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diff --git a/33453-h/33453-h.htm b/33453-h/33453-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..08e77e7 --- /dev/null +++ b/33453-h/33453-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9913 @@ +<!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" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Traitor's Wooing, by Headon Hill. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +div.centered {text-align: center;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 1 */ +div.centered table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 2 */ + + + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + color: #A9A9A9; +} + + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: #A9A9A9; + font-weight: normal; font-variant: normal; + font-style: normal; letter-spacing: normal; + +} /* page numbers */ + + + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + +.caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: smaller;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + margin-top: 3em; +} + + + + + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +.author {text-align: right; margin-right: 5%;} + + + +.centerbox { width: 60%; /* heading box */ + margin: 0 auto; + text-align: center; + padding: 1em; + } + + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Traitor's Wooing, by Headon Hill + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Traitor's Wooing + +Author: Headon Hill + +Release Date: August 17, 2010 [EBook #33453] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TRAITOR'S WOOING *** + + + + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 367px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="367" height="600" id="coverpage" alt="" title="cover" /> +</div> + + + <h1>A<br /> + TRAITOR'S WOOING</h1> + + <h4>By</h4> + + <h2>HEADON HILL</h2> + + <p class="center"><i>Author of "Her Splendid Sin," "The Hidden Victim,"<br /> + "A Race with Ruin," etc. etc.</i><br /><br /> + + ILLUSTRATED<br /><br /> + + LONDON<br /> + + WARD LOCK & CO. LTD<br /> + + 1909</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 351px;"> +<img src="images/i002.jpg" width="351" height="550" alt=""'Is that all you have to say to me?' asked Violet +quietly." + +" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"'Is that all you have to say to me?' asked Violet +quietly."<br /> + +(Page 168)<br /> + +<i>A Traitor's Wooing</i> [<i>Frontispiece</i>]</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BY_THE_SAME_AUTHOR" id="BY_THE_SAME_AUTHOR"></a><i>BY THE SAME AUTHOR.</i></h2> + +<div class="centerbox"> +<h3>THE AVENGERS.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Tribune.</span>—Mr. Headon Hill's new book, "The Avengers," has not a dull +line, and one's pulse is kept on the jig all the time. He deserves the +highest admiration for the consistent way in which he has avoided the +slightest suspicion of probability.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Liverpool Courier.</span>—We can strongly recommend the story. It is one +of the best things Mr. Hill has done.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Dundee Advertiser.</span>—"The Avengers" maintains the highest reputation +of Mr. Headon Hill as a novelist. The story is crowded with incident, +and, unlike many novels of its class, commands the closest interest of +the reader from start to finish.</p> + + +<h3>MILLIONS OF MISCHIEF.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Globe.</span>—Ingenuity could no further go; and besides its ingenuity the +story can boast of some clever and effective writing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Stage.</span>—Not even the late Guy Boothby imagined anything more +magnificently preposterous than the motive of Mr. Headon Hill's +"Millions of Mischief."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Morning Leader.</span>—Mr. Hill has woven a clever and dramatic plot. He has +seldom put greater finish into his work, and the result is a striking +and vigorous book.</p> + + +<h3>HER SPLENDID SIN.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Perthshire Courier.</span>—Headon Hill is a master hand at devising and +unravelling mysteries. He always gives us good reading with plenty of +thrilling incident. He has never told an intensely absorbing story with +more dramatic directness than this one. The story is admirably written, +the interest never flagging.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Northern Whig.</span>—Her Splendid Sin stands for sensationalism of a +decidedly striking sort. The novel is written with vigour and is based +on ideas which go to the making of a rattling good story.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Dundee Courier.</span>—The reader is hurried breathless from one exciting +situation to another, till in the end the nefarious schemes of a +syndicate of villains are checkmated, and virtue is rewarded. The book +is written in the author's best style.</p> + + +<h3>UNMASKED AT LAST.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Morning Leader.</span>—Mr. Headon Hill is a past master of thrills and, +like Mr. Holmes, causes us almost to believe that the most innocent +professions are really dangerous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Christian World.</span>—The various sensations are very cleverly devised +and Mr. Headon Hill knows how to hold one's attention. The motor car +race, which is the closing episode of a well conceived plot, is full of +sport, from start to finish.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Liverpool Courier.</span>—The Author has never told an intensely absorbing +story with more dramatic directness, and none who once dip into its +pages can lay it down willingly until the last chapter has been read.</p> + + +<h3>A RACE WITH RUIN.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Morning Advertiser.</span>—A book by Headon Hill may always be relied on +to provide good reading with plenty of incident. In "A Race with Ruin" +he fully maintains his reputation, and readers will not be disappointed +in their expectation of finding a good, stirring story with an admirable +and well-worked out plot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Leicester Post.</span>—It is an admirable sporting story, and should not +only enhance the reputation of its Author, but materially enlarge the +circle of his readers. The plot is deftly planned, and not only soon +arouses interest, but broadens and deepens it until the close.</p> + + +<h3>THE HIDDEN VICTIM.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Morning Leader.</span>—A fine story of blackmail and plotting. "The Hidden +Victim" abounds in unusual and surprising situations.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Northern Whig.</span>—Mr. Headon Hill handles his chosen topics with great +facility and a commendable degree of craftsmanship. In this novel there +is an amazing series of entanglements.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Liverpool Courier.</span>—It is quite equal to anything the writer has +done. The plot is skilfully devised to carry a weighty load of exciting +episode. The narrative goes forward breathlessly and holds the +attention.</p> + + +<h3>RADFORD SHONE.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Leicester Post.</span>—Radford Shone is another very welcome volume from +an accomplished pen. The exploits at once rivet attention and hold it +spellbound to the end. Once begun it will be eagerly read right through +to the end.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Standard.</span>—This novelist has a real genius for the constructional +stories. He knows to a hair's-breadth the best theme to select, and +almost unerringly what details to omit. His power of invention is +remarkable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="60%" summary="CONTENTS"> +<tr><td align="right"> </td><td align="left">CHAP.</td><td align="right">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">I</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Two Villains and the Heroine</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_9'>9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">II</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">"A Screw Loose Somewhere"</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_18'>18</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">III</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Presage of Storm</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_31'>31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IV</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Nugent moves a Pawn</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_42'>42</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">V</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Under the Searchlight</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_50'>50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VI</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Cry from the Train</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_60'>60</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VII</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Face in the Pool</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_71'>71</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VIII</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Intercepted</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_80'>80</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IX</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Inquisitive Foreman</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_90'>90</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">X</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Lure of Love</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_102'>102</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XI</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Peering Eyes</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_109'>109</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XII</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Cobra's</i> <span class="smcap">Sailing Orders</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_120'>120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIII</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Fool's Paradise Lost</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_128'>128</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIV</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Creaking Stair</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_139'>139</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XV</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Council of Three</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_147'>147</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVI</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Barbed Shafts</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_156'>156</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVII</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">"The Bootlace Man"</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_169'>169</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVIII</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Trap is Set</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_178'>178</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIX</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Sleeping Snake</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_185'>185</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XX</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Blue Light and Green</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_195'>195</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXI</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Trap Closes</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_204'>204</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXII</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Shadow of Horror</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_213'>213</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXIII</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">In the Stone Grotto</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_223'>223</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXIV</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">In the Toils</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_234'>234</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXV</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Last Chance Fails</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_243'>243</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXVI</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Enid is "Mixed up"</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_254'>254</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXVII</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Pursuit</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_263'>263</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXVIII</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Travers Nugent Pays</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_274'>274</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXIX</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Sting of the Nettle</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_287'>287</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXX</td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Aftermath of Storm</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_296'>296</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="A_TRAITORS_WOOING" id="A_TRAITORS_WOOING"></a>A TRAITOR'S WOOING</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>TWO VILLAINS AND THE HEROINE</h3> + + +<p>"Your Highness will find your opportunity now; Miss Maynard is for the +moment alone," Mr. Travers Nugent whispered to his companion.</p> + +<p>A guttural "Ah!" was the only answer as the individual addressed left +the speaker's side and made his way through the crush towards a tall +girl who had just dismissed her partner in the last dance. The ball-room +at Brabazon House was almost inconveniently crowded on the occasion of +this, the first great function of the London season, and progress was a +little difficult. A gleam of satisfaction crept into Mr. Nugent's +steadily following eyes when at length the Maharajah stood bowing before +the fair young Englishwoman.</p> + +<p>The Indian Prince, a notable figure by reason of the jewelled turban +that crowned his otherwise orthodox European evening dress, gave his arm +to the girl, who greeted him with a pleasant smile of recognition, and +together the pair strolled out through one of the French windows into +the vast tropical winter-garden for which Brabazon House is celebrated. +The dusky face of the Maharajah<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> as it disappeared from view wore an +expression of ecstatic rapture that caused Mr. Nugent's thin lips to +curl in the ghost of a sneer.</p> + +<p>"His Highness won't look like that when he comes back," the watcher +muttered under his breath, as he leaned against a pillar and composed +himself to wait. Mr. Travers Nugent spent much of his life in +waiting—with the consolation of knowing that there was generally a big +stake to wait for. He was a well-built man of middle age and height, +wearing a long, fair moustache that at first sight gave him rather a +distinguished air—an impression that was, however, negatived for any +student of character by a hint of shiftiness in the close-set blue eyes.</p> + +<p>A bachelor of good family, and of no visible occupation, Travers Nugent +moved easily in the orbit of West End society. He occupied a luxurious +flat in Jermyn Street, and rented besides a pretty cottage in +Devonshire, to which he retired after the fatigues of the season. He had +a host of acquaintances, but very few intimates, and even to these +latter the source of his income was a mystery. He was vaguely supposed +to have inherited a small patrimony from an adventurous uncle who had +died in America, and to whom he sometimes jocularly referred as his +"avuncular oof-bird." As a matter of fact, there was a substratum of +truth in this, to the extent of about a hundred a year, but as Mr. +Nugent usually spent £2,000 in that period some other explanation was +needed.</p> + +<p>He could have furnished one readily, had he been so minded. He lived, +and lived well, upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> the best asset with which kindly Nature can endow +a man not otherwise provided for—a clever, subtle brain, prompt to +seize every chance that may come to it, and, failing such fortuitous +aid, equally prompt to manufacture the chances for itself. To put it +plainly, Travers Nugent lived upon his wits. A soldier of fortune, he +belonged to the commissioned ranks of the great predatory army which +sacrifices nothing to scruple, to compassion, or to honour. As cruel and +as secret as the grave, he made a very good thing of it, and on its +profits fed several unholy vices which no one knew that he possessed.