almost + apologetically. “I had known the captain in Rangoon. My husband was in + business there—an exporter of rice—and Captain Fraser-Freer + came often to our house. We—he was a charming man, the captain—” + </p> + <p> + “Go on!” ordered Hughes. + </p> + <p> + “We fell desperately in love,” said the countess. “When he returned to + England, though supposedly on a furlough, he told me he would never return + to Rangoon. He expected a transfer to Egypt. So it was arranged that I + should desert my husband and follow on the next boat. I did so—believing + in the captain—thinking he really cared for me—I gave up + everything for him. And then—” + </p> + <p> + Her voice broke and she took out a handkerchief. Again that odor of lilacs + in the room. + </p> + <p> + “For a time I saw the captain often in London; and then I began to notice + a change. Back among his own kind, with the lonely days in India a mere + memory—he seemed no longer to—to care for me. Then—last + Thursday morning—he called on me to tell me that he was through; + that he would never see me again—in fact, that he was to marry a + girl of his own people who had been waiting—” + </p> + <p> + The woman looked piteously about at us. + </p> + <p> + “I was desperate,” she pleaded. “I had given up all that life held for me—given + it up for a man who now looked at me coldly and spoke of marrying another. + Can you wonder that I went in the evening to his rooms—went to plead + with him—to beg, almost on my knees? It was no use. He was done with + me—he said that over and over. Overwhelmed with blind rage and + despair, I snatched up that knife from the table and plunged it into his + heart. At once I was filled with remorse. I—” + </p> + <p> + “One moment,” broke in Hughes. “You may keep the details of your + subsequent actions until later. I should like to compliment you, Countess. + You tell it better each time.” + </p> + <p> + He came over and faced Bray. I thought there was a distinct note of + hostility in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Checkmate, Inspector!” he said. Bray made no reply. He sat there staring + up at the colonel, his face turned to stone. + </p> + <p> + “The scarab pin,” went on Hughes, “is not yet forthcoming. We are tied for + honors, my friend. You have your confession, but I have one to match it.” + </p> + <p> + “All this is beyond me,” snapped Bray. + </p> + <p> + “A bit beyond me, too,” the colonel answered. “Here are two people who + wish us to believe that on the evening of Thursday last, at half after six + of the clock, each sought out Captain Fraser-Freer in his rooms and + murdered him.” + </p> + <p> + He walked to the window and then wheeled dramatically. + </p> + <p> + “The strangest part of it all is,” he added, “that at six-thirty o’clock + last Thursday evening, at an obscure restaurant in Soho—Frigacci’s—these + two people were having tea together!” + </p> + <p> + I must admit that, as the colonel calmly offered this information, I + suddenly went limp all over at a realization of the endless maze of + mystery in which we were involved. The woman gave a little cry and + Lieutenant Fraser-Freer leaped to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “How the devil do you know that?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” said Colonel Hughes, “because one of my men happened to be + having tea at a table near by. He happened to be having tea there for the + reason that ever since the arrival of this lady in London, at the request + of—er—friends in India, I have been keeping track of her every + move; just as I kept watch over your late brother, the captain.” + </p> + <p> + Without a word Lieutenant Fraser-Freer dropped into a chair and buried his + face in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “I’m sorry, my son,” said Hughes. “Really, I am. You made a heroic effort + to keep the facts from coming out—a man’s-size effort it was. But + the War Office knew long before you did that your brother had succumbed to + this woman’s lure—that he was serving her and Berlin, and not his + own country, England.” + </p> + <p> + Fraser-Freer raised his head. When he spoke there was in his voice an + emotion vastly more sincere than that which had moved him when he made his + absurd confession. + </p> + <p> + “The game’s up,” he said. “I have done all I could. This will kill my + father, I am afraid. Ours has been an honorable name, Colonel; you know + that—a long line of military men whose loyalty to their country has + never before been in question. I thought my confession would end the whole + nasty business, that the investigations would stop, and that I might be + able to keep forever unknown this horrible thing about him—about my + brother.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Hughes laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder, and the latter went + on: “They reached me—those frightful insinuations about Stephen—in + a round about way; and when he came home from India I resolved to watch + him. I saw him go often to the house of this woman. I satisfied myself + that she was the same one involved in the stories coming from Rangoon; + then, under another name, I managed to meet her. I hinted to her that I + myself was none too loyal; not completely, but to a limited extent, I won + her confidence. Gradually I became convinced that my brother was indeed + disloyal to his country, to his name, to us all. It was at that tea time + you have mentioned when I finally made up my mind. I had already bought a + revolver; and, with it in my pocket, I went to the Savoy for dinner.” + </p> + <p> + He rose and paced the floor. + </p> + <p> + “I left the Savoy early and went to Stephen’s rooms. I was resolved to + have it out with him, to put the matter to him bluntly; and if he had no + explanation to give me I intended to kill him then and there. So, you see, + I was guilty in intention if not in reality. I entered his study. It was + filled with strangers. On his sofa I saw my brother Stephen lying—stabbed + above the heart—dead!” There was a moment’s silence. “That is all,” + said Lieutenant Fraser-Freer. + </p> + <p> + “I take it,” said Hughes kindly, “that we have finished with the + lieutenant. Eh, Inspector?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Bray shortly. “You may go.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” the boy answered. As he went out he said brokenly to Hughes: + “I must find him—my father.” + </p> + <p> + Bray sat in his chair, staring hard ahead, his jaw thrust out angrily. + Suddenly he turned on Hughes. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t play fair,” he said. “I wasn’t told anything of the status of + the captain at the War Office. This is all news to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” smiled Hughes. “The bet is off if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “No, by heaven!” Bray cried. “It’s still on, and I’ll win it yet. A fine + morning’s work I suppose you think you’ve done. But are we any nearer to + finding the murderer? Tell me that.” + </p> + <p> + “Only a bit nearer, at any rate,” replied Hughes suavely. “This lady, of + course, remains in custody.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” answered the inspector. “Take her away!” he ordered. + </p> + <p> + A constable came forward for the countess and Colonel Hughes gallantly + held open the door. + </p> + <p> + “You will have an opportunity, Sophie,” he said, “to think up another + story. You are clever—it will not be hard.” + </p> + <p> + She gave him a black look and went out. Bray got up from his desk. He and + Colonel Hughes stood facing each other across a table, and to me there was + something in the manner of each that suggested eternal conflict. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” sneered Bray. + </p> + <p> + “There is one possibility we have overlooked,” Hughes answered. He turned + toward me and I was startled by the coldness in his eyes. “Do you know, + Inspector,” he went on, “that this American came to London with a letter + of introduction to the captain—a letter from the captain’s cousin, + one Archibald Enwright? And do you know that Fraser-Freer had no cousin of + that name?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” said Bray. + </p> + <p> + “It happens to be the truth,” said Hughes. “The American has confessed as + much to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Bray to me, and his little blinking eyes were on me with a + narrow calculating glance that sent the shivers up and down my spine, “you + are under arrest. I have exempted you so far because of your friend at the + United States Consulate. That exemption ends now.” + </p> + <p> + I was thunderstruck. I turned to the colonel, the man who had suggested + that I seek him out if I needed a friend—the man I had looked to to + save me from just such a contingency as this. But his eyes were quite + fishy and unsympathetic. + </p> + <p> + “Quite correct, Inspector,” he said. “Lock him up!” And as I began to + protest he passed very close to me and spoke in a low voice: “Say nothing. + Wait!” + </p> + <p> + I pleaded to be allowed to go back to my rooms, to communicate with my + friends, and pay a visit to our consulate and to the Embassy; and at the + colonel’s suggestion Bray agreed to this somewhat irregular course. So + this afternoon I have been abroad with a constable, and while I wrote this + long letter to you he has been fidgeting in my easy chair. Now he informs + me that his patience is exhausted and that I must go at once. So there is + no time to wonder; no time to speculate as to the future, as to the + colonel’s sudden turn against me or the promise of his whisper in my ear. + I shall, no doubt, spend the night behind those hideous, forbidding walls + that your guide has pointed out to you as New Scotland Yard. And when I + shall write again, when I shall end this series of letters so filled with— + </p> + <p> + The constable will not wait. He is as impatient as a child. Surely he is + lying when he says I have kept him here an hour. + </p> + <p> + Wherever I am, dear lady, whatever be the end of this amazing tangle, you + may be sure the thought of you—Confound the man! + </p> + <p> + YOURS, IN DURANCE VILE. + </p> + <p> + This fifth letter from the young man of the Agony Column arrived at the + Carlton Hotel, as the reader may recall, on Monday morning, August the + third. And it represented to the girl from Texas the climax of the + excitement she had experienced in the matter of the murder in Adelphi + Terrace. The news that her pleasant young friend—whom she did not + know—had been arrested as a suspect in the case, inevitable as it + had seemed for days, came none the less as an unhappy shock. She wondered + whether there was anything she could do to help. She even considered going + to Scotland Yard and, on the ground that her father was a Congressman from + Texas, demanding the immediate release of her strawberry man. Sensibly, + however, she decided that Congressmen from Texas meant little in the life + of the London police. Besides, she night have difficulty in explaining to + that same Congressman how she happened to know all about a crime that was + as yet unmentioned in the newspapers. + </p> + <p> + So she reread the latter portion of the fifth letter, which pictured her + hero marched off ingloriously to Scotland Yard and with a worried little + sigh, went below to join her father. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + In the course of the morning she made several mysterious inquiries of her + parent regarding nice points of international law as it concerned murder, + and it is probable that he would have been struck by the odd nature of + these questions had he not been unduly excited about another matter. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, we’ve got to get home!” he announced gloomily. “The German + troops are ready at Aix-la-Chapelle for an assault on Liege. Yes, sir—they’re + going to strike through Belgium! Know what that means? England in the war! + Labor troubles; suffragette troubles; civil war in Ireland—these + things will melt away as quickly as that snow we had last winter in Texas. + They’ll go in. It would be national suicide if they didn’t.” + </p> + <p> + His daughter stared at him. She was unaware that it was the bootblack at + the Carlton he was now quoting. She began to think he knew more about + foreign affairs than she had given him credit for. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” he went on; “we’ve got to travel—fast. This won’t be a + healthy neighborhood for non-combatants when the ruction starts. I’m going + if I have to buy a liner!” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” said the girl. “This is the chance of a lifetime. I won’t be + cheated out of it by a silly old dad. Why, here we are, face to face with + history!” + </p> + <p> + “American history is good enough for me,” he spread-eagled. “What are you + looking at?” + </p> + <p> + “Provincial to the death!” she said thoughtfully. “You old dear—I + love you so! Some of our statesmen over home are going to look pretty + foolish now in the face of things they can’t understand, I hope you’re not + going to be one of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Twaddle!” he cried. “I’m going to the steamship offices to-day and argue + as I never argued for a vote.” + </p> + <p> + His daughter saw that he was determined; and, wise from long experience, + she did not try to dissuade him. + </p> + <p> + London that hot Monday was a city on the alert, a city of hearts heavy + with dread. The rumors in one special edition of the papers were denied in + the next and reaffirmed in the next. Men who could look into the future + walked the streets with faces far from happy. Unrest ruled the town. And + it found its echo in the heart of the girl from Texas as she thought of + her young friend of the Agony Column “in durance vile” behind the frowning + walls of Scotland Yard. + </p> + <p> + That afternoon her father appeared, with the beaming mien of the victor, + and announced that for a stupendous sum he had bought the tickets of a man + who was to have sailed on the steamship Saronia three days hence. + </p> + <p> + “The boat train leaves at ten Thursday morning,” he said. “Take your last + look at Europe and be ready.” + </p> + <p> + Three days! His daughter listened with sinking heart. Could she in three + days’ time learn the end of that strange mystery, know the final fate of + the man who had first addressed her so unconventionally in a public print? + Why, at the end of three days he might still be in Scotland Yard, a + prisoner! She could not leave if that were true—she simply could + not. Almost she was on the point of telling her father the story of the + whole affair, confident that she could soothe his anger and enlist his + aid. She decided to wait until the next morning; and, if no letter came + then— + </p> + <p> + But on Tuesday morning a letter did come and the beginning of it brought + pleasant news. The beginning—yes. But the end! This was the letter: + </p> + <p> + DEAR ANXIOUS LADY: Is it too much for me to assume that you have been just + that, knowing as you did that I was locked up for the murder of a captain + in the Indian Army, with the evidence all against me and hope a very still + small voice indeed? + </p> + <p> + Well, dear lady, be anxious no longer. I have just lived through the most + astounding day of all the astounding days that have been my portion since + last Thursday. And now, in the dusk, I sit again in my rooms, a free man, + and write to you in what peace and quiet I can command after the startling + adventure through which I have recently passed. + </p> + <p> + Suspicion no longer points to me; constables no longer eye me; Scotland + Yard is not even slightly interested in me. For the murderer of Captain + Fraser-Freer has been caught at last! + </p> + <p> + Sunday night I spent ingloriously in a cell in Scotland Yard. I could not + sleep. I had so much to think of—you, for example, and at intervals + how I might escape from the folds of the net that had closed so tightly + about me. My friend at the consulate, Watson, called on me late in the + evening; and he was very kind. But there was a note lacking in his voice, + and after he was gone the terrible certainty came into my mind—he + believed that I was guilty after all. + </p> + <p> + The night passed, and a goodly portion of to-day went by—as the + poets say—with lagging feet. I thought of London, yellow in the sun. + I thought of the Carlton—I suppose there are no more strawberries by + this time. And my waiter—that stiff-backed Prussian—is home in + Deutschland now, I presume, marching with his regiment. I thought of you. + </p> + <p> + At three o’clock this afternoon they came for me and I was led back to the + room belonging to Inspector Bray. When I entered, however, the inspector + was not there—only Colonel Hughes, immaculate and self-possessed, as + usual, gazing out the window into the cheerless stone court. He turned + when I entered. I suppose I must have had a most woebegone appearance, for + a look of regret crossed his face. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” he cried, “my most humble apologies! I intended to have + you released last night. But, believe me, I have been frightfully busy.” + </p> + <p> + I said nothing. What could I say? The fact that he had been busy struck me + as an extremely silly excuse. But the inference that my escape from the + toils of the law was imminent set my heart to thumping. + </p> + <p> + “I fear you can never forgive me for throwing you over as I did + yesterday,” he went on. “I can only say that it was absolutely necessary—as + you shall shortly understand.” + </p> + <p> + I thawed a bit. After all, there was an unmistakable sincerity in his + voice and manner. + </p> + <p> + “We are waiting for Inspector Bray,” continued the colonel. “I take it you + wish to see this thing through?” + </p> + <p> + “To the end,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “Naturally. The inspector was called away yesterday immediately after our + interview with him. He had business on the Continent, I understand. But + fortunately I managed to reach him at Dover and he has come back to + London. I wanted him, you see, because I have found the murderer of + Captain Fraser-Freer.” + </p> + <p> + I thrilled to hear that, for from my point of view it was certainly a + consummation devoutly to be wished. The colonel did not speak again. In a + few minutes the door opened and Bray came in. His clothes looked as though + he had slept in them; his little eyes were bloodshot. But in those eyes + there was a fire I shall never forget. Hughes bowed. + </p> + <p> + “Good afternoon, Inspector,” he said. “I’m really sorry I had to interrupt + you as I did; but I most awfully wanted you to know that you owe me a + Homburg hat.” He went closer to the detective. “You see, I have won that + wager. I have found the man who murdered Captain Fraser-Freer.” + </p> + <p> + Curiously enough, Bray said nothing. He sat down at his desk and idly + glanced through the pile of mail that lay upon it. Finally he looked up + and said in a weary tone: + </p> + <p> + “You’re very clever, I’m sure, Colonel Hughes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—I wouldn’t say that,” replied Hughes. “Luck was with me—from + the first. I am really very glad to have been of service in the matter, + for I am convinced that if I had not taken part in the search it would + have gone hard with some innocent man.” + </p> + <p> + Bray’s big pudgy hands still played idly with the mail on his desk. Hughes + went on: “Perhaps, as a clever detective, you will be interested in the + series of events which enabled me to win that Homburg hat? You have heard, + no doubt, that the man I have caught is Von der Herts—ten years ago + the best secret-service man in the employ of the Berlin government, but + for the past few years mysteriously missing from our line of vision. We’ve + been wondering about him—at the War Office.” + </p> + <p> + The colonel dropped into a chair, facing Bray. + </p> + <p> + “You know Von der Herts, of course?” he remarked casually. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Bray, still in that dead tired voice. + </p> + <p> + “He is the head of that crowd in England,” went on Hughes. “Rather a + feather in my cap to get him—but I mustn’t boast. Poor Fraser-Freer + would have got him if I hadn’t—only Von der Herts had the luck to + get the captain first.” + </p> + <p> + Bray raised his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You said you were going to tell me—” he began. + </p> + <p> + “And so I am,” said Hughes. “Captain Fraser-Freer got in rather a mess in + India and failed of promotion. It was suspected that he was discontented, + soured on the Service; and the Countess Sophie de Graf was set to beguile + him with her charms, to kill his loyalty and win him over to her crowd. + </p> + <p> + “It was thought she had succeeded—the Wilhelmstrasse thought so—we + at the War Office thought so, as long as he stayed in India. + </p> + <p> + “But when the captain and the woman came on to London we discovered that + we had done him a great injustice. He let us know, when the first chance + offered, that he was trying to redeem himself, to round up a dangerous + band of spies by pretending to be one of them. He said that it was his + mission in London to meet Von der Herts, the greatest of them all; and + that, once he had located this man, we would hear from him again. In the + weeks that followed I continued to keep a watch on the countess; and I + kept track of the captain, too, in a general way, for I’m ashamed to say I + was not quite sure of him.” + </p> + <p> + The colonel got up and walked to the window; then turned and continued: + “Captain Fraser-Freer and Von der Herts were completely unknown to each + other. The mails were barred as a means of communication; but Fraser-Freer + knew that in some way word from the master would reach him, and he had had + a tip to watch the personal column of the Daily Mail. Now we have the + explanation of those four odd messages. From that column the man from + Rangoon learned that he was to wear a white aster in his button-hole, a + scarab pin in his tie, a Homburg hat on his head, and meet Von der Herts + at Ye Old Gambrinus Restaurant in Regent Street, last Thursday night at + ten o’clock. As we know, he made all arrangements to comply with those + directions. He made other arrangements as well. Since it was out of the + question for him to come to Scotland Yard, by skillful maneuvering he + managed to interview an inspector of police at the Hotel Cecil. It was + agreed that on Thursday night Von der Herts would be placed under arrest + the moment he made himself known to the captain.” + </p> + <p> + Hughes paused. Bray still idled with his pile of letters, while the + colonel regarded him gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Fraser-Freer!” Hughes went on. “Unfortunately for him, Von der Herts + knew almost as soon as did the inspector that a plan was afoot to trap + him. There was but one course open to him: He located the captain’s + lodgings, went there at seven that night, and killed a loyal and brave + Englishman where he stood.” + </p> + <p> + A tense silence filled the room. I sat on the edge of my chair, wondering + just where all this unwinding of the tangle was leading us. + </p> + <p> + “I had little, indeed, to work on,” went on Hughes. “But I had this + advantage: the spy thought the police, and the police alone, were seeking + the murderer. He was at no pains to throw me off his track, because he did + not suspect that I was on it. For weeks my men had been watching the + countess. I had them continue to do so. I figured that sooner or later Von + der Herts would get in touch with her. I was right. And when at last I saw + with my own eyes the man who must, beyond all question, be Von der Herts, + I was astounded, my dear Inspector, I was overwhelmed.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” said Bray. + </p> + <p> + “I set to work then in earnest to connect him with that night in Adelphi + Terrace. All the finger marks in the captain’s study were for some reason + destroyed, but I found others outside, in the dust on that seldom-used + gate which leads from the garden. Without his knowing, I secured from the + man I suspected the imprint of his right thumb. A comparison was + startling. Next I went down into Fleet Street and luckily managed to get + hold of the typewritten copy sent to the Mail bearing those four messages. + I noticed that in these the letter a was out of alignment. I maneuvered to + get a letter written on a typewriter belonging to my man. The a was out of + alignment. Then Archibald Enwright, a renegade and waster well known to us + as serving other countries, came to England. My man and he met—at Ye + Old Gambrinus, in Regent Street. And finally, on a visit to the lodgings + of this man who, I was now certain, was Von der Herts, under the mattress + of his bed I found this knife.” + </p> + <p> + And Colonel Hughes threw down upon the inspector’s desk the knife from + India that I had last seen in the study of Captain Fraser-Freer. + </p> + <p> + “All these points of evidence were in my hands yesterday morning in this + room,” Hughes went on. “Still, the answer they gave me was so + unbelievable, so astounding, I was not satisfied; I wanted even stronger + proof. That is why I directed suspicion to my American friend here. I was + waiting. I knew that at last Von der Herts realized the danger he was in. + I felt that if opportunity were offered he would attempt to escape from + England; and then our proofs of his guilt would be unanswerable, despite + his cleverness. True enough, in the afternoon he secured the release of + the countess, and together they started for the Continent. I was lucky + enough to get him at Dover—and glad to let the lady go on.” + </p> + <p> + And now, for the first time, the startling truth struck me full in the + face as Hughes smiled down at his victim. + </p> + <p> + “Inspector Bray,” he said, “or Von der Herts, as you choose, I arrest you + on two counts: First, as the head of the Wilhelmstrasse spy system in + England; second, as the murderer of Captain Fraser-Freer. And, if you will + allow me, I wish to compliment you on your efficiency.” + </p> + <p> + Bray did not reply for a moment. I sat numb in my chair. Finally the + inspector looked up. He actually tried to smile. + </p> + <p> + “You win the hat,” he said, “but you must go to Homburg for it. I will + gladly pay all expenses.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” answered Hughes. “I hope to visit your country before long; + but I shall not be occupied with hats. Again I congratulate you. You were + a bit careless, but your position justified that. As head of the + department at Scotland Yard given over to the hunt for spies, precaution + doubtless struck you as unnecessary. How unlucky for poor Fraser-Freer + that it was to you he went to arrange for your own arrest! I got that + information from a clerk at the Cecil. You were quite right, from your + point of view, to kill him. And, as I say, you could afford to be rather + reckless. You had arranged that when the news of his murder came to + Scotland Yard you yourself would be on hand to conduct the search for the + guilty man. A happy situation, was it not?” + </p> + <p> + “It seemed so at the time,” admitted Bray; and at last I thought I + detected a note of bitterness in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “I’m very sorry—really,” said Hughes. “To-day, or to-morrow at the + latest, England will enter the war. You know what that means, Von der + Herts. The Tower of London—and a firing squad!” + </p> + <p> + Deliberately he walked away from the inspector, and stood facing the + window. Von der Herts was fingering idly that Indian knife which lay on + his desk. With a quick hunted look about the room, he raised his hand; and + before I could leap forward to stop him he had plunged the knife into his + heart. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Hughes turned round at my cry, but even at what met his eyes now + that Englishman was imperturbable. + </p> + <p> + “Too bad!” he said. “Really too bad! The man had courage and, beyond all + doubt, brains. But—this is most considerate of him. He has saved me + such a lot of trouble.” + </p> + <p> + The colonel effected my release at once; and he and I walked down + Whitehall together in the bright sun that seemed so good to me after the + bleak walls of the Yard. Again he apologized for turning suspicion my way + the previous day; but I assured him I held no grudge for that. + </p> + <p> + “One or two things I do not understand,” I said. “That letter I brought + from Interlaken—” + </p> + <p> + “Simple enough,” he replied. “Enwright—who, by the way, is now in + the Tower—wanted to communicate with Fraser-Freer, who he supposed + was a loyal member of the band. Letters sent by post seemed dangerous. + With your kind assistance he informed the captain of his whereabouts and + the date of his imminent arrival in London. Fraser-Freer, not wanting you + entangled in his plans, eliminated you by denying the existence of this + cousin—the truth, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” I asked, “did the countess call on me to demand that I alter my + testimony?” + </p> + <p> + “Bray sent her. He had rifled Fraser-Freer’s desk and he held that letter + from Enwright. He was most anxious to fix the guilt upon the young + lieutenant’s head. You and your testimony as to the hour of the crime + stood in the way. He sought to intimidate you with threats—” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “I know—you are wondering why the countess confessed to me next day. + I had the woman in rather a funk. In the meshes of my rapid-fire + questioning she became hopelessly involved. This was because she was + suddenly terrified she realized I must have been watching her for weeks, + and that perhaps Von der Herts was not so immune from suspicion as he + supposed. At the proper moment I suggested that I might have to take her + to Inspector Bray. This gave her an idea. She made her fake confession to + reach his side; once there, she warned him of his danger and they fled + together.” + </p> + <p> + We walked along a moment in silence. All about us the lurid special + editions of the afternoon were flaunting their predictions of the horror + to come. The face of the colonel was grave. + </p> + <p> + “How long had Von der Herts held his position at the Yard?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “For nearly five years,” Hughes answered. + </p> + <p> + “It seems incredible,” I murmured. + </p> + <p> + “So it does,” he answered; “but it is only the first of many incredible + things that this war will reveal. Two months from now we shall all have + forgotten it in the face of new revelations far more unbelievable.” He + sighed. “If these men about us realized the terrible ordeal that lies + ahead! Misgoverned; unprepared—I shudder at the thought of the + sacrifices we must make, many of them in vain. But I suppose that somehow, + some day, we shall muddle through.” + </p> + <p> + He bade me good-by in Trafalgar Square, saying that he must at once seek + out the father and brother of the late captain, and tell them the news—that + their kinsman was really loyal to his country. + </p> + <p> + “It will come to them as a ray of light in the dark—my news,” he + said. “And now, thank you once again.” + </p> + <p> + We parted and I came back here to my lodgings. The mystery is finally + solved, though in such a way it is difficult to believe that it was + anything but a nightmare at any time. But solved none the less; and I + should be at peace, except for one great black fact that haunts me, will + not let me rest. I must tell you, dear lady—And yet I fear it means + the end of everything. If only I can make you understand! + </p> + <p> + I have walked my floor, deep in thought, in puzzlement, in indecision. Now + I have made up my mind. There is no other way—I must tell you the + truth. + </p> + <p> + Despite the fact that Bray was Von der Herts; despite the fact that he + killed himself at the discovery—despite this and that, and + everything—Bray did not kill Captain Fraser-Freer! + </p> + <p> + On last Thursday evening, at a little after seven o’clock, I myself + climbed the stairs, entered the captain’s rooms, picked up that knife from + his desk, and stabbed him just above the heart! + </p> + <p> + What provocation I was under, what stern necessity moved me—all this + you must wait until to-morrow to know. I shall spend another anxious day + preparing my defense, hoping that through some miracle of mercy you may + forgive me—understand that there was nothing else I could do. + </p> + <p> + Do not judge, dear lady, until you know everything—until all my + evidence is in your lovely hands. + </p> + <p> + YOURS, IN ALL HUMILITY. + </p> + <p> + The first few paragraphs of this the sixth and next to the last letter + from the Agony Column man had brought a smile of relief to the face of the + girl who read. She was decidedly glad to learn that her friend no longer + languished back of those gray walls on Victoria Embankment. With + excitement that increased as she went along, she followed Colonel Hughes + as—in the letter—he moved nearer and nearer his denouement, + until finally his finger pointed to Inspector Bray sitting guilty in his + chair. This was an eminently satisfactory solution, and it served the + inspector right for locking up her friend. Then, with the suddenness of a + bomb from a Zeppelin, came, at the end, her strawberry man’s confession of + guilt. He was the murderer, after all! He admitted it! She could scarcely + believe her eyes. + </p> + <p> + Yet there it was, in ink as violet as those eyes, on the note paper that + had become so familiar to her during the thrilling week just past. She + read it a second time, and yet a third. Her amazement gave way to anger; + her cheeks flamed. Still—he had asked her not to judge until all his + evidence was in. This was a reasonable request surely, and she could not + in fairness refuse to grant it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + So began an anxious day, not only for the girl from Texas but for all + London as well. Her father was bursting with new diplomatic secrets + recently extracted from his bootblack adviser. Later, in Washington, he + was destined to be a marked man because of his grasp of the situation + abroad. No one suspected the bootblack, the power behind the throne; but + the gentleman from Texas was destined to think of that able diplomat many + times, and to wish that he still had him at his feet to advise him. + </p> + <p> + “War by midnight, sure!” he proclaimed on the morning of this fateful + Tuesday. “I tell you, Marian, we’re lucky to have our tickets on the + Saronia. Five thousand dollars wouldn’t buy them from me to-day! I’ll be a + happy man when we go aboard that liner day after to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Day after to-morrow! The girl wondered. At any rate, she would have that + last letter then—the letter that was to contain whatever defense her + young friend could offer to explain his dastardly act. She waited eagerly + for that final epistle. + </p> + <p> + The day dragged on, bringing at its close England’s entrance into the war; + and the Carlton bootblack was a prophet not without honor in a certain + Texas heart. And on the following morning there arrived a letter which was + torn open by eager trembling fingers. The letter spoke: + </p> + <p> + DEAR LADY JUDGE: This is by far the hardest to write of all the letters + you have had from me. For twenty-four hours I have been planning it. Last + night I walked on the Embankment while the hansoms jogged by and the + lights of the tramcars danced on Westminster Bridge just as the fireflies + used to in the garden back of our house in Kansas. While I walked I + planned. To-day, shut up in my rooms, I was also planning. And yet now, + when I sit down to write, I am still confused; still at a loss where to + begin and what to say, once I have begun. + </p> + <p> + At the close of my last letter I confessed to you that it was I who + murdered Captain Fraser-Freer. That is the truth. Soften the blow as I + may, it all comes down to that. The bitter truth! + </p> + <p> + Not a week ago—last Thursday night at seven—I climbed our dark + stairs and plunged a knife into the heart of that defenseless gentleman. + If only I could point out to you that he had offended me in some way; if I + could prove to you that his death was necessary to me, as it really was to + Inspector Bray—then there might be some hope of your ultimate + pardon. But, alas! he had been most kind to me—kinder than I have + allowed you to guess from my letters. There was no actual need to do away + with him. Where shall I look for a defense? + </p> + <p> + At the moment the only defense I can think of is simply this—the + captain knows I killed him! + </p> + <p> + Even as I write this, I hear his footsteps above me, as I heard them when + I sat here composing my first letter to you. He is dressing for dinner. We + are to dine together at Romano’s. + </p> + <p> + And there, my lady, you have finally the answer to the mystery that has—I + hope—puzzled you. I killed my friend the captain in my second letter + to you, and all the odd developments that followed lived only in my + imagination as I sat here beside the green-shaded lamp in my study, + plotting how I should write seven letters to you that would, as the novel + advertisements say, grip your attention to the very end. Oh, I am guilty—there + is no denying that. And, though I do not wish to ape old Adam and imply + that I was tempted by a lovely woman, a strict regard for the truth forces + me to add that there is also guilt upon your head. How so? Go back to that + message you inserted in the Daily Mail: “The grapefruit lady’s great + fondness for mystery and romance—” + </p> + <p> + You did not know it, of course; but in those words you passed me a + challenge I could not resist; for making plots is the business of life—more, + the breath of life—to me. I have made many; and perhaps you have + followed some of them, on Broadway. Perhaps you have seen a play of mine + announced for early production in London. There was mention of it in the + program at the Palace. That was the business which kept me in England. The + project has been abandoned now and I am free to go back home. + </p> + <p> + Thus you see that when you granted me the privilege of those seven letters + you played into my hands. So, said I, she longs for mystery and romance. + Then, by the Lord Harry, she shall have them! + </p> + <p> + And it was the tramp of Captain Fraser-Freer’s boots above my head that + showed me the way. A fine, stalwart, cordial fellow—the captain—who + has been very kind to me since I presented my letter of introduction from + his cousin, Archibald Enwright. Poor Archie! A meek, correct little soul, + who would be horrified beyond expression if he knew that of him I had made + a spy and a frequenter of Limehouse! + </p> + <p> + The dim beginnings of the plot were in my mind when I wrote that first + letter, suggesting that all was not regular in the matter of Archie’s note + of introduction. Before I wrote my second, I knew that nothing but the + death of Fraser-Freer would do me. I recalled that Indian knife I had seen + upon his desk, and from that moment he was doomed. At that time I had no + idea how I should solve the mystery. But I had read and wondered at those + four strange messages in the Mail, and I resolved that they must figure in + the scheme of things. + </p> + <p> + The fourth letter presented difficulties until I returned from dinner that + night and saw a taxi waiting before our quiet house. Hence the visit of + the woman with the lilac perfume. I am afraid the Wilhelmstrasse would + have little use for a lady spy who advertised herself in so foolish a + manner. Time for writing the fifth letter arrived. I felt that I should + now be placed under arrest. I had a faint little hope that you would be + sorry about that. Oh, I’m a brute, I know! + </p> + <p> + Early in the game I had told the captain of the cruel way in which I had + disposed of him. He was much amused; but he insisted, absolutely, that he + must be vindicated before the close of the series, and I was with him + there. He had been so bully about it all. A chance remark of his gave me + my solution. He said he had it on good authority that the chief of the + Czar’s bureau for capturing spies in Russia was himself a spy. And so—why + not a spy in Scotland Yard? + </p> + <p> + I assure you, I am most contrite as I set all this down here. You must + remember that when I began my story there was no idea of war. Now all + Europe is aflame; and in the face of the great conflict, the awful + suffering to come, I and my little plot begin to look—well, I fancy + you know just how we look. + </p> + <p> + Forgive me. I am afraid I can never find the words to tell you how + important it seemed to interest you in my letters—to make you feel + that I am an entertaining person worthy of your notice. That morning when + you entered the Carlton breakfast room was really the biggest in my life. + I felt as though you had brought with you through that doorway—But I + have no right to say it. I have the right to say nothing save that now—it + is all left to you. If I have offended, then I shall never hear from you + again. + </p> + <p> + The captain will be here in a moment. It is near the hour set and he is + never late. He is not to return to India, but expects to be drafted for + the Expeditionary Force that will be sent to the Continent. I hope the + German Army will be kinder to him than I was! + </p> + <p> + My name is Geoffrey West. I live at nineteen Adelphi Terrace—in + rooms that look down on the most wonderful garden in London. That, at + least, is real. It is very quiet there to-night, with the city and its + continuous hum of war and terror seemingly a million miles away. + </p> + <p> + Shall we meet at last? The answer rests entirely with you. But, believe + me, I shall be anxiously waiting to know; and if you decide to give me a + chance to explain—to denounce myself to you in person—then a + happy man will say good-by to this garden and these dim dusty rooms and + follow you to the ends of the earth—aye, to Texas itself! + </p> + <p> + Captain Fraser-Freer is coming down the stairs. Is this good-by forever, + my lady? With all my soul, I hope not. + </p> + <p> + YOUR CONTRITE STRAWBERRY MAN. <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + Words are futile things with which to attempt a description of the + feelings of the girl at the Carlton as she read this, the last letter of + seven written to her through the medium of her maid, Sadie Haight. Turning + the pages of the dictionary casually, one might enlist a few—for + example, amazement, anger, unbelief, wonder. Perhaps, to go back to the + letter a, even amusement. We may leave her with the solution to the puzzle + in her hand, the Saronia a little more than a day away, and a weirdly + mixed company of emotions struggling in her soul. + </p> + <p> + And leaving her thus, let us go back to Adelphi Terrace and a young man + exceedingly worried. + </p> + <p> + Once he knew that his letter was delivered, Mr. Geoffrey West took his + place most humbly on the anxious seat. There he writhed through the long + hours of Wednesday morning. Not to prolong this painful picture, let us + hasten to add that at three o’clock that same afternoon came a telegram + that was to end suspense. He tore it open and read: + </p> + <p> + STRAWBERRY MAN: I shall never, never forgive, you. But we are sailing + tomorrow on the Saronia. Were you thinking of going home soon? MARIAN A. + LARNED. + </p> + <p> + Thus it happened that, a few minutes later, to the crowd of troubled + Americans in a certain steamship booking office there was added a + wild-eyed young man who further upset all who saw him. To weary clerks he + proclaimed in fiery tones that he must sail on the Saronia. There seemed + to be no way of appeasing him. The offer of a private liner would not have + interested him. + </p> + <p> + He raved and tore his hair. He ranted. All to no avail. There was, in + plain American, “nothing doing!” + </p> + <p> + Damp but determined, he sought among the crowd for one who had bookings on + the Saronia. He could find, at first, no one so lucky; but finally he ran + across Tommy Gray. Gray, an old friend, admitted when pressed that he had + a passage on that most desirable boat. But the offer of all the king’s + horses and all the king’s gold left him unmoved. Much, he said, as he + would have liked to oblige, he and his wife were determined. They would + sail. + </p> + <p> + It was then that Geoffrey West made a compact with his friend. He secured + from him the necessary steamer labels and it was arranged that his baggage + was to go aboard the Saronia as the property of Gray. + </p> + <p> + “But,” protested Gray, “even suppose you do put this through; suppose you + do manage to sail without a ticket—where will you sleep? In chains + somewhere below, I fancy.