</p> + +<p>For the last three months he had been acting as self-appointed +bear-leader to the arrogant Indian prince who had gone out into the +winter garden with the loveliest of all the budding débutantes of the +year upon his arm. There are many ways in which a not too scrupulous man +of the world can be of use to an Oriental potentate whose civilization +is only skin deep, and Travers Nugent had already established many +claims upon the exalted visitor's gratitude.</p> + +<p>His prophecy was quickly verified. Black thunder lowering on his swarthy +brows, the Maharajah of Sindkhote came back through the window into the +ball-room, and he came alone. Another dance was in progress now, but the +Eastern barbarian, under the veneer of Western polish, had broken loose. +Like one demented, yet with some remnants of savage dignity clinging to +him, he strode straight across the floor to where Nugent still leaned +against the pillar. The amused dancers who had to steer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> clear of his +imperious path forgave much for the priceless jewels in his turban.</p> + +<p>"Come away before I kill some one, Nugent," he said in a furious +undertone. "Come round to my rooms at once. I must consult you on a +matter of the utmost importance, in which I need your help."</p> + +<p>Travers Nugent's help was always at the disposal of those who were +willing, or could be forced, to pay for it. With the adroit tact for +which he was noted he contrived to get the excited prince out of +Brabazon House without a scene, forbearing to question him till a motor +car had borne them swiftly to the great hotel where the Maharajah was +staying. But as soon as they were alone in the dining-room of the suite +which his patron for the time being rented there escaped him the two +words—</p> + +<p>"She refused?"</p> + +<p>Bhagwan Singh, Maharajah of Sindkhote, walked unsteadily to the +sideboard and poured out half a tumbler of neat brandy. He drank it at a +gulp, and then turned to his European mentor, restored to the outward +semblance of his customary Oriental calm. A good-looking man with a pale +olive complexion, jet black moustache and features of the full-faced +Eastern type, he was by no means ill-favoured, though in his lazy eyes +there were infinite possibilities of malevolent cruelty.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, my dear Nugent, and talk," he said, tossing a gold +cigarette-case across the table. "Yes, she not only refused my offer of +marriage, but laughed at me—treated me, the descendant of a hundred +kings, as a joke. By God! I could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> have killed her twenty minutes ago, +as she stood smiling disdainfully at me among the palms. But that brandy +has steadied me for a better way. She shall be mine yet, though not as +Maharanee now. I will have my way with her, and then she shall sweep out +the harem."</p> + +<p>"That is rather a tall order, Prince," rejoined Nugent, watching the +other narrowly. "You will never accomplish that unless you kidnap her, +and to convey an unwilling maiden from England to India presents, to my +prosaic mind, a good many initial difficulties."</p> + +<p>"Difficulties? Yes, but I will give you twenty thousand pounds to help +me to surmount them. And I do not even ask you to devise the scheme for +humbling this proud Englishwoman to the dust. When you told me that +Violet Maynard would laugh me to scorn I did not believe you, but all +the same I, Bhagwan Singh, prepared a plan for meeting the contingency. +It depends, however, on one point. Has the girl a lover already?"</p> + +<p>"No; I can reassure you as to that. She has admirers, of course—with +her attractions that goes without saying. But she is perfectly +heart-whole—so far," was Nugent's reply.</p> + +<p>"Then success is certain, for I will provide her with a lover," the +Maharajah rejoined, evidently expecting an outburst of surprise at the +apparent paradox.</p> + +<p>But his cunning eyes searched Travers Nugent's face in vain for signs of +any such emotions. It was not that astute gentleman's way to show his +inmost feelings, which at the moment were an intense<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> curiosity to learn +what was expected of him in return for the enormous bribe. It was +characteristic of him that it was in his most indifferent manner that he +said:—</p> + +<p>"You are altogether too subtle for me, Maharajah, and I cannot think +that you are quite serious. If you have finished poking fun at a jaded +man about town, I think I'll go home to bed."</p> + +<p>He half rose, as if to suit the action to the word, and that was the +precise moment when the Hindoo once for all assumed the lead in the +infamous partnership that was to bind them. And Bhagwan Singh gained and +kept that mastery by the simple but efficacious expedient of throwing +off all semblance of the equality on which they had muck-raked London +together. In a blaze of haughty contempt he let his jackal see that he +was understood and appreciated at his proper value.</p> + +<p>"You are never jaded when there is plunder in view, and you have no +intention of going from here till you have heard the proposal to which +you will sit still and listen," said Bhagwan Singh, waving him with a +commanding gesture back to his chair. "It comes natural to those of +Royal blood, Mr. Nugent, to estimate truly those who serve them, and I +know that you are a useful but expensive tool, as willing to be bought +as I am to buy you. You have taught me some of your slang. I will act on +the square with you if you will act on the square with me. If I pay you +£20,000, and show you how to do it, will you, without any personal risk +to yourself, aid me in achieving the desire of my heart?"</p> + +<p>In a matter of business, and when there were no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> witnesses, there was +not much pride about Travers Nugent. He tacitly waived his position as +friend of the prince, and became his subordinate by replying:</p> + +<p>"I should like to hear your plan before I commit myself, your Highness."</p> + +<p>Now the project which the Maharajah of Sindkhote, after further recourse +to the brandy decanter, proceeded to unfold, if put forward by any +ordinary man, would have seemed on the face of it too wildly +preposterous to be entertained for a moment. But Travers Nugent was +aware that his patron's wealth was almost boundless, and that the lavish +expenditure he was prepared to incur would discount most of the +obstacles to the amazing abduction contemplated.</p> + +<p>Bhagwan Singh, it transpired, had in his service as commander of his +native body-guard a young Englishman who had been compelled by his +extravagant follies to leave the British regiment in which he had +formerly held a commission. He had incurred such debts in India that he +would have been unable to leave that country even if he had possessed +the price of a passage home, and, being thus stranded and penniless, he +had accepted a mere pittance to drill the semi-barbarous matchlockmen of +Sindkhote.</p> + +<p>"He is mine body and soul, and the wretch is nearly desperate with +home-sickness and misery," the Maharajah went on, warming as he saw that +he had gripped Nugent's attention. "There are no Europeans for him to +associate with in Sindkhote, and before his fall he was the most popular +young<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> officer at Simla and Calcutta—a good dancer, a crack shot and a +grand polo player. He is as strong and as handsome as one of the ancient +gods, and all the ladies adored him. I propose to return to India by the +next mail boat, and I shall send him home to England, so that Violet +Maynard may fall in love with him."</p> + +<p>"What good is that going to do you?" asked Nugent, though his agile mind +was already grasping the germ of the idea.</p> + +<p>"It will be the task of this Leslie Chermside to induce Miss Maynard to +elope with him on a fast steamer, ostensibly his own yacht, which I will +furnish you with the funds to charter," the Maharajah continued. "It +will be for you to select the crew and make all the arrangements, as +well as secretly supervising Chermside's courtship and diplomatically +working old Maynard so as to drive his daughter to consent to elope. +Once on board, the rest will be easy, provided the embarkation is +skilfully managed. She will make all speed round the Cape for Sindkhote, +which is a maritime state, and the thing is done."</p> + +<p>"And my twenty thousand will be paid—when?"</p> + +<p>"It will be placed to your credit the day Violet Maynard sets foot in my +dominions. In any case, you will at once be supplied with the necessary +money for preliminary expenses."</p> + +<p>Nugent rapidly reflected. Win or lose the main stake, there should be +some pretty pickings out of those preliminary expenses, and it ought not +to be difficult in the event of failure so to cover up his own +connection with the dastardly project as to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> escape unpleasant +consequences for himself. It was a tempting prospect, but there was a +flaw in the scheme from the point of view of one who would have sold his +best friend for a song.</p> + +<p>"You are sure of this fellow Chermside?" he said. "He won't play fast +and loose with you, and chuck the whole job as soon as he gets quit of +India and his embarrassments there?"</p> + +<p>Bhagwan Singh's sensual lips creased in a cruel smile. "My dear Nugent," +he said, "Mr. Leslie Chermside will not really be quit of his Indian +debts till he has served my purpose. I shall buy them up, and hold them +over him as a bond of good faith. If he shows signs of kicking over the +traces it will be for you to put on the screw—in your own way. Not that +I anticipate anything of the sort from one who has sunk as low as he +has, and I shall further secure his loyalty by the promise of a small +pension contingent on his success."</p> + +<p>Travers Nugent hesitated no longer. "Here is my hand on it," he +exclaimed with an admiration that was not wholly feigned. "It would be +flying in the face of Providence to stand out of a campaign planned on +such masterly lines. Your Highness has supplied the strategy; I will +devise the tactics."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>"A SCREW LOOSE SOMEWHERE"</h3> + + +<p>A smiling expanse of summer sea; hedges ablaze with wild flowers; the +distant moorland one vast carpet of purple heather; and near at hand, +dotted up and down on either side of a gently sloping coombe, some +scores of pretty houses set in gardens of almost tropical luxuriance. +Towards the lower end of the hill the private residences yielded pride +of place to a little main street of more commercial aspect, which +terminated in an unpretentious esplanade backed by a row of +lodging-houses fronting the beach.</p> + +<p>Westward from this spot the red cliffs shelved steadily upward till they +culminated a mile and a half away in the Flagstaff Hill, a bold headland +so called from the coastguard signal station thereon. Eastward of the +esplanade, but hidden from it by a slight eminence, lay the marsh, +formerly a broad estuary through which the river, then navigable for +several miles inland, had emptied into the sea. In these later days the +once broad river's mouth has become a mere stream by the action of a +great storm which many years ago hurled a mighty dam of pebbles across +all but a few yards of the outlet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the banks of the older watercourse remain, their steep red sides all +verdure-clad and scored with cavities, hardly to be dignified as caves, +concealed in the trailing undergrowth.</p> + +<p>Such was the general configuration of the little town of Ottermouth in +South Devon, for no fault of its own not quite a first-class seaside +resort as yet, but slowly and surely worming its way into the affections +of those who had discovered it. There was no pier, and therefore there +were but few "trippers." But in the curious blend of brand-new brick +villas and old-world houses of "cob" there dwelt men of varying +fortunes, who in their time had helped to make history, and who had +chosen this peaceful spot on the Devon coast as the one in which to end +their strenuous days.</p> + +<p>In one house you would have found a grey-headed veteran who rode into +the valley of death at Balaclava; from another there strolled out on to +the cliff front every morning to turn his dimmed eyes seaward one of the +fast dwindling band who defended the Residency at Lucknow. And there +were others of a younger generation, though also with finished careers, +who had had their share in the Empire-building of the last half-century. +There was, too, a sprinkling of rich business men, who only came to +Ottermouth in the summer time to refresh themselves after toil in great +cities.</p> + +<p>In such an earthly paradise, where no one but the clergyman and the +doctor ever pretended to do any work, there was naturally a club—as +cosy and well-managed a rendezvous of the kind as could be found in many +more populous resorts. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> permanent members were all proud of it, and +in their jealousy for its good repute were apt to regard stray visitors +admitted to temporary membership with cold criticism till they had +proved their title to more cordial consideration.</p> + +<p>The club was the last building on the seaward side of the main street—a +commanding position whence its windows on one side raked the esplanade, +while those at the rear looked out to sea. About noon on a morning +towards the middle of August three gentlemen were lounging in the +general room, smoking and chatting in desultory fashion over the latest +atrocities in <i>Punch</i>.</p> + +<p>To them suddenly entered the club steward, who approached a tall, +sun-burnt young man sitting a little apart from the others with the +announcement: "There is some one who would like to see you, sir, at the +door. I asked him into the hall, but he preferred to wait outside."</p> + +<p>"Didn't he give his name?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; but I think he's a gentleman who has been staying at the +<i>Plume Hotel</i> for the last week. I've seen him going in and out."</p> + +<p>The tall young man reared his flannel-clad limbs from the depths of his +comfortable chair, and went out, a half-stifled expression of annoyance +escaping him. He had no sooner disappeared than one of the two remaining +members, who had been leaning against the mantelpiece, with his back to +the fireless grate, strolled over to one of the French windows +overlooking the esplanade. He was an elderly man, very well groomed as +to his person and clothes, and with a pair of alert, all-devouring eyes +set<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> in an ascetic face. Mr. Vernon Mallory had put in forty years at +the Foreign Office and was now, in honourable retirement, reaping the +reward of much useful work. He was known as a shrewd observer and a keen +judge of character. It was now his pleasure, as it had once been his +business, to know all things about all men.</p> + +<p>"Chermside did not appear to be best pleased at the interruption," Mr. +Mallory remarked. "Ah, there he goes, with the disturber of his peace, +towards the marsh. I can understand his annoyance, for the man who +called him out is a most unsavoury-looking person."</p> + +<p>The other member, a fresh, clean-shaven youngster of not more than +three-and-twenty, got up and joined his senior at the window.</p> + +<p>"Who and what is this Mr. Leslie Chermside, anyhow?" he asked, after a +prolonged stare at the two receding figures. "I rather like the chap, +somehow, and yet there is a sort of shy constraint about him that is not +altogether satisfactory."</p> + +<p>"He arrived a month ago, bringing an introduction to our worthy honorary +secretary from Nugent, on the strength of which he became a temporary +member," Mr. Mallory replied, with a slight shrug of his shoulders.</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Reginald Beauchamp, at present commanding a "destroyer" +stationed at Plymouth, but spending his leave with his mother, was prone +to merriment at all times and seasons. There was a dryness in the elder +gentleman's tone which caused him to chuckle.</p> + +<p>"You were never keen on Travers Nugent, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> know," he said. "But you have +not answered my question about Chermside with your customary +enlightenment, Mr. Mallory. I asked who and what he is. My mother tells +me that he has been making strong running with a pretty girl—Miss +Maynard, I think, the name was—whose people have taken the Manor House +for the summer. You see, I only turned up last night for a short respite +from my little tin ship, so I'm all agog for the local gossip."</p> + +<p>At that moment the subject of their discussion and the man who had +called for him disappeared from view, having rounded the corner of the +slight eminence. The pair had struck into the footpath which would lead +them along the marsh under the nearer bank of the vanished estuary. Mr. +Mallory turned away from the window with an enigmatic smile for his +young naval friend.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell you what Mr. Chermside is," he said when he had produced +his cigar-case and selected a weed. "But the official Army lists—not +the ones that are quite up to date, mind you—record what he was. There +seems to be an unexplained gulf between the termination of his military +career and his presence in our midst. A hiatus, so to speak, of nearly +two years since he was an officer in the 24th Lancers undoubtedly +exists. His own account of himself is that he has recently come into +money, and that he is playing about here while awaiting the arrival of a +steam yacht on which he means to take an extended cruise. Beyond that, +both my opinion and my scanty information coincide with yours. He +strikes one as unobjectionable but reserved, and he has certainly been +dangling after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> the daughter of old Maynard, who has rented the Manor +House furnished for the season."</p> + +<p>"What is Maynard?" demanded Reggie Beauchamp with persistent interest.</p> + +<p>"A millionaire maker of screws in Birmingham."</p> + +<p>"Then it would be queer if there was a loose screw somewhere about his +daughter's admirer," Reggie rejoined, and with a boyish laugh for his +own jest he strolled off to the billiard-room in quest of a game.</p> + +<p>In the meanwhile Leslie Chermside and his companion had reached the +seclusion of the marshland path, at the same time plunging into a more +private conversation than was advisable on the frequented sea-front. On +their immediate left rose the tree-covered side, almost a miniature +cliff, of the ancient river-bed; to the right of them there stretched to +the opposite bank a quarter of a mile away the osiers and reeds that +carpeted the mud-flats. There was no one to see or hear.</p> + +<p>It did not need the presentation of a visiting card with his name on it +to disclose Mr. Levi Levison's nationality. The moment he opened his +mouth to speak he stood revealed as a Hebrew of the Hebrews, and even +before then, for apart from his lisping utterance he had all the bodily +peculiarities of his race. The full red lips, the beaky nose, and the +large conciliatory eyes that seemed to veil so much, could have belonged +to no one but a Jew. His clothes were flashy, but none too clean. In age +he was probably about thirty.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to be harsh, but s'help me, Mr. Chermside, I ain't got any +option in the matter," he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> was saying. "I've bought up your Indian debts +in the ordinary courthe of business, and I can't afford to lose on the +transaction. Here are the papers that you wanted to see. You'll find +they're all ship-shape enough. And you must pardon my remarking that +when you agreed to—er—act for the Maharajah in a certain delicate +matter I suppothe you intended to keep faith with him."</p> + +<p>Chermside took the proffered papers, glanced through and returned them. +"Oh, yes; I intended to keep faith right enough," he replied rather +wearily. "And I haven't said that I don't mean to do so, have I?"</p> + +<p>"No, you'd hardly be such a juggins as that," Mr. Levison leered, +exasperatingly. "But I've been here a week, Mr. Chermside, and kept my +eyes and ears open. I can find that things from his Highness's point of +view are 'anging fire. What's a poor struggling feller to do? I bought +up your little indiscretions in the Shining East, you see, on the +understanding that his Highness, who sold them to me, would redeem them +at a hundred per cent. advance on what I paid, directly you carried out +his wishes; but that if not I was to put the screw on in the ordinary +courthe of business. It wouldn't be nice for you to be therved with +writs and things—judgment summonses they'd soon blossom into—just when +you're enjoying yourself in a pretty place like this."</p> + +<p>Mr. Levison rolled his dark eyes over the picturesque landscape as if he +had no thought but for the beauties of Nature.</p> + +<p>Leslie Chermside made no reply, but paced on with downcast gaze.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You see, I'm a little bit in the know," Levison went on, after a +furtive glance at his tall companion's bronzed face. "Mr. Travers Nugent +came down by the late train last night, and I've had a chat with him +this morning up at that sweet little place of his—'The Hut,' he calls +it. The steamer is lying at Portland, not thirty miles away, only +waiting for you to throw your handkerchief to the girl, which, from what +I've seen, she'll pick up fast enough. And, though expense is no object, +it don't do to keep a crew of fifty toughs in harbour wondering why they +don't start on a cruise that's to end in a pile of dollars for all of +them."</p> + +<p>A spasm crossed Chermside's face, and he dug the nails of his right hand +into the palm as though he restrained some emotion with difficulty. +"There was no time limit mentioned in my engagement with the Maharajah," +he said hoarsely. "Nor did his Highness inform me that he had had my +debts assigned to him. He gave me to understand that he had paid them."</p> + +<p>Levison emitted a tantalizing laugh. "That's where the wily Hindoo had +you on toast," he rejoined. "A wise precaution in case you should for +any reason throw him over, as it begins to look as if you meant to. Your +little affair with the lady seems to blow hot and cold, Mr. Chermside, +which is why I'm pressing you a bit. Not that I'm 'ard-'earted by any +means. Take till to-morrow night to think it over, and then, if you can +give me a definite assurance that it will be all right in a week or so, +I'll 'old my 'and."</p> + +<p>Leslie Chermside breathed a sigh of relief. "Very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> well," he said, "by +that time I may have news for you. Where shall we meet? It had better be +somewhere where there is no risk of our being overheard."</p> + +<p>The Jew glanced round the lonely landscape. Even at mid-day the marsh +was deserted in favour of the superior attractions of the shore, the +golf links, and the tennis field.</p> + +<p>"We couldn't better this," he said. "There'll be a moon up, and there +won't be a soul about at ten o'clock."</p> + +<p>"That will suit excellently. I will meet you here at ten o'clock +to-morrow night," replied Chermside. "And now as I am going on to lunch +at the Manor House——"</p> + +<p>"You will be glad to get rid of yours truly," Mr. Levison interrupted. +"Righto! Mr. Chermside. I'll go back the way we came, hoping that you +will enjoy a sumptuous meal, and afterwards get a chance to put in some +vicarious courtship. So long."</p> + +<p>He turned on his heel, waving a be-ringed hand of insanitary aspect, and +Leslie Chermside strode forward along the grassy footpath. His brows +were knitted in a frown, and from time to time he shook his broad +shoulders as though to free himself from an influence that oppressed the +natural vigour of his strong frame.</p> + +<p>He was well aware that he stood at the parting of the ways, with the +disadvantage of not knowing where either of the two roads open to him +would lead, except that they pointed to dishonour and misery. It was +nearly three months now since he had been summoned to the Maharajah's +presence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> in the tawdry palace at Sindkhote, and had been offered by his +employer a way of escape from the bonds that held him in exile, in a +position little better than that of a tinselled head flunkey—an +appanage of Bhagwan Singh's barbaric splendour.</p> + +<p>The task set him had been revolting enough; it had filled him with +loathing for the gross libertine who was his tempter; but, homesick for +England and wretched in the miserable life he was leading, he had in +reckless humour yielded, hating himself while doing so even more than +the sardonic prince who was sending him home to England to commit such +an outrage on an Englishwoman. After all, he had told himself, he didn't +know the girl. Very likely she had brought her fate on herself by +flirting with Bhagwan Singh in London. So he pledged himself to the foul +errand, and sailed by the next mail-boat with a letter of introduction +to Travers Nugent.</p> + +<p>On his presenting it, Nugent had apprised him of the progress already +made in the plot, and it was by no means inconsiderable. The Manor House +at Ottermouth being to let furnished for the summer, it had not been +difficult for the Maharajah's astute agent, who had a cottage in the +little resort, to persuade Mr. Montague Maynard to take it. Indeed, the +prospect of having the brilliant Travers Nugent as a neighbour during +his holiday was in itself sufficient inducement to the wealthy screw +manufacturer to fall into the trap. All that remained for the present +was for Chermside to go down and commence operations by laying siege to +Violet Maynard's heart, Nugent promising to follow later, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> he had +perfected the arrangements for manning and victualling the swift turbine +steamer he had chartered.</p> + +<p>In sullen mood, and with rage in his heart against the cruel fate that +had made a blackguard of him, Chermside had set out on his despicable +mission. And from the very moment he had looked into Violet Maynard's +pure eyes his purpose had begun to weaken, giving place to a greater +horror of himself and the vile thing he had consented to do. If, in the +depths of his misery out yonder, he had considered the matter at all, he +had considered it in the shadowy abstract, as a means of escape from the +hell-upon-earth exile he was enduring. But here in England, and in touch +with the charming personality of his intended victim, the scales were +lifted from his moral vision, and he was left face to face with the +enormity of his contemplated offence.</p> + +<p>Yet his honour, if the word could be used in such a connexion, "rooted +in dishonour stood," for he had pledged himself for what he believed to +be valuable consideration to go through with the iniquity. For the first +few days of his stay in Ottermouth he adhered rigidly to his contract. +He presented the letters of introduction with which Travers Nugent had +furnished him, and freely accepted Montague Maynard's lavish +hospitality. He posed as a gallant gentleman, and paid attentions to +Violet which the gossips of the links and the tennis field described as +"marked." And then as suddenly as he had apparently caught fire he +apparently cooled. The spurious, perverted sense of duty which for a +week or two kept him loyal to his tempter was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> shattered by a stronger +force that would not be denied.</p> + +<p>Violet's friendship, frankly given as to an equal properly accredited, +her winsome ways, the careless abandon of a girl who trusted and +evidently liked him, had conquered his heart.</p> + +<p>Leslie Chermside was honestly in love with the woman whom he was pledged +to entrap for delivery like a bale of goods to that sinister Oriental +satyr, waiting in the palace at Sindkhote seven thousand miles away for +the fulfilment of his mission. By the irony of fate, his love for the +girl whom he had been hired to destroy was the first true passion of his +life, and by the same strange kink in fortune's chain the first effect +was to cause him to repress all semblance of love.</p> + +<p>How could he do otherwise, when by no possibility could the suit of such +a penniless wastrel as himself be crowned with success? And as to +continuing his attentions on behalf of Bhagwan Singh—well, he felt that +he would cheerfully give many years of his life to wipe that vile +episode from the page of his memory. So for the past week he had just +drifted, avoiding any approach to more intimate relations, but loth to +leave altogether the shrine at which it had been balm to his bruised +heart to worship.</p> + +<p>And now in some shape the end must come to the bitter-sweet interlude. +The appearance of the Jew Levison on the scene left no room for doubt +that if he refused to proceed with the Maharajah's dirty work, he would +not be allowed to strut in false feathers much longer.</p> + +<p>"I can have but one answer for that swine to-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>morrow night, and then he +will take measures to wreak upon me Bhagwan Singh's revenge," he told +himself, as he quitted the marshland and struck into the road that +presently brought him to the lodge gates of the Manor House.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>PRESAGE OF STORM</h3> + + +<p>Ottermouth Manor was a place of importance in the county, and was only +let furnished because its noble owner possessed so many other seats in +different parts of the kingdom that for the moment he had no use for it. +It is a practical age, and no one is so highly placed that he cannot +without loss of dignity turn the nimble sixpence. The genial peer who +had recently inherited the Manor, together with most of the ground-rents +of the surrounding district, was no exception to the rule, and he had no +objection to having his great rambling mansion and its appurtenances +"kept up" at some one else's expense.</p> + +<p>The consequence was that Mr. Montague Maynard found himself housed for +the summer almost <i>en prince</i>. Not that he was unaccustomed to luxury. +Both in his splendid modern villa at Harborne, whence a thousand pound +Mercedes car rushed him daily to his office in Birmingham, and at his +London house in Park Lane, where he spent six weeks in the spring, he +wanted for nothing that money can do for the assuagement of the sordid +side of a commercial magnate's life. But at neither of those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> palatial +abodes could he enjoy the sense of space, the glamour of feudal +importance, and the pretence at majestic isolation which were included +in the heavy rental he paid for the privilege of occupying Ottermouth +Manor House.</p> + +<p>It was approached on one side by a long carriage-drive under an avenue +of ancient elms, and halfway up this Leslie Chermside saw three people +advancing towards him—a rather incongruous trio. No need for him to +look twice at the tall girl in the simple white blouse swinging along +with the graceful vigour of youth a little behind the other two. The +sight of her set his pulses beating, for it was Violet Maynard herself, +and Leslie felt sick with remorse at the glad smile of recognition she +gave him. The remaining pair in this strangely-assorted party consisted +of a diminutive old lady severely dressed in black, and of a +foreign-looking man wearing ragged blue cotton trousers, who slouched +along barefooted, carrying over his shoulder a stick from which +depended several strings of onions.</p> + +<p>The old lady appeared to be driving the foreigner before her at the +point of her sunshade, while Violet entered an occasional half-laughing +protest against her proceedings.</p> + +<p>Chermside raised his hat as he drew near, and with a torrent of abuse +and a final prod of her sunshade, the owner of the latter abandoned +the pursuit, the two ladies turning to walk back to the house with the +invited guest.</p> + +<p>"No wonder you are astonished at Aunt Sarah's behaviour, Mr. Chermside," +said Violet gaily. "She has been frightening that poor French +onion-seller<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> out of his wits and warning him off the premises for some +reason that I have been unable to prevail on her to disclose."</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure that Miss Dymmock would be actuated by no reason but a +good one," Chermside replied politely. "I will wager that she had +received strong provocation, and that the castigation I was privileged +to witness was thoroughly deserved."</p> + +<p>The little old lady, who was rapidly regaining her temper, cast a +grateful glance at the speaker. At the commencement of their as yet +short acquaintance she had taken a genuine liking for the handsome young +soldier, and she had the firmest faith in her intuitions. Miss Sarah +Dymmock was a personage to be reckoned with in the Maynard household. +The aunt of Violet's mother, Montague Maynard's late wife, she had +brought the girl up from childhood, and had incidentally governed the +screw manufacturer's establishment with a rod of iron. Having a large +fortune in her own right, and being suspected of a carefully-veiled +kindness, her many eccentricities were forgiven her by those who knew +her best.</p> + +<p>"That's right, Mr. Chermside; I like a man who can stick up for an ugly +old woman," she chuckled. "It's a pity a gallant gentleman of your sort +didn't come my way when I was a lass, for I might have been a +great-grandmother, instead of only great-aunt, to an impudent chit of a +girl who has no respect for age—and venerableness. Well, I am +venerable, ain't I?" she added, stopping and stamping her foot at +Violet's merry laugh.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, dearest Auntie; you are more than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> that—you are truly +terrible at times," said the girl.</p> + +<p>"I mean to be," Miss Dymmock continued austerely, resuming her progress. +"As to my reason for chasing that monkey-faced Frenchy out of the +grounds, I shall say nothing—nothing at all till I have laid the facts +before Mr. Travers Nugent, who is, I believe, to join us at lunch. I +don't like Travers Nugent, mind you. But he is a man of the world, and I +value his opinion as such. Personally, I wouldn't trust him with a +shilling."