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter!” bubbled West. “I’ll sleep in the dining saloon, in a + lifeboat, on the lee scuppers—whatever they are. I’ll sleep in the + air, without any visible support! I’ll sleep anywhere—nowhere—but + I’ll sail! And as for irons—they don’t make ‘em strong enough to + hold me.” + </p> + <p> + At five o’clock on Thursday afternoon the Saronia slipped smoothly away + from a Liverpool dock. Twenty-five hundred Americans—about twice the + number the boat could comfortably carry—stood on her decks and + cheered. Some of those in that crowd who had millions of money were booked + for the steerage. All of them were destined to experience during that + crossing hunger, annoyance, discomfort. They were to be stepped on, sat + on, crowded and jostled. They suspected as much when the boat left the + dock. Yet they cheered! + </p> + <p> + Gayest among them was Geoffrey West, triumphant amid the confusion. He was + safely aboard; the boat was on its way! Little did it trouble him that he + went as a stowaway, since he had no ticket; nothing but an overwhelming + determination to be on the good ship Saronia. + </p> + <p> + That night as the Saronia stole along with all deck lights out and every + porthole curtained, West saw on the dim deck the slight figure of a girl + who meant much to him. She was standing staring out over the black waters; + and, with wildly beating heart, he approached her, not knowing what to + say, but feeling that a start must be made somehow. + </p> + <p> + “Please pardon me for addressing—” he began. “But I want to tell you—” + </p> + <p> + She turned, startled; and then smiled an odd little smile, which he could + not see in the dark. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” she said. “I haven’t met you, that I recall—” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” he answered. “That’s going to be arranged to-morrow. Mrs. Tommy + Gray says you crossed with them—” + </p> + <p> + “Mere steamer acquaintances,” the girl replied coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course! But Mrs. Gray is a darling—she’ll fix that all right. I + just want to say, before to-morrow comes—” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn’t it be better to wait?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t! I’m on this ship without a ticket. I’ve got to go down in a + minute and tell the purser that. Maybe he’ll throw me overboard; maybe + he’ll lock me up. I don’t know what they do with people like me. Maybe + they’ll make a stoker of me. And then I shall have to stoke, with no + chance of seeing you again. So that’s why I want to say now—I’m + sorry I have such a keen imagination. It carried me away—really it + did! I didn’t mean to deceive you with those letters; but, once I got + started—You know, don’t you, that I love you with all my heart? From + the moment you came into the Carlton that morning I—” + </p> + <p> + “Really—Mr.—Mr.—” + </p> + <p> + “West—Geoffrey West. I adore you! What can I do to prove it? I’m + going to prove it—before this ship docks in the North River. Perhaps + I’d better talk to your father, and tell him about the Agony Column and + those seven letters—” + </p> + <p> + “You’d better not! He’s in a terribly bad humor. The dinner was awful, and + the steward said we’d be looking back to it and calling it a banquet + before the voyage ends. Then, too, poor dad says he simply can not sleep + in the stateroom they’ve given him—” + </p> + <p> + “All the better! I’ll see him at once. If he stands for me now he’ll stand + for me any time! And, before I go down and beard a harsh-looking purser in + his den, won’t you believe me when I say I’m deeply in love—” + </p> + <p> + “In love with mystery and romance! In love with your own remarkable powers + of invention! Really, I can’t take you seriously—” + </p> + <p> + “Before this voyage is ended you’ll have to. I’ll prove to you that I + care. If the purser lets me go free—” + </p> + <p> + “You have much to prove,” the girl smiled. “To-morrow—when Mrs. + Tommy Gray introduces us—I may accept you—as a builder of + plots. I happen to know you are good. But—as—It’s too silly! + Better go and have it out with that purser.” + </p> + <p> + Reluctantly he went. In five minutes he was back. The girl was still + standing by the rail. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right!” West said. “I thought I was doing something original, + but there were eleven other people in the same fix. One of them is a + billionaire from Wall Street. The purser collected some money from us and + told us to sleep on the deck—if we could find room.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m sorry,” said the girl. “I rather fancied you in the role of stoker.” + She glanced about her at the dim deck. “Isn’t this exciting? I’m sure this + voyage is going to be filled with mystery and romance.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it will be full of romance,” West answered. “And the mystery will + be—can I convince you—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” broke in the girl. “Here comes father! I shall be very happy to + meet you—to-morrow. Poor dad! he’s looking for a place to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + Five days later poor dad, having slept each night on deck in his clothes + while the ship plowed through a cold drizzle, and having starved in a + sadly depleted dining saloon, was a sight to move the heart of a political + opponent. Immediately after a dinner that had scarcely satisfied a healthy + Texas appetite he lounged gloomily in the deck chair which was now his + stateroom. Jauntily Geoffrey West came and sat at his side. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Larned,” he said, “I’ve got something for you.” + </p> + <p> + And, with a kindly smile, he took from his pocket and handed over a large, + warm baked potato. The Texan eagerly accepted the gift. + </p> + <p> + “Where’d you get it?” he demanded, breaking open his treasure. + </p> + <p> + “That’s a secret,” West answered. “But I can get as many as I want. Mr. + Larned, I can say this—you will not go hungry any longer. And + there’s something else I ought to speak of. I am sort of aiming to marry + your daughter.” + </p> + <p> + Deep in his potato the Congressman spoke: + </p> + <p> + “What does she say about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she says there isn’t a chance. But—” + </p> + <p> + “Then look out, my boy! She’s made up her mind to have you.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m glad to hear you say that. I really ought to tell you who I am. Also, + I want you to know that, before your daughter and I met, I wrote her seven + letters—” + </p> + <p> + “One minute,” broke in the Texan. “Before you go into all that, won’t you + be a good fellow and tell me where you got this potato?” + </p> + <p> + West nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” he said; and, leaning over, he whispered. + </p> + <p> + For the first time in days a smile appeared on the face of the older man. + </p> + <p> + “My boy,” he said, “I feel I’m going to like you. Never mind the rest. I + heard all about you from your friend Gray; and as for those letters—they + were the only thing that made the first part of this trip bearable. Marian + gave them to me to read the night we came on board.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly from out of the clouds a long-lost moon appeared, and bathed that + over-crowded ocean liner in a flood of silver. West left the old man to + his potato and went to find the daughter. + </p> + <p> + She was standing in the moonlight by the rail of the forward deck, her + eyes staring dreamily ahead toward the great country that had sent her + forth light-heartedly for to adventure and to see. She turned as West came + up. + </p> + <p> + “I have just been talking with your father,” he said. “He tells me he + thinks you mean to take me, after all.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed. “To-morrow night,” she answered, “will be our last on board. + I shall give you my final decision then.” + </p> + <p> + “But that is twenty-four hours away! Must I wait so long as that?” + </p> + <p> + “A little suspense won’t hurt you. I can’t forget those long days when I + waited for your letters—” + </p> + <p> + “I know! But can’t you give me—just a little hint—here—to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “I am without mercy—absolutely without mercy!” + </p> + <p> + And then, as West’s fingers closed over her hand, she added softly: “Not + even the suspicion of a hint, my dear—except to tell you that—my + answer will be—yes.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Agony Column, by Earl Derr Biggers + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AGONY COLUMN *** + +***** This file should be named 1814-h.htm or 1814-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/1/1814/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Agony Column + +Author: Earl Derr Biggers + +Posting Date: October 5, 2008 [EBook #1814] +Release Date: July, 1999 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AGONY COLUMN *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer + + + + + +THE AGONY COLUMN + +by Earl Derr Biggers + + + +CHAPTER I + +London that historic summer was almost unbearably hot. It seems, looking +back, as though the big baking city in those days was meant to serve as +an anteroom of torture--an inadequate bit of preparation for the +hell that was soon to break in the guise of the Great War. About the +soda-water bar in the drug store near the Hotel Cecil many American +tourists found solace in the sirups and creams of home. Through the +open windows of the Piccadilly tea shops you might catch glimpses of +the English consuming quarts of hot tea in order to become cool. It is a +paradox they swear by. + +About nine o'clock on the morning of Friday, July twenty-fourth, in that +memorable year nineteen hundred and fourteen, Geoffrey West left his +apartments in Adelphi Terrace and set out for breakfast at the Carlton. +He had found the breakfast room of that dignified hotel the coolest +in London, and through some miracle, for the season had passed, +strawberries might still be had there. As he took his way through the +crowded Strand, surrounded on all sides by honest British faces wet +with honest British perspiration he thought longingly of his rooms in +Washington Square, New York. For West, despite the English sound of that +Geoffrey, was as American as Kansas, his native state, and only pressing +business was at that moment holding him in England, far from the country +that glowed unusually rosy because of its remoteness. + +At the Carlton news stand West bought two morning papers--the Times +for study and the Mail for entertainment and then passed on into the +restaurant. His waiter--a tall soldierly Prussian, more blond than West +himself--saw him coming and, with a nod and a mechanical German smile, +set out for the plate of strawberries which he knew would be the first +thing desired by the American. West seated himself at his usual table +and, spreading out the Daily Mail, sought his favorite column. The first +item in that column brought a delighted smile to his face: + +"The one who calls me Dearest is not genuine or they would write to me." + +Any one at all familiar with English journalism will recognize at once +what department it was that appealed most to West. During his three +weeks in London he had been following, with the keenest joy, the daily +grist of Personal Notices in the Mail. This string of intimate +messages, popularly known as the Agony Column, has long been an honored +institution in the English press. In the days of Sherlock Holmes it +was in the Times that it flourished, and many a criminal was tracked +to earth after he had inserted some alluring mysterious message in it. +Later the Telegraph gave it room; but, with the advent of halfpenny +journalism, the simple souls moved en masse to the Mail. + +Tragedy and comedy mingle in the Agony Column. Erring ones are urged to +return for forgiveness; unwelcome suitors are warned that "Father has +warrant prepared; fly, Dearest One!" Loves that would shame by their +ardor Abelard and Heloise are frankly published--at ten cents a +word--for all the town to smile at. The gentleman in the brown derby +states with fervor that the blonde governess who got off the tram at +Shepherd's Bush has quite won his heart. Will she permit his addresses? +Answer; this department. For three weeks West had found this sort of +thing delicious reading. Best of all, he could detect in these messages +nothing that was not open and innocent. At their worst they were merely +an effort to side-step old Lady Convention; this inclination was so +rare in the British, he felt it should be encouraged. Besides, he was +inordinately fond of mystery and romance, and these engaging twins +hovered always about that column. + + +So, while waiting for his strawberries, he smiled over the ungrammatical +outburst of the young lady who had come to doubt the genuineness of him +who called her Dearest. He passed on to the second item of the morning. +Spoke one whose heart had been completely conquered: + +MY LADY sleeps. She of raven tresses. Corner seat from Victoria, +Wednesday night. Carried program. Gentleman answering inquiry desires +acquaintance. Reply here. --LE ROI. + +West made a mental note to watch for the reply of raven tresses. The +next message proved to be one of Aye's lyrics--now almost a daily +feature of the column: + +DEAREST: Tender loving wishes to my dear one. Only to be with you now +and always. None "fairer in my eyes." Your name is music to me. I +love you more than life itself, my own beautiful darling, my proud +sweetheart, my joy, my all! Jealous of everybody. Kiss your dear hands +for me. Love you only. Thine ever. --AYE. + +Which, reflected West, was generous of Aye--at ten cents a word--and in +striking contrast to the penurious lover who wrote, farther along in the +column: + + --loveu dearly; wantocu; longing; missu-- + +But those extremely personal notices ran not alone to love. Mystery, +too, was present, especially in the aquatic utterance: + +DEFIANT MERMAID: Not mine. Alligators bitingu now. 'Tis well; delighted. +--FIRST FISH. + +And the rather sanguinary suggestion: + +DE Box: First round; tooth gone. Finale. You will FORGET ME NOT. + +At this point West's strawberries arrived and even the Agony Column +could not hold his interest. When the last red berry was eaten he turned +back to read: + +WATERLOO: Wed. 11:53 train. Lady who left in taxi and waved, care to +know gent, gray coat? --SINCERE. + +Also the more dignified request put forward in: + +GREAT CENTRAL: Gentleman who saw lady in bonnet 9 Monday morning in +Great Central Hotel lift would greatly value opportunity of obtaining +introduction. + +This exhausted the joys of the Agony Column for the day, and West, like +the solid citizen he really was, took up the Times to discover what +might be the morning's news. A great deal of space was given to the +appointment of a new principal for Dulwich College. The affairs of the +heart, in which that charming creature, Gabrielle Ray, was at the moment +involved, likewise claimed attention. And in a quite unimportant corner, +in a most unimportant manner, it was related that Austria had sent an +ultimatum to Serbia. West had read part way through this stupid little +piece of news, when suddenly the Thunderer and all its works became an +uninteresting blur. + +A girl stood just inside the door of the Carlton breakfast room. + +Yes; he should have pondered that despatch from Vienna. But such a girl! +It adds nothing at all to say that her hair was a dull sort of gold; her +eyes violet. Many girls have been similarly blessed. It was her manner; +the sweet way she looked with those violet eyes through a battalion of +head waiters and resplendent managers; her air of being at home here +in the Carlton or anywhere else that fate might drop her down. +Unquestionably she came from oversea--from the States. + +She stepped forward into the restaurant. And now slipped also into +view, as part of the background for her, a middle-aged man, who wore the +conventional black of the statesman. He, too, bore the American label +unmistakably. Nearer and nearer to West she drew, and he saw that in her +hand she carried a copy of the Daily Mail. + +West's waiter was a master of the art of suggesting that no table in the +room was worth sitting at save that at which he held ready a chair. Thus +he lured the girl and her companion to repose not five feet from where +West sat. This accomplished, he whipped out his order book, and stood +with pencil poised, like a reporter in an American play. + +"The strawberries are delicious," he said in honeyed tones. + +The man looked at the girl, a question in his eyes. + +"Not for me, dad," she said. "I hate them! Grapefruit, please." + +As the waiter hurried past, West hailed him. He spoke in loud defiant +tones. + +"Another plate of the strawberries!" he commanded. "They are better than +ever to-day." + +For a second, as though he were part of the scenery, those violet eyes +met his with a casual impersonal glance. Then their owner slowly spread +out her own copy of the Mail. + +"What's the news?" asked the statesman, drinking deep from his glass of +water. + +"Don't ask me," the girl answered, without looking up. "I've found +something more entertaining than news. Do you know--the English papers +run humorous columns! Only they aren't called that. They're called +Personal Notices. And such notices!" She leaned across the table. +"Listen to this: 'Dearest: Tender loving wishes to my dear one. Only to +be with you now and always. None "fairer in my eyes."-- + +The man looked uncomfortably about him. "Hush!" he pleaded. "It doesn't +sound very nice to me." + +"Nice!" cried the girl. "Oh, but it is--quite nice. And so deliciously +open and aboveboard. 'Your name is music to me. I love you more--'" + +"What do we see to-day?" put in her father hastily. + +"We're going down to the City and have a look at the Temple. Thackeray +lived there once--and Oliver Goldsmith--" + +"All right--the Temple it is." + +"Then the Tower of London. It's full of the most romantic associations. +Especially the Bloody Tower, where those poor little princes were +murdered. Aren't you thrilled?" + +"I am if you say so." + +"You're a dear! I promise not to tell the people back in Texas that you +showed any interest in kings and such--if you will show just a little. +Otherwise I'll spread the awful news that you took off your hat when +King George went by." + +The statesman smiled. West felt that he, who had no business to, was +smiling with him. + +The waiter returned, bringing grapefruit, and the strawberries West had +ordered. Without another look toward West, the girl put down her paper +and began her breakfasting. As often as he dared, however, West looked +at her. With patriotic pride he told himself: "Six months in Europe, and +the most beautiful thing I've seen comes from back home!" + +When he rose reluctantly twenty minutes later his two compatriots were +still at table, discussing their plans for the day. As is usual in such +cases, the girl arranged, the man agreed. + +With one last glance in her direction, West went out on the parched +pavement of Haymarket. + +Slowly he walked back to his rooms. Work was waiting there for him; +but instead of getting down to it, he sat on the balcony of his study, +gazing out on the courtyard that had been his chief reason for selecting +those apartments. Here, in the heart of the city, was a bit of the +countryside transported--the green, trim, neatly tailored countryside +that is the most satisfying thing in England. There were walls on which +the ivy climbed high, narrow paths that ran between blooming beds of +flowers, and opposite his windows a seldom-opened, most romantic gate. +As he sat looking down he seemed to see there below him the girl of the +Carlton. Now she sat on the rustic bench; now she bent above the envious +flowers; now she stood at the gate that opened out to a hot sudden bit +of the city. + +And as he watched her there in the garden she would never enter, as he +reflected unhappily that probably he would see her no more--the idea +came to him. + +At first he put it from him as absurd, impossible. She was, to apply a +fine word much abused, a lady; he supposedly a gentleman. Their sort +did not do such things. If he yielded to this temptation she would be +shocked, angry, and from him would slip that one chance in a thousand he +had--the chance of meeting her somewhere, some day. + +And yet--and yet--She, too, had found the Agony Column entertaining +and--quite nice. There was a twinkle in her eyes that bespoke a fondness +for romance. She was human, fun-loving--and, above all, the joy of youth +was in her heart. + +Nonsense! West went inside and walked the floor. The idea was +preposterous. Still--he smiled--it was filled with amusing +possibilities. Too bad he must put it forever away and settle down to +this stupid work! + +Forever away? Well-- + +On the next morning, which was Saturday, West did not breakfast at the +Carlton. The girl, however, did. As she and her father sat down the old +man said: "I see you've got your Daily Mail." + +"Of course!" she answered. "I couldn't do without it. Grapefruit--yes." + +She began to read. Presently her cheeks flushed and she put the paper +down. + +"What is it?" asked the Texas statesman. + +"To-day," she answered sternly, "you do the British Museum. You've put +it off long enough." + +The old man sighed. Fortunately he did not ask to see the Mail. If he +had, a quarter way down the column of personal notices he would have +been enraged--or perhaps only puzzled--to read: + +CARLTON RESTAURANT: Nine A.M. Friday morning. Will the young woman who +preferred grapefruit to strawberries permit the young man who had two +plates of the latter to say he will not rest until he discovers some +mutual friend, that they may meet and laugh over this column together? + +Lucky for the young man who liked strawberries that his nerve had failed +him and he was not present at the Carlton that morning! He would +have been quite overcome to see the stern uncompromising look on the +beautiful face of a lady at her grapefruit. So overcome, in fact, that +he would probably have left the room at once, and thus not seen the +mischievous smile that came in time to the lady's face--not seen that +she soon picked up the paper again and read, with that smile, to the end +of the column. + + + +CHAPTER II + +The next day was Sunday; hence it brought no Mail. Slowly it dragged +along. At a ridiculously early hour Monday morning Geoffrey West was on +the street, seeking his favorite newspaper. He found it, found the Agony +Column--and nothing else. Tuesday morning again he rose early, still +hopeful. Then and there hope died. The lady at the Carlton deigned no +reply. + +Well, he had lost, he told himself. He had staked all on this one bold +throw; no use. Probably if she thought of him at all it was to label him +a cheap joker, a mountebank of the halfpenny press. Richly he deserved +her scorn. + +On Wednesday he slept late. He was in no haste to look into the Daily +Mail; his disappointments of the previous days had been too keen. At +last, while he was shaving, he summoned Walters, the caretaker of the +building, and sent him out to procure a certain morning paper. + +Walters came back bearing rich treasure, for in the Agony Column of that +day West, his face white with lather, read joyously: + +STRAWBERRY MAN: Only the grapefruit lady's kind heart and her great +fondness for mystery and romance move her to answer. The strawberry-mad +one may write one letter a day for seven days--to prove that he is an +interesting person, worth knowing. Then--we shall see. Address: M. A. +L., care Sadie Haight, Carlton Hotel. + +All day West walked on air, but with the evening came the problem of +those letters, on which depended, he felt, his entire future happiness. +Returning from dinner, he sat down at his desk near the windows that +looked out on his wonderful courtyard. The weather was still torrid, +but with the night had come a breeze to fan the hot cheek of London. It +gently stirred his curtains; rustled the papers on his desk. + +He considered. Should he at once make known the eminently respectable +person he was, the hopelessly respectable people he knew? Hardly! For +then, on the instant, like a bubble bursting, would go for good all +mystery and romance, and the lady of the grapefruit would lose all +interest and listen to him no more. He spoke solemnly to his rustling +curtains. + +"No," he said. "We must have mystery and romance. But where--where shall +we find them?" + +On the floor above he heard the solid tramp of military boots belonging +to his neighbor, Captain Stephen Fraser-Freer, of the Twelfth Cavalry, +Indian Army, home on furlough from that colony beyond the seas. It was +from that room overhead that romance and mystery were to come in mighty +store; but Geoffrey West little suspected it at the moment. Hardly +knowing what to say, but gaining inspiration as he went along, he wrote +the first of seven letters to the lady at the Carlton. And the epistle +he dropped in the post box at midnight follows here: + +DEAR LADY OF THE GRAPEFRUIT: You are very kind. Also, you are wise. +Wise, because into my clumsy little Personal you read nothing that was +not there. You knew it immediately for what it was--the timid tentative +clutch of a shy man at the skirts of Romance in passing. Believe me, +old Conservatism was with me when I wrote that message. He was fighting +hard. He followed me, struggling, shrieking, protesting, to the post box +itself. But I whipped him. Glory be! I did for him. + +We are young but once, I told him. After that, what use to signal to +Romance? The lady at least, I said, will understand. He sneered at that. +He shook his silly gray head. I will admit he had me worried. But now +you have justified my faith in you. Thank you a million times for that! + +Three weeks I have been in this huge, ungainly, indifferent city, +longing for the States. Three weeks the Agony Column has been my sole +diversion. And then--through the doorway of the Carlton restaurant--you +came-- + +It is of myself that I must write, I know. I will not, then, tell you +what is in my mind--the picture of you I carry. It would mean little +to you. Many Texan gallants, no doubt, have told you the same while the +moon was bright above you and the breeze was softly whispering through +the branches of--the branches of the--of the-- + +Confound it, I don't know! I have never been in Texas. It is a vice in +me I hope soon to correct. All day I intended to look up Texas in the +encyclopedia. But all day I have dwelt in the clouds. And there are no +reference books in the clouds. + +Now I am down to earth in my quiet study. Pens, ink and paper are before +me. I must prove myself a person worth knowing. + +From his rooms, they say, you can tell much about a man. But, +alas! these peaceful rooms in Adelphi Terrace--I shall not tell the +number--were sublet furnished. So if you could see me now you would be +judging me by the possessions left behind by one Anthony Bartholomew. +There is much dust on them. Judge neither Anthony nor me by that. +Judge rather Walters, the caretaker, who lives in the basement with his +gray-haired wife. Walters was a gardener once, and his whole life is +wrapped up in the courtyard on which my balcony looks down. There he +spends his time, while up above the dust gathers in the corners-- + +Does this picture distress you, my lady? You should see the courtyard! +You would not blame Walters then. It is a sample of Paradise left at +our door--that courtyard. As English as a hedge, as neat, as beautiful. +London is a roar somewhere beyond; between our court and the great city +is a magic gate, forever closed. It was the court that led me to take +these rooms. + +And, since you are one who loves mystery, I am going to relate to you +the odd chain of circumstances that brought me here. + +For the first link in that chain we must go back to Interlaken. Have +you been there yet? A quiet little town, lying beautiful between two +shimmering lakes, with the great Jungfrau itself for scenery. From the +dining-room of one lucky hotel you may look up at dinner and watch the +old-rose afterglow light the snow-capped mountain. You would not say +then of strawberries: "I hate them." Or of anything else in all the +world. + +A month ago I was in Interlaken. One evening after dinner I strolled +along the main street, where all the hotels and shops are drawn up at +attention before the lovely mountain. In front of one of the shops I saw +a collection of walking sticks and, since I needed one for climbing, I +paused to look them over. I had been at this only a moment when a young +Englishman stepped up and also began examining the sticks. + +I had made a selection from the lot and was turning away to find +the shopkeeper, when the Englishman spoke. He was lean, +distinguished-looking, though quite young, and had that well-tubbed +appearance which I am convinced is the great factor that has enabled the +English to assert their authority over colonies like Egypt and India, +where men are not so thoroughly bathed. + +"Er--if you'll pardon me, old chap," he said. "Not that stick--if you +don't mind my saying so. It's not tough enough for mountain work. I +would suggest--" + +To say that I was astonished is putting it mildly. If you know the +English at all, you know it is not their habit to address strangers, +even under the most pressing circumstances. Yet here was one of that +haughty race actually interfering in my selection of a stick. I ended +by buying the one he preferred, and he strolled along with me in the +direction of my hotel, chatting meantime in a fashion far from British. + +We stopped at the Kursaal, where we listened to the music, had a drink +and threw away a few francs on the little horses. He came with me to the +veranda of my hotel. I was surprised, when he took his leave, to find +that he regarded me in the light of an old friend. He said he would call +on me the next morning. + +I made up my mind that Archibald Enwright--for that, he told me, was +his name--was an adventurer down on his luck, who chose to forget +his British exclusiveness under the stern necessity of getting money +somehow, somewhere. The next day, I decided, I should be the victim of a +touch. + +But my prediction failed; Enwright seemed to have plenty of money. On +that first evening I had mentioned to him that I expected shortly to be +in London, and he often referred to the fact. As the time approached +for me to leave Interlaken he began to throw out the suggestion that he +should like to have me meet some of his people in England. This, also, +was unheard of--against all precedent. + +Nevertheless, when I said good-by to him he pressed into my hand a +letter of introduction to his cousin, Captain Stephen Fraser-Freer, of +the Twelfth Cavalry, Indian Army, who, he said, would be glad to make +me at home in London, where he was on furlough at the time--or would be +when I reached there. + +"Stephen's a good sort," said Enwright. "He'll be jolly pleased to show +you the ropes. Give him my best, old boy!" + +Of course I took the letter. But I puzzled greatly over the affair. +What could be the meaning of this sudden warm attachment that Archie had +formed for me? Why should he want to pass me along to his cousin at a +time when that gentleman, back home after two years in India, would +be, no doubt, extremely busy? I made up my mind I would not present the +letter, despite the fact that Archie had with great persistence wrung +from me a promise to do so. I had met many English gentlemen, and I +felt they were not the sort--despite the example of Archie--to take a +wandering American to their bosoms when he came with a mere letter. By +easy stages I came on to London. Here I met a friend, just sailing for +home, who told me of some sad experiences he had had with letters +of introduction--of the cold, fishy, +"My-dear-fellow-why-trouble-me-with-it?" stares that had greeted their +presentation. Good-hearted men all, he said, but averse to strangers; an +ever-present trait in the English--always excepting Archie. + +So I put the letter to Captain Fraser-Freer out of my mind. I had +business acquaintances here and a few English friends, and I found +these, as always, courteous and charming. But it is to my advantage to +meet as many people as may be, and after drifting about for a week I set +out one afternoon to call on my captain. I told myself that here was an +Englishman who had perhaps thawed a bit in the great oven of India. If +not, no harm would be done. + +It was then that I came for the first time to this house on Adelphi +Terrace, for it was the address Archie had given me. Walters let me in, +and I learned from him that Captain Fraser-Freer had not yet arrived +from India. His rooms were ready--he had kept them during his absence, +as seems to be the custom over here--and he was expected soon. +Perhaps--said Walters--his wife remembered the date. He left me in the +lower hall while he went to ask her. + +Waiting, I strolled to the rear of the hall. And then, through an open +window that let in the summer, I saw for the first time that courtyard +which is my great love in London--the old ivy-covered walls of brick; +the neat paths between the blooming beds; the rustic seat; the magic +gate. It was incredible that just outside lay the world's biggest city, +with all its poverty and wealth, its sorrows and joys, its roar and +rattle. Here was a garden for Jane Austen to people with fine ladies +and courtly gentlemen--here was a garden to dream in, to adore and to +cherish. + +When Walters came back to tell me that his wife was uncertain as to the +exact date when the captain would return, I began to rave about that +courtyard. At once he was my friend. I had been looking for quiet +lodgings away from the hotel, and I was delighted to find that on the +second floor, directly under the captain's rooms, there was a suite to +be sublet. + +Walters gave me the address of the agents; and, after submitting to an +examination that could not have been more severe if I had asked for the +hand of the senior partner's daughter, they let me come here to live. +The garden was mine! + +And the captain? Three days after I arrived I heard above me, for the +first time, the tread of his military boots. Now again my courage began +to fail. I should have preferred to leave Archie's letter lying in +my desk and know my neighbor only by his tread above me. I felt that +perhaps I had been presumptuous in coming to live in the same house with +him. But I had represented myself to Walters as an acquaintance of the +captain's and the caretaker had lost no time in telling me that "my +friend" was safely home. + +So one night, a week ago, I got up my nerve and went to the captain's +rooms. I knocked. He called to me to enter and I stood in his study, +facing him. He was a tall handsome man, fair-haired, mustached--the +very figure that you, my lady, in your boarding-school days, would have +wished him to be. His manner, I am bound to admit, was not cordial. + +"Captain," I began, "I am very sorry to intrude--" It wasn't the thing +to say, of course, but I was fussed. "However, I happen to be a neighbor +of yours, and I have here a letter of introduction from your cousin, +Archibald Enwright. I met him in Interlaken and we became very good +friends." + +"Indeed!" said the captain. + +He held out his hand for the letter, as though it were evidence at +a court-martial. I passed it over, wishing I hadn't come. He read it +through. It was a long letter, considering its nature. While I waited, +standing by his desk--he hadn't asked me to sit down--I looked about +the room. It was much like my own study, only I think a little dustier. +Being on the third floor it was farther from the garden, consequently +Walters reached there seldom. + +The captain turned back and began to read the letter again. This was +decidedly embarrassing. Glancing down, I happened to see on his desk +an odd knife, which I fancy he had brought from India. The blade was +of steel, dangerously sharp, the hilt of gold, carved to represent some +heathen figure. + +Then the captain looked up from Archie's letter and his cold gaze fell +full upon me. + +"My dear fellow," he said, "to the best of my knowledge, I have no +cousin named Archibald Enwright." + +A pleasant situation, you must admit! It's bad enough when you come +to them with a letter from their mother, but here was I in this +Englishman's rooms, boldly flaunting in his face a warm note of +commendation from a cousin who did not exist! + +"I owe you an apology," I said. I tried to be as haughty as he, and fell +short by about two miles. "I brought the letter in good faith." + +"No doubt of that," he answered. + +"Evidently it was given me by some adventurer for purposes of his own," +I went on; "though I am at a loss to guess what they could have been." + +"I'm frightfully sorry--really," said he. But he said it with the London +inflection, which plainly implies: "I'm nothing of the sort." + +A painful pause. I felt that he ought to give me back the letter; but he +made no move to do so. And, of course, I didn't ask for it. + +"Ah--er--good night," said I and hurried toward the door. + +"Good night," he answered, and I left him standing there with Archie's +accursed letter in his hand. + +That is the story of how I came to this house in Adelphi Terrace. There +is mystery in it, you must admit, my lady. Once or twice since that +uncomfortable call I have passed the captain on the stairs; but the +halls are very dark, and for that I am grateful. I hear him often above +me; in fact, I hear him as I write this. + +Who was Archie? What was the idea? I wonder. + +Ah, well, I have my garden, and for that I am indebted to Archie the +garrulous. It is nearly midnight now. The roar of London has died away +to a fretful murmur, and somehow across this baking town a breeze has +found its way. It whispers over the green grass, in the ivy that climbs +my wall, in the soft murky folds of my curtains. Whispers--what? + +Whispers, perhaps, the dreams that go with this, the first of my letters +to you. They are dreams that even I dare not whisper yet. + +And so--good night. + +THE STRAWBERRY MAN. + + + +CHAPTER III + +With a smile that betrayed unusual interest, the daughter of the Texas +statesman read that letter on Thursday morning in her room at the +Carlton. There was no question about it--the first epistle from the +strawberry-mad one had caught and held her attention. All day, as she +dragged her father through picture galleries, she found herself looking +forward to another morning, wondering, eager. + +But on the following morning Sadie Haight, the maid through whom this +odd correspondence was passing, had no letter to deliver. The news +rather disappointed the daughter of Texas. At noon she insisted on +returning to the hotel for luncheon, though, as her father pointed out, +they were far from the Carlton at the time. Her journey was rewarded. +Letter number two was waiting; and as she read she gasped. + +DEAR LADY AT THE CARLTON: I am writing this at three in the morning, +with London silent as the grave, beyond our garden. That I am so late in +getting to it is not because I did not think of you all day yesterday; +not because I did not sit down at my desk at seven last evening to +address you. Believe me, only the most startling, the most appalling +accident could have held me up. + +That most startling, most appalling accident has happened. + +I am tempted to give you the news at once in one striking and terrible +sentence. And I could write that sentence. A tragedy, wrapped in mystery +as impenetrable as a London fog, has befallen our quiet little house in +Adelphi Terrace. In their basement room the Walters family, sleepless, +overwhelmed, sit silent; on the dark stairs outside my door I hear at +intervals the tramp of men on unhappy missions--But no; I must go back +to the very start of it all: + +Last night I had an early dinner at Simpson's, in the Strand--so early +that I was practically alone in the restaurant. The letter I was about +to write to you was uppermost in my mind and, having quickly dined, I +hurried back to my rooms. I remember clearly that, as I stood in the +street before our house fumbling for my keys, Big Ben on the Parliament +Buildings struck the hour of seven. The chime of the great bell rang out +in our peaceful thoroughfare like a loud and friendly greeting. + +Gaining my study, I sat down at once to write. Over my head I could +hear Captain Fraser-Freer moving about--attiring himself, probably, for +dinner. I was thinking, with an amused smile, how horrified he would be +if he knew that the crude American below him had dined at the impossible +hour of six, when suddenly I heard, in that room above me, some stranger +talking in a harsh determined tone. Then came the captain's answering +voice, calmer, more dignified. This conversation went along for some +time, growing each moment more excited. Though I could not distinguish a +word of it, I had the uncomfortable feeling that there was a controversy +on; and I remember feeling annoyed that any one should thus interfere +with my composition of your letter, which I regarded as most important, +you may be sure. + +At the end of five minutes of argument there came the heavy thump-thump +of men struggling above me. It recalled my college days, when we used +to hear the fellows in the room above us throwing each other about in +an excess of youth and high spirits. But this seemed more grim, more +determined, and I did not like it.