</p> + +<p>This was evidently the old lady's last word on the subject, but the +rather awkward silence that ensued was due chiefly to the manner of her +allusion to Nugent. Violet was rendered uncomfortable by her outspoken +bluntness, because she knew that Leslie Chermside owed his presence +amongst them to the introduction he had brought from the man so openly +disparaged. And Leslie was ill at ease from the immediate prospect of +having to meet one whom he had hitherto regarded as his partner in +infamy, but from whom in his awakened repentance it would be his duty to +dissociate himself at the earliest possible moment.</p> + +<p>During the two or three days he had spent in London on his arrival from +India he had neither been repelled nor attracted by the smooth-spoken +gentleman who had taken him in tow. Beyond the brief discussion +necessary to the elaboration of their arrangements Nugent had been far +too wary to indulge in useless harping on the scheme in hand. It was not +his cue to emphasize the heartless villainy of their compact. Indeed, he +dismissed the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> moral aspect of the affair in a slurred and utterly +mendacious justification, hinting that Violet Maynard had only herself +to thank for having played fast and loose with the Maharajah. He even +suggested that she had been really partial to the handsome Oriental, and +would speedily become reconciled.</p> + +<p>The black business being thus by mutual consent relegated to the +background, Nugent had laid himself out to be a pleasant host without +allowing it to be seen that he was making a minute study of the young +man upon whom his own bribe would so largely depend. Leslie had not +thought very much about him, except as one of the figures in what seemed +more like a bad dream than reality.</p> + +<p>But now all that was changed, and the personality of Bhagwan Singh's +English wire-puller had for him a sinister significance. He had no doubt +that the Cockney Jew Levison was acting in collusion with the more +cultured scoundrel, and he wondered how the latter would take his +revolt. Not kindly, that was fairly certain; but Leslie could not see +how Nugent could injure him beyond inflicting the cunningly-provided +punishment of financial ruin which he was powerless to resist. He could +not expose the conspiracy without confessing his own part in it, and he +felt that he would cheerfully prefer death to so abasing himself in +Violet's eyes. At present his intention was to bask in the sunshine of +fictitious happiness for one more day and then vanish to South America, +New Zealand—anywhere where a pair of strong arms could provide him with +bread.</p> + +<p>The opportunity for revolt was on him sooner than he expected. When they +reached the Manor House<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> Mr. Maynard was at the hall door in the act of +welcoming Nugent, who had arrived in his car, entering the park by the +north lodge. The brilliant man-about-town turned to the ladies with +effusion, receiving a courteous greeting from Violet and a sniff from +Aunt Sarah, who, however, as she passed into the hall deigned to fling +back at him: "You are as full of mischief as a ripe cheese is of +maggots. I am going to take your opinion on a piece of mischief +presently."</p> + +<p>Mr. Maynard, a stout, florid man of sixty, gave a great guffaw. "The old +girl always had her knife into you, Nugent," he roared, "but, like all +the rest of 'em, she can't do without you. Maggots in cheese! Lord love +me, what'll she say next."</p> + +<p>He turned away to direct the chauffeur to the stable-yard, and Chermside +drew Nugent aside, saying, in a rapid whisper—</p> + +<p>"I am not going on with the damned thing!"</p> + +<p>Travers Nugent, if he felt surprise, did not show it; nor was there any +annoyance in his gently-murmured question: "You have counted the cost, I +presume? You understand what defection will entail?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; that beast Levison has taken care of that," replied Chermside. +"I am to meet him to-morrow night on the marsh at ten o'clock to give +him my final answer. But that was only to secure a day's respite, +and—and take leave of my friends. My mind is quite made up. I shall +withdraw, and let him do his worst."</p> + +<p>Again there was no trace of disappointment in Nugent's reception of this +definite retirement. For an instant his right hand caressed his long, +fair<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> moustache, while his cold blue eyes rested meditatively on the +slightly-flushed face of the recalcitrant, but the only note in his +voice was one of unselfish concern as he said——</p> + +<p>"I am afraid you will find it very unpleasant, but I suppose that if you +have scruples you are right to act on them."</p> + +<p>There was no time for more, for Montague Maynard, having seen to the +bestowal of the car and the chauffeur, came bustling back and conducted +his two guests to the dining-room, where the ladies joined them at the +luncheon table. Chermside managed to secure a seat next Violet, but in +such a small party there was no chance for intimate conversation. On the +whole, he was glad of it, for after to-day—to-morrow at latest—it was +improbable that he would ever see again the girl upon whom he would have +inflicted such deadly wrong. Even now, in the midst of lightest chatter, +she stabbed him over and over again with the frank confidence in her +trusting eyes. He felt with a shudder that if he had pursued his fell +mission to the end it would have been crowned with a horrible success.</p> + +<p>Already his punishment had begun; he loved the woman whom he would have +destroyed, and in a few hours he must say good-bye to her for ever. Yes, +he was thankful that Aunt Sarah's quips and cranks, and Travers Nugent's +scintillating small-talk rattled like musketry fire to the exclusion of +all else.</p> + +<p>Once or twice he stole a look at the man to whom Bhagwan Singh had +accredited him—natty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> in his grey summer tweeds, perfectly +self-possessed and brimming over with tit-bits of harmless society +gossip. Nugent's eyes were not prone to laughter, but his lips were, and +they were laughing almost unceasingly now. Leslie Chermside wondered if +this was altogether natural, or was it a pose designed to cover deeper +emotions? The man had undoubtedly received a set-back in the last +half-hour in the displacement of a programme that must have cost him +much intricate scheming. The chartering of that steamer lying at +Portland ready for her prey, and the engagement of a crew sufficiently +unscrupulous, could have been no light work. How was it, then, that +Nugent could accept with complacency the overthrow of the plan? Had he +still hopes of success by some devious method at present carefully +concealed?</p> + +<p>Leslie comforted himself that that could not be. The steamer might rot +at her moorings and the crew mutiny before any signal for her movement +should come from him, and he would take good care before he vanished +into the unknown that the same game should not be played with some pawn +less susceptible than himself. He would anonymously warn Mr. Maynard of +the Maharajah's design to kidnap his daughter, doing it in such a way +that he should not be identified with the first abortive attempt. He +clung desperately to the hope that he might remain a congenial memory to +the unsuspecting girl at his side.</p> + +<p>As soon as the butler and his satellites had served coffee and retired, +Miss Sarah Dymmock straightened herself in her chair, and, with a +bird-like glance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> and a shake of her grey curls, prodded her finger at +Nugent.</p> + +<p>"Now, you high priest of intrigue, I will consult your judgment," was +her startling commencement. "The question is, was I right or wrong to +eject from the grounds of this mansion an unwashed foreigner whom I +caught using violent and insulting language to the French maid whose +services I share with my great-niece?"</p> + +<p>"When I came upon the scene it was Auntie who was using violent and +insulting language to the unwashed foreigner," Violet remarked demurely.</p> + +<p>"Silence, minx," the old lady retorted. "I found the maid, Louise Aubin, +in tears in the shrubbery walk, with the creature bullying and +threatening her. She explained that the fellow, who is one of the +onion-sellers from a French lugger recently arrived at Exmouth full of +similar vermin, knew her at her home in Normandy, and was, in fact, her +lover there. On discovering her here by accident while disposing of his +wares, he wanted to renew the old relations, and has been hanging about +for the last month with that intention. He has found out that during the +last week Louise has been coquetting with some summer visitor staying in +the town. She did not mention this second Lothario's name, but I +gathered that he was putting up at the <i>Plume Hotel</i>."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Nugent, who had been listening politely, "that does not tell +us much, for I was informed this morning that the <i>Plume</i> is full to +overflowing just now. Well, dear lady, I cannot presume to criticise +your drastic measures. It seems to me to depend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> on Mademoiselle Aubin's +inclinations. If she prefers the Frenchman, you have acted somewhat +severely; if the gentleman at the <i>Plume</i> is the favoured swain, you +have played the good mistress in protecting your servant from a +nuisance."</p> + +<p>Aunt Sarah, quaintly valuing the opinion of the man she disliked, nodded +reflectively. "I'll find out which she likes best," she said. "It won't +be the foreigner, I think, she being a girl of sense. She'd be as silly +as Violet would have been if she'd accepted that blackamoor who had the +impudence to propose to her at the beginning of the London season."</p> + +<p>Montague Maynard let off one of his mighty bellows. "That was cheek if +you like," he said, "though my little girl very soon sent him off with a +flea in his ear. But you are forgetting, Aunt Sarah, that the boot was +on the other leg in the case that made the Maharajah of Sindkhote the +laughing-stock of London. The onion-seller is a compatriot of his +inamorata. By the way, Nugent—you were pretty thick with his +Highness—how did he take his knock-out?"</p> + +<p>Travers Nugent looked across the table at Leslie Chermside through the +wealth of hot-house flowers, pondering his reply with greater +deliberation than it seemed to demand.</p> + +<p>"As you know," he said at length, "the Maharajah left England within a +few days of the ball at Brabazon House, where I understood that his +discomfiture took place. I saw very little of him in the interval. Like +all men worthy of the name who have set out to win a great prize and +have met with failure, he was not one to admit defeat."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hear that, Vi?" said the screw manufacturer, rising. "His Highness +means to come back and have another try next season. There'll be a +chance for you to be the pride of the harem yet, if you choose to think +better of it."</p> + +<p>Violet's laugh, as she also rose to join in the general movement, rang +out merrily, proving how lightly she had treated Bhagwan's wooing—how +little she realized the smouldering danger that lurked for her in the +steamer at Portland, lying ready to snatch her from peaceful Ottermouth +to undreamed of horrors in the unspeakable East.</p> + +<p>"I hope he won't trouble," she said lightly. "I let him down easy last +time, but if it occurs again I shall have to be rude."</p> + +<p>Leslie Chermside, following out of the dining-room, felt a prescience of +coming peril for the beautiful speaker, and it was apart and separate +from the plot in which he was to have taken such an ignoble part. From +himself he knew that she would never have aught but loving fealty, and, +so far as in him lay, protection. But in Nugent's words, uttered with +such seeming carelessness, yet so well considered, there had, he could +have sworn, sounded a note of menace, intended to be subtly conveyed to +himself, that defeat was not admitted.</p> + +<p>And the pity of it was that in a day or two at most he must fly from +Ottermouth, unless he remained to be branded by that dirty little Jew as +an impostor. In either case, his championship would be a sorry thing to +stand between Violet Maynard and the fresh devices he feared were +already hatching in Travers Nugent's cunning brain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>NUGENT MOVES A PAWN</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Nugent did not seek further private speech with Leslie Chermside +while he remained at the Manor House. He acted in every respect as +though he accepted the young man's renunciation as final, and after a +saunter through the exquisite gardens with his host, asked that his car +might be brought round. Having only reached Ottermouth the previous +evening, he explained there were many things that claimed his attention +at home.</p> + +<p>"All right, dear boy," said Montague Maynard in his loud jolly voice. +"Run out and see us whenever you can tear yourself away from golf and +the delights of the Ottermouth Club. Old Sarah Dymmock hates you like +the devil, but she don't bite so long as people don't want to hurt my +little Violet, and she's a good sportswoman. And you're too good a +sportsman yourself to mind an old woman's whims."</p> + +<p>"I thoroughly understand Miss Dymmock, and I have the most profound +regard for her," responded Nugent cordially. "There is never likely to +be any serious matter at issue between us, but if there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> were I should +be very sorry to have to cross swords with her."</p> + +<p>Yet his thin lips curled in a dreamy smile as he was whirled away in the +serviceable little Darracq which had been presented to him by a titled +idiot in gratitude for an introduction that had eventually ruined him.</p> + +<p>"I hardly think that Miss Sarah Dymmock, useful as she has proved this +morning, will loom on the horizon of present interests," he murmured +softly to himself when he had directed his chauffeur to drive him home.</p> + +<p>During the six minutes which it took to cover the distance from the +Manor House into the town Nugent closed his eyes and leaned back, +indifferent to the autumn glories of the fair Devon landscape. The +fern-girt lanes, with occasional peeps of the blue sea and the red point +at the mouth of the river, the golden harvest-fields, the lush orchards +with their drooping loads of cider apples, the old cob-built +farmsteads—all these flashed past him unheeded as he sat with folded +arms wrapped in deepest reverie.</p> + +<p>But when the car took the steep dip at the eastern end of the parade, +and the road, first on one side only and then on both, became flanked +with houses, he braced himself for social amenities. People were about +in plenty, mostly known to him, and many of them eager for recognition +by the cool-looking gentleman in the car who had the reputation of being +a personage in London society. Nearly all the ladies of Ottermouth, at +any rate, were proud of their Travers Nugent, and rejoiced greatly that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +for a month or two in the year he deigned to sojourn in their midst. And +the dowdier the ladies and the less he had to do with them the prouder +were they.</p> + +<p>But the dowdy ladies at Ottermouth were an insignificant minority. +Certainly not to be classed in that category was the winsome maiden, +dressed in immaculate white flannel and carrying a tennis racquet, to +whom Nugent raised his soft grey hat as the car struck into the main +street. A vision of dainty, if very youthful, loveliness, Enid Mallory +was smart from the crown of her well-poised little head to the soles of +her natty shoes. She returned Nugent's bow with a trace of brusqueness, +and immediately turned and made a grimace at the clean-shaven young +fellow who was with her. Nugent, though not intending to do so, saw the +grimace out of the tail of his eye, and frowned slightly when the car +had passed.</p> + +<p>"Old Mallory's daughter," he murmured. "She has done her hair up and +lengthened her dress since last year, and she appears to have been +infected with the paternal antipathy. I must not forget that Mr. Vincent +Mallory, formerly of the Foreign Office, is a resident in this Arcadian +spot. He might, under certain circumstances, become a factor to be +reckoned with."</p> + +<p>Aloud he said to his chauffeur, who had come down with the car some days +in advance: "Dixon, do you know who that young gentleman was who was +walking with Miss Mallory?"</p> + +<p>"It's Mr. Beauchamp, sir," was the reply. "Son of Mrs. Beauchamp, who +lives in Lorne Villas.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> He's a lieutenant in the Navy, I've heard, +commanding a torpedo-boat at Plymouth. He is at home on leave just at +present, sir."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Dixon; you are always a mine of information," Nugent said +with the suave urbanity he always used towards inferiors.</p> + +<p>But under his breath he added, "A curious combination, and one that may +be worth watching."</p> + +<p>The house in which Mr. Travers Nugent enjoyed his summer leisure lay on +the hill beyond the western limits of the town. Though he spoke of it as +a cottage, it was really a luxurious bachelor abode, standing in a +secluded garden and removed from the main road to Exmouth by a +serpentine drive, not, of course, to be compared with the noble avenue +at the Manor House, but long enough to separate the owner of The Hut +from the madding crowd by quite a respectable distance.</p> + +<p>Descending at his front door, Mr. Nugent passed through a porch +smothered in purple clematis into a small, square hall, deliciously cool +and shaded. Here he was met by a quiet-looking man of middle age, with a +face like a sphinx, and wearing a black cutaway coat. Nugent was not +one to make his confidential servant the receptacle of more secrets than +he could help, but he knew that if he chose to do so this +personification of reticence and discretion would never betray them.</p> + +<p>"Well, Sinnett?" he said. They neither of them wasted words at any time +in their communications.</p> + +<p>"I heard the car, sir," was the reply. "I know you like to be prepared +for visitors. Mr. Levison is waiting to see you in the smoke-room."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good! I will see him directly," said Nugent, glancing at the closed +door of the room indicated. Then, dropping his voice, he added, "Come +out into the porch a moment."</p> + +<p>The effect of this manœuvre was to place them beyond all chance of +being overheard from the smoking-room, though the conversation was +nevertheless continued with all precaution.</p> + +<p>"I want you to go into Exmouth at once," said Nugent. "Dixon will take +you in the car. At the quay you will find one of those French luggers +which come over laden with onions to be peddled about the country by the +crew. Inquire for a man named Pierre Legros, and tell him that I will +buy as many strings of onions as he can carry if he will bring them over +during the evening."</p> + +<p>"Very good, sir," replied the manservant, who had absorbed the lucid but +inexplicable instructions without the quiver of an eyelash. "Does Legros +know you, sir?"</p> + +<p>"He has never heard of me, nor I of him till this morning. I imagine, +though, that the prospect of a good sale will bring him here. If, +however, he demurs at all you might say that I have news to his +advantage in connection with the Manor House. You understand, of course, +Sinnett, that I am not really in need of onions?"</p> + +<p>"You want the man, sir?"</p> + +<p>"I must have the man."</p> + +<p>With which the master of The Hut turned away in the certainty that he +would get what he wanted, and, recrossing the hall, entered his +cosy-smoking-room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah, Levison! Sorry to have kept you waiting," was his urbanely offhand +greeting to the little Jew who rose obsequiously from a big easy-chair. +"I have been lunching at the Manor House, and as I met Mr. Chermside +there I am able to forestall your report. He tells me that he intends to +kick over the traces."</p> + +<p>"Prethithely what he told me, Mr. Nugent, sir," replied the Hebrew. "And +I reckon he means it. Though I'm only in the pawnbroking line, and an +assistant at that, I flatter mythelf I played the blooming financier up +to the nines, but he was as stubborn as Balaam's talking moke. He ain't +given me his final answer, yet, though. I'm to meet him to-morrow night +for that."</p> + +<p>"So he said, and you must keep the appointment and do your level best to +make him change his mind," Nugent went on. "You are a clever little +chap, and I shouldn't be surprised if you succeeded. Mr. Leslie +Chermside is suffering from a qualm of conscience which may be only +transitory if you paint the alternative in sufficiently lurid colours."</p> + +<p>"S'elp me, sir, but you can rely on me to rub it in thick."</p> + +<p>"I am sure of that, though, by the way, I heard to-day that you have not +been without your relaxations here while acting as my spy-glass," +rejoined Nugent with an amused laugh. "How about the pretty lady's-maid +at the Manor House, eh?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Levison gazed at the speaker in blind consternation, but, finding +nothing but playful tolerance in his employer's manner, he admitted the +soft impeachment—boastfully, as is the way of such vulgar +lady-killers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You're a fair caution, sir," he sniggered. "It licks me how you got +hold of that; but there! you get hold of most things. The time was +'anging a bit 'eavy, you see, sir, and she's a dressy little bit of +French goods. No 'arm done, I spothe, as it didn't interfere with +business?"</p> + +<p>"No harm whatever, Levison," said Nugent kindly. "I only mentioned it to +show you what a paternal interest I take in your doings. Those who serve +me well have no cause to be dissatisfied with the rewards they earn, and +you will be no exception to the rule. Only don't relax your efforts with +Chermside. Keep the appointment with him to-morrow night, and turn the +screw till he squirms. Maybe he'll see reason yet."</p> + +<p>And having fortified his visitor with whisky and a good cigar, Mr. +Nugent put a graceful finish to his hospitality by conducting him to a +side gate that led from the garden on to the moor.</p> + +<p>"You came in this way?" he said carelessly as he opened the gate. "That +is right. I want you to be particular about that whenever you have +occasion to see me. It might complicate matters if your connection with +me got to be talked of in this gossipy place."</p> + +<p>"Dull little 'ole, I call it," commented Mr. Levison as he prepared to +cross the purple heather. "Couldn't have stuck it for a week, I don't +think, if it hadn't have been for Louise Aubin. A gent must amuse +himself, and one misses the music-'alls. Well, so long, sir; I'll let +Chermside 'ave it 'ot to-morrow night."</p> + +<p>Nugent watched the mean-looking figure go stum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>bling along the moorland +track on a detour towards the town, and then, the acid smile on his +lips in curious contrast with the thoughtful frown on his brows, he +turned back into the house. He was the most abstemious of men, but on +reaching his den he poured out a fairly strong brandy and soda and drank +it at a draught.</p> + +<p>"It's a big stake for reclaiming the rebel," he muttered. "But I think +it will work out right if Sinnett's mission pans out properly."</p> + +<p>But presently, when the laconic manservant returned with his report that +Pierre Legros would deliver several strings of onions during the +evening, there was nothing in the manner of the master to denote whether +he was satisfied or not.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Sinnett. Take care that he does not go away without my +seeing him," was all that Mr. Travers Nugent vouchsafed in reply.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>UNDER THE SEARCHLIGHT</h3> + + +<p>"So that is Nugent, the London chap who lives at The Hut?" said +Lieutenant Beauchamp, when the car had flashed past. "Why do you +accentuate the information by making such disgustingly ugly faces, +Pussy?"</p> + +<p>Miss Enid Mallory tossed her dainty head in mock indignation. "You are +perfectly horrid, Mr. Beauchamp," she snapped at him. "As if I could +make an ugly face if I tried ever so. And I won't have you calling me +Pussy—now that I'm grown up."</p> + +<p>"Grown up, is it, the little spitfire?" grinned the young sailor. "And I +am to be Mr. Beauchamp, am I? Well, we used to be Reggie and Pussy when +I was at home last, and, whatever you may do, the force of habit will be +too strong for me. Even if I try to conquer it, which I shan't."</p> + +<p>"That was three years ago, before you went to China," retorted Enid with +dignity.</p> + +<p>"What's the difference? We're neither of us very old yet, though I'm not +sure I didn't like you better with a pigtail down your back than with +all that crinkly bulge round your ears. However, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> be serious, and +stick to our muttons—what's the matter with Nugent?"</p> + +<p>"Father doesn't like him," replied Enid, still inclined to ride the high +horse.</p> + +<p>"I know that Mr. Mallory doesn't like him, but why not?" persisted +Reggie. "I have the greatest regard for your father's judgment in all +things. He is invariably right in his conclusions, but he is so jolly +reticent as to how he arrives at them. I saw in the club this morning, +when Nugent's name cropped up, that he didn't cotton to the johnny, but +he refused to be drawn on the subject."</p> + +<p>Enid was mollified at last, as she always was by any tribute to the +acumen of the parent whom she adored.</p> + +<p>"I don't know his reason," she said, as they turned to retrace their +steps along the parade. "But father, till he retired, was at the Foreign +Office, as you are aware, and in the course of his duties he learned all +sorts of secrets and came in contact with all sorts of shady men. I +fancy his antipathy dates back to something that occurred during his +official career, but you might as well try to open an oyster with your +fingers as induce him to divulge what he knows."</p> + +<p>Reggie Beauchamp nodded, really more interested in the sprightly hoyden +he was talking to than in the subject of their conversation. "I see," he +said. "If that's the way you figure it out, I shall be aware of Mr. +Travers Nugent when I meet him at the club. If he's a dark horse he +might rook me at billiards or bridge. I am obliged to you for this +warning, Miss Mallory. You have probably saved an unsophisti<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>cated +sailor from premature ruin and a suicide's grave."</p> + +<p>Enid glanced up at him, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Bother Mr. +Nugent!" she exclaimed. "Now that you have addressed me with proper +respect, you may call me Pussy again if you wish—till you misbehave +again."</p> + +<p>So for the next half-hour they reverted to earlier nomenclature, and +forgot to play at quarrelling as they wandered up and down by the summer +sea. And when at length they parted, Enid to go home to pour out tea for +her blind mother, and Reggie to enter the club, they lightly made an +appointment which was to have its grim bearing on the tale that has yet +to be told.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Miss Mallory," said the Lieutenant, with feigned solemnity. +"I have to go into Exeter to-morrow to try on some new uniforms, and +to-night I must stay at home and help the mater entertain a wretched +curate whom she has invited to dinner. But I shall be at large to-morrow +evening. What about a prowl along the shore or up the marsh? We might +renew hostilities, and get some sort of a notion which of us is really +right in the matter of our Christian names. I may change my mind, and +come to the conclusion that you are, after all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, may you, indeed, Reggie?" replied the girl, and with a roguish +laugh she ran away without saying whether or no she would meet him. But +he was familiar with his former playmate's impish ways, and it was in +sublime confidence that the appointment would be kept that he loitered +about on the seafront on the evening of the following day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>Sure enough, a little after nine, when the sunset glow still lingered in +the western sky, Miss Enid's white-clad figure was seen threading its +way through the loungers on the parade. It was a beautiful evening, and +the junior section of residents and visitors were about in plenty. Young +men and maidens, hatless and in evening dress, strolled up and down the +asphalte side-walk between the coastguard station and the club, for +the most part chattering of the handicaps in the forthcoming tennis +tournament, while some few exceptions, too busy making eyes at each +other for such frivolity, worshipped at the love-god's shrine. Such +public worship, however, has ever been considered bad form at +Ottermouth, except among septuagenarians and the rosy-cheeked couples +who on Sundays "walk out" together in the country lanes.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was because of this unwritten law of the place that Reggie +Beauchamp and Enid Mallory, having duly greeted each other with flippant +discourtesy, but having the germ of quite another sentiment in their +irresponsible hearts, intuitively turned their steps to the further end +of the parade, and came to a halt at the spot where the struggle between +the feeble efforts of the urban council and the giant forces of nature +ceased. In front lay the bank of shingle across the former river's +mouth; to the left stretched the sedge-covered, dyke-sected bed of the +old estuary.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go back to the parade or take a turn up the marsh?" asked +Reggie. And then, without waiting for a reply, he added, "By Jingo! Look +out to sea. There is a cruiser—the <i>Terrible</i>, I think, or one of her +class."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>Enid followed the direction of his pointing finger, and in the +fast-fading twilight saw the great four-funnelled monster steaming +slowly about two miles out at sea. Even as they looked, the big warship +became little more than a huge blurred shape, barely discernible in the +darkness that was swiftly blotting out land and sea.</p> + +<p>"Well, she won't bite, I suppose," said the girl carelessly.</p> + +<p>"No, but she might bark," laughed the Lieutenant. "I expect she's out +for night practice with her heavy guns—with blank charges, of course."</p> + +<p>The young people quickly lost interest in the ship, and, turning aside, +struck into the path traversed by Leslie Chermside and Levison on the +morning of the preceding day. It was raised above the level of the +mud-flats which skirted it on the right; on the other side rose the +umbrageous bank of the old water-course, increasing the shadows in which +they walked.</p> + +<p>Presently Enid's hand stole under her companion's arm, and they glided +naturally into the frank comradeship which had prevailed between them +long before the mutual banter which they had lately affected, and which +was probably due to a desire to conceal the first stirrings of something +stronger than a boy-and-girl attachment. They were both of the age when +young folk are supremely susceptible, but have a self-conscious dread of +being thought so. Out here on the marsh, in the kindly mantle of a +moonless summer night, they could enjoy the pleasure of propinquity +without fear of being laughed at.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let's sit down here for a bit while I smoke a cigarette," said Reggie, +when they had gone half a mile along the marsh. "It is the old ambush, +as we called it, where we used to picnic when I was a middy and you were +a kid."</p> + +<p>He ran down the side of the raised path into a little glade formed by +some dwarf oaks at the base of the miniature cliff, and Enid followed, +seating herself on the low-growing branch of one of the trees. It was +quite dark now—so dark that though they were very close to the path +they had quitted, they could not be seen from it. Even in daylight they +would have been invisible behind their leafy screen.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you executed that manœuvre because you heard the footsteps +behind us," said Enid in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Footsteps? I didn't hear any," replied Reggie.</p> + +<p>"Hush! Don't speak. You can hear them now."</p> + +<p>The sound of hurrying feet was distinctly audible now from the path, and +a moment later a man—the heavy tread left no doubt that it was a +man—went by. He was almost running, and they could hear his quick +breathing, but it was impossible to tell whether he was tall or short, +young or old, rich or poor, in the inky blackness that had swallowed up +the marsh.</p> + +<p>"A telegraph boy taking a short cut to the Manor House," suggested Enid +when the steps had died away.</p> + +<p>"Too late for that—the office closed two hours ago," replied Reggie +Beauchamp carelessly. "More<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> likely some poacher who has been setting +snares for rabbits, and thought he heard a keeper behind him. The +Ottermouth fishermen used to be precious handy with a bit of copper wire +and a bootlace."</p> + +<p>The brief interruption passed from their minds, and they had been +chattering for about ten minutes when once again the silence of the +marsh was broken by the sound of advancing steps. This time the wayfarer +came along in more leisurely fashion, and in this case also it was +possible to guess from the heavy footfall that the passer by was a man. +Perhaps a minute elapsed, and then, just as the young people were +becoming absorbed in each other again, there came from further along the +marsh—that is to say, from the direction to which both the successive +pedestrians had been proceeding—a sudden sharp cry, ending in a +long-drawn wail.</p> + +<p>"What on earth was that?" exclaimed Enid, jumping down from her bough.</p> + +<p>"Goodness knows," laughed the careless sailor. "Either a bereaved cow or +a curlew suffering from nightmare. Sit down again, Pussy; it was nothing +to worry about."