--However, I reflected that it was +none of my business. I tried to think about my letter. + +The struggle ended with a particularly heavy thud that shook our ancient +house to its foundations. I sat listening, somehow very much depressed. +There was no sound. It was not entirely dark outside--the long +twilight--and the frugal Walters had not lighted the hall lamps. +Somebody was coming down the stairs very quietly--but their creaking +betrayed him. I waited for him to pass through the shaft of light that +poured from the door open at my back. At that moment Fate intervened in +the shape of a breeze through my windows, the door banged shut, and a +heavy man rushed by me in the darkness and ran down the stairs. I knew +he was heavy, because the passageway was narrow and he had to push me +aside to get by. I heard him swear beneath his breath. + +Quickly I went to a hall window at the far end that looked out on the +street. But the front door did not open; no one came out. I was puzzled +for a second; then I reentered my room and hurried to my balcony. I +could make out the dim figure of a man running through the garden at +the rear--that garden of which I have so often spoken. He did not try +to open the gate; he climbed it, and so disappeared from sight into the +alley. + +For a moment I considered. These were odd actions, surely; but was it my +place to interfere? I remembered the cold stare in the eyes of Captain +Fraser-Freer when I presented that letter. I saw him standing motionless +in his murky study, as amiable as a statue. Would he welcome an +intrusion from me now? + +Finally I made up my mind to forget these things and went down to find +Walters. He and his wife were eating their dinner in the basement. I +told him what had happened. He said he had let no visitor in to see the +captain, and was inclined to view my misgivings with a cold British eye. +However, I persuaded him to go with me to the captain's rooms. + +The captain's door was open. Remembering that in England the way of the +intruder is hard, I ordered Walters to go first. He stepped into the +room, where the gas flickered feebly in an aged chandelier. + +"My God, sir!" said Walters, a servant even now. + +And at last I write that sentence: Captain Fraser-Freer of the Indian +Army lay dead on the floor, a smile that was almost a sneer on his +handsome English face! + +The horror of it is strong with me now as I sit in the silent morning in +this room of mine which is so like the one in which the captain died. He +had been stabbed just over the heart, and my first thought was of that +odd Indian knife which I had seen lying on his study table. I turned +quickly to seek it, but it was gone. And as I looked at the table +it came to me that here in this dusty room there must be finger +prints--many finger prints. + +The room was quite in order, despite those sounds of struggle. One or +two odd matters met my eye. On the table stood a box from a florist in +Bond Street. The lid had been removed and I saw that the box contained +a number of white asters. Beside the box lay a scarf-pin--an emerald +scarab. And not far from the captain's body lay what is known--owing to +the German city where it is made--as a Homburg hat. + +I recalled that it is most important at such times that nothing be +disturbed, and I turned to old Walters. His face was like this paper on +which I write; his knees trembled beneath him. + +"Walters," said I, "we must leave things just as they are until the +police arrive. Come with me while I notify Scotland Yard." + +"Very good, sir," said Walters. + +We went down then to the telephone in the lower hall, and I called up +the Yard. I was told that an inspector would come at once and I went +back to my room to wait for him. + +You can well imagine the feelings that were mine as I waited. Before +this mystery should be solved, I foresaw that I might be involved to a +degree that was unpleasant if not dangerous. Walters would remember that +I first came here as one acquainted with the captain. He had noted, I +felt sure, the lack of intimacy between the captain and myself, once +the former arrived from India. He would no doubt testify that I had been +most anxious to obtain lodgings in the same house with Fraser-Freer. +Then there was the matter of my letter from Archie. I must keep that +secret, I felt sure. Lastly, there was not a living soul to back me up +in my story of the quarrel that preceded the captain's death, of the man +who escaped by way of the garden. + +Alas, thought I, even the most stupid policeman can not fail to look +upon me with the eye of suspicion! + +In about twenty minutes three men arrived from Scotland Yard. By that +time I had worked myself up into a state of absurd nervousness. I heard +Walters let them in; heard them climb the stairs and walk about in the +room overhead. In a short time Walters knocked at my door and told me +that Chief Inspector Bray desired to speak to me. As I preceded the +servant up the stairs I felt toward him as an accused murderer must feel +toward the witness who has it in his power to swear his life away. + +He was a big active man--Bray; blond as are so many Englishmen. His +every move spoke efficiency. Trying to act as unconcerned as an innocent +man should--but failing miserably, I fear--I related to him my story +of the voices, the struggle, and the heavy man who had got by me in the +hall and later climbed our gate. He listened without comment. At the end +he said: + +"You were acquainted with the captain?" + +"Slightly," I told him. Archie's letter kept popping into my mind, +frightening me. "I had just met him--that is all; through a friend of +his--Archibald Enwright was the name." + +"Is Enwright in London to vouch for you?" + +"I'm afraid not. I last heard of him in Interlaken." + +"Yes? How did you happen to take rooms in this house?" + +"The first time I called to see the captain he had not yet arrived from +India. I was looking for lodgings and I took a great fancy to the garden +here." + +It sounded silly, put like that. I wasn't surprised that the inspector +eyed me with scorn. But I rather wished he hadn't. + +Bray began to walk about the room, ignoring me. + +"White asters; scarab pin; Homburg hat," he detailed, pausing before the +table where those strange exhibits lay. + +A constable came forward carrying newspapers in his hand. + +"What is it?" Bray asked. + +"The Daily Mail, sir," said the constable. "The issues of July +twenty-seventh, twenty-eighth, twenty-ninth and thirtieth." + +Bray took the papers in his hand, glanced at them and tossed them +contemptuously into a waste-basket. He turned to Walters. + +"Sorry, sir," said Walters; "but I was so taken aback! Nothing like this +has ever happened to me before. I'll go at once--" + +"No," replied Bray sharply. "Never mind. I'll attend to it--" + +There was a knock at the door. Bray called "Come!" and a slender boy, +frail but with a military bearing, entered. + +"Hello, Walters!" he said, smiling. "What's up? I-" + +He stopped suddenly as his eyes fell upon the divan where Fraser-Freer +lay. In an instant he was at the dead man's side. + +"Stephen!" he cried in anguish. + +"Who are you?" demanded the inspector--rather rudely, I thought. + +"It's the captain's brother, sir," put in Walters. "Lieutenant Norman +Fraser-Freer, of the Royal Fusiliers." + +There fell a silence. + +"A great calamity, sir--" began Walters to the boy. + +I have rarely seen any one so overcome as young Fraser-Freer. Watching +him, it seemed to me that the affection existing between him and the man +on the divan must have been a beautiful thing. He turned away from his +brother at last, and Walters sought to give him some idea of what had +happened. + +"You will pardon me, gentlemen," said the lieutenant. "This has been a +terrible shock! I didn't dream, of course--I just dropped in for a word +with--with him. And now--" + +We said nothing. We let him apologize, as a true Englishman must, for +his public display of emotion. + +"I'm sorry," Bray remarked in a moment, his eyes still shifting about +the room--"especially as England may soon have great need of men like +the captain. Now, gentlemen, I want to say this: I am the Chief of the +Special Branch at the Yard. This is no ordinary murder. For reasons +I can not disclose--and, I may add, for the best interests of the +empire--news of the captain's tragic death must be kept for the present +out of the newspapers. I mean, of course, the manner of his going. A +mere death notice, you understand--the inference being that it was a +natural taking off." + +"I understand," said the lieutenant, as one who knows more than he +tells. + +"Thank you," said Bray. "I shall leave you to attend to the matter, as +far as your family is concerned. You will take charge of the body. As +for the rest of you, I forbid you to mention this matter outside." + +And now Bray stood looking, with a puzzled air, at me. + +"You are an American?" he said, and I judged he did not care for +Americans. + +"I am," I told him. + +"Know any one at your consulate?" he demanded. + +Thank heaven, I did! There is an under-secretary there named Watson--I +went to college with him. I mentioned him to Bray. + +"Very good," said the inspector. "You are free to go. But you must +understand that you are an important witness in this case, and if you +attempt to leave London you will be locked up." + +So I came back to my rooms, horribly entangled in a mystery that is +little to my liking. I have been sitting here in my study for some time, +going over it again and again. There have been many footsteps on the +stairs, many voices in the hall. + +Waiting here for the dawn, I have come to be very sorry for the cold +handsome captain. After all, he was a man; his very tread on the floor +above, which it shall never hear again, told me that. + +What does it all mean? Who was the man in the hall, the man who had +argued so loudly, who had struck so surely with that queer Indian knife? +Where is the knife now? + +And, above all, what do the white asters signify? And the scarab +scarf-pin? And that absurd Homburg hat? + +Lady of the Carlton, you wanted mystery. When I wrote that first letter +to you, little did I dream that I should soon have it to give you in +overwhelming measure. + +And--believe me when I say it--through all this your face has been +constantly before me--your face as I saw it that bright morning in the +hotel breakfast room. You have forgiven me, I know, for the manner +in which I addressed you. I had seen your eyes and the temptation was +great--very great. + +It is dawn in the garden now and London is beginning to stir. So this +time it is--good morning, my lady. + +THE STRAWBERRY MAN. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +It is hardly necessary to intimate that this letter came as something of +a shock to the young woman who received it. For the rest of that day the +many sights of London held little interest for her--so little, indeed, +that her perspiring father began to see visions of his beloved Texas; +and once hopefully suggested an early return home. The coolness with +which this idea was received plainly showed him that he was on the wrong +track; so he sighed and sought solace at the bar. + +That night the two from Texas attended His Majesty's Theater, where +Bernard Shaw's latest play was being performed; and the witty Irishman +would have been annoyed to see the scant attention one lovely young +American in the audience gave his lines. The American in question +retired at midnight, with eager thoughts turned toward the morning. + +And she was not disappointed. When her maid, a stolid Englishwoman, +appeared at her bedside early Saturday she carried a letter, which +she handed over, with the turned-up nose of one who aids but does not +approve. Quickly the girl tore it open. + +DEAR Texas LADY: I am writing this late in the afternoon. The sun is +casting long black shadows on the garden lawn, and the whole world is +so bright and matter-of-fact I have to argue with myself to be convinced +that the events of that tragic night through which I passed really +happened. + +The newspapers this morning helped to make it all seem a dream; not a +line--not a word, that I can find. When I think of America, and how +by this time the reporters would be swarming through our house if this +thing had happened over there, I am the more astonished. But then, I +know these English papers. The great Joe Chamberlain died the other +night at ten, and it was noon the next day when the first paper to carry +the story appeared--screaming loudly that it had scored a beat. It had. +Other lands, other methods. + +It was probably not difficult for Bray to keep journalists such as these +in the dark. So their great ungainly sheets come out in total ignorance +of a remarkable story in Adelphi Terrace. Famished for real news, they +begin to hint at a huge war cloud on the horizon. Because tottering +Austria has declared war on tiny Serbia, because the Kaiser is to-day +hurrying, with his best dramatic effect, home to Berlin, they see all +Europe shortly bathed in blood. A nightmare born of torrid days and +tossing nights! + +But it is of the affair in Adelphi Terrace that you no doubt want to +hear. One sequel of the tragedy, which adds immeasurably to the mystery +of it all, has occurred, and I alone am responsible for its discovery. +But to go back: + +I returned from mailing your letter at dawn this morning, very tired +from the tension of the night. I went to bed, but could not sleep. +More and more it was preying on my mind that I was in a most unhappy +position. I had not liked the looks cast at me by Inspector Bray, or his +voice when he asked how I came to live in this house. I told myself +I should not be safe until the real murderer of the poor captain +was found; and so I began to puzzle over the few clues in the +case--especially over the asters, the scarab pin and the Homburg hat. + +It was then I remembered the four copies of the Daily Mail that Bray had +casually thrown into the waste-basket as of no interest. I had glanced +over his shoulder as he examined these papers, and had seen that each of +them was folded so that our favorite department--the Agony Column--was +uppermost. It happened I had in my desk copies of the Mail for the past +week. You will understand why. + +I rose, found those papers, and began to read. It was then that I made +the astounding discovery to which I have alluded. + +For a time after making it I was dumb with amazement, so that no course +of action came readily to mind. In the end I decided that the thing for +me to do was to wait for Bray's return in the morning and then point out +to him the error he had made in ignoring the Mail. + +Bray came in about eight o'clock and a few minutes later I heard +another man ascend the stairs. I was shaving at the time, but I quickly +completed the operation and, slipping on a bathrobe, hurried up to the +captain's rooms. The younger brother had seen to the removal of the +unfortunate man's body in the night, and, aside from Bray and the +stranger who had arrived almost simultaneously with him, there was no +one but a sleepy-eyed constable there. + +Bray's greeting was decidedly grouchy. The stranger, however--a tall +bronzed man--made himself known to me in the most cordial manner. He +told me he was Colonel Hughes, a close friend of the dead man; and that, +unutterably shocked and grieved, he had come to inquire whether there +was anything he might do. "Inspector," said I, "last night in this room +you held in your hand four copies of the Daily Mail. You tossed them +into that basket as of no account. May I suggest that you rescue those +copies, as I have a rather startling matter to make clear to you?" +Too grand an official to stoop to a waste-basket, he nodded to the +constable. The latter brought the papers; and, selecting one from the +lot, I spread it out on the table. "The issue of July twenty-seventh," I +said. + +I pointed to an item half-way down the column of Personal Notices. You +yourself, my lady, may read it there if you happen to have saved a copy. +It ran as follows: + +"RANGOON: The asters are in full bloom in the garden at Canterbury. They +are very beautiful--especially the white ones." + +Bray grunted, and opened his little eyes. I took up the issue of the +following day--the twenty-eighth: + +"RANGOON: We have been forced to sell father's stick-pin--the emerald +scarab he brought home from Cairo." + +I had Bray's interest now. He leaned heavily toward me, puffing. Greatly +excited, I held before his eyes the issue of the twenty-ninth: + +"RANGOON: Homburg hat gone forever--caught by a breeze--into the river." + +"And finally," said I to the inspector, "the last message of all, in the +issue of the thirtieth of July--on sale in the streets some twelve hours +before Fraser-Freer was murdered. See!" + +"RANGOON: To-night at ten. Regent Street. --Y.O.G." + +Bray was silent. + +"I take it you are aware, Inspector," I said, "that for the past two +years Captain Fraser-Freer was stationed at Rangoon." + +Still he said nothing; just looked at me with those foxy little eyes +that I was coming to detest. At last he spoke sharply: + +"Just how," he demanded, "did you happen to discover those messages? You +were not in this room last night after I left?" He turned angrily to the +constable. "I gave orders--" + +"No," I put in; "I was not in this room. I happened to have on file in +my rooms copies of the Mail, and by the merest chance--" + +I saw that I had blundered. Undoubtedly my discovery of those messages +was too pat. Once again suspicion looked my way. + +"Thank you very much," said Bray. "I'll keep this in mind." + +"Have you communicated with my friend at the consulate?" I asked. + +"Yes. That's all. Good morning." + +So I went. + +I had been back in my room some twenty minutes when there came a knock +on the door, and Colonel Hughes entered. He was a genial man, in the +early forties I should say, tanned by some sun not English, and gray at +the temples. + +"My dear sir," he said without preamble, "this is a most appalling +business!" + +"Decidedly," I answered. "Will you sit down?" + +"Thank you." He sat and gazed frankly into my eyes. "Policemen," he +added meaningly, "are a most suspicious tribe--often without reason. I +am sorry you happen to be involved in this affair, for I may say that +I fancy you to be exactly what you seem. May I add that, if you should +ever need a friend, I am at your service?" + +I was touched; I thanked him as best I could. His tone was so +sympathetic and before I realized it I was telling him the whole +story--of Archie and his letter; of my falling in love with a garden; of +the startling discovery that the captain had never heard of his cousin; +and of my subsequent unpleasant position. He leaned back in his chair +and closed his eyes. + +"I suppose," he said, "that no man ever carries an unsealed letter of +introduction without opening it to read just what praises have been +lavished upon him. It is human nature--I have done it often. May I make +so bold as to inquire--" + +"Yes," said I. "It was unsealed and I did read it. Considering its +purpose, it struck me as rather long. There were many warm words for +me--words beyond all reason in view of my brief acquaintance with +Enwright. I also recall that he mentioned how long he had been in +Interlaken, and that he said he expected to reach London about the first +of August." + +"The first of August," repeated the colonel. "That is to-morrow. Now--if +you'll be so kind--just what happened last night?" + +Again I ran over the events of that tragic evening--the quarrel; the +heavy figure in the hall; the escape by way of the seldom-used gate. + +"My boy," said Colonel Hughes as he rose to go, "the threads of this +tragedy stretch far--some of them to India; some to a country I will not +name. I may say frankly that I have other and greater interest in the +matter than that of the captain's friend. For the present that is in +strict confidence between us; the police are well-meaning, but they +sometimes blunder. Did I understand you to say that you have copies of +the Mail containing those odd messages?" + +"Right here in my desk," said I. I got them for him. + +"I think I shall take them--if I may," he said. "You will, of course, +not mention this little visit of mine. We shall meet again. Good +morning." + +And he went away, carrying those papers with their strange signals to +Rangoon. + +Somehow I feel wonderfully cheered by his call. For the first time since +seven last evening I begin to breathe freely again. + +And so, lady who likes mystery, the matter stands on the afternoon of +the last day of July, nineteen hundred and fourteen. + +I shall mail you this letter to-night. It is my third to you, and it +carries with it three times the dreams that went with the first; for +they are dreams that live not only at night, when the moon is on the +courtyard, but also in the bright light of day. + +Yes--I am remarkably cheered. I realize that I have not eaten at +all--save a cup of coffee from the trembling hand of Walters--since +last night, at Simpson's. I am going now to dine. I shall begin with +grapefruit. I realize that I am suddenly very fond of grapefruit. + +How bromidic to note it--we have many tastes in common! + +EX-STRAWBERRY MAN. + + +The third letter from her correspondent of the Agony Column increased +in the mind of the lovely young woman at the Carlton the excitement and +tension the second had created. For a long time, on the Saturday morning +of its receipt, she sat in her room puzzling over the mystery of +the house in Adelphi Terrace. When first she had heard that Captain +Fraser-Freer, of the Indian Army, was dead of a knife wound over the +heart, the news had shocked her like that of the loss of some old +and dear friend. She had desired passionately the apprehension of his +murderer, and had turned over and over in her mind the possibilities of +white asters, a scarab pin and a Homburg hat. + +Perhaps the girl longed for the arrest of the guilty man thus keenly +because this jaunty young friend of hers--a friend whose name she did +not know--to whom, indeed, she had never spoken--was so dangerously +entangled in the affair. For, from what she knew of Geoffrey West, from +her casual glance in the restaurant and, far more, from his letters, she +liked him extremely. + +And now came his third letter, in which he related the connection of +that hat, that pin and those asters with the column in the Mail which +had first brought them together. As it happened, she, too, had copies +of the paper for the first four days of the week. She went to her +sitting-room, unearthed these copies, and--gasped! For from the +column in Monday's paper stared up at her the cryptic words to Rangoon +concerning asters in a garden at Canterbury. In the other three issues +as well, she found the identical messages her strawberry man had quoted. +She sat for a moment in deep thought; sat, in fact, until at her door +came the enraged knocking of a hungry parent who had been waiting a full +hour in the lobby below for her to join him at breakfast. + +"Come, come!" boomed her father, entering at her invitation. "Don't sit +here all day mooning. I'm hungry if you're not." + +With quick apologies she made ready to accompany him down-stairs. +Firmly, as she planned their campaign for the day, she resolved to put +from her mind all thought of Adelphi Terrace. How well she succeeded +may be judged from a speech made by her father that night just before +dinner: + +"Have you lost your tongue, Marian? You're as uncommunicative as a +newly-elected office-holder. If you can't get a little more life into +these expeditions of ours we'll pack up and head for home." + +She smiled, patted his shoulder and promised to improve. But he appeared +to be in a gloomy mood. + +"I believe we ought to go, anyhow," he went on. "In my opinion this war +is going to spread like a prairie fire. The Kaiser got back to Berlin +yesterday. He'll sign the mobilization orders to-day as sure as fate. +For the past week, on the Berlin Bourse, Canadian Pacific stock has been +dropping. That means they expect England to come in." + +He gazed darkly into the future. It may seem that, for an American +statesman, he had an unusual grasp of European politics. This is easily +explained by the fact that he had been talking with the bootblack at the +Carlton Hotel. + +"Yes," he said with sudden decision, "I'll go down to the steamship +offices early Monday morning." + + + +CHAPTER V + +His daughter heard these words with a sinking heart. She had a most +unhappy picture of herself boarding a ship and sailing out of Liverpool +or Southampton, leaving the mystery that so engrossed her thoughts +forever unsolved. Wisely she diverted her father's thoughts toward +the question of food. She had heard, she said, that Simpson's, in the +Strand, was an excellent place to dine. They would go there, and walk. +She suggested a short detour that would carry them through Adelphi +Terrace. It seemed she had always wanted to see Adelphi Terrace. + +As they passed through that silent Street she sought to guess, from an +inspection of the grim forbidding house fronts, back of which lay the +lovely garden, the romantic mystery. But the houses were so very much +like one another. Before one of them, she noted, a taxi waited. + +After dinner her father pleaded for a music-hall as against what he +called "some highfaluting, teacup English play." He won. Late that +night, as they rode back to the Carlton, special editions were being +proclaimed in the streets. Germany was mobilizing! + +The girl from Texas retired, wondering what epistolary surprise the +morning would bring forth. It brought forth this: + +DEAR DAUGHTER OF THE SENATE: Or is it Congress? I could not quite +decide. But surely in one or the other of those august bodies your +father sits when he is not at home in Texas or viewing Europe through +his daughter's eyes. One look at him and I had gathered that. + +But Washington is far from London, isn't it? And it is London that +interests us most--though father's constituents must not know that. It +is really a wonderful, an astounding city, once you have got the feel of +the tourist out of your soul. I have been reading the most enthralling +essays on it, written by a newspaper man who first fell desperately +in love with it at seven--an age when the whole glittering town was +symbolized for him by the fried-fish shop at the corner of the High +Street. With him I have been going through its gray and furtive +thoroughfares in the dead of night, and sometimes we have kicked an +ash-barrel and sometimes a romance. Some day I might show that London +to you--guarding you, of course, from the ash-barrels, if you are that +kind. On second thoughts, you aren't. But I know that it is of Adelphi +Terrace and a late captain in the Indian Army that you want to hear now. +Yesterday, after my discovery of those messages in the Mail and the call +of Captain Hughes, passed without incident. Last night I mailed you my +third letter, and after wandering for a time amid the alternate glare +and gloom of the city, I went back to my rooms and smoked on my balcony +while about me the inmates of six million homes sweltered in the heat. +Nothing happened. I felt a bit disappointed, a bit cheated, as one might +feel on the first night spent at home after many successive visits to +exciting plays. To-day, the first of August dawned, and still all was +quiet. Indeed, it was not until this evening that further developments +in the sudden death of Captain Fraser-Freer arrived to disturb me. These +developments are strange ones surely, and I shall hasten to relate them. + +I dined to-night at a little place in Soho. My waiter was Italian, and +on him I amused myself with the Italian in Ten Lessons of which I am +foolishly proud. We talked of Fiesole, where he had lived. Once I rode +from Fiesole down the hill to Florence in the moonlight. I remember +endless walls on which hung roses, fresh and blooming. I remember a +gaunt nunnery and two-gray-robed sisters clanging shut the gates. +I remember the searchlight from the military encampment, playing +constantly over the Arno and the roofs--the eye of Mars that, here in +Europe, never closes. And always the flowers nodding above me, stooping +now and then to brush my face. I came to think that at the end Paradise, +and not a second-rate hotel, was waiting. One may still take that ride, +I fancy. Some day--some day-- + +I dined in Soho. I came back to Adelphi Terrace in the hot, reeking +August dusk, reflecting that the mystery in which I was involved was, +after a fashion, standing still. In front of our house I noticed a taxi +waiting. I thought nothing of it as I entered the murky hallway and +climbed the familiar stairs. + +My door stood open. It was dark in my study, save for the reflection of +the lights of London outside. As I crossed the threshold there came to +my nostrils the faint sweet perfume of lilacs. There are no lilacs in +our garden, and if there were it is not the season. No, this perfume had +been brought there by a woman--a woman who sat at my desk and raised her +head as I entered. + +"You will pardon this intrusion," she said in the correct careful +English of one who has learned the speech from a book. "I have come for +a brief word with you--then I shall go." + +I could think of nothing to say. I stood gaping like a schoolboy. + +"My word," the woman went on, "is in the nature of advice. We do not +always like those who give us advice. None the less, I trust that you +will listen." + +I found my tongue then. + +"I am listening," I said stupidly. "But first--a light--" And I moved +toward the matches on the mantelpiece. + +Quickly the woman rose and faced me. I saw then that she wore a +veil--not a heavy veil, but a fluffy, attractive thing that was yet +sufficient to screen her features from me. + +"I beg of you," she cried, "no light!" And as I paused, undecided, she +added, in a tone which suggested lips that pout: "It is such a little +thing to ask--surely you will not refuse." + +I suppose I should have insisted. But her voice was charming, her manner +perfect, and that odor of lilacs reminiscent of a garden I knew long +ago, at home. + +"Very well," said I. + +"Oh--I am grateful to you," she answered. Her tone changed. "I +understand that, shortly after seven o'clock last Thursday evening, you +heard in the room above you the sounds of a struggle. Such has been your +testimony to the police?" + +"It has," said I. + +"Are you quite certain as to the hour?" I felt that she was smiling at +me. "Might it not have been later--or earlier?" + +"I am sure it was just after seven," I replied. "I'll tell you why: I +had just returned from dinner and while I was unlocking the door Big Ben +on the House of Parliament struck--" + +She raised her hand. + +"No matter," she said, and there was a touch of iron in her voice. +"You are no longer sure of that. Thinking it over, you have come to the +conclusion that it may have been barely six-thirty when you heard the +noise of a struggle." + +"Indeed?" said I. I tried to sound sarcastic, but I was really too +astonished by her tone. + +"Yes--indeed!" she replied. "That is what you will tell Inspector Bray +when next you see him. 'It may have been six-thirty,' you will tell him. +'I have thought it over and I am not certain.'" + +"Even for a very charming lady," I said "I can not misrepresent the +facts in a matter so important. It was after seven--" + +"I am not asking you to do a favor for a lady," she replied. "I am +asking you to do a favor for yourself. If you refuse the consequences +may be most unpleasant." + +"I'm rather at a loss--" I began. + +She was silent for a moment. Then she turned and I felt her looking at +me through the veil. + +"Who was Archibald Enwright?" she demanded. My heart sank. I recognized +the weapon in her hands. "The police," she went on, "do not yet know +that the letter of introduction you brought to the captain was signed by +a man who addressed Fraser-Freer as Dear Cousin, but who is completely +unknown to the family. Once that information reaches Scotland Yard, your +chance of escaping arrest is slim. + +"They may not be able to fasten this crime upon you, but there will be +complications most distasteful. One's liberty is well worth keeping--and +then, too, before the case ends, there will be wide publicity--" + +"'Well?" said I. + +"That is why you are going to suffer a lapse of memory in the matter of +the hour at which you heard that struggle. As you think it over, it +is going to occur to you that it may have been six-thirty, not seven. +Otherwise--" + +"Go on." + +"Otherwise the letter of introduction you gave to the captain will be +sent anonymously to Inspector Bray." + +"You have that letter!" I cried. + +"Not I," she answered. "But it will be sent to Bray. It will be pointed +out to him that you were posing under false colors. You could not +escape!" + +I was most uncomfortable. The net of suspicion seemed closing in about +me. But I was resentful, too, of the confidence in this woman's voice. + +"None the less," said I, "I refuse to change my testimony. The truth is +the truth--" + +The woman had moved to the door. She turned. + +"To-morrow," she replied, "it is not unlikely you will see Inspector +Bray. As I said, I came here to give you advice. You had better take it. +What does it matter--a half-hour this way or that? And the difference is +prison for you. Good night." + +She was gone. I followed into the hall. Below, in the street, I heard +the rattle of her taxi. + +I went back into my room and sat down. I was upset, and no mistake. +Outside my windows the continuous symphony of the city played on--the +busses, the trains, the never-silent voices. I gazed out. What a +tremendous acreage of dank brick houses and dank British souls! I felt +horribly alone. I may add that I felt a bit frightened, as though that +great city were slowly closing in on me. + +Who was this woman of mystery? What place had she held in the life--and +perhaps in the death--of Captain Fraser-Freer? Why should she come +boldly to my rooms to make her impossible demand? + +I resolved that, even at the risk of my own comfort, I would stick to +the truth. And to that resolve I would have clung had I not shortly +received another visit--this one far more inexplicable, far more +surprising, than the first. + +It was about nine o'clock when Walters tapped at my door and told me +two gentlemen wished to see me. A moment later into my study walked +Lieutenant Norman Fraser-Freer and a fine old gentleman with a face that +suggested some faded portrait hanging on an aristocrat's wall. I had +never seen him before. + +"I hope it is quite convenient for you to see us," said young +Fraser-Freer. + +I assured him that it was. The boy's face was drawn and haggard; there +was terrible suffering in his eyes, yet about him hung, like a halo, the +glory of a great resolution. + +"May I present my father?" he said. "General Fraser-Freer, retired. We +have come on a matter of supreme importance--" + +The old man muttered something I could not catch. I could see that +he had been hard hit by the loss of his elder son. I asked them to be +seated; the general complied, but the boy walked the floor in a manner +most distressing. + +"I shall not be long," he remarked. "Nor at a time like this is one in +the mood to be diplomatic. I will only say, sir, that we have come to +ask of you a great--a very great favor indeed. You may not see fit to +grant it. If that is the case we can not well reproach you. But if you +can--" + +"It is a great favor, sir!" broke in the general. "And I am in the odd +position where I do not know whether you will serve me best by granting +it or by refusing to do so." + +"Father--please--if you don't mind--" The boy's voice was kindly but +determined. He turned to me. + +"Sir--you have testified to the police that it was a bit past seven when +you heard in the room above the sounds of the struggle which--which--You +understand." + +In view of the mission of the caller who had departed a scant hour +previously, the boy's question startled me. + +"Such was my testimony," I answered. "It was the truth." + +"Naturally," said Lieutenant Fraser-Freer. "But--er--as a matter of +fact, we are here to ask that you alter your testimony. Could you, as a +favor to us who have suffered so cruel a loss--a favor we should never +forget--could you not make the hour of that struggle half after six?" + +I was quite overwhelmed. + +"Your--reasons?" I managed at last to ask. + +"I am not able to give them to you in full," the boy answered. "I can +only say this: It happens that at seven o'clock last Thursday night I +was dining with friends at the Savoy--friends who would not be likely to +forget the occasion." + +The old general leaped to his feet. + +"Norman," he cried, "I can not let you do this thing! I simply will +not--" + +"Hush, father," said the boy wearily. "We have threshed it all out. You +have promised--" + +The old man sank back into the chair and buried his face in his hands. + +"If you are willing to change your testimony," young Fraser-Freer went +on to me, "I shall at once confess to the police that it was I who--who +murdered my brother. They suspect me. They know that late last Thursday +afternoon I purchased a revolver, for which, they believe, at the last +moment I substituted the knife. They know that I was in debt to him; +that we had quarreled about money matters; that by his death I, and I +alone, could profit." + +He broke off suddenly and came toward me, holding out his arms with a +pleading gesture I can never forget. + +"Do this for me!" he cried. "Let me confess! Let me end this whole +horrible business here and now." + +Surely no man had ever to answer such an appeal before. + +"Why?" I found myself saying, and over and over I repeated it--"Why? +Why?" + +The lieutenant faced me, and I hope never again to see such a look in a +man's eyes. + +"I loved him!" he cried. "That is why. For his honor, for the honor of +our family, I am making this request of you. Believe me, it is not easy. +I can tell you no more than that. You knew my brother?" + +"Slightly." + +"Then, for his sake--do this thing I ask." + +"But--murder--" + +"You heard the sounds of a struggle. I shall say that we quarreled--that +I struck in self-defense." He turned to his father. "It will mean only +a few years in prison--I can bear that!" he cried. "For the honor of our +name!" + +The old man groaned, but did not raise his head. The boy walked back +and forth over my faded carpet like a lion caged. I stood wondering what +answer I should make. + +"I know what you are thinking," said the lieutenant. "You can not credit +your ears. But you have heard correctly. And now--as you might put +it--it is up to you. I have been in your country." He smiled pitifully. +"I think I know you Americans. You are not the sort to refuse a man when +he is sore beset--as I am." + +I looked from him to the general and back again. + +"I must think this over," I answered, my mind going at once to Colonel +Hughes. "Later--say to-morrow--you shall have my decision." + +"To-morrow," said the boy, "we shall both be called before Inspector +Bray. I shall know your answer then--and I hope with all my heart it +will be yes." + +There were a few mumbled words of farewell and he and the broken old man +went out. As soon as the street door closed behind them I hurried to the +telephone and called a number Colonel Hughes had given me. It was with a +feeling of relief that I heard his voice come back over the wire. I told +him I must see him at once. He replied that by a singular chance he had +been on the point of starting for my rooms. + +In the half-hour that elapsed before the coming of the colonel I walked +about like a man in a trance. He was barely inside my door when I began +pouring out to him the story of those two remarkable visits. He made +little comment on the woman's call beyond asking me whether I could +describe her; and he smiled when I mentioned lilac perfume. At mention +of young Fraser-Freer's preposterous request he whistled. + +"By gad!" he said. "Interesting--most interesting! I am not surprised, +however. That boy has the stuff in him." + +"But what shall I do?" I demanded. + +Colonel Hughes smiled. + +"It makes little difference what you do," he said. "Norman Fraser-Freer +did not kill his brother, and that will be proved in due time." He +considered for a moment. "Bray no doubt would be glad to have you alter +your testimony, since he is trying to fasten the crime on the young +lieutenant. On the whole, if I were you, I think that when the +opportunity comes to-morrow I should humor the inspector." + +"You mean--tell him I am no longer certain as to the hour of that +struggle?" + +"Precisely. I give you my word that young Fraser-Freer will not be +permanently incriminated by such an act on your part. And incidentally +you will be aiding me." + +"Very well," said I. "But I don't understand this at all." + +"No--of course not. I wish I could explain to you; but I can not. I +will say this--the death of Captain Fraser-Freer is regarded as a most +significant thing by the War Office. Thus it happens that two distinct +hunts for his assassin are under way--one conducted by Bray, the other +by me. Bray does not suspect that I am working on the case and I want to +keep him in the dark as long as possible. You may choose which of these +investigations you wish to be identified with." + +"I think," said I, "that I prefer you to Bray." + +"Good boy!" he answered. "You have not gone wrong. And you can do me a +service this evening, which is why I was on the point of coming here, +even before you telephoned me. I take it that you remember and could +identify the chap who called himself Archibald Enwright--the man who +gave you that letter to the captain?" + +"I surely could," said I. + +"Then, if you can spare me an hour, get your hat." + +And so it happens, lady of the Carlton, that I have just been to +Limehouse. You do not know where Limehouse is and I trust you never +will. It is picturesque; it is revolting; it is colorful and wicked. The +weird odors of it still fill my nostrils; the sinister portrait of it is +still before my eyes. It is the Chinatown of London--Limehouse. Down +in the dregs of the town--with West India Dock Road for its spinal +column--it lies, redolent of ways that are dark and tricks that are +vain. Not only the heathen Chinee so peculiar shuffles through its +dim-lit alleys, but the scum of the earth, of many colors and of many +climes. The Arab and the Hindu, the Malayan and the Jap, black men from +the Congo and fair men from Scandinavia--these you may meet there--the +outpourings of all the ships that sail the Seven Seas. There many +drunken beasts, with their pay in their pockets, seek each his favorite +sin; and for those who love most the opium, there is, at all too regular +intervals, the Sign of the Open Lamp. + +We went there, Colonel Hughes and I. Up and down the narrow Causeway, +yellow at intervals with the light from gloomy shops, dark mostly +because of tightly closed shutters through which only thin jets found +their way, we walked until we came and stood at last in shadow outside +the black doorway of Harry San Li's so-called restaurant. We waited ten, +fifteen minutes; then a man came down the Causeway and paused before +that door. There was something familiar in his jaunty walk. Then the +faint glow of the lamp that was the indication of Harry San's real +business lit his pale face, and I knew that I had seen him last in +the cool evening at Interlaken, where Limehouse could not have lived a +moment, with the Jungfrau frowning down upon it. + +"Enwright?" whispered Hughes. + +"Not a doubt of it!" said I. + +"Good!" he replied with fervor. + +And now another man shuffled down the street and stood suddenly straight +and waiting before the colonel. + +"Stay with him," said Hughes softly. "Don't let him get out of your +sight." + +"Very good, sir," said the man; and, saluting, he passed on up the +stairs and whistled softly at that black depressing door. + +The clock above the Millwall Docks was striking eleven as the colonel +and I caught a bus that should carry us back to a brighter, happier +London. Hughes spoke but seldom on that ride; and, repeating his advice +that I humor Inspector Bray on the morrow, he left me in the Strand. + +So, my lady, here I sit in my study, waiting for that most important day +that is shortly to dawn. A full evening, you must admit. A woman with +the perfume of lilacs about her has threatened that unless I lie I shall +encounter consequences most unpleasant. A handsome young lieutenant has +begged me to tell that same lie for the honor of his family, and thus +condemn him to certain arrest and imprisonment. And I have been +down into hell, to-night and seen Archibald Enwright, of Interlaken, +conniving with the devil. + +I presume I should go to bed; but I know I can not sleep. To-morrow +is to be, beyond all question, a red-letter day in the matter of the +captain's murder. And once again, against my will, I am down to play a +leading part. + +The symphony of this great, gray, sad city is a mere hum in the distance +now, for it is nearly midnight. I shall mail this letter to you--post +it, I should say, since I am in London--and then I shall wait in my dim +rooms for the dawn. And as I wait I shall be thinking not always of +the captain, or his brother, or Hughes, or Limehouse and Enwright, but +often--oh, very often--of you. + +In my last letter I scoffed at the idea of a great war. But when we +came back from Limehouse to-night the papers told us that the Kaiser had +signed the order to mobilize. Austria in; Serbia in; Germany, Russia +and France in. Hughes tells me that England is shortly to follow, and +I suppose there is no doubt of it. It is a frightful thing--this future +that looms before us; and I pray that for you at least it may hold only +happiness. + +For, my lady, when I write good night, I speak it aloud as I write; and +there is in my voice more than I dare tell you of now. + +THE AGONY COLUMN MAN. + + +Not unwelcome to the violet eyes of the girl from Texas were the last +words of this letter, read in her room that Sunday morning. But the +lines predicting England's early entrance into the war recalled to her +mind a most undesirable contingency. On the previous night, when the war +extras came out confirming the forecast of his favorite bootblack, her +usually calm father had shown signs of panic. He was not a man slow +to act. And she knew that, putty though he was in her hands in matters +which he did not regard as important, he could also be firm where he +thought firmness necessary. America looked even better to him than +usual, and he had made up his mind to go there immediately. There was no +use in arguing with him. + +At this point came a knock at her door and her father entered. One look +at his face--red, perspiring and decidedly unhappy--served to cheer his +daughter. + +"Been down to the steamship offices," he panted, mopping his bald head. +"They're open to-day, just like it was a week day--but they might as +well be closed. There's nothing doing. Every boat's booked up to the +rails; we can't get out of here for two weeks--maybe more." + +"I'm sorry," said his daughter. + +"No, you ain't! You're delighted! You think it's romantic to get caught +like this. Wish I had the enthusiasm of youth." He fanned himself with a +newspaper. "Lucky I went over to the express office yesterday and loaded +up on gold. I reckon when the blow falls it'll be tolerable hard to cash +checks in this man's town." + +"That was a good idea." + +"Ready for breakfast?" he inquired. + +"Quite ready," she smiled. + +They went below, she humming a song from a revue, while he glared at +her. She was very glad they were to be in London a little longer. She +felt she could not go, with that mystery still unsolved. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +The last peace Sunday London was to know in many weary months went by, +a tense and anxious day. Early on Monday the fifth letter from the young +man of the Agony Column arrived, and when the girl from Texas read it +she knew that under no circumstances could she leave London now. + +It ran: + +DEAR LADY FROM HOME: I call you that because the word home has for me, +this hot afternoon in London, about the sweetest sound word ever had. I +can see, when I close my eyes, Broadway at midday; Fifth Avenue, gay and +colorful, even with all the best people away; Washington Square, cool +under the trees, lovely and desirable despite the presence everywhere of +alien neighbors from the district to the South. I long for home with an +ardent longing; never was London so cruel, so hopeless, so drab, in my +eyes. For, as I write this, a constable sits at my elbow, and he and +I are shortly to start for Scotland Yard. I have been arrested as a +suspect in the case of Captain Fraser-Freer's murder! + +I predicted last night that this was to be a red-letter day in the +history of that case, and I also saw myself an unwilling actor in the +drama. But little did I suspect the series of astonishing events that +was to come with the morning; little did I dream that the net I have +been dreading would to-day engulf me. I can scarcely blame Inspector +Bray for holding me; what I can not understand is why Colonel Hughes-- + +But you want, of course, the whole story from the beginning; and I shall +give it to you. At eleven o'clock this morning a constable called on +me at my rooms and informed me that I was wanted at once by the Chief +Inspector at the Yard. + +We climbed--the constable and I--a narrow stone stairway somewhere at +the back of New Scotland Yard, and so came to the inspector's room. +Bray was waiting for us, smiling and confident. I remember--silly as the +detail is--that he wore in his buttonhole a white rose. His manner of +greeting me was more genial than usual. He began by informing me that +the police had apprehended the man who, they believed, was guilty of the +captain's murder. + +"There is one detail to be cleared up," he said. "You told me the other +night that it was shortly after seven o'clock when you heard the sounds +of struggle in the room above you. You were somewhat excited at the +time, and under similar circumstances men have been known to make +mistakes. Have you considered the matter since? Is it not possible that +you were in error in regard to the hour?" + +I recalled Hughes' advice to humor the inspector; and I said that, +having thought it over, I was not quite sure. It might have been earlier +than seven--say six-thirty. + +"Exactly," said Bray. He seemed rather pleased. "The natural stress +of the moment--I understand. Wilkinson, bring in your prisoner. The +constable addressed turned and left the room, coming back a moment later +with Lieutenant Norman Fraser-Freer. The boy was pale; I could see at a +glance that he had not slept for several nights. + +"Lieutenant," said Bray very sharply, "will you tell me--is it true that +your brother, the late captain, had loaned you a large sum of money a +year or so ago?" + +"Quite true," answered the lieutenant in a low voice. + +"You and he had quarreled about the amount of money you spent?" + +"Yes." + +"By his death you became the sole heir of your father, the general. Your +position with the money-lenders was quite altered. Am I right?" + +"I fancy so." + +"Last Thursday afternoon you went to the Army and Navy Stores and +purchased a revolver. You already had your service weapon, but to shoot +a man with a bullet from that would be to make the hunt of the police +for the murderer absurdly simple." + +The boy made no answer. + +"Let us suppose," Bray went on, "that last Thursday evening at half +after six you called on your brother in his rooms at Adelphi Terrace. +There was an argument about money. You became enraged. You saw him and +him alone between you and the fortune you needed so badly. Then--I am +only supposing--you noticed on his table an odd knife he had brought +from India--safer--more silent--than a gun. You seized it--" + +"Why suppose?" the boy broke in. "I'm not trying to conceal anything. +You're right--I did it! I killed my brother! Now let us get the whole +business over as soon as may be." + +Into the face of Inspector Bray there came at that moment a look that +has puzzling me ever since--a look that has recurred to my mind again +and again,--in the stress and storm of this eventful day. It was only +too evident that this confession came to him as a shock. I presume so +easy a victory seemed hollow to him; he was wishing the boy had put up a +fight. Policemen are probably like that. + +"My boy," he said, "I am sorry for you. My course is clear. If you will +go with one of my men--" + +It was at this point that the door of the inspector's room opened and +Colonel Hughes, cool and smiling, walked in. Bray chuckled at sight of +the military man. + +"Ah, Colonel," he cried, "you make a good entrance! This morning, when I +discovered that I had the honor of having you associated with me in the +search for the captain's murderer, you were foolish enough to make a +little wager--" + +"I remember," Hughes answered. "A scarab pin against--a Homburg hat." + +"Precisely," said Bray. "You wagered that you, and not I, would discover +the guilty man. Well, Colonel, you owe me a scarab. Lieutenant Norman +Fraser-Freer has just told me that he killed his brother, and I was on +the point of taking down his full confession." + +"Indeed!" replied Hughes calmly. "Interesting--most interesting! But +before we consider the wager lost--before you force the lieutenant to +confess in full--I should like the floor." + +"Certainly," smiled Bray. + +"When you were kind enough to let me have two of your men this morning," +said Hughes, "I told you I contemplated the arrest of a lady. I have +brought that lady to Scotland Yard with me." He stepped to the +door, opened it and beckoned. A tall, blonde handsome woman of about +thirty-five entered; and instantly to my nostrils came the pronounced +odor of lilacs. "Allow me, Inspector," went on the colonel, "to +introduce to you the Countess Sophie de Graf, late of Berlin, late of +Delhi and Rangoon, now of 17 Leitrim Grove, Battersea Park Road." + +The woman faced Bray; and there was a terrified, hunted look in her +eyes. + +"You are the inspector?" she asked. + +"I am," said Bray. + +"And a man--I can see that," she went on, her flashing angrily at +Hughes. "I appeal to you to protect me from the brutal questioning of +this--this fiend." + +"You are hardly complimentary, Countess," Hughes smiled. "But I am +willing to forgive you if you will tell the inspector the story that you +have recently related to me." + +The woman shut her lips tightly and for a long moment gazed into the +eyes of Inspector Bray. + +"He"--she said at last, nodding in the direction of Colonel Hughes--"he +got it out of me--how, I don't know." + +"Got what out of you?" Bray's little eyes were blinking. + +"At six-thirty o'clock last Thursday evening," said the woman, "I went +to the rooms of Captain Fraser-Freer, in Adelphi Terrace. An argument +arose. I seized from his table an Indian dagger that was lying there--I +stabbed him just above the heart!" + +In that room in Scotland Yard a tense silence fell. For the first time +we were all conscious of a tiny clock on the inspector's desk, for it +ticked now with a loudness sudden and startling. I gazed at the faces +about me. Bray's showed a momentary surprise--then the mask fell again. +Lieutenant Fraser-Freer was plainly amazed. On the face of Colonel +Hughes I saw what struck me as an open sneer. + +"Go on, Countess," he smiled. + +She shrugged her shoulders and turned toward him a disdainful back. Her +eyes were all for Bray. + +"It's very brief, the story," she said hastily--I thought almost +apologetically. "I had known the captain in Rangoon. My husband was in +business there--an exporter of rice--and Captain Fraser-Freer came often +to our house. We--he was a charming man, the captain--" + +"Go on!" ordered Hughes. + +"We fell desperately in love," said the countess. "When he returned +to England, though supposedly on a furlough, he told me he would never +return to Rangoon. He expected a transfer to Egypt. So it was arranged +that I should desert my husband and follow on the next boat. I did +so--believing in the captain--thinking he really cared for me--I gave up +everything for him. And then--" + +Her voice broke and she took out a handkerchief. Again that odor of +lilacs in the room. + +"For a time I saw the captain often in London; and then I began to +notice a change. Back among his own kind, with the lonely days in +India a mere memory--he seemed no longer to--to care for me. Then--last +Thursday morning--he called on me to tell me that he was through; that +he would never see me again--in fact, that he was to marry a girl of his +own people who had been waiting--" + +The woman looked piteously about at us. + +"I was desperate," she pleaded. "I had given up all that life held +for me--given it up for a man who now looked at me coldly and spoke +of marrying another. Can you wonder that I went in the evening to his +rooms--went to plead with him--to beg, almost on my knees? It was no +use. He was done with me--he said that over and over. Overwhelmed with +blind rage and despair, I snatched up that knife from the table and +plunged it into his heart. At once I was filled with remorse. I--" + +"One moment," broke in Hughes. "You may keep the details of your +subsequent actions until later. I should like to compliment you, +Countess. You tell it better each time." + +He came over and faced Bray. I thought there was a distinct note of +hostility in his voice. + +"Checkmate, Inspector!" he said. Bray made no reply. He sat there +staring up at the colonel, his face turned to stone. + +"The scarab pin," went on Hughes, "is not yet forthcoming. We are tied +for honors, my friend. You have your confession, but I have one to match +it." + +"All this is beyond me," snapped Bray. + +"A bit beyond me, too," the colonel answered. "Here are two people who +wish us to believe that on the evening of Thursday last, at half after +six of the clock, each sought out Captain Fraser-Freer in his rooms and +murdered him." + +He walked to the window and then wheeled dramatically. + +"The strangest part of it all is," he added, "that at six-thirty +o'clock last Thursday evening, at an obscure restaurant in +Soho--Frigacci's--these two people were having tea together!" + +I must admit that, as the colonel calmly offered this information, I +suddenly went limp all over at a realization of the endless maze of +mystery in which we were involved. The woman gave a little cry and +Lieutenant Fraser-Freer leaped to his feet. + +"How the devil do you know that?" he cried. + +"I know it," said Colonel Hughes, "because one of my men happened to be +having tea at a table near by. He happened to be having tea there for +the reason that ever since the arrival of this lady in London, at the +request of--er--friends in India, I have been keeping track of her every +move; just as I kept watch over your late brother, the captain." + +Without a word Lieutenant Fraser-Freer dropped into a chair and buried +his face in his hands. + +"I'm sorry, my son," said Hughes. "Really, I am. You made a heroic +effort to keep the facts from coming out--a man's-size effort it was. +But the War Office knew long before you did that your brother had +succumbed to this woman's lure--that he was serving her and Berlin, and +not his own country, England." + +Fraser-Freer raised his head. When he spoke there was in his voice an +emotion vastly more sincere than that which had moved him when he made +his absurd confession. + +"The game's up," he said. "I have done all I could. This will kill my +father, I am afraid. Ours has been an honorable name, Colonel; you know +that--a long line of military men whose loyalty to their country has +never before been in question. I thought my confession would end the +whole nasty business, that the investigations would stop, and that +I might be able to keep forever unknown this horrible thing about +him--about my brother." + +Colonel Hughes laid his hand on the boy's shoulder, and the latter went +on: "They reached me--those frightful insinuations about Stephen--in a +round about way; and when he came home from India I resolved to watch +him. I saw him go often to the house of this woman. I satisfied myself +that she was the same one involved in the stories coming from Rangoon; +then, under another name, I managed to meet her. I hinted to her that +I myself was none too loyal; not completely, but to a limited extent, +I won her confidence. Gradually I became convinced that my brother was +indeed disloyal to his country, to his name, to us all. It was at +that tea time you have mentioned when I finally made up my mind. I had +already bought a revolver; and, with it in my pocket, I went to the +Savoy for dinner." + +He rose and paced the floor. + +"I left the Savoy early and went to Stephen's rooms. I was resolved to +have it out with him, to put the matter to him bluntly; and if he had +no explanation to give me I intended to kill him then and there. So, you +see, I was guilty in intention if not in reality. I entered his study. +It was filled with strangers. On his sofa I saw my brother Stephen +lying--stabbed above the heart--dead!" There was a moment's silence. +"That is all," said Lieutenant Fraser-Freer. + +"I take it," said Hughes kindly, "that we have finished with the +lieutenant. Eh, Inspector?" + +"Yes," said Bray shortly. "You may go." + +"Thank you," the boy answered. As he went out he said brokenly to +Hughes: "I must find him--my father." + +Bray sat in his chair, staring hard ahead, his jaw thrust out angrily. +Suddenly he turned on Hughes. + +"You don't play fair," he said. "I wasn't told anything of the status of +the captain at the War Office. This is all news to me." + +"Very well," smiled Hughes. "The bet is off if you like." + +"No, by heaven!" Bray cried. "It's still on, and I'll win it yet. A fine +morning's work I suppose you think you've done. But are we any nearer to +finding the murderer? Tell me that." + +"Only a bit nearer, at any rate," replied Hughes suavely. "This lady, of +course, remains in custody." + +"Yes, yes," answered the inspector. "Take her away!" he ordered. + +A constable came forward for the countess and Colonel Hughes gallantly +held open the door. + +"You will have an opportunity, Sophie," he said, "to think up another +story. You are clever--it will not be hard." + +She gave him a black look and went out. Bray got up from his desk. He +and Colonel Hughes stood facing each other across a table, and to +me there was something in the manner of each that suggested eternal +conflict. + +"Well?" sneered Bray. + +"There is one possibility we have overlooked," Hughes answered. He +turned toward me and I was startled by the coldness in his eyes. "Do you +know, Inspector," he went on, "that this American came to London with +a letter of introduction to the captain--a letter from the captain's +cousin, one Archibald Enwright? And do you know that Fraser-Freer had no +cousin of that name?" + +"No!" said Bray. + +"It happens to be the truth," said Hughes. "The American has confessed +as much to me." + +"Then," said Bray to me, and his little blinking eyes were on me with +a narrow calculating glance that sent the shivers up and down my spine, +"you are under arrest. I have exempted you so far because of your friend +at the United States Consulate. That exemption ends now." + +I was thunderstruck. I turned to the colonel, the man who had suggested +that I seek him out if I needed a friend--the man I had looked to to +save me from just such a contingency as this. But his eyes were quite +fishy and unsympathetic. + +"Quite correct, Inspector," he said. "Lock him up!" And as I began +to protest he passed very close to me and spoke in a low voice: "Say +nothing. Wait!" + +I pleaded to be allowed to go back to my rooms, to communicate with my +friends, and pay a visit to our consulate and to the Embassy; and at the +colonel's suggestion Bray agreed to this somewhat irregular course. So +this afternoon I have been abroad with a constable, and while I wrote +this long letter to you he has been fidgeting in my easy chair. Now he +informs me that his patience is exhausted and that I must go at once. So +there is no time to wonder; no time to speculate as to the future, as to +the colonel's sudden turn against me or the promise of his whisper in my +ear. I shall, no doubt, spend the night behind those hideous, forbidding +walls that your guide has pointed out to you as New Scotland Yard. And +when I shall write again, when I shall end this series of letters so +filled with-- + +The constable will not wait. He is as impatient as a child. Surely he is +lying when he says I have kept him here an hour. + +Wherever I am, dear lady, whatever be the end of this amazing tangle, +you may be sure the thought of you--Confound the man! + +YOURS, IN DURANCE VILE. + + +This fifth letter from the young man of the Agony Column arrived at the +Carlton Hotel, as the reader may recall, on Monday morning, August +the third. And it represented to the girl from Texas the climax of the +excitement she had experienced in the matter of the murder in Adelphi +Terrace. The news that her pleasant young friend--whom she did not +know--had been arrested as a suspect in the case, inevitable as it had +seemed for days, came none the less as an unhappy shock. She wondered +whether there was anything she could do to help. She even considered +going to Scotland Yard and, on the ground that her father was a +Congressman from Texas, demanding the immediate release of her +strawberry man. Sensibly, however, she decided that Congressmen from +Texas meant little in the life of the London police. Besides, she night +have difficulty in explaining to that same Congressman how she happened +to know all about a crime that was as yet unmentioned in the newspapers. + +So she reread the latter portion of the fifth letter, which pictured her +hero marched off ingloriously to Scotland Yard and with a worried little +sigh, went below to join her father. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +In the course of the morning she made several mysterious inquiries of +her parent regarding nice points of international law as it concerned +murder, and it is probable that he would have been struck by the odd +nature of these questions had he not been unduly excited about another +matter. + +"I tell you, we've got to get home!" he announced gloomily. "The German +troops are ready at Aix-la-Chapelle for an assault on Liege. Yes, +sir--they're going to strike through Belgium! Know what that means? +England in the war! Labor troubles; suffragette troubles; civil war in +Ireland--these things will melt away as quickly as that snow we had +lastwinter in Texas. They'll go in. It would be national suicide if they +didn't." + +His daughter stared at him. She was unaware that it was the bootblack +at the Carlton he was now quoting. She began to think he knew more about +foreign affairs than she had given him credit for. + +"Yes, sir," he went on; "we've got to travel--fast. This won't be a +healthy neighborhood for non-combatants when the ruction starts. I'm +going if I have to buy a liner!" + +"Nonsense!" said the girl. "This is the chance of a lifetime. I won't +be cheated out of it by a silly old dad. Why, here we are, face to face +with history!" + +"American history is good enough for me," he spread-eagled. "What are +you looking at?" + +"Provincial to the death!" she said thoughtfully. "You old dear--I love +you so! Some of our statesmen over home are going to look pretty foolish +now in the face of things they can't understand, I hope you're not going +to be one of them." + +"Twaddle!" he cried. "I'm going to the steamship offices to-day and +argue as I never argued for a vote." + +His daughter saw that he was determined; and, wise from long experience, +she did not try to dissuade him. + +London that hot Monday was a city on the alert, a city of hearts heavy +with dread. The rumors in one special edition of the papers were denied +in the next and reaffirmed in the next. Men who could look into the +future walked the streets with faces far from happy. Unrest ruled the +town. And it found its echo in the heart of the girl from Texas as she +thought of her young friend of the Agony Column "in durance vile" behind +the frowning walls of Scotland Yard. + +That afternoon her father appeared, with the beaming mien of the victor, +and announced that for a stupendous sum he had bought the tickets of a +man who was to have sailed on the steamship Saronia three days hence. + +"The boat train leaves at ten Thursday morning," he said. "Take your +last look at Europe and be ready." + +Three days! His daughter listened with sinking heart. Could she in three +days' time learn the end of that strange mystery, know the final fate +of the man who had first addressed her so unconventionally in a public +print? Why, at the end of three days he might still be in Scotland Yard, +a prisoner! She could not leave if that were true--she simply could not. +Almost she was on the point of telling her father the story of the whole +affair, confident that she could soothe his anger and enlist his aid. +She decided to wait until the next morning; and, if no letter came +then-- + +But on Tuesday morning a letter did come and the beginning of it brought +pleasant news. The beginning--yes. But the end! This was the letter: + +DEAR ANXIOUS LADY: Is it too much for me to assume that you have been +just that, knowing as you did that I was locked up for the murder of a +captain in the Indian Army, with the evidence all against me and hope a +very still small voice indeed? + +Well, dear lady, be anxious no longer. I have just lived through the +most astounding day of all the astounding days that have been my portion +since last Thursday. And now, in the dusk, I sit again in my rooms, a +free man, and write to you in what peace and quiet I can command after +the startling adventure through which I have recently passed. + +Suspicion no longer points to me; constables no longer eye me; Scotland +Yard is not even slightly interested in me. For the murderer of Captain +Fraser-Freer has been caught at last! + +Sunday night I spent ingloriously in a cell in Scotland Yard. I could +not sleep. I had so much to think of--you, for example, and at intervals +how I might escape from the folds of the net that had closed so tightly +about me. My friend at the consulate, Watson, called on me late in +the evening; and he was very kind. But there was a note lacking in +his voice, and after he was gone the terrible certainty came into my +mind--he believed that I was guilty after all. + +The night passed, and a goodly portion of to-day went by--as the poets +say--with lagging feet. I thought of London, yellow in the sun. I +thought of the Carlton--I suppose there are no more strawberries by this +time. And my waiter--that stiff-backed Prussian--is home in Deutschland +now, I presume, marching with his regiment. I thought of you. + +At three o'clock this afternoon they came for me and I was led back +to the room belonging to Inspector Bray. When I entered, however, +the inspector was not there--only Colonel Hughes, immaculate and +self-possessed, as usual, gazing out the window into the cheerless +stone court. He turned when I entered. I suppose I must have had a most +woebegone appearance, for a look of regret crossed his face. + +"My dear fellow," he cried, "my most humble apologies! I intended to +have you released last night. But, believe me, I have been frightfully +busy." + +I said nothing. What could I say? The fact that he had been busy struck +me as an extremely silly excuse. But the inference that my escape from +the toils of the law was imminent set my heart to thumping. + +"I fear you can never forgive me for throwing you over as I did +yesterday," he went on. "I can only say that it was absolutely +necessary--as you shall shortly understand." + +I thawed a bit. After all, there was an unmistakable sincerity in his +voice and manner. + +"We are waiting for Inspector Bray," continued the colonel. "I take it +you wish to see this thing through?" + +"To the end," I answered. + +"Naturally. The inspector was called away yesterday immediately after +our interview with him. He had business on the Continent, I understand. +But fortunately I managed to reach him at Dover and he has come back +to London. I wanted him, you see, because I have found the murderer of +Captain Fraser-Freer." + +I thrilled to hear that, for from my point of view it was certainly a +consummation devoutly to be wished. The colonel did not speak again. In +a few minutes the door opened and Bray came in. His clothes looked as +though he had slept in them; his little eyes were bloodshot. But in +those eyes there was a fire I shall never forget. Hughes bowed. + +"Good afternoon, Inspector," he said. "I'm really sorry I had to +interrupt you as I did; but I most awfully wanted you to know that you +owe me a Homburg hat." He went closer to the detective. "You see, I have +won that wager. I have found the man who murdered Captain Fraser-Freer." + +Curiously enough, Bray said nothing. He sat down at his desk and idly +glanced through the pile of mail that lay upon it. Finally he looked up +and said in a weary tone: + +"You're very clever, I'm sure, Colonel Hughes." + +"Oh--I wouldn't say that," replied Hughes. "Luck was with me--from the +first. I am really very glad to have been of service in the matter, for +I am convinced that if I had not taken part in the search it would have +gone hard with some innocent man." + +Bray's big pudgy hands still played idly with the mail on his desk. +Hughes went on: "Perhaps, as a clever detective, you will be interested +in the series of events which enabled me to win that Homburg hat? You +have heard, no doubt, that the man I have caught is Von der Herts--ten +years ago the best secret-service man in the employ of the Berlin +government, but for the past few years mysteriously missing from our +line of vision. We've been wondering about him--at the War Office." + +The colonel dropped into a chair, facing Bray. + +"You know Von der Herts, of course?" he remarked casually. + +"Of course," said Bray, still in that dead tired voice. + +"He is the head of that crowd in England," went on Hughes. "Rather a +feather in my cap to get him--but I mustn't boast. Poor Fraser-Freer +would have got him if I hadn't--only Von der Herts had the luck to get +the captain first." + +Bray raised his eyes. + +"You said you were going to tell me--" he began. + +"And so I am," said Hughes. "Captain Fraser-Freer got in rather a +mess in India and failed of promotion. It was suspected that he was +discontented, soured on the Service; and the Countess Sophie de Graf was +set to beguile him with her charms, to kill his loyalty and win him over +to her crowd. + +"It was thought she had succeeded--the Wilhelmstrasse thought so--we at +the War Office thought so, as long as he stayed in India. + +"But when the captain and the woman came on to London we discovered that +we had done him a great injustice. He let us know, when the first chance +offered, that he was trying to redeem himself, to round up a dangerous +band of spies by pretending to be one of them. He said that it was his +mission in London to meet Von der Herts, the greatest of them all; and +that, once he had located this man, we would hear from him again. In the +weeks that followed I continued to keep a watch on the countess; and I +kept track of the captain, too, in a general way, for I'm ashamed to say +I was not quite sure of him." + +The colonel got up and walked to the window; then turned and continued: +"Captain Fraser-Freer and Von der Herts were completely unknown to +each other. The mails were barred as a means of communication; but +Fraser-Freer knew that in some way word from the master would reach him, +and he had had a tip to watch the personal column of the Daily Mail. Now +we have the explanation of those four odd messages. From that column +the man from Rangoon learned that he was to wear a white aster in his +button-hole, a scarab pin in his tie, a Homburg hat on his head, and +meet Von der Herts at Ye Old Gambrinus Restaurant in Regent Street, last +Thursday night at ten o'clock. As we know, he made all arrangements to +comply with those directions. He made other arrangements as well. Since +it was out of the question for him to come to Scotland Yard, by skillful +maneuvering he managed to interview an inspector of police at the Hotel +Cecil. It was agreed that on Thursday night Von der Herts would be +placed under arrest the moment he made himself known to the captain." + +Hughes paused. Bray still idled with his pile of letters, while the +colonel regarded him gravely. + +"Poor Fraser-Freer!" Hughes went on. "Unfortunately for him, Von der +Herts knew almost as soon as did the inspector that a plan was afoot to +trap him. There was but one course open to him: He located the captain's +lodgings, went there at seven that night, and killed a loyal and brave +Englishman where he stood." + +A tense silence filled the room. I sat on the edge of my chair, +wondering just where all this unwinding of the tangle was leading us. + +"I had little, indeed, to work on," went on Hughes. "But I had this +advantage: the spy thought the police, and the police alone, were +seeking the murderer. He was at no pains to throw me off his track, +because he did not suspect that I was on it. For weeks my men had been +watching the countess. I had them continue to do so. I figured that +sooner or later Von der Herts would get in touch with her. I was right. +And when at last I saw with my own eyes the man who must, beyond all +question, be Von der Herts, I was astounded, my dear Inspector, I was +overwhelmed." + +"Yes?" said Bray. + +"I set to work then in earnest to connect him with that night in Adelphi +Terrace. All the finger marks in the captain's study were for some +reason destroyed, but I found others outside, in the dust on that +seldom-used gate which leads from the garden. Without his knowing, +I secured from the man I suspected the imprint of his right thumb. A +comparison was startling. Next I went down into Fleet Street and luckily +managed to get hold of the typewritten copy sent to the Mail bearing +those four messages. I noticed that in these the letter a was out +of alignment. I maneuvered to get a letter written on a typewriter +belonging to my man. The