</p> + +<p>"It struck me as being distinctly human," said Enid doubtfully, but she +swung herself back into the tree, willing to be convinced that there was +nothing wrong, rather than terminate a <i>tête-à-tête</i> that was rapidly +gliding into a flirtation. Another pleasant quarter of an hour slipped +by, and then at the beats of a distant clock in the town striking +half-past ten she dropped from her perch.</p> + +<p>"I must be getting back, or father will be wonder<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>ing what has become of +me," she said as she made for the entrance of their lair.</p> + +<p>Reggie's detaining hand fell on her arm.</p> + +<p>"Half a second," he said. "There is some one coming along the path—one +of those chaps who went by returning, perhaps. Better let him get ahead, +whoever he is, before we break cover. We don't want company on our way +back."</p> + +<p>So they waited in the shadows, listening to the oncoming footsteps till +the man who caused them was nearly opposite their hiding-place in the +little glade. His identity was nothing to them; they had no thought but +to enjoy their homeward stroll without having to tread too closely on +the heels of any inconvenient outsider.</p> + +<p>And then, suddenly, far out at sea a great shaft of light shot skyward, +and, after steadying itself in a perpendicular gleam, swooped down upon +the marsh, moving to and fro across the broad expanse, prying out its +secret places and showing up each reed and sedge in an electric glare, +that was twice as effective as lightning because it dwelt longer on its +objectives. At first the radiant tongue played on the opposite side of +the marsh, then it flickered on the central wastes, and finally darted +on to the path close to Reggie and Enid just as the man they had heard +advancing passed by.</p> + +<p>Unseen themselves in the thicket, they had a clear view of him as he +strode along the path, for, the latter being raised several feet above +their level, his face was silhouetted against the dark sky beyond the +electric beam. Their glimpse was only momentary, because as though +dazzled, he raised his hand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> to his eyes, and altogether he was not ten +seconds within the range of their vision, but it lasted long enough to +enable Enid to whisper her companion—</p> + +<p>"That was Mr. Chermside, the young officer from India who has been +staying down here for the last month. He's supposed to be awfully gone +on Violet Maynard, the daughter of the rich Birmingham man who has taken +the Manor House for the summer."</p> + +<p>"Then I expect that is where he was coming from," suggested Reggie. "I +met him in the club yesterday. Your father introduced him. He seemed a +decent sort of chap, but down on his luck I thought."</p> + +<p>"You have made two blunders in one statement," was Miss Enid's pert +retort. "He can't have been coming from the Manor House because he +wasn't in evening dress. And he can't be down on his luck because he's +got heaps of money. Why, he's going to start on a cruise round the world +soon in a steam yacht that is fitting out at Portland."</p> + +<p>"Sorry I spoke," said Reggie. "Come, he's far enough ahead not to be a +nuisance now; let me give you a hand up on to the path. I suppose that +Mr. Mallory is prejudiced against Chermside, since he's a friend of +Travers Nugent, eh?"</p> + +<p>Disdaining the offer of assistance, Enid ran lightly up the slope on to +the path before replying.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 370px;"> +<img src="images/i058.jpg" width="370" height="550" alt=""Their glimpse was only momentary, because, as though +dazzled, he raised his hand to his eyes."" title="" /> +<span class="caption"></span> +</div> + +<p>"On the contrary," she said as Reggie joined her, "I can't quite make +father out on the subject of Mr. Leslie Chermside. For once in a way the +dear old man is inconsistent, or so he seems to me. He won't commit +himself to a definite opinion, but I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> can see that he is deeply +interested in Mr. Nugent's friend, and in the relations existing between +the pair. I think, from signs and portents known only to myself, that +father rather likes Mr. Chermside."</p> + +<p>"Lucky for Chermside," Reggie absently mused aloud. "There!" he added +with a quick return to nautical briskness. "Thank goodness that infernal +searchlight has moved off us and found the town at last. I prefer being +at the other end of the beastly thing to having it in one's eyes. There +goes the first gun from the cruiser."</p> + +<p>And under cover of the restored darkness arms were clasped again, and +the young heads fell very close together for the rest of the way back to +the town that was now being vigorously bombarded in mimic warfare.</p> + +<p>Two miles out at sea the big guns flashed and boomed, and ahead of them +on the marshland path the footsteps of the man they had seen in the rays +of the searchlight were dying away, so quickly had he outpaced the +lingerers. But Lieutenant Beauchamp and Miss Enid Mallory took no heed +of either, little dreaming of the terrible significance that attached to +what they had seen and heard that night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>THE CRY FROM THE TRAIN</h3> + + +<p>"Oh, good morning, Chermside. So you have not, after all, left +Ottermouth yet, as you led me to infer would be the case."</p> + +<p>Leslie Chermside looked up from his newspaper to meet the steady gaze of +Travers Nugent, who had just entered the reading room at the club. It +was before the hour when the morning frequenters were wont to assemble, +and for the moment they had the apartment to themselves.</p> + +<p>"No," said Leslie shortly. "I have changed my mind, and shall stay on +for a while."</p> + +<p>Nugent carefully closed the door and came and stood with his back to the +mantelpiece looking down at his late accomplice. "Does that mean that +you have returned to your allegiance?" he asked softly.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," came Leslie's flash of indignation.</p> + +<p>"Ah! then I presume that you found Levison amenable to reason, or, at +least, that you persuaded him to grant you a reprieve when you kept your +appointment with him last night?" said Nugent. Though he spoke with a +great assumption of carelessness, applying a light to his cigarette the +while,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> his eyes never left the younger man's face for an instant, +seeming to burn with a snake-like glitter.</p> + +<p>Under this keen scrutiny Leslie reddened, and his reply came haltingly +at first, as though he picked his words with deliberation. "I asked no +favours of Levison. He—he can do his worst for all I care." And then, +moved by a sudden impulse, the ex-Lancer added hotly: "See here, Mr. +Nugent. My association with you, which I deeply regret, has not been an +honourable one. It is not my province to blame you, seeing how culpable +I have been myself, but the subject is distasteful to me, and at least I +have the right to ask that you will not again refer to the disgraceful +affair that brought us together. I shall hope shortly to obtain +employment which will enable me to repay the money advanced by the +Maharajah for my passage home, and, so far as I am concerned, that will +be an end of the business. I do not consider that I am legally or +morally bound to recognize the debts which his Highness gave me to +understand he had paid voluntarily. As the bribe with which he tempted +me was only a sham, I owe him no allegiance whatever."</p> + +<p>Nugent listened with upraised brows to the angry outbreak, the flicker +of a frosty smile playing about his lips. But if he had meditated a +rejoinder he checked it. His quick ears had caught the click of the hall +door, and the hum of voices in the ante-room. He merely shrugged his +shoulders, and was ready with a genial greeting for the members who +trooped in. They were three in number—Mr. Montague Maynard, who had +motored in from the Manor House; Mr. Vernon Mallory, whose pale,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +ascetic face reflected nothing of the interest inspired by finding +Nugent and Chermside, obviously to his shrewd vision, concluding a +heated discussion; and, lastly, but by no means least in his own +estimation, General Kruse, formerly of the Indian Staff Corps.</p> + +<p>The last-mentioned was somewhat unkindly behind his back called "the +widow's Kruse," the nickname being founded on an erroneous rumour that +he was pursuing with matrimonial intentions the wealthy relict of a +London tradesman, who had settled in the neighbourhood. There was a +still more unkind version of the origin of the nickname, and one in +which there was, unfortunately, just a spice of truth—that he was +"always full." He was a big, burly man, with a rubicund complexion and a +voice like a thunderstorm.</p> + +<p>The three gentlemen had chanced to meet on the doorstep of the club, and +the General had already commenced to impart to the other two an item of +news which he had picked up on the way from his house. He now began it +all over again for the benefit of the larger audience.</p> + +<p>"Most extraordinary thing," he bellowed in his foghorn tones. "As I was +just telling these fellows, Nugent, I looked in at the <i>Plume Hotel</i> as +I came through the town, and they're in a rare pucker there. A chap +staying at the hotel went out last night after dinner, saying he was +going for a walk, and he hasn't come back."</p> + +<p>"Bolted to save paying his bill, I suppose," suggested Nugent, stealing +a glance at Leslie Chermside, who, however, was invisible behind his +news<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>paper. "It is not an unprecedented occurrence at a seaside resort +in the summer season, is it?"</p> + +<p>But General Kruse with great gusto proceeded to demolish any such +commonplace theory. "It wasn't that," he roared. "The chap—Levison his +name was—had paid his charges pretty near up to the hilt. It is the +custom to render bills weekly, and as he had been at the <i>Plume</i> a week +yesterday, his account was presented to him. He paid it like a shot. +There is only his last night's dinner owing for, and he has left luggage +that would square that twenty times over."</p> + +<p>"I expect he will turn up before the day is over," said Nugent, with the +air of becoming bored with all this fuss about a stranger. And, as if to +put an end to the General's prosing, he turned to Montague Maynard.</p> + +<p>"When I was lunching with you the other day, Miss Violet consulted me +about a picnic tea she was thinking of giving," he said. "Your daughter +was good enough to want my advice as to a good camping-ground, and I +told her I would take time to consider. Will you tell her from me that I +should recommend that grassy patch on the marsh, half-way between the +beach and the Manor House? It is sheltered from the sun at four o'clock +in the afternoon, and that means everything at this time of year."</p> + +<p>"Thanks very much; I'll tell Vi; she's sending out short invitations for +to-morrow," replied Mr. Maynard, wondering why, in making a +communication that concerned him alone of those present in the room, the +speaker should have been looking at some one else. For, after claiming +the screw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> manufacturer's attention, Nugent allowed his eyes to wander +to Leslie Chermside, who was still hidden by the newspaper.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vernon Mallory, of whom it had once been remarked that he noticed +everything while appearing to notice nothing, happened to choose this +moment for addressing a trivial but direct question to the diligent +reader, calling him by his name, and leaving him no alternative but for +an equally direct answer. Leslie laid aside the paper and replied +courteously, but in doing so disclosed a twitching mouth, and a face +from which every drop of red blood had fled, leaving it ashen grey.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory did not pursue the subject of his interrogation further, +but, turning to General Kruse, started a fresh and congenial topic by +suggesting that that thirsty old warrior would be the better for a +whisky and soda. The invitation being promptly accepted, Mr. Mallory, +who eschewed spiritual indulgence in the morning, ordered a cigar for +himself, and plunged into a discussion of the delinquencies of the urban +district council, in which Travers Nugent and Mr. Maynard were presently +included.</p> + +<p>Under cover of these amenities Leslie Chermside rose and, followed by +two pairs of observant eyes, left the club. Avoiding the crowded parade, +he crossed the pebbly beach to an upturned and discarded boat, and +flinging himself down in the shade of it, abandoned himself to his +thoughts. Gradually the colour came back to his cheeks, and the agonized +expression which Mr. Mallory had surprised yielded to one of dogged +determination.</p> + +<p>"The prospect of the picnic at that spot is simply<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> horrible, but after +all it is a mere detail, and I must go through with it," he murmured +presently. "The fact remains that, within limits, I am now free to stay +here and thwart the new scheme which I am convinced that Nugent is +hatching. If I could have but one glimpse at the cards he holds."</p> + +<p>For an hour Leslie lay in the shadow of the boat, vainly striving to +penetrate the veil which he felt sure Nugent had thrown over his +designs. It was futile to formulate plans for combating them till he had +discovered what the designs were. That the <i>Cobra</i>, the big turbine +yacht that had been chartered, would still be retained as the principal +feature in the programme was probable, since Nugent would naturally be +reluctant to waste the expense already incurred, and, except on a vessel +controlled by the Maharajah's emissaries, the abduction of Violet +Maynard to India would be practically impossible. But how, without the +co-operation which he had withdrawn, Nugent could hope to convey an +unwilling passenger on board the steamer Leslie could not surmise. He +could only wait and watch, in the full knowledge that his former +colleague and present antagonist was a man of infinite resource, and +endowed with an inborn cunning which it would be folly to despise.</p> + +<p>One thing was certain, he told himself, as he rose and strolled back to +his lodgings on the main street—day and night he must keep vigil for +the appearance of the <i>Cobra</i> off the coast, and he must also cultivate +close relations with Violet, so as to learn of anything that might +indicate the ruse by which it was intended to inveigle her on board.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<p>To sustain the pretence that he had recently inherited a fortune, and +had means which would justify the possession of a large steam yacht, he +had established himself, by the advice and introduction of Travers +Nugent, at the best and most expensive rooms in the place. Here he shut +himself up for the remainder of that day, refraining from going to the +club or to the tennis field, and brooding over the resolves and +apprehensions which unfitted him, as he knew, for the society of his +fellow-men.</p> + +<p>By the last post he received an informal note from Violet, inviting him +to a picnic tea on the following day. The party was to assemble at the +Manor at four o'clock, afterwards making its way on foot to the spot +selected, which was within easy reach of the house. Leslie shuddered as +he read the concluding words, but having braced himself to sit down and +pen an acceptance, he went out in the dusk and posted it.</p> + +<p>The next day was favoured with ideal weather for an <i>al fresco</i> +entertainment, and when the guests assembled at the appointed hour it +was at once evident that Violet's picnic tea had been hailed as a +popular function. Every one who had been asked put in an appearance, to +the number of about a hundred. Hired conveyances deposited a mixed +assortment of residents and season visitors from Ottermouth; a few +old-fashioned barouches brought representatives of such of the +neighbouring county families as had deigned to recognize the Birmingham +magnate; while motor cars in plenty accounted for many of the arrivals.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>Among the latter was Mr. Travers Nugent, well-groomed and debonair in +his grey suit, and wearing an orchid in his button-hole from one of his +own glasshouses at The Hut. On descending from his car he exchanged +his motor-cap for a feather-weight Panama, and smilingly confronted the +group at the main entrance. Mr. Mallory, who had arrived earlier, took +particular notice of that smile, which lasted only just so long as it +was wanted for the purpose of responding to the welcome of his host and +hostesses. As soon as he had shaken hands with Violet and Miss Sarah +Dymmock and Mr. Maynard, Nugent effaced himself unobtrusively among the +guests, and Mr. Mallory's observant eyes following him perceived that +the smile had given place to a look of preoccupation.</p> + +<p>This in turn was chased away by a sudden start and a gleam of +satisfaction when, among the last arrivals, Leslie Chermside was seen +making his way on foot up the drive. Thence onward Mr. Travers Nugent's +air of self-absorption left him; turning to those of his acquaintances +nearest him he laid himself out to amuse and interest.