a was out of alignment. Then Archibald +Enwright, a renegade and waster well known to us as serving other +countries, came to England. My man and he met--at Ye Old Gambrinus, in +Regent Street. And finally, on a visit to the lodgings of this man who, +I was now certain, was Von der Herts, under the mattress of his bed I +found this knife." + +And Colonel Hughes threw down upon the inspector's desk the knife from +India that I had last seen in the study of Captain Fraser-Freer. + +"All these points of evidence were in my hands yesterday morning in +this room," Hughes went on. "Still, the answer they gave me was so +unbelievable, so astounding, I was not satisfied; I wanted even stronger +proof. That is why I directed suspicion to my American friend here. I +was waiting. I knew that at last Von der Herts realized the danger he +was in. I felt that if opportunity were offered he would attempt +to escape from England; and then our proofs of his guilt would be +unanswerable, despite his cleverness. True enough, in the afternoon he +secured the release of the countess, and together they started for the +Continent. I was lucky enough to get him at Dover--and glad to let the +lady go on." + +And now, for the first time, the startling truth struck me full in the +face as Hughes smiled down at his victim. + +"Inspector Bray," he said, "or Von der Herts, as you choose, I arrest +you on two counts: First, as the head of the Wilhelmstrasse spy system +in England; second, as the murderer of Captain Fraser-Freer. And, if you +will allow me, I wish to compliment you on your efficiency." + +Bray did not reply for a moment. I sat numb in my chair. Finally the +inspector looked up. He actually tried to smile. + +"You win the hat," he said, "but you must go to Homburg for it. I will +gladly pay all expenses." + +"Thank you," answered Hughes. "I hope to visit your country before long; +but I shall not be occupied with hats. Again I congratulate you. You +were a bit careless, but your position justified that. As head of the +department at Scotland Yard given over to the hunt for spies, precaution +doubtless struck you as unnecessary. How unlucky for poor Fraser-Freer +that it was to you he went to arrange for your own arrest! I got that +information from a clerk at the Cecil. You were quite right, from your +point of view, to kill him. And, as I say, you could afford to be rather +reckless. You had arranged that when the news of his murder came to +Scotland Yard you yourself would be on hand to conduct the search for +the guilty man. A happy situation, was it not?" + +"It seemed so at the time," admitted Bray; and at last I thought I +detected a note of bitterness in his voice. + +"I'm very sorry--really," said Hughes. "To-day, or to-morrow at the +latest, England will enter the war. You know what that means, Von der +Herts. The Tower of London--and a firing squad!" + +Deliberately he walked away from the inspector, and stood facing the +window. Von der Herts was fingering idly that Indian knife which lay on +his desk. With a quick hunted look about the room, he raised his hand; +and before I could leap forward to stop him he had plunged the knife +into his heart. + +Colonel Hughes turned round at my cry, but even at what met his eyes now +that Englishman was imperturbable. + +"Too bad!" he said. "Really too bad! The man had courage and, beyond +all doubt, brains. But--this is most considerate of him. He has saved me +such a lot of trouble." + +The colonel effected my release at once; and he and I walked down +Whitehall together in the bright sun that seemed so good to me after the +bleak walls of the Yard. Again he apologized for turning suspicion my +way the previous day; but I assured him I held no grudge for that. + +"One or two things I do not understand," I said. "That letter I brought +from Interlaken--" + +"Simple enough," he replied. "Enwright--who, by the way, is now in the +Tower--wanted to communicate with Fraser-Freer, who he supposed was a +loyal member of the band. Letters sent by post seemed dangerous. With +your kind assistance he informed the captain of his whereabouts and the +date of his imminent arrival in London. Fraser-Freer, not wanting you +entangled in his plans, eliminated you by denying the existence of this +cousin--the truth, of course." + +"Why," I asked, "did the countess call on me to demand that I alter my +testimony?" + +"Bray sent her. He had rifled Fraser-Freer's desk and he held that +letter from Enwright. He was most anxious to fix the guilt upon the +young lieutenant's head. You and your testimony as to the hour of the +crime stood in the way. He sought to intimidate you with threats--" + +"But--" + +"I know--you are wondering why the countess confessed to me next day. +I had the woman in rather a funk. In the meshes of my rapid-fire +questioning she became hopelessly involved. This was because she was +suddenly terrified she realized I must have been watching her for weeks, +and that perhaps Von der Herts was not so immune from suspicion as he +supposed. At the proper moment I suggested that I might have to take her +to Inspector Bray. This gave her an idea. She made her fake confession +to reach his side; once there, she warned him of his danger and they +fled together." + +We walked along a moment in silence. All about us the lurid special +editions of the afternoon were flaunting their predictions of the horror +to come. The face of the colonel was grave. + +"How long had Von der Herts held his position at the Yard?" I asked. + +"For nearly five years," Hughes answered. + +"It seems incredible," I murmured. + +"So it does," he answered; "but it is only the first of many incredible +things that this war will reveal. Two months from now we shall all have +forgotten it in the face of new revelations far more unbelievable." He +sighed. "If these men about us realized the terrible ordeal that +lies ahead! Misgoverned; unprepared--I shudder at the thought of the +sacrifices we must make, many of them in vain. But I suppose that +somehow, some day, we shall muddle through." + +He bade me good-by in Trafalgar Square, saying that he must at once +seek out the father and brother of the late captain, and tell them the +news--that their kinsman was really loyal to his country. + +"It will come to them as a ray of light in the dark--my news," he said. +"And now, thank you once again." + +We parted and I came back here to my lodgings. The mystery is finally +solved, though in such a way it is difficult to believe that it was +anything but a nightmare at any time. But solved none the less; and I +should be at peace, except for one great black fact that haunts me, will +not let me rest. I must tell you, dear lady--And yet I fear it means the +end of everything. If only I can make you understand! + +I have walked my floor, deep in thought, in puzzlement, in indecision. +Now I have made up my mind. There is no other way--I must tell you the +truth. + +Despite the fact that Bray was Von der Herts; despite the fact that +he killed himself at the discovery--despite this and that, and +everything--Bray did not kill Captain Fraser-Freer! + +On last Thursday evening, at a little after seven o'clock, I myself +climbed the stairs, entered the captain's rooms, picked up that knife +from his desk, and stabbed him just above the heart! + +What provocation I was under, what stern necessity moved me--all this +you must wait until to-morrow to know. I shall spend another anxious day +preparing my defense, hoping that through some miracle of mercy you may +forgive me--understand that there was nothing else I could do. + +Do not judge, dear lady, until you know everything--until all my +evidence is in your lovely hands. + +YOURS, IN ALL HUMILITY. + + +The first few paragraphs of this the sixth and next to the last letter +from the Agony Column man had brought a smile of relief to the face of +the girl who read. She was decidedly glad to learn that her friend no +longer languished back of those gray walls on Victoria Embankment. With +excitement that increased as she went along, she followed Colonel Hughes +as--in the letter--he moved nearer and nearer his denouement, until +finally his finger pointed to Inspector Bray sitting guilty in his +chair. This was an eminently satisfactory solution, and it served the +inspector right for locking up her friend. Then, with the suddenness +of a bomb from a Zeppelin, came, at the end, her strawberry man's +confession of guilt. He was the murderer, after all! He admitted it! She +could scarcely believe her eyes. + +Yet there it was, in ink as violet as those eyes, on the note paper that +had become so familiar to her during the thrilling week just past. She +read it a second time, and yet a third. Her amazement gave way to anger; +her cheeks flamed. Still--he had asked her not to judge until all his +evidence was in. This was a reasonable request surely, and she could not +in fairness refuse to grant it. + + +CHAPTER VIII + +So began an anxious day, not only for the girl from Texas but for all +London as well. Her father was bursting with new diplomatic secrets +recently extracted from his bootblack adviser. Later, in Washington, he +was destined to be a marked man because of his grasp of the situation +abroad. No one suspected the bootblack, the power behind the throne; +but the gentleman from Texas was destined to think of that able diplomat +many times, and to wish that he still had him at his feet to advise him. + +"War by midnight, sure!" he proclaimed on the morning of this fateful +Tuesday. "I tell you, Marian, we're lucky to have our tickets on the +Saronia. Five thousand dollars wouldn't buy them from me to-day! I'll be +a happy man when we go aboard that liner day after to-morrow." + +Day after to-morrow! The girl wondered. At any rate, she would have that +last letter then--the letter that was to contain whatever defense +her young friend could offer to explain his dastardly act. She waited +eagerly for that final epistle. + +The day dragged on, bringing at its close England's entrance into the +war; and the Carlton bootblack was a prophet not without honor in a +certain Texas heart. And on the following morning there arrived a letter +which was torn open by eager trembling fingers. The letter spoke: + +DEAR LADY JUDGE: This is by far the hardest to write of all the letters +you have had from me. For twenty-four hours I have been planning it. +Last night I walked on the Embankment while the hansoms jogged by and +the lights of the tramcars danced on Westminster Bridge just as the +fireflies used to in the garden back of our house in Kansas. While I +walked I planned. To-day, shut up in my rooms, I was also planning. And +yet now, when I sit down to write, I am still confused; still at a loss +where to begin and what to say, once I have begun. + +At the close of my last letter I confessed to you that it was I who +murdered Captain Fraser-Freer. That is the truth. Soften the blow as I +may, it all comes down to that. The bitter truth! + +Not a week ago--last Thursday night at seven--I climbed our dark stairs +and plunged a knife into the heart of that defenseless gentleman. If +only I could point out to you that he had offended me in some way; if I +could prove to you that his death was necessary to me, as it really +was to Inspector Bray--then there might be some hope of your ultimate +pardon. But, alas! he had been most kind to me--kinder than I have +allowed you to guess from my letters. There was no actual need to do +away with him. Where shall I look for a defense? + +At the moment the only defense I can think of is simply this--the +captain knows I killed him! + +Even as I write this, I hear his footsteps above me, as I heard them +when I sat here composing my first letter to you. He is dressing for +dinner. We are to dine together at Romano's. + +And there, my lady, you have finally the answer to the mystery that +has--I hope--puzzled you. I killed my friend the captain in my second +letter to you, and all the odd developments that followed lived only in +my imagination as I sat here beside the green-shaded lamp in my study, +plotting how I should write seven letters to you that would, as the +novel advertisements say, grip your attention to the very end. Oh, I am +guilty--there is no denying that. And, though I do not wish to ape old +Adam and imply that I was tempted by a lovely woman, a strict regard for +the truth forces me to add that there is also guilt upon your head. +How so? Go back to that message you inserted in the Daily Mail: "The +grapefruit lady's great fondness for mystery and romance--" + +You did not know it, of course; but in those words you passed me a +challenge I could not resist; for making plots is the business of +life--more, the breath of life--to me. I have made many; and perhaps you +have followed some of them, on Broadway. Perhaps you have seen a play of +mine announced for early production in London. There was mention of it +in the program at the Palace. That was the business which kept me in +England. The project has been abandoned now and I am free to go back +home. + +Thus you see that when you granted me the privilege of those seven +letters you played into my hands. So, said I, she longs for mystery and +romance. Then, by the Lord Harry, she shall have them! + +And it was the tramp of Captain Fraser-Freer's boots above my head that +showed me the way. A fine, stalwart, cordial fellow--the captain--who +has been very kind to me since I presented my letter of introduction +from his cousin, Archibald Enwright. Poor Archie! A meek, correct little +soul, who would be horrified beyond expression if he knew that of him I +had made a spy and a frequenter of Limehouse! + +The dim beginnings of the plot were in my mind when I wrote that first +letter, suggesting that all was not regular in the matter of Archie's +note of introduction. Before I wrote my second, I knew that nothing but +the death of Fraser-Freer would do me. I recalled that Indian knife I +had seen upon his desk, and from that moment he was doomed. At that +time I had no idea how I should solve the mystery. But I had read and +wondered at those four strange messages in the Mail, and I resolved that +they must figure in the scheme of things. + +The fourth letter presented difficulties until I returned from dinner +that night and saw a taxi waiting before our quiet house. Hence +the visit of the woman with the lilac perfume. I am afraid the +Wilhelmstrasse would have little use for a lady spy who advertised +herself in so foolish a manner. Time for writing the fifth letter +arrived. I felt that I should now be placed under arrest. I had a faint +little hope that you would be sorry about that. Oh, I'm a brute, I know! + +Early in the game I had told the captain of the cruel way in which I had +disposed of him. He was much amused; but he insisted, absolutely, that +he must be vindicated before the close of the series, and I was with him +there. He had been so bully about it all. A chance remark of his gave me +my solution. He said he had it on good authority that the chief of +the Czar's bureau for capturing spies in Russia was himself a spy. And +so--why not a spy in Scotland Yard? + +I assure you, I am most contrite as I set all this down here. You must +remember that when I began my story there was no idea of war. Now all +Europe is aflame; and in the face of the great conflict, the awful +suffering to come, I and my little plot begin to look--well, I fancy you +know just how we look. + +Forgive me. I am afraid I can never find the words to tell you how +important it seemed to interest you in my letters--to make you feel that +I am an entertaining person worthy of your notice. That morning when you +entered the Carlton breakfast room was really the biggest in my life. I +felt as though you had brought with you through that doorway--But I have +no right to say it. I have the right to say nothing save that now--it +is all left to you. If I have offended, then I shall never hear from you +again. + +The captain will be here in a moment. It is near the hour set and he is +never late. He is not to return to India, but expects to be drafted for +the Expeditionary Force that will be sent to the Continent. I hope the +German Army will be kinder to him than I was! + +My name is Geoffrey West. I live at nineteen Adelphi Terrace--in rooms +that look down on the most wonderful garden in London. That, at +least, is real. It is very quiet there to-night, with the city and its +continuous hum of war and terror seemingly a million miles away. + +Shall we meet at last? The answer rests entirely with you. But, believe +me, I shall be anxiously waiting to know; and if you decide to give me a +chance to explain--to denounce myself to you in person--then a happy man +will say good-by to this garden and these dim dusty rooms and follow you +to the ends of the earth--aye, to Texas itself! + +Captain Fraser-Freer is coming down the stairs. Is this good-by forever, +my lady? With all my soul, I hope not. + +YOUR CONTRITE STRAWBERRY MAN. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +Words are futile things with which to attempt a description of the +feelings of the girl at the Carlton as she read this, the last letter +of seven written to her through the medium of her maid, Sadie Haight. +Turning the pages of the dictionary casually, one might enlist a +few--for example, amazement, anger, unbelief, wonder. Perhaps, to go +back to the letter a, even amusement. We may leave her with the solution +to the puzzle in her hand, the Saronia a little more than a day away, +and a weirdly mixed company of emotions struggling in her soul. + +And leaving her thus, let us go back to Adelphi Terrace and a young man +exceedingly worried. + +Once he knew that his letter was delivered, Mr. Geoffrey West took his +place most humbly on the anxious seat. There he writhed through the long +hours of Wednesday morning. Not to prolong this painful picture, let us +hasten to add that at three o'clock that same afternoon came a telegram +that was to end suspense. He tore it open and read: + +STRAWBERRY MAN: I shall never, never forgive, you. But we are sailing +tomorrow on the Saronia. Were you thinking of going home soon? MARIAN A. +LARNED. + +Thus it happened that, a few minutes later, to the crowd of troubled +Americans in a certain steamship booking office there was added a +wild-eyed young man who further upset all who saw him. To weary clerks +he proclaimed in fiery tones that he must sail on the Saronia. There +seemed to be no way of appeasing him. The offer of a private liner would +not have interested him. + +He raved and tore his hair. He ranted. All to no avail. There was, in +plain American, "nothing doing!" + +Damp but determined, he sought among the crowd for one who had bookings +on the Saronia. He could find, at first, no one so lucky; but finally he +ran across Tommy Gray. Gray, an old friend, admitted when pressed that +he had a passage on that most desirable boat. But the offer of all the +king's horses and all the king's gold left him unmoved. Much, he said, +as he would have liked to oblige, he and his wife were determined. They +would sail. + +It was then that Geoffrey West made a compact with his friend. He +secured from him the necessary steamer labels and it was arranged that +his baggage was to go aboard the Saronia as the property of Gray. + +"But," protested Gray, "even suppose you do put this through; suppose +you do manage to sail without a ticket--where will you sleep? In chains +somewhere below, I fancy." + +"No matter!" bubbled West. "I'll sleep in the dining saloon, in a +lifeboat, on the lee scuppers--whatever they are. I'll sleep in the +air, without any visible support! I'll sleep anywhere--nowhere--but I'll +sail! And as for irons--they don't make 'em strong enough to hold me." + +At five o'clock on Thursday afternoon the Saronia slipped smoothly away +from a Liverpool dock. Twenty-five hundred Americans--about twice the +number the boat could comfortably carry--stood on her decks and cheered. +Some of those in that crowd who had millions of money were booked +for the steerage. All of them were destined to experience during that +crossing hunger, annoyance, discomfort. They were to be stepped on, sat +on, crowded and jostled. They suspected as much when the boat left the +dock. Yet they cheered! + +Gayest among them was Geoffrey West, triumphant amid the confusion. He +was safely aboard; the boat was on its way! Little did it trouble him +that he went as a stowaway, since he had no ticket; nothing but an +overwhelming determination to be on the good ship Saronia. + +That night as the Saronia stole along with all deck lights out and every +porthole curtained, West saw on the dim deck the slight figure of a +girl who meant much to him. She was standing staring out over the black +waters; and, with wildly beating heart, he approached her, not knowing +what to say, but feeling that a start must be made somehow. + +"Please pardon me for addressing--" he began. "But I want to tell you--" + +She turned, startled; and then smiled an odd little smile, which he +could not see in the dark. + +"I beg your pardon," she said. "I haven't met you, that I recall--" + +"I know," he answered. "That's going to be arranged to-morrow. Mrs. +Tommy Gray says you crossed with them--" + +"Mere steamer acquaintances," the girl replied coldly. + +"Of course! But Mrs. Gray is a darling--she'll fix that all right. I +just want to say, before to-morrow comes--" + +"Wouldn't it be better to wait?" + +"I can't! I'm on this ship without a ticket. I've got to go down in a +minute and tell the purser that. Maybe he'll throw me overboard; maybe +he'll lock me up. I don't know what they do with people like me. Maybe +they'll make a stoker of me. And then I shall have to stoke, with no +chance of seeing you again. So that's why I want to say now--I'm sorry +I have such a keen imagination. It carried me away--really it did! +I didn't mean to deceive you with those letters; but, once I got +started--You know, don't you, that I love you with all my heart? From +the moment you came into the Carlton that morning I--" + +"Really--Mr.--Mr.--" + +"West--Geoffrey West. I adore you! What can I do to prove it? I'm going +to prove it--before this ship docks in the North River. Perhaps I'd +better talk to your father, and tell him about the Agony Column and +those seven letters--" + +"You'd better not! He's in a terribly bad humor. The dinner was awful, +and the steward said we'd be looking back to it and calling it a banquet +before the voyage ends. Then, too, poor dad says he simply can not sleep +in the stateroom they've given him--" + +"All the better! I'll see him at once. If he stands for me now he'll +stand for me any time! And, before I go down and beard a harsh-looking +purser in his den, won't you believe me when I say I'm deeply in love--" + +"In love with mystery and romance! In love with your own remarkable +powers of invention! Really, I can't take you seriously--" + +"Before this voyage is ended you'll have to. I'll prove to you that I +care. If the purser lets me go free--" + +"You have much to prove," the girl smiled. "To-morrow--when Mrs. Tommy +Gray introduces us--I may accept you--as a builder of plots. I happen +to know you are good. But--as--It's too silly! Better go and have it out +with that purser." + +Reluctantly he went. In five minutes he was back. The girl was still +standing by the rail. + +"It's all right!" West said. "I thought I was doing something original, +but there were eleven other people in the same fix. One of them is a +billionaire from Wall Street. The purser collected some money from us +and told us to sleep on the deck--if we could find room." + +"I'm sorry," said the girl. "I rather fancied you in the role of +stoker." She glanced about her at the dim deck. "Isn't this exciting? +I'm sure this voyage is going to be filled with mystery and romance." + +"I know it will be full of romance," West answered. "And the mystery +will be--can I convince you--" + +"Hush!" broke in the girl. "Here comes father! I shall be very happy to +meet you--to-morrow. Poor dad! he's looking for a place to sleep." + +Five days later poor dad, having slept each night on deck in his clothes +while the ship plowed through a cold drizzle, and having starved in +a sadly depleted dining saloon, was a sight to move the heart of +a political opponent. Immediately after a dinner that had scarcely +satisfied a healthy Texas appetite he lounged gloomily in the deck chair +which was now his stateroom. Jauntily Geoffrey West came and sat at his +side. + +"Mr. Larned," he said, "I've got something for you." + +And, with a kindly smile, he took from his pocket and handed over a +large, warm baked potato. The Texan eagerly accepted the gift. + +"Where'd you get it?" he demanded, breaking open his treasure. + +"That's a secret," West answered. "But I can get as many as I want. Mr. +Larned, I can say this--you will not go hungry any longer. And there's +something else I ought to speak of. I am sort of aiming to marry your +daughter." + +Deep in his potato the Congressman spoke: + +"What does she say about it?" + +"Oh, she says there isn't a chance. But--" + +"Then look out, my boy! She's made up her mind to have you." + +"I'm glad to hear you say that. I really ought to tell you who I am. +Also, I want you to know that, before your daughter and I met, I wrote +her seven letters--" + +"One minute," broke in the Texan. "Before you go into all that, won't +you be a good fellow and tell me where you got this potato?" + +West nodded. + +"Sure!" he said; and, leaning over, he whispered. + +For the first time in days a smile appeared on the face of the older +man. + +"My boy," he said, "I feel I'm going to like you. Never mind the rest. +I heard all about you from your friend Gray; and as for those +letters--they were the only thing that made the first part of this trip +bearable. Marian gave them to me to read the night we came on board." + +Suddenly from out of the clouds a long-lost moon appeared, and bathed +that over-crowded ocean liner in a flood of silver. West left the old +man to his potato and went to find the daughter. + +She was standing in the moonlight by the rail of the forward deck, her +eyes staring dreamily ahead toward the great country that had sent her +forth light-heartedly for to adventure and to see. She turned as West +came up. + +"I have just been talking with your father," he said. "He tells me he +thinks you mean to take me, after all." + +She laughed. "To-morrow night," she answered, "will be our last on +board. I shall give you my final decision then." + +"But that is twenty-four hours away! Must I wait so long as that?" + +"A little suspense won't hurt you. I can't forget those long days when I +waited for your letters--" + +"I know! But can't you give me--just a little hint--here--to-night?" + +"I am without mercy--absolutely without mercy!" + +And then, as West's fingers closed over her hand, she added softly: +"Not even the suspicion of a hint, my dear--except to tell you that--my +answer will be--yes." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Agony Column, by Earl Derr Biggers + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AGONY COLUMN *** + +***** This file should be named 1814.txt or 1814.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/1/1814/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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It seems, +looking back, as though the big baking city in those days was meant +to serve as an anteroom of torture--an inadequate bit of +preparation for the hell that was soon to break in the guise of the +Great War. About the soda-water bar in the drug store near the +Hotel Cecil many American tourists found solace in the sirups and +creams of home. Through the open windows of the Piccadilly tea +shops you might catch glimpses of the English consuming quarts of +hot tea in order to become cool. It is a paradox they swear by. + +About nine o'clock on the morning of Friday, July twenty-fourth, +in that memorable year nineteen hundred and fourteen, Geoffrey West +left his apartments in Adelphi Terrace and set out for breakfast at +the Carlton. He had found the breakfast room of that dignified hotel +the coolest in London, and through some miracle, for the season had +passed, strawberries might still be had there. As he took his way +through the crowded Strand, surrounded on all sides by honest +British faces wet with honest British perspiration he thought +longingly of his rooms in Washington Square, New York. For West, +despite the English sound of that Geoffrey, was as American as +Kansas, his native state, and only pressing business was at that +moment holding him in England, far from the country that glowed +unusually rosy because of its remoteness. + +At the Carlton news stand West bought two morning papers--the +Times for study and the Mail for entertainment and then passed on +into the restaurant. His waiter--a tall soldierly Prussian, +more blond than West himself--saw him coming and, with a nod and +a mechanical German smile, set out for the plate of strawberries +which he knew would be the first thing desired by the American. +West seated himself at his usual table and, spreading out the Daily +Mail, sought his favorite column. The first item in that column +brought a delighted smile to his face: + +"The one who calls me Dearest is not genuine or they would write +to me." + +Any one at all familiar with English journalism will recognize at +once what department it was that appealed most to West. During +his three weeks in London he had been following, with the keenest +joy, the daily grist of Personal Notices in the Mail. This string +of intimate messages, popularly known as the Agony Column, has long +been an honored institution in the English press. In the days of +Sherlock Holmes it was in the Times that it flourished, and many a +criminal was tracked to earth after he had inserted some alluring +mysterious message in it. Later the Telegraph gave it room; but, +with the advent of halfpenny journalism, the simple souls moved +en masse to the Mail. + +Tragedy and comedy mingle in the Agony Column. Erring ones are +urged to return for forgiveness; unwelcome suitors are warned that +"Father has warrant prepared; fly, Dearest One!" Loves that would +shame by their ardor Abelard and Heloise are frankly published--at +ten cents a word--for all the town to smile at. The gentleman in +the brown derby states with fervor that the blonde governess who +got off the tram at Shepherd's Bush has quite won his heart. Will +she permit his addresses? Answer; this department. For three +weeks West had found this sort of thing delicious reading. Best of +all, he could detect in these messages nothing that was not open +and innocent. At their worst they were merely an effort to +side-step old Lady Convention; this inclination was so rare in +the British, he felt it should be encouraged. Besides, he was +inordinately fond of mystery and romance, and these engaging twins +hovered always about that column. + + +So, while waiting for his strawberries, he smiled over the +ungrammatical outburst of the young lady who had come to doubt the +genuineness of him who called her Dearest. He passed on to the +second item of the morning. Spoke one whose heart had been +completely conquered: + +MY LADY sleeps. She of raven tresses. Corner seat from Victoria, +Wednesday night. Carried program. Gentleman answering inquiry +desires acquaintance. Reply here. --LE ROI. + +West made a mental note to watch for the reply of raven tresses. +The next message proved to be one of Aye's lyrics--now almost a +daily feature of the column: + +DEAREST: Tender loving wishes to my dear one. Only to be with you +now and always. None "fairer in my eyes." Your name is music to +me. I love you more than life itself, my own beautiful darling, +my proud sweetheart, my joy, my all! Jealous of everybody. Kiss +your dear hands for me. Love you only. Thine ever. --AYE. + +Which, reflected West, was generous of Aye--at ten cents a word +--and in striking contrast to the penurious lover who wrote, +farther along in the column: + +--loveu dearly; wantocu; longing; missu-- + +But those extremely personal notices ran not alone to love. +Mystery, too, was present, especially in the aquatic utterance: + +DEFIANT MERMAID: Not mine. Alligators bitingu now. 'Tis well; +delighted. --FIRST FISH. + +And the rather sanguinary suggestion: + +DE Box: First round; tooth gone. Finale. You will FORGET ME NOT. + +At this point West's strawberries arrived and even the Agony +Column could not hold his interest. When the last red berry was +eaten he turned back to read: + +WATERLOO: Wed. 11:53 train. Lady who left in taxi and waved, +care to know gent, gray coat? --SINCERE. + +Also the more dignified request put forward in: + +GREAT CENTRAL: Gentleman who saw lady in bonnet 9 Monday morning +in Great Central Hotel lift would greatly value opportunity of +obtaining introduction. + +This exhausted the joys of the Agony Column for the day, and West, +like the solid citizen he really was, took up the Times to discover +what might be the morning's news. A great deal of space was given +to the appointment of a new principal for Dulwich College. The +affairs of the heart, in which that charming creature, Gabrielle +Ray, was at the moment involved, likewise claimed attention. And +in a quite unimportant corner, in a most unimportant manner, it was +related that Austria had sent an ultimatum to Serbia. West had +read part way through this stupid little piece of news, when +suddenly the Thunderer and all its works became an uninteresting +blur. + +A girl stood just inside the door of the Carlton breakfast room. + +Yes; he should have pondered that despatch from Vienna. But such +a girl! It adds nothing at all to say that her hair was a dull +sort of gold; her eyes violet. Many girls have been similarly +blessed. It was her manner; the sweet way she looked with those +violet eyes through a battalion of head waiters and resplendent +managers; her air of being at home here in the Carlton or anywhere +else that fate might drop her down. Unquestionably she came from +oversea--from the States. + +She stepped forward into the restaurant. And now slipped also into +view, as part of the background for her, a middle-aged man, who +wore the conventional black of the statesman. He, too, bore the +American label unmistakably. Nearer and nearer to West she drew, +and he saw that in her hand she carried a copy of the Daily Mail. + +West's waiter was a master of the art of suggesting that no table +in the room was worth sitting at save that at which he held ready +a chair. Thus he lured the girl and her companion to repose not +five feet from where West sat. This accomplished, he whipped out +his order book, and stood with pencil poised, like a reporter in +an American play. + +"The strawberries are delicious," he said in honeyed tones. + +The man looked at the girl, a question in his eyes. + +"Not for me, dad," she said. "I hate them! Grapefruit, please." + +As the waiter hurried past, West hailed him. He spoke in loud +defiant tones. + +"Another plate of the strawberries!" he commanded. "They are +better than ever to-day." + +For a second, as though he were part of the scenery, those violet +eyes met his with a casual impersonal glance. Then their owner +slowly spread out her own copy of the Mail. + +"What's the news?" asked the statesman, drinking deep from his +glass of water. + +"Don't ask me," the girl answered, without looking up. "I've found +something more entertaining than news. Do you know--the English +papers run humorous columns! Only they aren't called that. They're +called Personal Notices. And such notices!" She leaned across +the table. "Listen to this: 'Dearest: Tender loving wishes to my +dear one. Only to be with you now and always. None "fairer in my +eyes."--'" + +The man locked uncomfortably about him. "Hush!" he pleaded. "It +doesn't sound very nice to me." + +"Nice!" cried the girl. "Oh, but it is--quite nice. And so +deliciously open and aboveboard. 