</p> + +<p>"Now, what does that portend?" the keen old diplomatist muttered under +his breath. "It was almost as though Nugent had been afraid that +Chermside was not coming, and that he was gratified when at length he +appeared. I wonder what is the bond, if bond it is, between the young +soldier with the mysterious blank in his life and the clever gentleman +with so many irons in the fire that he ought to have burned his fingers +long ago. There is something in the wind, but is the youngster from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +India a dupe or confederate? I would give a good deal to know."</p> + +<p>At the word from jovial Montague Maynard the now completed party set out +for the picnic ground, a chorus of approval going up at the announcement +of the spot selected. Even on a hot summer day the laziest could not +object, for, once outside the Manor demesne, a quarter of an hour's +saunter through the delightful scenery at the head of the marsh brought +them to the little strip of pasture land reclaimed from the swamps, +where the tea-tables had been set out in the shade of a group of elms. +Cavillers might have complained that the railway embankment skirting the +place on one side marred the aesthetic harmony of the whole, but if +there were any such they remained discreetly silent.</p> + +<p>The snowy damask of the tables laden with dainties and surrounded by a +bevy of smart maidservants from the Manor made an inviting picture on +the strip of verdure, and Montague Maynard's guests renewed their +acclamations. Reggie Beauchamp, who had, of course, annexed Enid Mallory +as his partner for the afternoon, expressed the opinion that it was +"simply ripping."</p> + +<p>"And, by Jove!" he added of malice aforethought, "look at that girl +bossing the other maids. She seems to be in charge of the show. She is +ripping too. Just the style of beauty I admire."</p> + +<p>Enid cocked a sly eye at him, and catching the gleam of mischief refused +to be drawn. "Yes," she said, following his gaze to the graceful +brunette in black silk who was directing operations at the tables, +conspicuous by the absence of apron and cap-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>streamers, "that is Louise +Aubin, Violet Maynard's maid. She is certainly pretty, but she looks as +if she had a temper. I shouldn't dare to find fault with her if she +belonged to me."</p> + +<p>"A bit of a spitfire, perhaps," assented the Lieutenant, finding that +his harmless shaft had missed its mark. "Might give you beans with the +brush, eh, if you slanged her for pulling out your hair by the roots?"</p> + +<p>Miss Mallory sniffed contemptuously at the implied familiarity with the +sacred rites of the dressing-table, and she might have expressed herself +strongly on the subject had not their attention been distracted by the +approach of a train along the embankment above them. It was beginning to +shut off steam for the stop at Ottermouth Station, a mile further on, +and the people in the carriages were plainly distinguishable by the +picnic party.</p> + +<p>Just as the train was sweeping past a cry from one of the third-class +compartments drew all eyes that way. Looking up, the picnickers saw a +man leaning from the window and frantically gesticulating—or, rather, +vehemently pointing at some object on the marsh below. To those on the +lower ground there was nothing visible to cause his agitation.</p> + +<p>"What was that lunatic up to, and what was he howling about?" asked +Reggie as the train disappeared round a curve.</p> + +<p>"It sounded like 'the face of a fool,' so far as I could make out," Enid +laughed.</p> + +<p>"I don't think it was that," said Violet Maynard, who, with Leslie and +Mr. Mallory in attendance, had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> come up behind them. "It struck me that +the excited passenger's cry was more like 'the face in the pool.'"</p> + +<p>"That was it, I expect," said Reggie lightly. "He must have seen the +reflection of his own in one of those puddles of tidal water. That was +the Ottermouth section of the London corridor express, which has a +luncheon car attached. The Johnny had probably been indulging too freely +in the conveniences of modern travel."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory said nothing. He was inwardly asking himself why Leslie +Chermside, who, though obviously forcing himself to do so under intense +nervous strain, had been pleasantly chatting all the way from the Manor +House, should have suddenly turned pale, fiercely biting his underlip +with strong white teeth.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>THE FACE IN THE POOL</h3> + + +<p>Discussion as to the exact words of the cry from the train was cut short +by a general adjournment to the tables, where for the next half-hour the +guests did justice to their host's lavish hospitality. Mountains of +sun-kissed peaches from the warm walls of the Manor gardens, gallons of +fruit-salad and cakes in bewildering variety disappeared as by magic. +The little green oasis at the brink of the marshes rang with laughter, +presently blended with the strains of a small but select string band +from London, hidden in a secluded nook behind the sheltering elms.</p> + +<p>But if the episode of the excited passenger was generally forgotten it +only remained in abeyance so far at least as the memory of one of Mr. +Maynard's guests was concerned. It was not necessary for a man of Mr. +Vernon Mallory's age to plead an excuse for an early desertion of the +"aids to indigestion," as he called them, and he lighted a cigar and +went off for a solitary stroll. Travers Nugent paused for a moment in +his entertainment of a cluster of ladies to send a thoughtful glance +after the tall, spare figure of the retired civil servant, and a curious +gleam flitted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> over his inscrutable features. It could not have been +wholly caused by dissatisfaction, for he resumed his amusing persiflage +with enhanced sparkle.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory's sauntering steps took him to the side of the reclaimed +ground nearest to the railway line immediately under the embankment. To +the casual observer his movements might have seemed somewhat erratic, +and based only on a desire to get away from the chatter of the +tea-tables and enjoy his cigar in peace. To any one really interested in +his sudden detachment, however, it would have become apparent that there +was system, carefully cloaked, perhaps, but none the less thorough, in +every step he took.</p> + +<p>The place where, by Travers Nugent's advice, the picnic camp had been +pitched lay some two hundred yards beyond the little glade at the side +of the raised marshland path where Reggie Beauchamp and Enid Mallory had +rested on the occasion of their prowl in the dark two evenings ago. +Here, for the purpose of raising the railway to the proper level, the +bank of the old river bed had been destroyed for a short distance, and +instead of the miniature red cliffs, with their leafy screen of brambles +and dwarf oaks, the marsh was skirted by the ugly side of the +embankment. This break in the beauties of nature caused by the +exigencies of engineering was but a score or two of yards in length, and +it was while the train had been in view on this short section that the +third-class passenger had played such strange antics.</p> + +<p>At the foot of the embankment the ground was swampy, nowhere yielding +firm foothold, and here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> and there deepening into pools formed by the +brackish water that had drained in from the tidal dykes at the other +side of the path. For the most part the pools were surrounded and +studded with sedges, which concealed them from passers-by.</p> + +<p>It was among these offshoots of the marsh that, at the risk of getting +bogged in the quagmires, Mr. Mallory pottered about by himself. Poking +and prying everywhere, he, however, devoted most attention to the pools +in the ground nearest the fence at the base of the embankment, which +were furthest removed, and therefore less visible, from the path. Ten +minutes must have been spent in this apparently unprofitable employment +when he suddenly straightened himself, and, regaining the firmer ground, +made his way slowly back to the gay gathering under the trees.</p> + +<p>Many of the people had left the vicinity of the tables and were +promenading the grassy strip while listening to the band. Montague +Maynard, assiduous in his care for his guests, was a difficult man to +catch, but Mr. Mallory managed to pin him at last as he was leaving one +group to join another. Poles apart in temperament and in their life's +experience, the genial manufacturer and the reserved old diplomatist had +nevertheless conceived a sincere regard for each other during the +former's sojourn in the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>"Just a word with you," said Mr Mallory in a low voice, leading his host +aside.</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow, certainly; but what is it? You look as though you had +seen a ghost," replied the other.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You will have to get all these folk away quietly," said Mr. Mallory, +after assuring himself that they were out of earshot. "I have not seen a +ghost, but the next thing to it. There is the dead body of a man in one +of those pools close under the railway fence. Some of these youngsters +will be sure to stumble on it if we remain here. Besides, we can't keep +it to ourselves for a minute. The authorities must be notified at once."</p> + +<p>Maynard emitted a low whistle, and his face clouded at a contretemps +which, whatever else it might portend, bade fair to spoil Violet's +party. But his brow cleared again as his eyes rested on the +sombrely-clad diminutive form of Miss Sarah Dymmock, who, with a +vivacity wonderful for her years, was holding court under one of the +trees.</p> + +<p>"Old Aunt Sally will manage it," he said. "You're quite right about +clearing 'em off, and I'm deeply indebted to you, Mallory, for not +raising a hullabaloo. It would never do to scare all these butterflies +with a discovery like that. And, as you say, the police must be informed +and a doctor sent for without a moment's delay."</p> + +<p>He hurried off, and Mr. Mallory watched from afar the result of the +whispered communication which he made to the aged spinster. It did not +transpire till afterwards how Aunt Sarah contrived it, but after one or +two comprehending nods the old lady turned to the group of which she had +been the centre, and almost at once an electric spark seemed to have +been communicated to the whole festive assembly. In twos and threes and +larger clusters the picnic party began to move<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> off the ground back +towards the Manor House.</p> + +<p>Having assured himself that the main object was gained, Mr. Mallory was +free to study the details of the <i>débâcle</i> he had caused. Travers +Nugent, without a break in the lively conversation he was holding with a +smart lady of local importance, had apparently accepted unquestionably +the situation as propounded by Aunt Sarah, and was following the +remainder of the flock with sheep-like docility. After Nugent, Mr. +Mallory's eyes sought and found Leslie Chermside, and in his case there +was more food for reflection. Mr. Mallory was at once aware that +Chermside was observing him with equal interest; in fact, their eyes +actually met in a quick thrust and parry of unspoken question on one +side, and something that was curiously akin to defiance on the other.</p> + +<p>The ex-Lancer was for the moment standing alone, and Mr. Mallory moved +towards him as if to speak. But he was forestalled by Violet, who came +up and evidently claimed Leslie as escort on the homeward walk, for they +started in the wake of the others before Mr. Mallory, if such had been +his intention, could make any attempt to detain them.</p> + +<p>He was more fortunate in the case of Reggie Beauchamp, and he had his +daughter to thank for the capture. Enid, not having outgrown her +schoolgirl devotion to sweets, had lingered round the tables for a final +ice, and the young sailor was still in faithful attendance. Mr. Mallory +pounced on the pair just as they had realized that a general stampede +was in progress, and were preparing to follow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Beauchamp, I wish you would remain with Mr. Maynard and myself for a +little," he said. "There is a point on which I want to fortify myself +with your opinion. We can walk back to the Manor afterwards."</p> + +<p>Enid began to pout and toss her head, but she knew every phase of her +idolized father's moods, and one glance at the network of creases round +the keen eyes was sufficient to quell her incipient mutiny. The +appearance of those filaments on the stern, ascetic face was a sure +danger-signal that her father was not to be trifled with—that the +active brain was at work on some serious problem. She put her ice-plate +down and, bidding the Lieutenant "make himself generally useful," ran +away to overtake the fast-receding party.</p> + +<p>She had hardly departed when Montague Maynard came bustling up, wiping +his brow with a silk handkerchief. He stopped for an instant to order +the wondering servants to pack up the crockery ready for the cart and to +get home as quick as they could, and then he turned to Mr. Mallory, +while Reggie, with instinctive modesty, fell back a pace or two.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Sally is a masterpiece; I'll tell you how she did it later," he +said, his eyebrows uplifted inquiringly in the direction of the young +torpedo-boat commander.</p> + +<p>"It is all right. He's wanted," interpolated Mr. Mallory shortly.</p> + +<p>"Well, then this is what I have done," the screw magnate went on in a +hoarse undertone. "I have sent a footman into the town direct for the +police-sergeant, and another to hurry up one of the local<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> medicos. All +these maids will have skedaddled before either the sergeant or the +doctor can turn up. Now shall we go and have a look at the—the place? +You have no idea who the poor fellow is, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"I am not sure; it is on that point that I want Beauchamp to corroborate +me," was the reply. And, calling Reggie forward, Mr. Mallory told him, +as the three went towards the swamps under the embankment, of the +gruesome discovery he had made, and how he wished to learn if his view +of the dead man's identity coincided with his own.</p> + +<p>No more was said till they had picked their way over the firmest +foothold they could find to the pool where the horrible sight awaited +them. The body lay half in and half out of the water, the upturned face +being afloat while the remains below the shoulders were embedded in the +ooze at the brink and nearly concealed by the reeds.</p> + +<p>"Miss Maynard was right, you see, as to what the passenger called out +from the train—'the face in the pool,'" said Mr. Mallory. "The lower +limbs were probably invisible up there. Now, Beauchamp; do you recognize +the victim of this tragedy?"</p> + +<p>Reggie looked blankly down at the features about which there lingered +none of the majesty of death—mean, commonplace features, which +nevertheless might have had their attraction for the unsophisticated by +reason of a certain sensual fullness of lip and smoothness of the now +marble-white skin. The wide-open eyes, staring skyward, conveyed the +impression of sudden, awful fear.</p> + +<p>"No, I can't put a name to him," said the lieu<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>tenant after a long +scrutiny which he did not relax. "And yet there is a look about him that +seems vaguely familiar. That, though, is not quite the word for it. I +mean that I believe that I have seen him before."</p> + +<p>"What about the French window in the reading room at the Club?" +suggested Mr. Mallory. "Does that help your memory?"</p> + +<p>"Of course!" came the quick rejoinder. "It is the chap who called for +Chermside the other morning and walked away with him along the Parade. A +cockney visitor, I should judge by his clothes. And, by Jove, I expect +he's the man who is missing from the <i>Plume Hotel</i>. The club steward +knew him by sight as staying there."</p> + +<p>A frosty gleam shone in the old diplomatist's eyes. "You are probably +correct in the latter surmise," he said. "But in any case we are in +agreement as to his being Chermside's acquaintance. That was what I +wanted to get from you."</p> + +<p>"Not a very reputable acquaintance, I should imagine," said the great +manufacturer, looking thoughtfully down at the bedraggled tawdriness of +the dead man's attire. "If our young friend from India hadn't been +vouched for by Travers Nugent, I should have put this poor creature down +as a dun or a money-lender's tout. His features are distinctly Hebraic. +I wonder how he got himself drowned in that shallow pool. A drop too +much, eh, and a stumble in the dark?"</p> + +<p>But Reggie Beauchamp, regardless of his immaculate flannels, had plunged +knee-deep into the mire. His sailor's eye, used to note every detail,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +had perceived something that had escaped the two shore-going gentlemen +with sight impaired by years of office work.