'Your name is music to me. I +love you more--'" + +"What do we see to-day?" put in her father hastily. + +"We're going down to the City and have a look at the Temple. +Thackeray lived there once--and Oliver Goldsmith--" + +"All right--the Temple it is." + +"Then the Tower of London. It's full of the most romantic +associations. Especially the Bloody Tower, where those poor little +princes were murdered. Aren't you thrilled?" + +"I am if you say so." + +"You're a dear! I promise not to tell the people back in Texas +that you showed any interest in kings and such--if you will show +just a little. Otherwise I'll spread the awful news that you +took off your hat when King George went by." + +The statesman smiled. West felt that he, who had no business to, +was smiling with him. + +The waiter returned, bringing grapefruit, and the strawberries West +had ordered. Without another look toward West, the girl put down +her paper and began her breakfasting. As often as he dared, however, +West looked at her. With patriotic pride he told himself: "Six +months in Europe, and the most beautiful thing I've seen comes from +back home!" + +When he rose reluctantly twenty minutes later his two compatriots +were still at table, discussing their plans for the day. As is +usual in such cases, the girl arranged, the man agreed. + +With one last glance in her direction, West went out on the parched +pavement of Haymarket. + +Slowly he walked back to his rooms. Work was waiting there for +him; but instead of getting down to it, he sat on the balcony of +his study, gazing out on the courtyard that had been his chief +reason for selecting those apartments. Here, in the heart of the +city, was a bit of the countryside transported--the green, trim, +neatly tailored countryside that is the most satisfying thing in +England. There were walls on which the ivy climbed high, narrow +paths that ran between blooming beds of flowers, and opposite +his windows a seldom-opened, most romantic gate. As he sat +looking down he seemed to see there below him the girl of the +Carlton. Now she sat on the rustic bench; now she bent above the +envious flowers; now she stood at the gate that opened out to a +hot sudden bit of the city. + +And as he watched her there in the garden she would never enter, as +he reflected unhappily that probably he would see her no more--the +idea came to him. + +At first he put it from him as absurd, impossible. She was, to +apply a fine word much abused, a lady; he supposedly a gentleman. +Their sort did not do such things. If he yielded to this temptation +she would be shocked, angry, and from him would slip that one chance +in a thousand he had--the chance of meeting her somewhere, some day. + +And yet--and yet--She, too, had found the Agony Column entertaining +and--quite nice. There was a twinkle in her eyes that bespoke a +fondness for romance. She was human, fun-loving--and, above all, +the joy of youth was in her heart. + +Nonsense! West went inside and walked the floor. The idea was +preposterous. Still--he smiled--it was filled with amusing +possibilities. Too bad he must put it forever away and settle down +to this stupid work! + +Forever away? Well-- + +On the next morning, which was Saturday, West did not breakfast at +the Carlton. The girl, however, did. As she and her father sat +down the old man said: "I see you've got your Daily Mail." + +"Of course!" she answered. "I couldn't do without it. Grapefruit +--yes." + +She began to read. Presently her cheeks flushed and she put the +paper down. + +"What is it?" asked the Texas statesman. + +"To-day," she answered sternly, "you do the British Museum. You've +put it off long enough." + +The old man sighed. Fortunately he did not ask to see the Mail. +If he had, a quarter way down the column of personal notices he +would have been enraged--or perhaps only puzzled--to read: + +CARLTON RESTAURANT: Nine A.M. Friday morning. Will the young woman +who preferred grapefruit to strawberries permit the young man who +had two plates of the latter to say he will not rest until he +discovers some mutual friend, that they may meet and laugh over +this column together? + + Lucky for the young man who liked strawberries that his nerve had +failed him and he was not present at the Carlton that morning! He +would have been quite overcome to see the stern uncompromising look +on the beautiful face of a lady at her grapefruit. So overcome, in +fact, that he would probably have left the room at once, and thus +not seen the mischievous smile that came in time to the lady's face +--not seen that she soon picked up the paper again and read, with +that smile, to the end of the column. + + + +CHAPTER II + +The next day was Sunday; hence it brought no Mail. Slowly it +dragged along. At a ridiculously early hour Monday morning +Geoffrey West was on the street, seeking his favorite newspaper. +He found it, found the Agony Column--and nothing else. Tuesday +morning again he rose early, still hopeful. Then and there hope +died. The lady at the Carlton deigned no reply. + +Well, he had lost, he told himself. He had staked all on this +one bold throw; no use. Probably if she thought of him at all it +was to label him a cheap joker, a mountebank of the halfpenny +press. Richly he deserved her scorn. + +On Wednesday he slept late. He was in no haste to look into the +Daily Mail; his disappointments of the previous days had been too +keen. At last, while he was shaving, he summoned Walters, the +caretaker of the building, and sent him out to procure a certain +morning paper. + +Walters came back bearing rich treasure, for in the Agony Column +of that day West, his face white with lather, read joyously: + +STRAWBERRY MAN: Only the grapefruit lady's kind heart and her great +fondness for mystery and romance move her to answer. The +strawberry-mad one may write one letter a day for seven days--to +prove that he is an interesting person, worth knowing. Then--we +shall see. Address: M. A. L., care Sadie Haight, Carlton Hotel. + +All day West walked on air, but with the evening came the problem +of those letters, on which depended, he felt, his entire future +happiness. Returning from dinner, he sat down at his desk near +the windows that looked out on his wonderful courtyard. The weather +was still torrid, but with the night had come a breeze to fan the +hot cheek of London. It gently stirred his curtains; rustled the +papers on his desk. + +He considered. Should he at once make known the eminently +respectable person he was, the hopelessly respectable people he +knew? Hardly! For then, on the instant, like a bubble bursting, +would go for good all mystery and romance, and the lady of the +grapefruit would lose all interest and listen to him no more. He +spoke solemnly to his rustling curtains. + +"No," he said. "We must have mystery and romance. But where--where +shall we find them?" + +On the floor above he heard the solid tramp of military boots +belonging to his neighbor, Captain Stephen Fraser-Freer, of the +Twelfth Cavalry, Indian Army, home on furlough from that colony +beyond the seas. It was from that room overhead that romance and +mystery were to come in mighty store; but Geoffrey West little +suspected it at the moment. Hardly knowing what to say, but gaining +inspiration as he went along, he wrote the first of seven letters +to the lady at the Carlton. And the epistle he dropped in the post +box at midnight follows here: + +DEAR LADY OF THE GRAPEFRUIT: You are very kind. Also, you are wise. +Wise, because into my clumsy little Personal you read nothing that +was not there. You knew it immediately for what it was--the timid +tentative clutch of a shy man at the skirts of Romance in passing. +Believe me, old Conservatism was with me when I wrote that message. +He was fighting hard. He followed me, struggling, shrieking, +protesting, to the post box itself. But I whipped him. Glory +be! I did for him. + +We are young but once, I told him. After that, what use to signal +to Romance? The lady at least, I said, will understand. He sneered +at that. He shook his silly gray head. I will admit he had me +worried. But now you have justified my faith in you. Thank you a +million times for that! + +Three weeks I have been in this huge, ungainly, indifferent city, +longing for the States. Three weeks the Agony Column has been my +sole diversion. And then--through the doorway of the Carlton +restaurant--you came-- + +It is of myself that I must write, I know. I will not, then, tell +you what is in my mind--the picture of you I carry. It would mean +little to you. Many Texan gallants, no doubt, have told you the +same while the moon was bright above you and the breeze was softly +whispering through the branches of--the branches of the--of the-- + +Confound it, I don't know! I have never been in Texas. It is a +vice in me I hope soon to correct. All day I intended to look up +Texas in the encyclopedia. But all day I have dwelt in the clouds. +And there are no reference books in the clouds. + +Now I am down to earth in my quiet study. Pens, ink and paper are +before me. I must prove myself a person worth knowing. + +From his rooms, they say, you can tell much about a man. But, alas! +these peaceful rooms in Adelphi Terrace--I shall not tell the +number--were sublet furnished. So if you could see me now you +would be judging me by the possessions left behind by one Anthony +Bartholomew. There is much dust on them. Judge neither Anthony +nor me by that. Judge rather Walters, the caretaker, who lives +in the basement with his gray-haired wife. Walters was a gardener +once, and his whole life is wrapped up in the courtyard on which +my balcony looks down. There he spends his time, while up above +the dust gathers in the corners-- + +Does this picture distress you, my lady? You should see the +courtyard! You would not blame Walters then. It is a sample of +Paradise left at our door--that courtyard. As English as a hedge, +as neat, as beautiful. London is a roar somewhere beyond; between +our court and the great city is a magic gate, forever closed. It +was the court that led me to take these rooms. + +And, since you are one who loves mystery, I am going to relate to +you the odd chain of circumstances that brought me here. + +For the first link in that chain we must go back to Interlaken. +Have you been there yet? A quiet little town, lying beautiful +between two shimmering lakes, with the great Jungfrau itself for +scenery. From the dining-room of one lucky hotel you may look up +at dinner and watch the old-rose afterglow light the snow-capped +mountain. You would not say then of strawberries: "I hate them." +Or of anything else in all the world. + +A month ago I was in Interlaken. One evening after dinner I strolled +along the main street, where all the hotels and shops are drawn up at +attention before the lovely mountain. In front of one of the shops +I saw a collection of walking sticks and, since I needed one for +climbing, I paused to look them over. I had been at this only a +moment when a young Englishman stepped up and also began examining +the sticks. + +I had made a selection from the lot and was turning away to +find the shopkeeper, when the Englishman spoke. He was lean, +distinguished-looking, though quite young, and had that well-tubbed +appearance which I am convinced is the great factor that has enabled +the English to assert their authority over colonies like Egypt and +India, where men are not so thoroughly bathed. + +"Er--if you'll pardon me, old chap," he said. "Not that stick--if +you don't mind my saying so. It's not tough enough for mountain +work. I would suggest--" + +To say that I was astonished is putting it mildly. If you know the +English at all, you know it is not their habit to address strangers, +even under the most pressing circumstances. Yet here was one of +that haughty race actually interfering in my selection of a stick. +I ended by buying the one he preferred, and he strolled along with +me in the direction of my hotel, chatting meantime in a fashion +far from British. + +We stopped at the Kursaal, where we listened to the music, had a +drink and threw away a few francs on the little horses. He came +with me to the veranda of my hotel. I was surprised, when he took +his leave, to find that he regarded me in the light of an old friend. +He said he would call on me the next morning. + +I made up my mind that Archibald Enwright--for that, he told me, +was his name--was an adventurer down on his luck, who chose to +forget his British exclusiveness under the stern necessity of getting +money somehow, somewhere. The next day, I decided, I should be the +victim of a touch. + +But my prediction failed; Enwright seemed to have plenty of money. +On that first evening I had mentioned to him that I expected shortly +to be in London, and he often referred to the fact. As the time +approached for me to leave Interlaken he began to throw out the +suggestion that he should like to have me meet some of his people +in England. This, also, was unheard of--against all precedent. + +Nevertheless, when I said good-by to him he pressed into my hand a +letter of introduction to his cousin, Captain Stephen Fraser-Freer, +of the Twelfth Cavalry, Indian Army, who, he said, would be glad +to make me at home in London, where he was on furlough at the time +--or would be when I reached there. + +"Stephen's a good sort," said Enwright. "He'll be jolly pleased to +show you the ropes. Give him my best, old boy!" + +Of course I took the letter. But I puzzled greatly over the affair. +What could be the meaning of this sudden warm attachment that Archie +had formed for me? Why should he want to pass me along to his +cousin at a time when that gentleman, back home after two years in +India, would be, no doubt, extremely busy? I made up my mind I +would not present the letter, despite the fact that Archie had +with great persistence wrung from me a promise to do so. I had met +many English gentlemen, and I felt they were not the sort--despite +the example of Archie--to take a wandering American to their bosoms +when he came with a mere letter. By easy stages I came on to London. +Here I met a friend, just sailing for home, who told me of some sad +experiences he had had with letters of introduction--of the cold, +fishy, "My-dear-fellow-why-trouble-me-with-it?" stares that had +greeted their presentation. Good-hearted men all, he said, but +averse to strangers; an ever-present trait in the English--always +excepting Archie. + +So I put the letter to Captain Fraser-Freer out of my mind. I had +business acquaintances here and a few English friends, and I found +these, as always, courteous and charming. But it is to my advantage +to meet as many people as may be, and after drifting about for a +week I set out one afternoon to call on my captain. I told myself +that here was an Englishman who had perhaps thawed a bit in the +great oven of India. If not, no harm would be done. + +It was then that I came for the first time to this house on Adelphi +Terrace, for it was the address Archie had given me. Walters let +me in, and I learned from him that Captain Fraser-Freer had not yet +arrived from India. His rooms were ready--he had kept them during +his absence, as seems to be the custom over here--and he was +expected soon. Perhaps--said Walters--his wife remembered the +date. He left me in the lower hall while he went to ask her. + +Waiting, I strolled to the rear of the hall. And then, through an +open window that let in the summer, I saw for the first time that +courtyard which is my great love in London--the old ivy-covered +walls of brick; the neat paths between the blooming beds; the +rustic seat; the magic gate. It was incredible that just outside +lay the world's biggest city, with all its poverty and wealth, its +sorrows and joys, its roar and rattle. Here was a garden for +Jane Austen to people with fine ladies and courtly gentlemen--here +was a garden to dream in, to adore and to cherish. + +When Walters came back to tell me that his wife was uncertain as to +the exact date when the captain would return, I began to rave about +that courtyard. At once he was my friend. I had been looking for +quiet lodgings away from the hotel, and I was delighted to find that +on the second floor, directly under the captain's rooms, there was +a suite to be sublet. + +Walters gave me the address of the agents; and, after submitting to +an examination that could not have been more severe if I had asked +for the hand of the senior partner's daughter, they let me come +here to live. The garden was mine! + +And the captain? Three days after I arrived I heard above me, for +the first time, the tread of his military boots. Now again my +courage began to fail. I should have preferred to leave Archie's +letter lying in my desk and know my neighbor only by his tread above +me. I felt that perhaps I had been presumptuous in coming to live +in the same house with him. But I had represented myself to Walters +as an acquaintance of the captain's and the caretaker had lost no +time in telling me that "my friend" was safely home. + +So one night, a week ago, I got up my nerve and went to the +captain's rooms. I knocked. He called to me to enter and I stood +in his study, facing him. He was a tall handsome man, fair-haired, +mustached--the very figure that you, my lady, in your +boarding-school days, would have wished him to be. His manner, I +am bound to admit, was not cordial. + +"Captain," I began, "I am very sorry to intrude--" It wasn't the +thing to say, of course, but I was fussed. "However, I happen to +be a neighbor of yours, and I have here a letter of introduction +from your cousin, Archibald Enwright. I met him in Interlaken and +we became very good friends." + +"Indeed!" said the captain. + +He held out his hand for the letter, as though it were evidence at +a court-martial. I passed it over, wishing I hadn't come. He read +it through. It was a long letter, considering its nature. While I +waited, standing by his desk--he hadn't asked me to sit down--I +looked about the room. It was much like my own study, only I think +a little dustier. Being on the third floor it was farther from the +garden, consequently Walters reached there seldom. + +The captain turned back and began to read the letter again. This +was decidedly embarrassing. Glancing down, I happened to see on +his desk an odd knife, which I fancy he had brought from India. +The blade was of steel, dangerously sharp, the hilt of gold, carved +to represent some heathen figure. + +Then the captain looked up from Archie's letter and his cold gaze +fell full upon me. + +"My dear fellow," he said, "to the best of my knowledge, I have no +cousin named Archibald Enwright." + +A pleasant situation, you must admit! It's bad enough when you come +to them with a letter from their mother, but here was I in this +Englishman's rooms, boldly flaunting in his face a warm note of +commendation from a cousin who did not exist! + +"I owe you an apology," I said. I tried to be as haughty as he, +and fell short by about two miles. "I brought the letter in +good faith." + +"No doubt of that," he answered. + +"Evidently it was given me by some adventurer for purposes of his +own," I went on; "though I am at a loss to guess what they could +have been." + +"I'm frightfully sorry--really," said he. But he said it with the +London inflection, which plainly implies: "I'm nothing of the sort." + +A painful pause. I felt that he ought to give me back the letter; +but he made no move to do so. And, of course, I didn't ask for it. + +"Ah--er--good night," said I and hurried toward the door. + +"Good night," he answered, and I left him standing there with +Archie's accursed letter in his hand. + +That is the story of how I came to this house in Adelphi Terrace. +There is mystery in it, you must admit, my lady. Once or twice +since that uncomfortable call I have passed the captain on the +stairs; but the halls are very dark, and for that I am grateful. +I hear him often above me; in fact, I hear him as I write this. + +Who was Archie? What was the idea? I wonder. + +Ah, well, I have my garden, and for that I am indebted to Archie +the garrulous. It is nearly midnight now. The roar of London has +died away to a fretful murmur, and somehow across this baking +town a breeze has found its way. It whispers over the green grass, +in the ivy that climbs my wall, in the soft murky folds of my +curtains. Whispers--what? + +Whispers, perhaps, the dreams that go with this, the first of my +letters to you. They are dreams that even I dare not whisper yet. + +And so--good night. + + THE STRAWBERRY MAN. + + + +CHAPTER III + +With a smile that betrayed unusual interest, the daughter of the +Texas statesman read that letter on Thursday morning in her room +at the Carlton. There was no question about it--the first epistle +from the strawberry-mad one had caught and held her attention. All +day, as she dragged her father through picture galleries, she found +herself looking forward to another morning, wondering, eager. + +But on the following morning Sadie Haight, the maid through whom +this odd correspondence was passing, had no letter to deliver. The +news rather disappointed the daughter of Texas. At noon she insisted +on returning to the hotel for luncheon, though, as her father pointed +out, they were far from the Carlton at the time. Her journey was +rewarded. Letter number two was waiting; and as she read she gasped. + +DEAR LADY AT THE CARLTON: I am writing this at three in the morning, +with London silent as the grave, beyond our garden. That I am so +late in getting to it is not because I did not think of you all day +yesterday; not because I did not sit down at my desk at seven last +evening to address you. Believe me, only the most startling, the +most appalling accident could have held me up. + +That most startling, most appalling accident has happened. + +I am tempted to give you the news at once in one striking and +terrible sentence. And I could write that sentence. A tragedy, +wrapped in mystery as impenetrable as a London fog, has befallen +our quiet little house in Adelphi Terrace. In their basement +room the Walters family, sleepless, overwhelmed, sit silent; on +the dark stairs outside my door I hear at intervals the tramp of +men on unhappy missions--But no; I must go back to the very start +of it all: + +Last night I had an early dinner at Simpson's, in the Strand--so +early that I was practically alone in the restaurant. The letter +I was about to write to you was uppermost in my mind and, having +quickly dined, I hurried back to my rooms. I remember clearly that, +as I stood in the street before our house fumbling for my keys, +Big Ben on the Parliament Buildings struck the hour of seven. +The chime of the great bell rang out in our peaceful thoroughfare +like a loud and friendly greeting. + +Gaining my study, I sat down at once to write. Over my head I +could hear Captain Fraser-Freer moving about--attiring himself, +probably, for dinner. I was thinking, with an amused smile, how +horrified he would be if he knew that the crude American below him +had dined at the impossible hour of six, when suddenly I heard, in +that room above me, some stranger talking in a harsh determined +tone. Then came the captain's answering voice, calmer, more +dignified. This conversation went along for some time, growing +each moment more excited. Though I could not distinguish a word of +it, I had the uncomfortable feeling that there was a controversy on; +and I remember feeling annoyed that any one should thus interfere +with my composition of your letter, which I regarded as most +important, you may be sure. + +At the end of five minutes of argument there came the heavy +thump-thump of men struggling above me. It recalled my college +days, when we used to hear the fellows in the room above us throwing +each other about in an excess of youth and high spirits. But this +seemed more grim, more determined, and I did not like it.--However, +I reflected that it was none of my business. I tried to think about +my letter. + +The struggle ended with a particularly heavy thud that shook our +ancient house to its foundations. I sat listening, somehow very +much depressed. There was no sound. It was not entirely dark +outside--the long twilight--and the frugal Walters had not lighted +the hall lamps. Somebody was coming down the stairs very quietly +--but their creaking betrayed him. I waited for him to pass +through the shaft of light that poured from the door open at my back. +At that moment Fate intervened in the shape of a breeze through my +windows, the door banged shut, and a heavy man rushed by me in the +darkness and ran down the stairs. I knew he was heavy, because the +passageway was narrow and he had to push me aside to get by. I +heard him swear beneath his breath. + +Quickly I went to a hall window at the far end that looked out on +the street. But the front door did not open; no one came out. I +was puzzled for a second then I reentered my room and hurried to my +balcony. I could make out the dim figure of a man running through +the garden at the rear--that garden of which I have so often spoken. +He did not try to open the gate; he climbed it, and so disappeared +from sight into the alley. + +For a moment I considered. These were odd actions, surely; but was +it my place to interfere? I remembered the cold stare in the eyes +of Captain Fraser-Freer when I presented that letter. I saw him +standing motionless in his murky study, as amiable as a statue. +Would he welcome an intrusion from me now? + +Finally I made up my mind to forget these things and went down to +find Walters. He and his wife were eating their dinner in the +basement. I told him what had happened. He said he had let no +visitor in to see the captain, and was inclined to view my +misgivings with a cold British eye. However, I persuaded him to +go with me to the captain's rooms. + +The captain's door was open. Remembering that in England the way +of the intruder is hard, I ordered Walters to go first. He stepped +into the room, where the gas flickered feebly in an aged chandelier. + +"My God, sir!" said Walters, a servant even now. + +And at last I write that sentence: Captain Fraser-Freer of the +Indian Army lay dead on the floor, a smile that was almost a sneer +on his handsome English face! + +The horror of it is strong with me now as I sit in the silent +morning in this room of mine which is so like the one in which the +captain died. He had been stabbed just over the heart, and my +first thought was of that odd Indian knife which I had seen lying +on his study table. I turned quickly to seek it, but it was gone. +And as I looked at the table it came to me that here in this dusty +room there must be finger prints--many finger prints. + +The room was quite in order, despite those sounds of struggle. One +or two odd matters met my eye. On the table stood a box from a +florist in Bond Street. The lid had been removed and I saw that +the box contained a number of white asters. Beside the box lay a +scarf-pin--an emerald scarab. And not far from the captain's body +lay what is known--owing to the German city where it is made--as +a Homburg hat. + +I recalled that it is most important at such times that nothing be +disturbed, and I turned to old Walters. His face was like this +paper on which I write; his knees trembled beneath him. + +"Walters," said I, "we must leave things just as they are until the +police arrive. Come with me while I notify Scotland Yard." + +"Very good, sir," said Walters. + +We went down then to the telephone in the lower hall, and I called +up the Yard. I was told that an inspector would come at once and +I went back to my room to wait for him. + +You can well imagine the feelings that were mine as I waited. +Before this mystery should be solved, I foresaw that I might be +involved to a degree that was unpleasant if not dangerous. Walters +would remember that I first came here as one acquainted with the +captain. He had noted, I felt sure, the lack of intimacy between +the captain and myself, once the former arrived from India. He +would no doubt testify that I had been most anxious to obtain +lodgings in the same house with Fraser-Freer. Then there was the +matter of my letter from Archie. I must keep that secret, I felt +sure. Lastly, there was not a living soul to back me up in my story +of the quarrel that preceded the captain's death, of the man who +escaped by way of the garden. + +Alas, thought I, even the most stupid policeman can not fail to look +upon me with the eye of suspicion! + +In about twenty minutes three men arrived from Scotland Yard. By +that time I had worked myself up into a state of absurd nervousness. +I heard Walters let them in; heard them climb the stairs and walk +about in the room overhead. In a short time Walters knocked at my +door and told me that Chief Inspector Bray desired to speak to me. +As I preceded the servant up the stairs I felt toward him as an +accused murderer must feel toward the witness who has it in his +power to swear his life away. + +He was a big active man--Bray; blond as are so many Englishmen. +His every move spoke efficiency. Trying to act as unconcerned as +an innocent man should--but failing miserably, I fear--I related +to him my story of the voices, the struggle, and the heavy man who +had got by me in the hall and later climbed our gate. He listened +without comment. At the end he said: + +"You were acquainted with the captain?" + +"Slightly," I told him. Archie's letter kept popping into my mind, +frightening me. "I had just met him--that is all; through a friend +of his--Archibald Enwright was the name." + +"Is Enwright in London to vouch for you?" + +"I'm afraid not. I last heard of him in Interlaken." + +"Yes? How did you happen to take rooms in this house?" + +"The first time I called to see the captain he had not yet arrived +from India. I was looking for lodgings and I took a great fancy to +the garden here." + +It sounded silly, put like that. I wasn't surprised that the +inspector eyed me with scorn. But I rather wished he hadn't. + +Bray began to walk about the room, ignoring me. + +"White asters; scarab pin; Homburg hat," he detailed, pausing before +the table where those strange exhibits lay. + +A constable came forward carrying newspapers in his hand. + +"What is it?" Bray asked. + +"The Daily Mail, sir," said the constable. "The issues of July +twenty-seventh, twenty-eighth, twenty-ninth and thirtieth." + +Bray took the papers in his hand, glanced at them and tossed them +contemptuously into a waste-basket. He turned to Walters. + +"Sorry, sir," said Walters; "but I was so taken aback! Nothing like +this has ever happened to me before. I'll go at once--" + +"No," replied Bray sharply. "Never mind. I'll attend to it--" + +There was a knock at the door. Bray called "Come!" and a slender +boy, frail but with a military bearing, entered. + +"Hello, Walters!" he said, smiling. "What's up? I-" + +He stopped suddenly as his eyes fell upon the divan where +Fraser-Freer lay. In an instant he was at the dead man's side. + +"Stephen!" he cried in anguish. + +"Who are you?" demanded the inspector--rather rudely, I thought. + +"It's the captain's brother, sir," put in Walters. "Lieutenant +Norman Fraser-Freer, of the Royal Fusiliers." + +There fell a silence. + +"A great calamity, sir--" began Walters to the boy. + +I have rarely seen any one so overcome as young Fraser-Freer. +Watching him, it seemed to me that the affection existing between +him and the man on the divan must have been a beautiful thing. He +turned away from his brother at last, and Walters sought to give +him some idea of what had happened. + +"You will pardon me, gentlemen," said the lieutenant. "This has +been a terrible shock! I didn't dream, of course--I just dropped +in for a word with--with him. And now--" + +We said nothing. We let him apologize, as a true Englishman must, +for his public display of emotion. + +"I'm sorry," Bray remarked in a moment, his eyes still shifting +about the room--"especially as England may soon have great need +of men like the captain. Now, gentlemen, I want to say this: I am +the Chief of the Special Branch at the Yard. This is no ordinary +murder. For reasons I can not disclose--and, I may add, for the +best interests of the empire--news of the captain's tragic death +must be kept for the present out of the newspapers. I mean, of +course, the manner of his going. A mere death notice, you +understand--the inference being that it was a natural taking off." + +"I understand," said the lieutenant, as one who knows more than he +tells. + +"Thank you," said Bray. "I shall leave you to attend to the matter, +as far as your family is concerned. You will take charge of the +body. As for the rest of you, I forbid you to mention this matter +outside." + +And now Bray stood looking, with a puzzled air, at me. + +"You are an American?" he said, and I judged he did not care for +Americans. + +"I am," I told him. + +"Know any one at your consulate?" he demanded. + +Thank heaven, I did! There is an under-secretary there named +Watson--I went to college with him. I mentioned him to Bray. + +"Very good," said the inspector. "You are free to go. But you +must understand that you are an important witness in this case, and +if you attempt to leave London you will be locked up." + +So I came back to my rooms, horribly entangled in a mystery that is +little to my liking. I have been sitting here in my study for some +time, going over it again and again. There have been many footsteps +on the stairs, many voices in the hall. + +Waiting here for the dawn, I have come to be very sorry for the +cold handsome captain. After all, he was a man; his very tread on +the floor above, which it shall never hear again, told me that. + +What does it all mean? Who was the man in the hall, the man who +had argued so loudly, who had struck so surely with that queer +Indian knife? Where is the knife now? + +And, above all, what do the white asters signify? And the scarab +scarf-pin? And that absurd Homburg hat? + +Lady of the Carlton, you wanted mystery. When I wrote that first +letter to you, little did I dream that I should soon have it to +give you in overwhelming measure. + +And--believe me when I say it--through all this your face has +been constantly before me--your face as I saw it that bright +morning in the hotel breakfast room. You have forgiven me, I know, +for the manner in which I addressed you. I had seen your eyes and +the temptation was great--very great. + +It is dawn in the garden now and London is beginning to stir. So +this time it is--good morning, my lady. + + THE STRAWBERRY MAN. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +It is hardly necessary to intimate that this letter came as +something of a shock to the young woman who received it. For the +rest of that day the many sights of London held little interest for +her--so little, indeed, that her perspiring father began to see +visions of his beloved Texas; and once hopefully suggested an early +return home. The coolness with which this idea was received plainly +showed him that he was on the wrong track; so he sighed and sought +solace at the bar. + +That night the two from Texas attended His Majesty's Theater, where +Bernard Shaw's latest play was being performed; and the witty +Irishman would have been annoyed to see the scant attention one +lovely young American in the audience gave his lines. The American +in question retired at midnight, with eager thoughts turned toward +the morning. + +And she was not disappointed. When her maid, a stolid Englishwoman, +appeared at her bedside early Saturday she carried a letter, which +she handed over, with the turned-up nose of one who aids but does +not approve. Quickly the girl tore it open. + +DEAR Texas LADY: I am writing this late in the afternoon. The sun +is casting long black shadows on the garden lawn, and the whole +world is so bright and matter-of-fact I have to argue with myself +to be convinced that the events of that tragic night through which +I passed really happened. + +The newspapers this morning helped to make it all seem a dream; not +a line--not a word, that I can find. When I think of America, and +how by this time the reporters would be swarming through our house +if this thing had happened over there, I am the more astonished. +But then, I know these English papers. The great Joe Chamberlain +died the other night at ten, and it was noon the next day when the +first paper to carry the story appeared--screaming loudly that it +had scored a beat. It had. Other lands, other methods. + +It was probably not difficult for Bray to keep journalists such as +these in the dark. So their great ungainly sheets come out in total +ignorance of a remarkable story in Adelphi Terrace. Famished for +real news, they begin to hint at a huge war cloud on the horizon. +Because tottering Austria has declared war on tiny Serbia, because +the Kaiser is to-day hurrying, with his best dramatic effect, home +to Berlin, they see all Europe shortly bathed in blood. A nightmare +born of torrid days and tossing nights! + +But it is of the affair in Adelphi Terrace that you no doubt want +to hear. One sequel of the tragedy, which adds immeasurably to the +mystery of it all, has occurred, and I alone am responsible for its +discovery. But to go back: + +I returned from mailing your letter at dawn this morning, very +tired from the tension of the night. I went to bed, but could not +sleep. More and more it was preying on my mind that I was in a most +unhappy position. I had not liked the looks cast at me by Inspector +Bray, or his voice when he asked how I came to live in this house. +I told myself I should not be safe until the real murderer of the +poor captain was found; and so I began to puzzle over the few clues +in the case--especially over the asters, the scarab pin and the +Homburg hat. + +It was then I remembered the four copies of the Daily Mail that +Bray had casually thrown into the waste-basket as of no interest. +I had glanced over his shoulder as he examined these papers, and +had seen that each of them was folded so that our favorite department +--the Agony Column--was uppermost. It happened I had in my desk +copies of the Mail for the past week. You will understand why. + +I rose, found those papers, and began to read. It was then that +I made the astounding discovery to which I have alluded. + +For a time after making it I was dumb with amazement, so that no +course of action came readily to mind. In the end I decided that +the thing for me to do was to wait for Bray's return in the morning +and then point out to him the error he had made in ignoring the Mail. + +Bray came in about eight o'clock and a few minutes later I heard +another man ascend the stairs. I was shaving at the time, but I +quickly completed the operation and, slipping on a bathrobe, hurried +up to the captain's rooms. The younger brother had seen to the +removal of the unfortunate man's body in the night, and, aside from +Bray and the stranger who had arrived almost simultaneously with +him, there was no one but a sleepy-eyed constable there. + +Bray's greeting was decidedly grouchy. The stranger, however--a +tall bronzed man--made himself known to me in the most cordial +manner. He told me he was Colonel Hughes, a close friend of the +dead man; and that, unutterably shocked and grieved, he had come to +inquire whether there was anything he might do. "Inspector," said +I, "last night in this room you held in your hand four copies of +the Daily Mail. You tossed them into that basket as of no account. +May I suggest that you rescue those copies, as I have a rather +startling matter to make clear to you?" Too grand an official to +stoop to a waste-basket, he nodded to the constable. The latter +brought the papers; and, selecting one from the lot, I spread it +out on the table. "The issue of July twenty-seventh," I said. + +I pointed to an item half-way down the column of Personal Notices. +You yourself, my lady, may read it there if you happen to have saved +a copy. It ran as follows: + +"RANGOON: The asters are in full bloom in the garden at Canterbury. +They are very beautiful--especially the white ones." + +Bray grunted, and opened his little eyes. I took up the issue of +the following day--the twenty-eighth: + +"RANGOON: We have been forced to sell father's stick-pin--the +emerald scarab he brought home from Cairo." + +I had Bray's interest now. He leaned heavily toward me, puffing. +Greatly excited, I held before his eyes the issue of the +twenty-ninth: + +"RANGOON: Homburg hat gone forever--caught by a breeze--into the +river." + +"And finally," said I to the inspector, "the last message of all, +in the issue of the thirtieth of July--on sale in the streets +some twelve hours before Fraser-Freer was murdered. See!" + +"RANGOON: To-night at ten. Regent Street. --Y.O.G." + +Bray was silent. + +"I take it you are aware, Inspector," I said, "that for the past +two years Captain Fraser-Freer was stationed at Rangoon." + +Still he said nothing; just looked at me with those foxy little +eyes that I was coming to detest. At last he spoke sharply: + +"Just how," he demanded, "did you happen to discover those messages? +You were not in this room last night after I left?" He turned +angrily to the constable. "I gave orders--" + +"No," I put in; "I was not in this room. I happened to have on +file in my rooms copies of the Mail, and by the merest chance--" + +I saw that I had blundered. Undoubtedly my discovery of those +messages was too pat. Once again suspicion looked my way. + +"Thank you very much," said Bray. "I'll keep this in mind." + +"Have you communicated with my friend at the consulate?" I asked. + +"Yes. That's all. Good morning." + +So I went. + +I had been back in my room some twenty minutes when there came a +knock on the door, and Colonel Hughes entered. He was a genial man, +in the early forties I should say, tanned by some sun not English, +and gray at the temples. + +"My dear sir," he said without preamble, "this is a most appalling +business!" + +"Decidedly," I answered. "Will you sit down?" + +"Thank you." He sat and gazed frankly into my eyes. "Policemen," +he added meaningly, "are a most suspicious tribe--often without +reason. I am sorry you happen to be involved in this affair, for +I may say that I fancy you to be exactly what you seem. May I add +that, if you should ever need a friend, I am at your service?" + +I was touched; I thanked him as best I could. His tone was so +sympathetic and before I realized it I was telling him the whole +story--of Archie and his letter; of my falling in love with a +garden; of the startling discovery that the captain had never heard +of his cousin; and of my subsequent unpleasant position. He leaned +back in his chair and closed his eyes. + +"I suppose," he said, "that no man ever carries an unsealed letter +of introduction without opening it to read just what praises have +been lavished upon him. It is human nature--I have done it often. +May I make so bold as to inquire--" + +"Yes," said I. "It was unsealed and I did read it. Considering +its purpose, it struck me as rather long. There were many warm +words for me--words beyond all reason in view of my brief +acquaintance with Enwright. I also recall that he mentioned how +long he had been in Interlaken, and that he said he expected to +reach London about the first of August." + +"The first of August," repeated the colonel. "That is to-morrow. +Now--if you'll be so kind--just what happened last night?" + +Again I ran over the events of that tragic evening--the quarrel; +the heavy figure in the hall; the escape by way of the seldom-used +gate. + +"My boy," said Colonel Hughes as he rose to go, "the threads of this +tragedy stretch far--some of them to India; some to a country I +will not name. I may say frankly that I have other and greater +interest in the matter than that of the captain's friend. For the +present that is in strict confidence between us; the police are +well-meaning, but they sometimes blunder. Did I understand you to +say that you have copies of the Mail containing those odd messages?" + +"Right here in my desk," said I. I got them for him. + +"I think I shall take them--if I may," he said. "You will, of +course, not mention this little visit of mine. We shall meet again. +Good morning." + +And he went away, carrying those papers with their strange signals +to Rangoon. + +Somehow I feel wonderfully cheered by his call. For the first time +since seven last evening I begin to breathe freely again. + +And so, lady who likes mystery, the matter stands on the afternoon +of the last day of July, nineteen hundred and fourteen. + +I shall mail you this letter to-night. It is my third to you, and +it carries with it three times the dreams that went with the first; +for they are dreams that live not only at night, when the moon is +on the courtyard, but also in the bright light of day. + +Yes--I am remarkably cheered. I realize that I have not eaten at +all--save a cup of coffee from the trembling hand of Walters +--since last night, at Simpson's. I am going now to dine. I shall +begin with grapefruit. I realize that I am suddenly very fond of +grapefruit. + +How bromidic to note it--we have many tastes in common! + + EX-STRAWBERRY MAN. + +The third letter from her correspondent of the Agony Column +increased in the mind of the lovely young woman at the Carlton the +excitement and tension the second had created. For a long time, on +the Saturday morning of its receipt, she sat in her room puzzling +over the mystery of the house in Adelphi Terrace. When first she +had heard that Captain Fraser-Freer, of the Indian Army, was dead +of a knife wound over the heart, the news had shocked her like that +of the loss of some old and dear friend. She had desired +passionately the apprehension of his murderer, and had turned over +and over in her mind the possibilities of white asters, a scarab +pin and a Homburg hat. + +Perhaps the girl longed for the arrest of the guilty man thus keenly +because this jaunty young friend of hers--a friend whose name she +did not know--to whom, indeed, she had never spoken--was so +dangerously entangled in the affair. For from what she knew of +Geoffrey West, from her casual glance in the restaurant and, far +more, from his letters, she liked him extremely. + +And now came his third letter, in which he related the connection +of that hat, that pin and those asters with the column in the Mail +which had first brought them together. As it happened, she, too, +had copies of the paper for the first four days of the week. She +went to her sitting-room, unearthed these copies, and--gasped! +For from the column in Monday's paper stared up at her the cryptic +words to Rangoon concerning asters in a garden at Canterbury. In +the other three issues as well, she found the identical messages +her strawberry man had quoted. She sat for a moment in deep thought; +sat, in fact, until at her door came the enraged knocking of a +hungry parent who had been waiting a full hour in the lobby below +for her to join him at breakfast. + +"Come, come!" boomed her father, entering at her invitation. "Don't +sit here all day mooning. I'm hungry if you're not." + +With quick apologies she made ready to accompany him down-stairs. +Firmly, as she planned their campaign for the day, she resolved to +put from her mind all thought of Adelphi Terrace. How well she +succeeded may be judged from a speech made by her father that night +just before dinner: + +"Have you lost your tongue, Marian? You're as uncommunicative as a +newly-elected office-holder. If you can't get a little more life +into these expeditions of ours we'll pack up and head for home." + +She smiled, patted his shoulder and promised to improve. But he +appeared to be in a gloomy mood. + +"I believe we ought to go, anyhow," he went on. "In my opinion this +war is going to spread like a prairie fire. The Kaiser got back to +Berlin yesterday. He'll sign the mobilization orders to-day as sure +as fate. For the past week, on the Berlin Bourse, Canadian Pacific +stock has been dropping. That means they expect England to come in." + +He gazed darkly into the future. It may seem that, for an American +statesman, he had an unusual grasp of European politics. This is +easily explained by the fact that he had been talking with the +bootblack at the Carlton Hotel. + +"Yes," he said with sudden decision, "I'll go down to the steamship +offices early Monday morning." + + + +CHAPTER V + +His daughter heard these words with a sinking heart. She had a +most unhappy picture of herself boarding a ship and sailing out of +Liverpool or Southampton, leaving the mystery that so engrossed her +thoughts forever unsolved. Wisely she diverted her father's +thoughts toward the question of food. She had heard, she said, +that Simpson's, in the Strand, was an excellent place to dine. They +would go there, and walk. She suggested a short detour that would +carry them through Adelphi Terrace. It seemed she had always wanted +to see Adelphi Terrace. + +As they passed through that silent Street she sought to guess, from +an inspection of the grim forbidding house fronts, back of which +lay the lovely garden, the romantic mystery. But the houses were so +very much like one another. Before one of them, she noted, a taxi +waited. + +After dinner her father pleaded for a music-hall as against what he +called "some highfaluting, teacup English play." He won. Late that +night, as they rode back to the Carlton, special editions were being +proclaimed in the streets. Germany was mobilizing! + +The girl from Texas retired, wondering what epistolary surprise the +morning would bring forth. It brought forth this: + +DEAR DAUGHTER OF THE SENATE: Or is it Congress? I could not quite +decide. But surely in one or the other of those August bodies your +father sits when he is not at home in Texas or viewing Europe +through his daughter's eyes. One look at him and I had gathered +that. + +But Washington is far from London, isn't it? And it is London that +interests us most--though father's constituents must not know that. +It is really a wonderful, an astounding city, once you have got the +feel of the tourist out of your soul. I have been reading the most +enthralling essays on it, written by a newspaper man who first fell +desperately in love with it at seven--an age when the whole +glittering town was symbolized for him by the fried-fish shop at the +corner of the High Street. With him I have been going through its +gray and furtive thoroughfares in the dead of night, and sometimes +we have kicked an ash-barrel and sometimes a romance. Some day I +might show that London to you--guarding you, of course, from the +ash-barrels, if you are that kind. On second thoughts, you aren't. +But I know that it is of Adelphi Terrace and a late captain in the +Indian Army that you want to hear now. Yesterday, after my +discovery of those messages in the Mail and the call of Captain +Hughes, passed without incident. Last night I mailed you my third +letter, and after wandering for a time amid the alternate glare and +gloom of the city, I went back to my rooms and smoked on my balcony +while about me the inmates of six million homes sweltered in the heat. +Nothing happened. I felt a bit disappointed, a bit cheated, as one +might feel on the first night spent at home after many successive +visits to exciting plays. To-day, the first of August dawned, and +still all was quiet. Indeed, it was not until this evening that +further developments in the sudden death of Captain Fraser-Freer +arrived to disturb me. These developments are strange ones surely, +and I shall hasten to relate them. + +I dined to-night at a little place in Soho. My waiter was Italian, +and on him I amused myself with the Italian in Ten Lessons of which +I am foolishly proud. We talked of Fiesole, where he had lived. +Once I rode from Fiesole down the hill to Florence in the moonlight. +I remember endless walls on which hung roses, fresh and blooming. +I remember a gaunt nunnery and two-gray-robed sisters clanging shut +the gates. I remember the searchlight from the military encampment, +playing constantly over the Arno and the roofs--the eye of Mars +that, here in Europe, never closes. And always the flowers nodding +above me, stooping now and then to brush my face. I came to think +that at the end Paradise, and not a second-rate hotel, was waiting. +One may still take that ride, I fancy. Some day--some day-- + +I dined in Soho. I came back to Adelphi Terrace in the hot, reeking +August dusk, reflecting that the mystery in which I was involved was, +after a fashion, standing still. In front of our house I noticed a +taxi waiting. I thought nothing of it as I entered the murky +hallway and climbed the familiar stairs. + +My door stood open. It was dark in my study, save for the reflection +of the lights of London outside. As I crossed the threshold there +came to my nostrils the faint sweet perfume of lilacs. There are no +lilacs in our garden, and if there were it is not the season. No, +this perfume had been brought there by a woman--a woman who sat at +my desk and raised her head as I entered. + +"You will pardon this intrusion," she said in the correct careful +English of one who has learned the speech from a book. "I have come +for a brief word with you--then I shall go." + +I could think of nothing to say. I stood gaping like a schoolboy. + +"My word," the woman went on, "is in the nature of advice. We do +not always like those who give us advice. None the less, I trust +that you will listen." + +I found my tongue then. + +"I am listening," I said stupidly. "But first--a light--" And I +moved toward the matches on the mantelpiece. + +Quickly the woman rose and faced me. I saw then that she wore a +veil--not a heavy veil, but a fluffy, attractive thing that was +yet sufficient to screen her features from me. + +"I beg of you," she cried, "no light!" And as I paused, undecided, +she added, in a tone which suggested lips that pout: "It is such a +little thing to ask--surely you will not refuse." + +I suppose I should have insisted. But her voice was charming, her +manner perfect, and that odor of lilacs reminiscent of a garden I +knew long ago, at home. + +"Very well," said I. + +"Oh--I am grateful to you," she answered. Her tone changed. "I +understand that, shortly after seven o'clock last Thursday evening, +you heard in the room above you the sounds of a struggle. Such +has been your testimony to the police?" + +"It has," said I. + +"Are you quite certain as to the hour?" I felt that she was smiling +at me. "Might it not have been later--or earlier?" + +"I am sure it was just after seven," I replied. "I'll tell you why: +I had just returned from dinner and while I was unlocking the door +Big Ben on the House of Parliament struck--" + +She raised her hand. + +"No matter," she said, and there was a touch of iron in her voice. +"You are no longer sure of that. Thinking it over, you have come +to the conclusion that it may have been barely six-thirty when you +heard the noise of a struggle." + +"Indeed?" said I. I tried to sound sarcastic, but I was really +too astonished by her tone. + +"Yes--indeed!" she replied. "That is what you will tell Inspector +Bray when next you see him. 'It may have been six-thirty,' you +will tell him. 'I have thought it over and I am not certain.'" + +"Even for a very charming lady," I said "I can not misrepresent the +facts in a matter so important. It was after seven--" + +"I am not asking you to do a favor for a lady," she replied. "I +am asking you to do a favor for yourself. If you refuse the +consequences may be most unpleasant." + +"I'm rather at a loss--" I began. + +She was silent for a moment. Then she turned and I felt her +looking at me through the veil. + +"Who was Archibald Enwright?" she demanded. My heart sank. I +recognized the weapon in her hands. "The police," she went on, +"do not yet know that the letter of introduction you brought to +the captain was signed by a man who addressed Fraser-Freer as +Dear Cousin, but who is completely unknown to the family. Once +that information reaches Scotland Yard, your chance of escaping +arrest is slim. + +"They may not be able to fasten this crime upon you, but there will +be complications most distasteful. One's liberty is well worth +keeping--and then, too, before the case ends, there will be wide +publicity--" + +"'Well?" said I. + +"That is why you are going to suffer a lapse of memory in the +matter of the hour at which you heard that struggle. As you think +it over, it is going to occur to you that it may have been +six-thirty, not seven. Otherwise--" + +"Go on." + +"Otherwise the letter of introduction you gave to the captain will +be sent anonymously to Inspector Bray." + +"You have that letter!" I cried. + +"Not I," she answered. "But it will be sent to Bray. It will be +pointed out to him that you were posing under false colors. You +could not escape!" + +I was most uncomfortable. The net of suspicion seemed closing in +about me. But I was resentful, too, of the confidence in this +woman's voice. + +"None the less," said I, "I refuse to change my testimony. The +truth is the truth--" + +The woman had moved to the door. She turned. + +"To-morrow," she replied, "it is not unlikely you will see Inspector +Bray. As I said, I came here to give you advice. You had better +take it. What does it matter--a half-hour this way or that? And +the difference is prison for you. Good night." + +She was gone. I followed into the hall. Below, in the street, I +heard the rattle of her taxi. + +I went back into my room and sat down. I was upset, and no mistake. +Outside my windows the continuous symphony of the city played on +--the busses, the trains, the never-silent voices. I gazed out. +What a tremendous acreage of dank brick houses and dank British +souls! I felt horribly alone. I may add that I felt a bit +frightened, as though that great city were slowly closing in on me. + +Who was this woman of mystery? What place had she held in the life +--and perhaps in the death--of Captain Fraser-Freer? Why should +she come boldly to my rooms to make her impossible demand? + +I resolved that, even at the risk of my own comfort, I would stick +to the truth. And to that resolve I would have clung had I not +shortly received another visit--this one far more inexplicable, +far more surprising, than the first. + +It was about nine o'clock when Walters tapped at my door and told +me two gentlemen wished to see me. A moment later into my study +walked Lieutenant Norman Fraser-Freer and a fine old gentleman with +a face that suggested some faded portrait hanging on an aristocrat's +wall. I had never seen him before. + +"I hope it is quite convenient for you to see us," said young +Fraser-Freer. + +I assured him that it was. The boy's face was drawn and haggard; +there was terrible suffering in his eyes, yet about him hung, like +a halo, the glory of a great resolution. + +"May I present my father?" he said. "General Fraser-Freer, retired. +We have come on a matter of supreme importance--" + +The old man muttered something I could not catch. I could see that +he had been hard hit by the loss of his elder son. I asked them +to be seated; the general complied, but the boy walked the floor in +a manner most distressing. + +"I shall not be long," he remarked. "Nor at a time like this is +one in the mood to be diplomatic. I will only say, sir, that we +have come to ask of you a great--a very great favor indeed. You +may not see fit to grant it. If that is the case we can not well +reproach you. But if you can--" + +"It is a great favor, sir!" broke in the general. "And I am in the +odd position where I do not know whether you will serve me best by +granting it or by refusing to do so." + +"Father--please--if you don't mind--" The boy's voice was +kindly but determined. He turned to me. + +"Sir--you have testified to the police that it was a bit past +seven when you heard in the room above the sounds of the struggle +which--which--You understand." + +In view of the mission of the caller who had departed a scant hour +previously, the boy's question startled me. + +"Such was my testimony," I answered. "It was the truth." + +"Naturally," said Lieutenant Fraser-Freer. "But--er--as a matter +of fact, we are here to ask that you alter your testimony. Could +you, as a favor to us who have suffered so cruel a loss--a favor +we should never forget--could you not make the hour of that +struggle half after six?" + +I was quite overwhelmed. + +"Your--reasons?" I managed at last to ask. + +"I am not able to give them to you in full," the boy answered. "I +can only say this: It happens that at seven o'clock last Thursday +night I was dining with friends at the Savoy--friends who would +not be likely to forget the occasion." + +The old general leaped to his feet. + +"Norman," he cried, "I can not let you do this thing! I simply +will not--" + +"Hush, father," said the boy wearily. "We have threshed it all +out. You have promised--" + +The old man sank back into the chair and buried his face in his +hands. + +"If you are willing to change your testimony," young Fraser-Freer +went on to me, "I shall at once confess to the police that it was I +who--who murdered my brother. They suspect me. They know that +late last Thursday afternoon I purchased a revolver, for which, they +believe, at the last moment I substituted the knife. They know that +I was in debt to him; that we had quarreled about money matters; that +by his death I, and I alone, could profit." + +He broke off suddenly and came toward me, holding out his arms with +a pleading gesture I can never forget. + +"Do this for me!" he cried. "Let me confess! Let me end this whole +horrible business here and now." + +Surely no man had ever to answer such an appeal before. + +"Why?" I found myself saying, and over and over I repeated it--"Why? +Why?" + +The lieutenant faced me, and I hope never again to see such a look +in a man's eyes. + +"I loved him!" he cried. "That is why. For his honor, for the +honor of our family, I am making this request of you. Believe me, +it is not easy. I can tell you no more than that. You knew my +brother?" + +"Slightly." + +"Then, for his sake--do this thing I ask." + +"But--murder--" + +"You heard the sounds of a struggle. I shall say that we quarreled +--that I struck in self-defense." He turned to his father. "It +will mean only a few years in prison--I can bear that!" he cried. +"For the honor of our name!" + +The old man groaned, but did not raise his head. The boy walked +back and forth over my faded carpet like a lion caged. I stood +wondering what answer I should make. + +"I know what you are thinking," said the lieutenant. "You can not +credit your ears. But you have heard correctly. And now--as you +might put it--it is up to you. I have been in your country." He +smiled pitifully. "I think I know you Americans. You are not the +sort to refuse a man when he is sore beset--as I am." + +I looked from him to the general and back again. + +"I must think this over," I answered, my mind going at once to +Colonel Hughes. "Later--say to-morrow--you shall have my decision." + +"To-morrow," said the boy, "we shall both be called before Inspector +Bray. I shall know your answer then--and I hope with all my heart +it will be yes." + +There were a few mumbled words of farewell and he and the broken +old man went out. As soon as the street door closed behind them I +hurried to the telephone and called a number Colonel Hughes had +given me. It was with a feeling of relief that I heard his voice +come back over the wire. I told him I must see him at once. He +replied that by a singular chance he had been on the point of +starting for my rooms. + +In the half-hour that elapsed before the coming of the colonel I +walked about like a man in a trance. He was barely inside my door +when I began pouring out to him the story of those two remarkable +visits. He made little comment on the woman's call beyond asking +me whether I could describe her; and he smiled when I mentioned +lilac perfume. At mention of young Fraser-Freer's preposterous +request he whistled. + +"By gad!" he said. "Interesting--most interesting! I am not +surprised, however. That boy has the stuff in him." + +"But what shall I do?" I demanded. + +Colonel Hughes smiled. + +"It makes little difference what you do," he said. "Norman +Fraser-Freer did not kill his brother, and that will be proved in +due time." He considered for a moment. "Bray no doubt would be +glad to have you alter your testimony, since he is trying to fasten +the crime on the young lieutenant. On the whole, if I were you, I +think that when the opportunity comes to-morrow I should humor the +inspector." + +"You mean--tell him I am no longer certain as to the hour of that +struggle?" + +"Precisely. I give you my word that young Fraser-Freer will not be +permanently incriminated by such an act on your part. And +incidentally you will be aiding me." + +"Very well," said I. "But I don't understand this at all." + +"No--of course not. I wish I could explain to you; but I can not. +I will say this--the death of Captain Fraser-Freer is regarded as +a most significant thing by the War Office. Thus it happens that +two distinct hunts for his assassin are under way--one conducted +by Bray, the other by me. Bray does not suspect that I am working +on the case and I want to keep him in the dark as long as possible. +You may choose which of these investigations you wish to be +identified with." + +"I think," said I, "that I prefer you to Bray." + +"Good boy!" he answered. "You have not gone wrong. And you can do +me a service this evening, which is why I was on the point of coming +here, even before you telephoned me. I take it that you remember +and could identify the chap who called himself Archibald Enwright +--the man who gave you that letter to the captain?" + +"I surely could," said I. + +"Then, if you can spare me an hour, get your hat." + +And so it happens, lady of the Carlton, that I have just been to +Limehouse. You do not know where Limehouse is and I trust you never +will. It is picturesque; it is revolting; it is colorful and wicked. +The weird odors of it still fill my nostrils; the sinister portrait +of it is still before my eyes. It is the Chinatown of London +--Limehouse. Down in the dregs of the town--with West India Dock +Road for its spinal column--it lies, redolent of ways that are dark +and tricks that are vain. Not only the heathen Chinee so peculiar +shuffles through its dim-lit alleys, but the scum of the earth, of +many colors and of many climes. The Arab and the Hindu, the Malayan +and the Jap, black men from the Congo and fair men from Scandinavia +--these you may meet there--the outpourings of all the ships that +sail the Seven Seas. There many drunken beasts, with their pay in +their pockets, seek each his favorite sin; and for those who love +most the opium, there is, at all too regular intervals, the Sign of +the Open Lamp. + +We went there, Colonel Hughes and I. Up and down the narrow +Causeway, yellow at intervals with the light from gloomy shops, +dark mostly because of tightly closed shutters through which only +thin jets found their way, we walked until we came and stood at +last in shadow outside the black doorway of Harry San Li's so-called +restaurant. We waited ten, fifteen minutes; then a man came down +the Causeway and paused before that door. There was something +familiar in his jaunty walk. Then the faint glow of the lamp that +was the indication of Harry San's real business lit his pale face, +and I knew that I had seen him last in the cool evening at +Interlaken, where Limehouse could not have lived a moment, with the +Jungfrau frowning down upon it. + +"Enwright?" whispered Hughes. + +"Not a doubt of it!" said I. + +"Good!" he replied with fervor. + +And now another man shuffled down the street and stood suddenly +straight and waiting before the colonel. + +"Stay with him," said Hughes softly. "Don't let him get out of +your sight." + +"Very good, sir," said the man; and, saluting, he passed on up the +stairs and whistled softly at that black depressing door. + +The clock above the Millwall Docks was striking eleven as the +colonel and I caught a bus that should carry us back to a brighter, +happier London. Hughes spoke but seldom on that ride; and, repeating +his advice that I humor Inspector Bray on the morrow, he left me in +the Strand. + +So, my lady, here I sit in my study, waiting for that most important +day that is shortly to dawn. A full evening, you must admit. A +woman with the perfume of lilacs about her has threatened that unless +I lie I shall encounter consequences most unpleasant. A handsome +young lieutenant has begged me to tell that same lie for the honor +of his family, and thus condemn him to certain arrest and +imprisonment. And I have been down into hell, to-night and seen +Archibald Enwright, of Interlaken, conniving with the devil. + +I presume I should go to bed; but I know I can not sleep. To-morrow +is to be, beyond all question, a red-letter day in the matter of +the captain's murder. And once again, against my will, I am +down to play a leading part. + +The symphony of this great, gray, sad city is a mere hum in the +distance now, for it is nearly midnight. I shall mail this letter +to you--post it, I should say, since I am in London--and then I +shall wait in my dim rooms for the dawn. And as I wait I shall be +thinking not always of the captain, or his brother, or Hughes, or +Limehouse and Enwright, but often--oh, very often--of you. + +In my last letter I scoffed at the idea of a great war. But when +we came back from Limehouse to-night the papers told us that the +Kaiser had signed the order to mobilize. Austria in; Serbia in; +Germany, Russia and France in. Hughes tells me that England is +shortly to follow, and I suppose there is no doubt of it. It is a +frightful thing--this future that looms before us; and I pray that +for you at least it may hold only happiness. + +For, my lady, when I write good night, I speak it aloud as I write; +and there is in my voice more than I dare tell you of now. + + THE AGONY COLUMN MAN. + +Not unwelcome to the violet eyes of the girl from Texas were the +last words of this letter, read in her room that Sunday morning. +But the lines predicting England's early entrance into the war +recalled to her mind a most undesirable contingency. On the previous +night, when the war extras came out confirming the forecast of his +favorite bootblack, her usually calm father had shown signs of panic. +He was not a man slow to act. And she knew that, putty though he +was in her hands in matters which he did not regard as important, +he could also be firm where he thought firmness necessary. America +looked even better to him than usual, and he had made up his mind +to go there immediately. There was no use in arguing with him. + +At this point came a knock at her door and her father entered. One +look at his face--red, perspiring and decidedly unhappy--served +to cheer his daughter. + +"Been down to the steamship offices," he panted, mopping his bald +head. "They're open to-day, just like it was a week day--but they +might as well be closed. There's nothing doing. Every boat's +booked up to the rails; we can't get out of here for two weeks +--maybe more." + +"I'm sorry," said his daughter. + +"No, you ain't! You're delighted! You think it's romantic to get +caught like this. Wish I had the enthusiasm of youth." He fanned +himself with a newspaper. "Lucky I went over to the express office +yesterday and loaded up on gold. I reckon when the blow falls it'll +be tolerable hard to cash checks in this man's town." + +"That was a good idea." + +"Ready for breakfast?" he inquired. + +"Quite ready," she smiled. + +They went below, she humming a song from a revue, while he glared +at her. She was very glad they were to be in London a little longer. +She felt she could not go, with that mystery still unsolved. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +The last peace Sunday London was to know in many weary months went +by, a tense and anxious day. Early on Monday the fifth letter from +the young man of the Agony Column arrived, and when the girl from +Texas read it she knew that under no circumstances could she leave +London now. + +It ran: + +DEAR LADY FROM HOME: I call you that because the word home has for +me, this hot afternoon in London, about the sweetest sound word +ever had. I can see, when I close my eyes, Broadway at midday; +Fifth Avenue, gay and colorful, even with all the best people away; +Washington Square, cool under the trees, lovely and desirable +despite the presence everywhere of alien neighbors from the district +to the South. I long for home with an ardent longing; never was +London so cruel, so hopeless, so drab, in my eyes. For, as I write +this, a constable sits at my elbow, and he and I are shortly to +start for Scotland Yard. I have been arrested as a suspect in the +case of Captain Fraser-Freer's murder! + +I predicted last night that this was to be a red-letter day in the +history of that case, and I also saw myself an unwilling actor in +the drama. But little did I suspect the series of astonishing +events that was to come with the morning; little did I dream that +the net I have been dreading would to-day engulf me. I can scarcely +blame Inspector Bray for holding me; what I can not understand is +why Colonel Hughes-- + +But you want, of course, the whole story from the beginning; and I +shall give it to you. At eleven o'clock this morning a constable +called on me at my rooms and informed me that I was wanted at once +by the Chief Inspector at the Yard. + +We climbed--the constable and I--a narrow stone stairway somewhere +at the back of New Scotland Yard, and so came to the inspector's +room. Bray was waiting for us, smiling and confident. I remember +--silly as the detail is--that he wore in his buttonhole a white +rose. His manner of greeting me was more genial than usual. He +began by informing me that the police had apprehended the man who, +they believed, was guilty of the captain's murder. + +"There is one detail to be cleared up," he said. "You told me the +other night that it was shortly after seven o'clock when you heard +the sounds of struggle in the room above you. You were somewhat +excited at the time, and under similar circumstances men have been +known to make mistakes. Have you considered the matter since? Is +it not possible that you were in error in regard to the hour?" + +I recalled Hughes' advice to humor the inspector; and I said that, +having thought it over, I was not quite sure. It might have been +earlier than seven--say six-thirty. + +"Exactly," said Bray. He seemed rather pleased. "The natural +stress of the moment--I understand. Wilkinson bring in your +prisoner. The constable addressed turned and left the room, coming +back a moment later with Lieutenant Norman Fraser-Freer. The boy +was pale; I could see at a glance that he had not slept for several +nights. + +"Lieutenant," said Bray very sharply, "will you tell me--is it true +that your brother, the late captain, had loaned you a large sum of +money a year or so ago?" + +"Quite true," answered the lieutenant in a low voice. + +"You and he had quarreled about the amount of money you spent?" + +"Yes." + +"By his death you became the sole heir of your father, the general. +Your position with the money-lenders was quite altered. Am I right?" + +"I fancy so." + +"Last Thursday afternoon you went to the Army and Navy Stores and +purchased a revolver. You already had your service weapon, but to +shoot a man with a bullet from that would be to make the hunt of +the police for the murderer absurdly simple." + +The boy made no answer. + +"Let us suppose," Bray went on, "that last Thursday evening at half +after six you called on your brother in his rooms at Adelphi Terrace. +There was an argument about money. You became enraged. You saw him +and him alone between you and the fortune you needed so badly. Then +--I am only supposing--you noticed on his table an odd knife he +had brought from India--safer--more silent--than a gun. You +seized it--" + +"Why suppose?" the boy broke in. "I'm not trying to conceal +anything. You're right--I did it! I killed my brother! Now let +us get the whole business over as soon as may be." + +Into the face of Inspector Bray there came at that moment a look +that has puzzling me ever since--a look that has recurred to my +mind again and again,--in the stress and storm of this eventful +day. It was only too evident that this confession came to him as +a shock. I presume so easy a victory seemed hollow to him; he was +wishing the boy had put up a fight. Policemen are probably like +that. + +"My boy," he said, "I am sorry for you. My course is clear. If +you will go with one of my men--" + +It was at this point that the door of the inspector's room opened +and Colonel Hughes, cool and smiling, walked in. Bray chuckled at +sight of the military man. + +"Ah, colonel," he cried, "you make a good entrance! This morning, +when I discovered that I had the honor of having you associated +with me in the search for the captain's murderer, you were foolish +enough to make a little wager--" + +"I remember," Hughes answered. "A scarab pin against--a Homburg +hat." + +"Precisely," said Bray. "You wagered that you, and not I, would +discover the guilty man. Well, Colonel, you owe me a scarab. +Lieutenant Norman Fraser-Freer has just told me that he killed his +brother, and I was on the point of taking down his full confession." + +"Indeed!" replied Hughes calmly. "Interesting--most interesting! +But before we consider the wager lost--before you force the +lieutenant to confess in full--I should like the floor." + +"Certainly," smiled Bray. + +"When you were kind enough to let me have two of your men this +morning," said Hughes, "I told you I contemplated the arrest of a +lady. I have brought that lady to Scotland Yard with me." He +stepped to the door, opened it and beckoned. A tall, blonde +handsome woman of about thirty-five entered; and instantly to my +nostrils came the pronounced odor of lilacs. "Allow me, Inspector," +went on the colonel, "to introduce to you the Countess Sophie de +Graf, late of Berlin, late of Delhi and Rangoon, now of 17 Leitrim +Grove, Battersea Park Road." + +The woman faced Bray; and there was a terrified, hunted look in +her eyes. + +"You are the inspector?" she asked. + +"I am," said Bray. + +"And a man--I can see that," she went on, her flashing angrily at +Hughes. "I appeal to you to protect me from the brutal questioning +of this--this fiend." + +"You are hardly complimentary, Countess," Hughes smiled. "But I +am willing to forgive you if you will tell the inspector the story +that you have recently related to me." + +The woman shut her lips tightly and for a long moment gazed into +the eyes of Inspector Bray. + +"He"--she said at last, nodding in the direction of Colonel Hughes +--"he got it out of me--how, I don't know." + +"Got what out of you?" Bray's little eyes were blinking. + +"At six-thirty o'clock last Thursday evening," said the woman, "I +went to the rooms of Captain Fraser-Freer, in Adelphi Terrace. An +argument arose. I seized from his table an Indian dagger that was +lying there--I stabbed him just above the heart!" + +In that room in Scotland Yard a tense silence fell. For the first +time we were all conscious of a tiny clock on the inspector's desk, +for it ticked now with a loudness sudden and startling. I gazed +at the faces about me. Bray's showed a momentary surprise--then +the mask fell again. Lieutenant Fraser-Freer was plainly amazed. +On the face of Colonel Hughes I saw what struck me as an open sneer. + +"Go on, Countess," he smiled. + +She shrugged her shoulders and turned toward him a disdainful back. +Her eyes were all for Bray. + +"It's very brief, the story," she said hastily--I thought almost +apologetically. "I had known the captain in Rangoon. My husband +was in business there--an exporter of rice--and Captain +Fraser-Freer came often to our house. We--he was a charming man, +the captain--" + +"Go on!" ordered Hughes. + +"We fell desperately in love," said the countess. "When he returned +to England, though supposedly on a furlough, he told me he would +never return to Rangoon. He expected a transfer to Egypt. So it +was arranged that I should desert my husband and follow on the next +boat. I did so--believing in the captain--thinking he really +cared for me--I gave up everything for him. And then--" + +Her voice broke and she took out a handkerchief. Again that odor +of lilacs in the room. + +"For a time I saw the captain often in London; and then I began to +notice a change. Back among his own kind, with the lonely days in +India a mere memory--he seemed no longer to--to care for me. +Then--last Thursday morning--he called on me to tell me that he +was through; that he would never see me again--in fact, that he +was to marry a girl of his own people who had been waiting--" + +The woman looked piteously about at us. + +"I was desperate," she pleaded. "I had given up all that life held +for me--given it up for a man who now looked at me coldly and spoke +of marrying another. Can you wonder that I went in the evening to +his rooms--went to plead with him--to beg, almost on my knees? +It was no use. He was done with me--he said that over and over. +Overwhelmed with blind rage and despair, I snatched up that knife +from the table and plunged it into his heart. At once I was filled +with remorse. I--" + +"One moment," broke in Hughes. "You may keep the details of your +subsequent actions until later. I should like to compliment you, +Countess. You tell it better each time." + +He came over and faced Bray. I thought there was a distinct note +of hostility in his voice. + +"Checkmate, Inspector!" he said. Bray made no reply. He sat there +staring up at the colonel, his face turned to stone. + +"The scarab pin," went on Hughes, "is not yet forthcoming. We are +tied for honors, my friend. You have your confession, but I have +one to match it." + +"All this is beyond me," snapped Bray. + +"A bit beyond me, too," the colonel answered. "Here are two people +who wish us to believe that on the evening of Thursday last, at half +after six of the clock, each sought out Captain Fraser-Freer in his +rooms and murdered him." + +He walked to the window and then wheeled dramatically. + +"The strangest part of it all is," he added, "that at six-thirty +o'clock last Thursday evening, at an obscure restaurant in Soho +--Frigacci's--these two people were having tea together!" + +I must admit that, as the colonel calmly offered this information, +I suddenly went limp all over at a realization of the endless maze +of mystery in which we were involved. The woman gave a little cry +and Lieutenant Fraser-Freer leaped to his feet. + +"How the devil do you know that?" he cried. + +"I know it," said Colonel Hughes, "because one of my men happened +to be having tea at a table near by. He happened to be having tea +there for the reason that ever since the arrival of this lady in +London, at the request of--er--friends in India, I have been +keeping track of her every move; just as I kept watch over your +late brother, the captain." + +Without a word Lieutenant Fraser-Freer dropped into a chair and +buried his face in his hands. + +"I'm sorry, my son," said Hughes. "Really, I am. You made a +heroic effort to keep the facts from coming out--a man's-size +effort it was. But the War Office knew long before you did that +your brother had succumbed to this woman's lure--that he was +serving her and Berlin, and not his own country, England." + +Fraser-Freer raised his head. When he spoke there was in his voice +an emotion vastly more sincere than that which had moved him when +he made his absurd confession. + +"The game's up," he said. "I have done all I could. This will +kill my father, I am afraid. Ours has been an honorable name, +Colonel; you know that--a long line of military men whose loyalty +to their country has never before been in question. I thought my +confession would and the whole nasty business, that the +investigations would stop, and that I might be able to keep forever +unknown this horrible thing about him--about my brother." + +Colonel Hughes laid his hand on the boy's shoulder, and the latter +went on: "They reached me--those frightful insinuations about +Stephen--in a round about way; and when he came home from India I +resolved to watch him. I saw him go often to the house of this +woman. I satisfied myself that she was the same one involved in +the stories coming from Rangoon; then, under another name, I managed +to meet her. I hinted to her that I myself was none too loyal; not +completely, but to a limited extent, I won her confidence. Gradually +I became convinced that my brother was indeed disloyal to his country, +to his name, to us all. It was at that tea time you have mentioned +when I finally made up my mind. I had already bought a revolver; and, +with it in my pocket, I went to the Savoy for dinner." + +He rose and paced the floor. + +"I left the Savoy early and went to Stephen's rooms. I was resolved +to have it out with him, to put the matter to him bluntly; and if he +had no explanation to give me I intended to kill him then and there. +So, you see, I was guilty in intention if not in reality. I entered +his study. It was filled with strangers. On his sofa I saw my +brother Stephen lying--stabbed above the heart--dead!" There was +a moment's silence. "That is all," said Lieutenant Fraser-Freer. + +"I take it," said Hughes kindly, "that we have finished with the +lieutenant. Eh, Inspector?" + +"Yes," said Bray shortly. "You may go." + +"Thank you," the boy answered. As he went out he said brokenly to +Hughes: "I must find him--my father." + +Bray sat in his chair, staring hard ahead, his jaw thrust out +angrily. Suddenly he turned on Hughes. + +"You don't play fair," he said. "I wasn't told anything of the +status of the captain at the War Office. This is all news to me." + +"Very well," smiled Hughes. "The bet is off if you like." + +"No, by heaven!" Bray cried. "It's still on, and I'll win it yet. +A fine morning's work I suppose you think you've done. But are we +any nearer to finding the murderer? Tell me that." + +"Only a bit nearer, at any rate," replied Hughes suavely. "This +lady, of course, remains in custody." + +"Yes, yes," answered the inspector. "Take her away!" he ordered. + +A constable came forward for the countess and Colonel Hughes +gallantly held open the door. + +"You will have an opportunity, Sophie," he said, "to think up +another story. You are clever--it will not be hard." + +She gave him a black look and went out. Bray got up from his desk. +He and Colonel Hughes stood facing each other across a table, and +to me there was something in the manner of each that suggested +eternal conflict. + +"Well?" sneered Bray. + +"There is one possibility we have overlooked," Hughes answered. +He turned toward me and I was startled by the coldness in his eyes. +"Do you know, Inspector," he went on, "that this American came to +London with a letter of introduction to the captain--a letter from +the captain's cousin, one Archibald Enwright? And do you know that +Fraser-Freer had no cousin of that name?" + +"No!" said Bray. + +"It happens to be the truth," said Hughes. "The American has +confessed as much to me." + +"Then," said Bray to me, and his little blinking eyes were on me +with a narrow calculating glance that sent the shivers up and down +my spine, "you are under arrest. I have exempted you so far because +of your friend at the United States Consulate. That exemption ends +now." + +I was thunderstruck. I turned to the colonel, the man who had +suggested that I seek him out if I needed a friend--the man I had +looked to to save me from just such a contingency as this. But his +eyes were quite fishy and unsympathetic. + +"Quite correct, Inspector," he said. "Lock him up!" And as I began +to protest he passed very close to me and spoke in a low voice: "Say +nothing. Wait!" + +I pleaded to be allowed to go back to my rooms, to communicate with +my friends, and pay a visit to our consulate and to the Embassy; and +at the colonel's suggestion Bray agreed to this somewhat irregular +course. So this afternoon I have been abroad with a constable, and +while I wrote this long letter to you he has been fidgeting in my +easy chair. Now he informs me that his patience is exhausted and +that I must go at once. So there is no time to wonder; no time to +speculate as to the future, as to the colonel's sudden turn against +me or the promise of his whisper in my ear. I shall, no doubt, +spend the night behind those hideous, forbidding walls that your +guide has pointed out to you as New Scotland Yard. And when I +shall write again, when I shall end this series of letters so +filled with-- + +The constable will not wait. He is as impatient as a child. +Surely he is lying when he says I have kept him here an hour. + +Wherever I am, dear lady, whatever be the end of this amazing +tangle, you may be sure the thought of you--Confound the man! + + YOURS, IN DURANCE VILE. + +This fifth letter from the young man of the Agony Column arrived +at the Carlton Hotel, as the reader may recall, on Monday morning, +August the third. And it represented to the girl from Texas the +climax of the excitement she had experienced in the matter of the +murder in Adelphi Terrace. The news that her pleasant young +friend--whom she did not know--had been arrested as a suspect in +the case, inevitable as it had seemed for days, came none the less +as an unhappy shock. She wondered whether there was anything she +could do to help. She even considered going to Scotland Yard and, +on the ground that her father was a Congressman from Texas, +demanding the immediate release of her strawberry man. Sensibly, +however, she decided that Congressmen from Texas meant little in +the life of the London police. Besides, she night have difficulty +in explaining to that same Congressman how she happened to know +all about a crime that was as yet unmentioned in the newspapers. + +So she reread the latter portion of the fifth letter, which pictured +her hero marched off ingloriously to Scotland Yard and with a +worried little sigh, went below to join her father. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +In the course of the morning she made several mysterious inquiries +of her parent regarding nice points of international law as it +concerned murder, and it is probable that he would have been struck +by the odd nature of these questions had he not been unduly excited +about another matter. + +"I tell you, we've got to get home!" he announced gloomily. "The +German troops are ready at Aix-la-Chapelle for an assault on Liege. +Yes, sir--they're going to strike through Belgium! Know what that +means? England in the war! Labor troubles; suffragette troubles; +civil war in Ireland--these things will melt winter in Texas. +They'll go in. It would be national suicide if they didn't." + +His daughter stared at him. She was unaware that it was the +bootblack at the Carlton he was now quoting. She began to think he +knew more about foreign affairs than she had given him credit for. + +"Yes, sir," he went on; "we've got to travel--fast. This won't be +a healthy neighborhood for non-combatants when the ruction starts. +I'm going if I have to buy a liner!" + +"Nonsense!" said the girl. "This is the chance of a lifetime. I +won't be cheated out of it by a silly old dad. Why, here we are, +face to face with history!" + +"American history is good enough for me," he spread-eagled. "What +are you looking at?" + +"Provincial to the death!" she said thoughtfully. "You old dear +--I love you so! Some of our statesmen over home are going to +look pretty foolish now in the face of things they can't understand +I hope you're not going to be one of them." + +"Twaddle!" he cried. "I'm going to the steamship offices to-day +and argue as I never argued for a vote." + +His daughter saw that he was determined; and, wise from long +experience, she did not try to dissuade him. + +London that hot Monday was a city on the alert, a city of hearts +heavy with dread. The rumors in one special edition of the papers +were denied in the next and reaffirmed in the next. Men who could +look into the future walked the streets with faces far from happy. +Unrest ruled the town. And it found its echo in the heart of the +girl from Texas as she thought of her young friend of the Agony +Column "in durance vile" behind the frowning walls of Scotland Yard. + +That afternoon her father appeared, with the beaming mien of the +victor, and announced that for a stupendous sum he had bought the +tickets of a man who was to have sailed on the steamship Saronia +three days hence. + +"The boat train leaves at ten Thursday morning," he said. "Take +your last look at Europe and be ready." + +Three days! His daughter listened with sinking heart. Could she +in three days' time learn the end of that strange mystery, know +the final fate of the man who had first addressed her so +unconventionally in a public print? Why, at the end of three days +he might still be in Scotland Yard, a prisoner! She could not +leave if that were true--she simply could not. Almost she was +on the point of telling her father the story of the whole affair, +confident that she could soothe his anger and enlist his aid. She +decided to wait until the next morning; and, if no letter came +then-- + +But on Tuesday morning a letter did come and the beginning of it +brought pleasant news. The beginning--yes. But the end! This +was the letter: + +DEAR ANXIOUS LADY: Is it too much for me to assume that you have +been just that, knowing as you did that I was locked up for the +murder of a captain in the Indian Army, with the evidence all +against me and hope a very still small voice indeed? + +Well, dear lady, be anxious no longer. I have just lived through +the most astounding day of all the astounding days that have been +my portion since last Thursday. And now, in the dusk, I sit again +in my rooms, a free man, and write to you in what peace and quiet +I can command after the startling adventure through which I have +recently passed. + +Suspicion no longer points to me; constables no longer eye me; +Scotland Yard is not even slightly interested in me. For the +murderer of Captain Fraser-Freer has been caught at last! + +Sunday night I spent ingloriously in a cell in Scotland Yard. I +could not sleep. I had so much to think of--you, for example, +and at intervals how I might escape from the folds of the net that +had closed so tightly about me. My friend at the consulate, +Watson, called on me late in the evening; and he was very kind. +But there was a note lacking in his voice, and after, he was gone +the terrible certainty came into my mind--he believed that I was +guilty after all. + +The night passed, and a goodly portion of to-day went by--as the +poets say--with lagging feet. I thought of London, yellow in the +sun. I thought of the Carlton--I suppose there are no more +strawberries by this time. And my waiter--that stiff-backed +Prussian--is home in Deutschland now, I presume, marching with his +regiment. I thought of you. + +At three o'clock this afternoon they came for me and I was led +back to the room belonging to Inspector Bray. When I entered, +however, the inspector was not there--only Colonel Hughes, +immaculate and self-possessed, as usual, gazing out the window +into the cheerless stone court. He turned when I entered. I +suppose I must have had a most woebegone appearance, for a look of +regret crossed his face. + +"My dear fellow," he cried, "my most humble apologies! I intended +to have you released last night. But, believe me, I have been +frightfully busy." + +I said nothing. What could I say? The fact that he had been busy +struck me as an extremely silly excuse. But the inference that my +escape from the toils of the law was imminent set my heart to +thumping. + +"I fear you can never forgive me for throwing you over as I did +yesterday," he went on. "I can only say that it was absolutely +necessary--as you shall shortly understand." + +I thawed a bit. After all, there was an unmistakable sincerity in +his voice and manner. + +"We are waiting for Inspector Bray," continued the colonel. "I +take it you wish to see this thing through?" + +"To the end," I answered. + +"Naturally. The inspector was called away yesterday immediately +after our interview with him. He had business on the Continent, +I understand. But fortunately I managed to reach him at Dover +and he has come back to London. I wanted him, you see, because +I have found the murderer of Captain Fraser-Freer." + +I thrilled to hear that, for from my point of view it was certainly +a consummation devoutly to be wished. The colonel did not speak +again. In a few minutes the door opened and Bray came in. His +clothes looked as though he had slept in them; his little eyes were +bloodshot. But in those eyes there was a fire I shall never forget. +Hughes bowed. + +"Good afternoon, Inspector," he said. "I'm really sorry I had to +interrupt you as I did; but I most awfully wanted you to know that +you owe me a Homburg hat." He went closer to the detective. "You +see, I have won that wager. I have found the man who murdered +Captain Fraser-Freer." + +Curiously enough, Bray said nothing. He sat down at his desk and +idly glanced through the pile of mail that lay upon it. Finally he +looked up and said in a weary tone: + +"You're very clever, I'm sure, Colonel Hughes." + +"Oh--I wouldn't say that," replied Hughes. "Luck was with me +--from the first. I am really very glad to have been of service +in the matter, for I am convinced that if I had not taken part in +the search it would have gone hard with some innocent man." + +Bray's big pudgy hands still played idly with the mail on his desk. +Hughes went on: "Perhaps, as a clever detective, you will be +interested in the series of events which enabled me to win that +Homburg hat? You have heard, no doubt, that the man I have caught +is Von der Herts--ten years ago the best secret-service man in +the employ of the Berlin government, but for the past few years +mysteriously missing from our line of vision. We've been wondering +about him--at the War Office." + +The colonel dropped into a chair, facing Bray. + +"You know Von der Herts, of course?" he remarked casually. + +"Of course," said Bray, still in that dead tired voice. + +"He is the head of that crowd in England," went on Hughes. "Rather +a feather in my cap to get him--but I mustn't boast. Poor +Fraser-Freer would have got him if I hadn't--only Von der Herts +had the luck to get the captain first." + +Bray raised his eyes. + +"You said you were going to tell me--" he began. + +"And so I am," said Hughes. "Captain Fraser-Freer got in rather +a mess in India and failed of promotion. It was suspected that he +was discontented, soured on the Service; and the Countess Sophie +de Graf was set to beguile him with her charms, to kill his loyalty +and win him over to her crowd. + +"It was thought she had succeeded--the Wilhelmstrasse thought +so--we at the War Office thought so, as long as he stayed in India. + +"But when the captain and the woman came on to London we discovered +that we had done him a great injustice. He let us know, when the +first chance offered, that he was trying to redeem himself, to round +up a dangerous band of spies by pretending to be one of them. He +said that it was his mission in London to meet Von der Herts, the +greatest of them all; and that, once he had located this man, we +would hear from him again. In the weeks that followed I continued +to keep a watch on the countess; and I kept track of the captain, +too, in a general way, for I'm ashamed to say I was not quite sure +of him." + +The colonel got up and walked to the window; then turned and +continued: "Captain Fraser-Freer and Von der Herts were completely +unknown to each other. The mails were barred as a means of +communication; but Fraser-Freer knew that in some way word from the +master would reach him, and he had had a tip to watch the personal +column of the Daily Mail. Now we have the explanation of those four +odd messages. From that column the man from Rangoon learned that +he was to wear a white aster in his button-hole, a scarab pin in +his tie, a Homburg hat on his head, and meet Von der Herts at Ye +Old Gambrinus Restaurant in Regent Street, last Thursday night at +ten o'clock. As we know, he made all arrangements to comply with +those directions. He made other arrangements as well. Since it +was out of the question for him to come to Scotland Yard, by +skillful maneuvering he managed to interview an inspector of police +at the Hotel Cecil. It was agreed that on Thursday night Von der +Herts would be placed under arrest the moment he made himself known +to the captain." + +Hughes paused. Bray still idled with his pile of letters, while +the colonel regarded him gravely. + +"Poor Fraser-Freer!" Hughes went on. "Unfortunately for him, Von +der Herts knew almost as soon as did the inspector that a plan was +afoot to trap him. There was but one course open to him: He located +the captain's lodgings, went there at seven that night, and killed +a loyal and brave Englishman where he stood." + +A tense silence filled the room. I sat on the edge of my chair, +wondering just where all this unwinding of the tangle was leading us. + +"I had little, indeed, to work on," went on Hughes. "But I had +this advantage: the spy thought the police, and the police alone, +were seeking the murderer. He was at no pains to throw me off his +track, because he did not suspect that I was on it. For weeks my +men had been watching the countess. I had them continue to do so. +I figured that sooner or later Von der Herts would get in touch +with her. I was right. And when at last I saw with my own eyes +the man who must, beyond all question, be Von der Herts, I was +astounded, my dear Inspector, I was overwhelmed." + +"Yes?" said Bray. + +"I set to work then in earnest to connect him with that night in +Adelphi Terrace. All the finger marks in the captain's study +were for some reason destroyed, but I found others outside, in the +dust on that seldom-used gate which leads from the garden. Without +his knowing, I secured from the man I suspected the imprint of his +right thumb. A comparison was startling. Next I went down into +Fleet Street and luckily managed to get hold of the typewritten +copy sent to the Mail bearing those four messages. I noticed that +in these the letter a was out of alignment. I maneuvered to get a +letter written on a typewriter belonging to my man. The a was out +of alignment. Then Archibald Enwright, a renegade and waster well +known to us as serving other countries, came to England. My man +and he met--at Ye Old Gambrinus, in Regent Street. And finally, +on a visit to the lodgings of this man who, I was now certain, was +Von der Herts, under the mattress of his bed I found this knife." + +And Colonel Hughes threw down upon the inspector's desk the knife +from India that I had last seen in the study of Captain Fraser-Freer. + +"All these points of evidence were in my hands yesterday morning +in this room," Hughes went on. "Still, the answer they gave me was +so unbelievable, so astounding, I was not satisfied; I wanted even +stronger proof. That is why I directed suspicion to my American +friend here. I was waiting. I knew that at last Von der Herts +realized the danger he was in. I felt that if opportunity were +offered he would attempt to escape from England; and then our proofs +of his guilt would be unanswerable, despite his cleverness. True +enough, in the afternoon he secured the release of the countess, +and together they started for the Continent. I was lucky enough to +get him at Dover--and glad to let the lady go on." + +And now, for the first time, the startling truth struck me full in +the face as Hughes smiled down at his victim. + +"Inspector Bray," he said, "or Von der Herts, as you choose, I +arrest you on two counts: First, as the head of the Wilhelmstrasse +spy system in England; second, as the murderer of Captain +Fraser-Freer. And, if you will allow me, I wish to compliment you +on your efficiency." + +Bray did not reply for a moment. I sat numb in my chair. Finally +the inspector looked up. He actually tried to smile. + +"You win the hat," he said, "but you must go to Homburg for it. I +will gladly pay all expenses." + +"Thank you," answered Hughes. "I hope to visit your country before +long; but I shall not be occupied with hats. Again I congratulate +you. You were a bit careless, but your position justified that. As +head of the department at Scotland Yard given over to the hunt for +spies, precaution doubtless struck you as unnecessary. How unlucky +for poor Fraser-Freer that it was to you he went to arrange for your +own arrest! I got that information from a clerk at the Cecil. You +were quite right, from your point of view, to kill him. And, as I +say, you could afford to be rather reckless. You had arranged that +when the news of his murder came to Scotland Yard you yourself would +be on hand to conduct the search for the guilty man. A happy +situation, was it not?" + +"It seemed so at the time," admitted Bray; and at last I thought I +detected a note of bitterness in his voice. + +"I'm very sorry--really," said Hughes. "To-day, or to-morrow at +the latest, England will enter the war. You know what that means, +Von der Herts. The Tower of London--and a firing squad!" + +Deliberately he walked away from the inspector, and stood facing +the window. Von der Herts was fingering idly that Indian knife +which lay on his desk. With a quick hunted look about the room, he +raised his hand; and before I could leap forward to stop him he had +plunged the knife into his heart. + +Colonel Hughes turned round at my cry, but even at what met his +eyes now that Englishman was imperturbable. + +"Too bad!" he said. "Really too bad! The man had courage and, +beyond all doubt, brains. But--this is most considerate of him. +He has saved me such a lot of trouble." + +The colonel effected my release at once; and he and I walked down +Whitehall together in the bright sun that seemed so good to me after +the bleak walls of the Yard. Again he apologized for turning +suspicion my way the previous day; but I assured him I held no +grudge for that. + +"One or two things I do not understand," I said. "That letter I +brought from Interlaken--" + +"Simple enough," he replied. "Enwright--who, by the way, is now +in the Tower--wanted to communicate with Fraser-Freer, who he +supposed was a loyal member of the band. Letters sent by post +seemed dangerous. With your kind assistance he informed the captain +of his whereabouts and the date of his imminent arrival in London. +Fraser-Freer, not wanting you entangled in his plans, eliminated you +by denying the existence of this cousin--the truth, of course." + +"Why," I asked, "did the countess call on me to demand that I alter +my testimony?" + +"Bray sent her. He had rifled Fraser-Freer's desk and he held that +letter from Enwright. He was most anxious to fix the guilt upon +the young lieutenant's head. You and your testimony as to the +hour of the crime stood in the way. He sought to intimidate you +with threats--" + +"But--" + +"I know--you are wondering why the countess confessed to me next +day. I had the woman in rather a funk. In the meshes of my +rapid-fire questioning she became hopelessly involved. This was +because she was suddenly terrified she realized I must have been +watching her for weeks, and that perhaps Von der Herts was not so +immune from suspicion as he supposed. At the proper moment I +suggested that I might have to take her to Inspector Bray. This +gave her an idea. She made her fake confession to reach his side; +once there, she warned him of his danger and they fled together." + +We walked along a moment in silence. All about us the lurid special +editions of the afternoon were flaunting their predictions of the +horror to come. The face of the colonel was grave. + +"How long had Von der Herts held his position at the Yard?" I asked. + +"For nearly five years," Hughes answered. + +"It seems incredible," I murmured. + +"So it does," he answered; "but it is only the first of many +incredible things that this war will reveal. Two months from now +we shall all have forgotten it in the face of new revelations far +more unbelievable." He sighed. "If these men about us realized the +terrible ordeal that lies ahead! Misgoverned; unprepared--I +shudder at the thought of the sacrifices we must make, many of them +in vain. But I suppose that somehow, some day, we shall muddle +through." + +He bade me good-by in Trafalgar Square, saying that he must at once +seek out the father and brother of the late captain, and tell them +the news--that their kinsman was really loyal to his country. + +"It will come to them as a ray of light in the dark--my news," he +said. "And now, thank you once again." + +We parted and I came back here to my lodgings. The mystery is +finally solved, though in such a way it is difficult to believe +that it was anything but a nightmare at any time. But solved none +the less; and I should be at peace, except for one great black fact +that haunts me, will not let me rest. I must tell you, dear lady +--And yet I fear it means the end of everything. If only I can +make you understand! + +I have walked my floor, deep in thought, in puzzlement, in +indecision. Now I have made up my mind. There is no other way +--I must tell you the truth. + +Despite the fact that Bray was Von der Herts; despite the fact that +he killed himself at the discovery--despite this and that, and +everything--Bray did not kill Captain Fraser-Freer! + +On last Thursday evening, at a little after seven o'clock, I myself +climbed the stairs, entered the captain's rooms, picked up that +knife from his desk, and stabbed him just above the heart! + +What provocation I was under, what stern necessity moved me--all +this you must wait until to-morrow to know. I shall spend another +anxious day preparing my defense, hoping that through some miracle +of mercy you may forgive me--understand that there was nothing +else I could do. + +Do not judge, dear lady, until you know everything--until all my +evidence is in your lovely hands. + YOURS, IN ALL HUMILITY. + +The first few paragraphs of this the sixth and next to the last +letter from the Agony Column man had brought a smile of relief to +the face of the girl who read. She was decidedly glad to learn +that her friend no longer languished back of those gray walls on +Victoria Embankment. With excitement that increased as she went +along, she followed Colonel Hughes as--in the letter--he moved +nearer and nearer his denouement, until finally his finger pointed +to Inspector Bray sitting guilty in his chair. This was an +eminently satisfactory solution, and it served the inspector right +for locking up her friend. Then, with the suddenness of a bomb +from a Zeppelin, came, at the end, her strawberry man's confession +of guilt. He was the murderer, after all! He admitted it! She +could scarcely believe her eyes. + +Yet there it was, in ink as violet as those eyes, on the note paper +that had become so familiar to her during the thrilling week just +past. She read it a second time, and yet a third. Her amazement +gave way to anger; her cheeks flamed. Still--he had asked her not +to judge until all his evidence was in. This was a reasonable +request surely, and she could not in fairness refuse to grant it. + + +CHAPTER VIII + +So began an anxious day, not only for the girl from Texas but for +all London as well. Her father was bursting with new diplomatic +secrets recently extracted from his bootblack adviser. Later, in +Washington, he was destined to be a marked man because of his +grasp of the situation abroad. No one suspected the bootblack, +the power behind the throne; but the gentleman from Texas was +destined to think of that able diplomat many times, and to wish +that he still had him at his feet to advise him. + +"War by midnight, sure!" he proclaimed on the morning of this +fateful Tuesday. "I tell you, Marian, we're lucky to have our +tickets on the Saronia. Five thousand dollars wouldn't buy them +from me to-day! I'll be a happy man when we go aboard that liner +day after to-morrow." + +Day after to-morrow! The girl wondered. At any rate, she would +have that last letter then--the letter that was to contain whatever +defense her young friend could offer to explain his dastardly act. +She waited eagerly for that final epistle. + +The day dragged on, bringing at its close England's entrance into +the war; and the Carlton bootblack was a prophet not without honor +in a certain Texas heart. And on the following morning there +arrived a letter which was torn open by eager trembling fingers. +The letter spoke: + +DEAR LADY JUDGE: This is by far the hardest to write of all the +letters you have had from me. For twenty-four hours I have been +planning it. Last night I walked on the Embankment while the +hansoms jogged by and the lights of the tramcars danced on +Westminster Bridge just as the fireflies used to in the garden +back of our house in Kansas. While I walked I planned. To-day, +shut up in my rooms, I was also planning. And yet now, when I +sit down to write, I am still confused; still at a loss where to +begin and what to say, once I have begun. + +At the close of my last letter I confessed to you that it was I +who murdered Captain Fraser-Freer. That is the truth. Soften the +blow as I may, it all comes down to that. The bitter truth! + +Not a week ago--last Thursday night at seven--I climbed our +dark stairs and plunged a knife into the heart of that defenseless +gentleman. If only I could point out to you that he had offended +me in some way; if I could prove to you that his death was +necessary to me, as it really was to Inspector Bray--then there +might be some hope of your ultimate pardon. But, alas! he had +been most kind to me--kinder than I have allowed you to guess +from my letters. There was no actual need to do away with him. +Where shall I look for a defense? + +At the moment the only defense I can think of is simply this--the +captain knows I killed him! + +Even as I write this, I hear his footsteps above me, as I heard +them when I sat here composing my first letter to you. He is +dressing for dinner. We are to dine together at Romano's. + +And there, my lady, you have finally the answer to the mystery that +has--I hope--puzzled you. I killed my friend the captain in my +second letter to you, and all the odd developments that followed +lived only in my imagination as I sat here beside the green-shaded +lamp in my study, plotting how I should write seven letters to you +that would, as the novel advertisements say, grip your attention to +the very end. Oh, I am guilty--there is no denying that. And, +though I do not wish to ape old Adam and imply that I was tempted +by a lovely woman, a strict regard for the truth forces me to add +that there is also guilt upon your head. How so? Go back to that +message you inserted in the Daily Mail: "The grapefruit lady's +great fondness for mystery and romance--" + +You did not know it, of course; but in those words you passed me a +challenge I could not resist; for making plots is the business of +life--more, the breath of life--to me. I have made many; and +perhaps you have followed some of them, on Broadway. Perhaps you +have seen a play of mine announced for early production in London. +There was mention of it in the program at the Palace. That was the +business which kept me in England. The project has been abandoned +now and I am free to go back home. + +Thus you see that when you granted me the privilege of those seven +letters you played into my hands. So, said I, she longs for mystery +and romance. Then, by the Lord Harry, she shall have them! + +And it was the tramp of Captain Fraser-Freer's boots above my head +that showed me the way. A fine, stalwart, cordial fellow--the +captain--who has been very kind to me since I presented my letter +of introduction from his cousin, Archibald Enwright. Poor Archie! +A meek, correct little soul, who would be horrified beyond +expression if he knew that of him I had made a spy and a frequenter +of Limehouse! + +The dim beginnings of the plot were in my mind when I wrote that +first letter, suggesting that all was not regular in the matter of +Archie's note of introduction. Before I wrote my second, I knew +that nothing but the death of Fraser-Freer would do me. I recalled +that Indian knife I had seen upon his desk, and from that moment he +was doomed. At that time I had no idea how I should solve the +mystery. But I had read and wondered at those four strange messages +in the Mail, and I resolved that they must figure in the scheme of +things. + +The fourth letter presented difficulties until I returned from +dinner that night and saw a taxi waiting before our quiet house. +Hence the visit of the woman with the lilac perfume. I am afraid +the Wilhelmstrasse would have little use for a lady spy who +advertised herself in so foolish a manner. Time for writing the +fifth letter arrived. I felt that I should now be placed under +arrest. I had a faint little hope that you would be sorry about +that. Oh, I'm a brute, I know! + +Early in the game I had told the captain of the cruel way in which +I had disposed of him. He was much amused; but he insisted, +absolutely, that he must be vindicated before the close of the +series, and I was with him there. He had been so bully about it +all. A chance remark of his gave me my solution. He said he had +it on good authority that the chief of the Czar's bureau for +capturing spies in Russia was himself a spy. And so--why not a +spy in Scotland Yard? + +I assure you, I am most contrite as I set all this down here. You +must remember that when I began my story there was no idea of war. +Now all Europe is aflame; and in the face of the great conflict, the +awful suffering to come, I and my little plot begin to look--well, +I fancy you know just how we look. + +Forgive me. I am afraid I can never find the words to tell you how +important it seemed to interest you in my letters--to make you feel +that I am an entertaining person worthy of your notice. That +morning when you entered the Carlton breakfast room was really the +biggest in my life. I felt as though you had brought with you +through that doorway-- But I have no right to say it. I have the +right to say nothing save that now--it is all left to you. If I +have offended, then I shall never hear from you again. + +The captain will be here in a moment. It is near the hour set and +he is never late. He is not to return to India, but expects to +be drafted for the Expeditionary Force that will be sent to the +Continent. I hope the German Army will be kinder to him than I was! + +My name is Geoffrey West. I live at nineteen Adelphi Terrace--in +rooms that look down on the most wonderful garden in London. That, +at least, is real. It is very quiet there to-night, with the city +and its continuous hum of war and terror seemingly a million miles +away. + +Shall we meet at last? The answer rests entirely with you. But, +believe me, I shall be anxiously waiting to know; and if you decide +to give me a chance to explain--to denounce myself to you in +person--then a happy man will say good-by to this garden and these +dim dusty rooms and follow you to the ends of the earth--aye, to +Texas itself! + +Captain Fraser-Freer is coming down the stairs. Is this good-by +forever, my lady? With all my soul, I hope not. + + YOUR CONTRITE STRAWBERRY MAN. + + +CHAPTER IX + +Words are futile things with which to attempt a description of the +feelings of the girl at the Carlton as she read this, the last letter +of seven written to her through the medium of her maid, Sadie Haight. +Turning the pages of the dictionary casually, one might enlist a +few--for example, amazement, anger, unbelief, wonder. Perhaps, to +go back to the letter a, even amusement. We may leave her with the +solution to the puzzle in her hand, the Saronia a little more than +a day away, and a weirdly mixed company of emotions struggling in +her soul. + +And leaving her thus, let us go back to Adelphi Terrace and a young +man exceedingly worried. + +Once he knew that his letter was delivered, Mr. Geoffrey West took +his place most humbly on the anxious seat. There he writhed through +the long hours of Wednesday morning. Not to prolong this painful +picture, let us hasten to add that at three o'clock that same +afternoon came a telegram that was to end suspense. He tore it open +and read: + +STRAWBERRY MAN: I shall never, never forgive, you. But we are +sailing tomorrow on the Saronia. Were you thinking of going home soon? +MARIAN A. LARNED. + +Thus it happened that, a few minutes later, to the crowd of troubled +Americans in a certain steamship booking office there was added a +wild-eyed young man who further upset all who saw him. To weary +clerks he proclaimed in fiery tones that he must sail on the Saronia. +There seemed to be no way of appeasing him. The offer of a private +liner would not have interested him. + +He raved and tore his hair. He ranted. All to no avail. There was, +in plain American, "nothing doing!" + +Damp but determined, he sought among the crowd for one who had +bookings on the Saronia. He could find, at first, no one so lucky; +but finally he ran across Tommy Gray. Gray, an old friend, admitted +when pressed that he had a passage on that most desirable boat. But +the offer of all the king's horses and all the king's gold left him +unmoved. Much, he said, as he would have liked to oblige, he and his +wife were determined. They would sail. + +It was then that Geoffrey West made a compact with his friend. He +secured from him the necessary steamer labels and it was arranged that +his baggage was to go aboard the Saronia as the property of Gray. + +"But," protested Gray, "even suppose you do put this through; +suppose you do manage to sail without a ticket--where will you +sleep? In chains somewhere below, I fancy." + +"No matter!" bubbled West. "I'll sleep in the dining saloon, in a +lifeboat, on the lee scuppers--whatever they are. I'll sleep in +the air, without any visible support! I'll sleep anywhere--nowhere +--but I'll sail! And as for irons--they don't make 'em strong +enough to hold me." + +At five o'clock on Thursday afternoon the Saronia slipped smoothly +away from a Liverpool dock. Twenty-five hundred Americans--about +twice the number the boat could comfortably carry--stood on her +decks and cheered. Some of those in that crowd who had millions of +money were booked for the steerage. All of them were destined to +experience during that crossing hunger, annoyance, discomfort. They +were to be stepped on, sat on, crowded and jostled. They suspected +as much when the boat left the dock. Yet they cheered! + +Gayest among them was Geoffrey West, triumphant amid the confusion. +He was safely aboard; the boat was on its way! Little did it +trouble him that he went as a stowaway, since he had no ticket; +nothing but an overwhelming determination to be on the good ship +Saronia. + +That night as the Saronia stole along with all deck lights out and +every porthole curtained, West saw on the dim deck the slight figure +of a girl who meant much to him. She was standing staring out over +the black waters; and, with wildly beating heart, he approached her, +not knowing what to say, but feeling that a start must be made +somehow. + +"Please pardon me for addressing--" he began. "But I want to tell +you--" + +She turned, startled; and then smiled an odd little smile, which he +could not see in the dark. + +"I beg your pardon," she said. "I haven't met you, that I recall--" + +"I know," he answered. "That's going to be arranged to-morrow. +Mrs. Tommy Gray says you crossed with them--" + +"Mere steamer acquaintances," the girl replied coldly. + +"Of course! But Mrs. Gray is a darling--she'll fix that all right. +I just want to say, before to-morrow comes--" + +"Wouldn't it be better to wait?" + +"I can't! I'm on this ship without a ticket. I've got to go down +in a minute and tell the purser that. Maybe he'll throw me +overboard; maybe he'll lock me up. I don't know what they do with +people like me. Maybe they'll make a stoker of me. And then I +shall have to stoke, with no chance of seeing you again. So that's +why I want to say now--I'm sorry I have such a keen imagination. +It carried me away--really it did! I didn't mean to deceive you +with those letters; but, once I got started-- You know, don't you, +that I love you with all my heart? From the moment you came into +the Carlton that morning I--" + +"Really--Mr.--Mr.--" + +"West--Geoffrey West. I adore you! What can I do to prove it? +I'm going to prove it--before this ship docks in the North River. +Perhaps I'd better talk to your father, and tell him about the +Agony Column and those seven letters--" + +"You'd better not! He's in a terribly bad humor. The dinner was +awful, and the steward said we'd be looking back to it and calling +it a banquet before the voyage ends. Then, too, poor dad says he +simply can not sleep in the stateroom they've given him--" + +"All the better! I'll see him at once. If he stands for me now +he'll stand for me any time! And, before I go down and beard a +harsh-looking purser in his den, won't you believe me when I say +I'm deeply in love--" + +"In love with mystery and romance! In love with your own remarkable +powers of invention! Really, I can't take you seriously--" + +"Before this voyage is ended you'll have to. I'll prove to you that +I care. If the purser lets me go free--" + +"You have much to prove," the girl smiled. "To-morrow--when Mrs. +Tommy Gray introduces us--I may accept you--as a builder of plots. +I happen to know you are good. But--as-- It's too silly! Better +go and have it out with that purser." + +Reluctantly he went. In five minutes he was back. The girl was +still standing by the rail. + +"It's all right!" West said. "I thought I was doing something +original, but there were eleven other people in the same fix. One +of them is a billionaire from Wall Street. The purser collected +some money from us and told us to sleep on the deck--if we could +find room." + +"I'm sorry," said the girl. "I rather fancied you in the role of +stoker." She glanced about her at the dim deck. "Isn't this +exciting? I'm sure this voyage is going to be filled with mystery +and romance." + +"I know it will be full of romance," West answered. "And the +mystery will be--can I convince you--" + +"Hush!" broke in the girl. "Here comes father! I shall be very +happy to meet you--to-morrow. Poor dad! he's looking for a place +to sleep." + +Five days later poor dad, having slept each night on deck in his +clothes while the ship plowed through a cold drizzle, and having +starved in a sadly depleted dining saloon, was a sight to move the +heart of a political opponent. Immediately after a dinner that +had scarcely satisfied a healthy Texas appetite he lounged gloomily +in the deck chair which was now his stateroom. Jauntily Geoffrey +West came and sat at his side. + +"Mr. Larned," he said, "I've got something for you." + +And, with a kindly smile, he took from his pocket and handed over +a large, warm baked potato. The Texan eagerly accepted the gift. + +"Where'd you get it?" he demanded, breaking open his treasure. + +"That's a secret," West answered. "But I can get as many as I want. +Mr. Larned, I can say this--you will not go hungry any longer. +And there's something else I ought to speak of. I am sort of aiming +to marry your daughter." + +Deep in his potato the Congressman spoke: + +"What does she say about it?" + +"Oh, she says there isn't a chance. But--" + +"Then look out, my boy! She's made up her mind to have you." + +"I'm glad to hear you say that. I really ought to tell you who I +am. Also, I want you to know that, before your daughter and I met, +I wrote her seven letters--" + +"One minute," broke in the Texan. "Before you go into all that, +won't you be a good fellow and tell me where you got this potato?" + +West nodded. + +"Sure!" he said; and, leaning over, he whispered. + +For the first time in days a smile appeared on the face of the +older man. + +"My boy," he said, "I feel I'm going to like you. Never mind the +rest. I heard all about you from your friend Gray; and as for those +letters--they were the only thing that made the first part of this +trip bearable. Marian gave them to me to read the night we came on +board." + +Suddenly from out of the clouds a long-lost moon appeared, and +bathed that over-crowded ocean liner in a flood of silver. West +left the old man to his potato and went to find the daughter. + +She was standing in the moonlight by the rail of the forward deck, +her eyes staring dreamily ahead toward the great country that had +sent her forth light-heartedly for to adventure and to see. She +turned as West came up. + +"I have just been talking with your father," he said. "He tells me +he thinks you mean to take me, after all." She laughed. + +"To-morrow night," she answered, "will be our last on board. I +shall give you my final decision then." + +"But that is twenty-four hours away! Must I wait so long as that?" + +"A little suspense won't hurt you. I can't forget those long days +when I waited for your letters--" + +"I know! But can't you give me--just a little hint--here +--to-night?" + +"I am without mercy--absolutely without mercy!" + +And then, as West's fingers closed over her hand, she added softly: +"Not even the suspicion of a hint, my dear--except to tell you +that--my answer will be--yes." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext The Agony Column, by Earl Derr Biggers + diff --git a/old/gnycl10.zip b/old/gnycl10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee221a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/gnycl10.zip |