</p> + +<p>"He wasn't drowned!" he exclaimed, and then, moderating his voice so +that it should not reach the maid-servants on the deserted picnic +ground, he added: "His throat has been cut from ear to ear. By Jove——"</p> + +<p>But Reggie pulled himself up all short, and had no more to say. He had +remembered the cry, weird and long-drawn, which Enid and he had heard +from their cosy retreat at the marsh-side two nights ago. And he had +remembered something else of even graver and more personal import—a +reminiscence of the prowl in the dusk which he discreetly forbore from +disclosing till he should have had an opportunity for consulting his +fair partner in that escapade.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>INTERCEPTED</h3> + + +<p>Mademoiselle Louise Aubin possessed all the attributes of her Gallic +blood. She was vain of her voluptuous charms, susceptible to flattery, +and prone to blurt out on the least provocation the scanty ideas in her +empty little head as soon as and whenever they entered it. She was +further endowed with a fiery temper and an eager impetuosity, which +often led her to act without thought of consequences.</p> + +<p>In the last-named characteristics was to be found the reason why in the +cool of the evening she set out to walk from the Manor House to +Ottermouth in order to lay information with the police against the man +she believed to be the slayer of Levi Levison. For once in a way she had +said nothing of her purpose in the servants' hall, expecting to score a +greater dramatic effect by announcing on her return that she had been +the means of causing the murderer's arrest.</p> + +<p>Long before the afternoon party had dispersed the reason for the hurried +adjournment from the marsh back to the house had become known—first +among the guests, from whom there was no longer any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> necessity to keep +secret what was bound to be noised abroad in an hour or two, and then +among the members of the domestic staff, to whom the news spread like +wildfire.</p> + +<p>The earliest intelligence had been quickly supplemented by further +details of description and identification which left no doubt in the +mind of Louise that the dead man was the hero of her three weeks' +flirtation. Equally sure was she that he had come by his death at the +hands of that older lover, the Breton peasant and sailor who had adored +her in her native village long before she had dreamed of becoming <i>femme +de chambre</i> to the daughter of an English millionaire.</p> + +<p>Yes, she told herself, assuredly Pierre Legros, the French huckster of +onions, had killed her latest admirer out of insensate jealousy, and he +should suffer for it if there was any power in a woman's tongue. Mr. +Levison had held out glittering prospects, which it was galling to have +destroyed by a persistent boor such as Pierre. Travers Nugent's human +tool had described himself as "a financial agent"—a phrase which to the +French girl's ears sounded the brazen tocsin of untold wealth, and which +she could not know covered as many iniquities as that other +comprehensive term—"a resting actress." Pierre Legros must certainly +pay the penalty for shattering her dreams of riches and luxury, and to +secure that laudable vengeance she started for Ottermouth as soon as she +had dressed her young mistress for dinner.</p> + +<p>The path skirting the marshes was her nearest way, but she dared not +pass the spot where the crime<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> had been committed, and where there would +probably be a crowd of sightseers attracted to the scene. She chose the +longer route along the high road, and by the time she had walked a mile +between the leafy hedgerows she began to ask herself questions.</p> + +<p>Coming of thrifty French parents, her first was: What was she to gain by +making the disclosure and putting a noose round the neck of Pierre? +Nothing at all, and, on the other hand, there was the chance that she +might lose a situation in which she was extremely comfortable. Miss +Sarah Dymmock, who was her virtual if not nominal mistress, would not be +likely to tolerate lightly the scandal which she would bring upon Mr. +Maynard's establishment. The old lady had shown her teeth the other day, +when she had caught the onion-seller abusing her and had driven him out +of the grounds at the point of her sunshade. Miss Dymmock's +vituperations had not been all for the male delinquent. The rough side +of Aunt Sarah's tongue was like a nutmeg-grater, and she had rasped out +several rugged threats about not keeping a maid who was a bone of +contention to violent "followers."</p> + +<p>Again she was conscious, deep down in her fickle heart, of a soft spot +for the faithful compatriot with whom she had scrambled about the rocks +of her native village when he had been a sunburnt fisher-lad and she a +bare-legged hoyden of fifteen. For Levi Levison she had cared not one +jot. If it had not been for the overthrow of the brilliant prospect +which she fondly believed a marriage with him would have implied she +would have borne Pierre Legros<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> no ill-will for hacking his rival to +death. It would indeed have been a delicate compliment.</p> + +<p>So it was that as she walked the deserted country road she wavered, and +as she wavered there came into view round a bend some way ahead a +pedestrian sauntering so leisurely that he had more the appearance of +keeping a tryst than of making for a destination. And, though the lady +for whom he was waiting knew it not, Mr. Travers Nugent was, in a sense, +keeping a tryst, and she was no less a personage than the damsel +advancing to meet him—Mademoiselle Louise Aubin herself.</p> + +<p>As they met Louise was surprised to see the English gentleman stop and +raise his hat to her. She had never before exchanged a word with him, or +so much as given him a thought, though she knew him by sight as an +occasional caller at the Maynards' house in London, and had since +learned that he had a summer retreat at Ottermouth.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me for addressing you without formal introduction," said Nugent +with the deference he would have used to a duchess, "but interest in +this terrible murder must be my excuse. I recognize you, of course, as +Miss Maynard's confidential companion. Can you inform me if any later +intelligence has been received at the Manor House? There was nothing but +vague rumour in the air when I left after the afternoon party."</p> + +<p>He had to a nicety struck the correct note for "drawing" Mademoiselle +Louise. The winning smile, the doffed hat would have gone far; but the +promotion from lady's maid to "companion" made her conquest an easy +matter. Yet, coquette<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> as she was, she delayed the intended surrender +which in her folly she regarded as a victory. She promised herself the +pleasure of looking important in this affable gentleman's eyes, but it +was a situation that must be prolonged for proper enjoyment.</p> + +<p>"But no, M'sieu," she replied. "It is not at the Manor House that you +should inquire for news. They know nothing there, nor do they greatly +care. How should they be distracted, my so kind friends, by a cr-rime +which is to them but a bagatelle that has disturbed the pleasure of a +summerre day? It is to the police in the town that you should apply."</p> + +<p>Nugent's shoulders shrugged with Parisian eloquence. "I have already +pursued inquiries in that quarter, but the police appear to be +completely in the dark, except that they have verified the fact that the +deceased had been staying at the <i>Plume Hotel</i>," he said, never +forgetting for an instant to qualify the baldness of his statement with +a respectfully admiring glance.</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle's opportunity for dramatic effect had come. It would be far +more interesting to startle this so polite "Milor" than to scarify the +servants' hall at the Manor House, and she could do that later as well. +To the winds with all caution! She must brave Aunt Sarah's wrath if the +old lady took a harsh view of her conduct. The chance to pose was +irresistible and she took the stage there and then.</p> + +<p>"M'sieu has been premature," she said, heralding her bomb-shell with a +flash of her fine eyes. "If he returns and puts his questions to the +<i>sergent-de-ville</i> later in the evening he will doubtless be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +differently informed. For I, Louise Aubin, am now on my way to indicate +to the authorities the assassin of that poor gentleman."</p> + +<p>Travers Nugent's astonishment seemed to overwhelm him. He took a step +back, eyed the girl with something like awe, and touched his lips with +his tongue. "You are not serious?" he gasped. "Do you really mean that +you witnessed the crime?"</p> + +<p>The fair Louise lifted her hands in genuine horror. "<i>Mon Dieu!</i> Not so +bad as that," she replied. "But it is all the same as if I had been +there. It is the motive that I go to point out, and the name of the +murderer that I go to give. I who speak to you was the motive, and the +name is Pierre Legros. The <i>scélérat</i> is a seller of onions from a +little French ship that is in the harbour of Exmouth."</p> + +<p>And Mademoiselle Aubin proceeded to rattle off the history of her early +courtship by Legros in her native village, and of his inopportune +arrival while she was accepting the attentions of the "financial agent" +from London. She volubly repeated her former lover's heated language to +herself, and described the bloodthirsty threats he had used about his +successful rival. His guilt was as clear as noonday, she avowed—as +clear as if that dreadful thing M'sieu had suggested had been really +true and she had seen the deed with her own eyes.</p> + +<p>"Pierre killed Monsieur Levison for love of me," she concluded, with a +gesture worthy of the great Bernhardt.</p> + +<p>Nugent's manner and attitude had almost imperceptibly and very gradually +altered during the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> recital, though the theatrical young Frenchwoman had +been so absorbed in herself that it was only when she had sounded the +final flourish that she noticed the change. The look of surprise—of +almost alarmed surprise—which had come into his face at her first +profession of knowledge was gone, and was now replaced by an expression +of chivalrous sympathy blended with just a trace of dissent.</p> + +<p>"I can well believe in the potency of the motive suggested by +Mademoiselle," he said with a grave bow. "Any man might almost have free +pardon for homicide committed for the sake of her favours. But it was +not so in this case. The man whom I have good cause to suspect of having +slain Mr. Levi Levison had never to my knowledge spoken with +mademoiselle either in France or in England. That was why I was so +astonished when you stated that though you had not witnessed the crime, +you were on your way to denounce the criminal."</p> + +<p>"Who, then, is it that you suspect, m'sieu?" Louise, all taken aback, +demanded in a sibilant whisper. "After all, Pierre was the friend of my +youth, and it would be sweeter to take vengeance on other than he."</p> + +<p>Travers Nugent appeared to be about to speak, but to check himself as an +afterthought. "I do not think that it would be quite in accordance with +a spirit of justice if I mentioned the villain's name, even to you, just +yet," he said, after a pause. "I am morally convinced of his guilt, but +there are one or two points to be cleared up before it can be proved. If +it leaked out that he was under suspicion before the police had been +furnished with enough evi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>dence to arrest him he might evade us +altogether. This much, however, I can promise you, that as soon as I +have linked up the chain you shall be the first to be informed of it. +Surely you are entitled to be, as the adored of <i>ce pauvre</i> Levison. In +the meanwhile, will you favour me with a description of Pierre Legros? I +have a reason for asking which will commend itself to you."</p> + +<p>Louise launched into an eloquent word-picture of the onion-seller, +contriving with many deprecatory shrugs to convey her contempt for his +rough appearance and for his humble calling, while taking full credit +for having recognized him at all in her present exalted station. His +fierce eyebrows, his swarthy skin, his blue jean garments were all in +turn catalogued and tossed aside as so much rubbish not worthy of notice +if their owner was not to achieve fame as a murderer.</p> + +<p>"A thousand thanks! You are an artist in our language, mademoiselle, and +have absolutely confirmed the innocence of your worthy +fellow-countryman, though I commiserate with you on the reappearance in +your life of one so <i>gauche</i>," said Nugent decisively. "You are entitled +to my fullest confidence, but discretion confines me to this at present: +Pierre Legros, so easily recognizable from your vivid description, could +not have committed this crime. It would have been a physical +impossibility. At the hour when the medical men say that Levison must +have met his death Legros was creating a disturbance at the back door of +my house because the cook would not purchase any of his wares. While I +happen to know that the man I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> suspect had an appointment to meet some +one on the marsh about the same hour."</p> + +<p>One glance at the French girl's face as he made the last assertion told +him that he had scored one trick at least in the game he had set out to +play. There was no incredulity in the stare with which she drank in his +statement, nor was there affectation in the sigh which escaped her, due +partly to relief at the established alibi of her former lover, and +partly to disappointment that she was not to achieve fame as the heroine +of a murder mystery.</p> + +<p>"I shall hold you to your promise, M'sieu," she simpered at last. "And +as you have rendered my journey into the town unnecessary I will now +return to the Manor House. Accept my best thanks for preventing me from +committing a <i>bêtise</i> which would have anguished my soul. It would have +desolated me to have accused that poor Pierre under a mistake."</p> + +<p>So, after a few courtesies from Nugent, she turned and went back the way +she had come, reflecting that, after all, there was compensation for her +disappointment. Had she not been treated as an equal by a gentleman of +position and fascinating manners? Certainly he was not so young as Levi +Levison, but his eyes had rested on her charms with an admiration that +seemed sincere. Who knew but what he might, after a little coy +manipulation, step into the place in her affections vacated by the +defunct Levi? But then she could not see the contemptuously satisfied +smile on Mr. Nugent's face as he made his way back to the town, the +contempt being for the fickle jade so easily duped, and the +satis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>faction for the complete success of the self-denial that had led +him to postpone his dinner-hour and loiter about the country road on +which an unerring instinct had told him that the dupe would be found.</p> + +<p>"The treacherous little cat!" he murmured, caressing his long fair +moustache. "Bereft of one lover, and on her way to get number two +hanged, she was not too busy to make eyes at a possible third. With all +your faults, Travers Nugent, you have cause to be thankful that a +weakness for women is not among them."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>THE INQUISITIVE FOREMAN</h3> + + +<p>Reggie Beauchamp's mother, the widow of the late Admiral Beauchamp, +R.N., lived in a small detached house prettily situated on the main road +that extended from the High Street westward. A stout, +comfortable-looking lady of some fifty years, she had but one aim in +life—the happiness and advancement of her sailor son. Following on his +two years' absence in the China seas, she was having a glorious time +this eventful summer, with her boy stationed at Plymouth, and able to +run over to the little Devonshire resort as frequently as he could +obtain leave.</p> + +<p>As mother and son sat together at breakfast on the morning after the +picnic tea she noticed with maternal solicitude that he seemed somewhat +preoccupied. The town was in a ferment over the discovery of Levison's +body, and though it was not like Reggie to take anything seriously she +could only suppose that he was brooding over the small part he had +played in that episode.</p> + +<p>"When does the inquiry into this horrible affair take place, dear?" she +asked, as she handed him his second cup of coffee.</p> + +<p>He started as though she had read his thoughts.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> "At two o'clock this +afternoon, I believe," he replied. And then, knowing from experience +that he could not deceive those loving eyes, he added: "I was just +wondering if I should have to give evidence. I hardly expect to be +called, as it was Mr. Mallory who was the first to actually find the +body."</p> + +<p>"Even if you were called it would not be much of an ordeal, I +suppose—little more than a mere formality?" persisted Mrs. Beauchamp, +not wholly reassured by the shade of anxiety in his answer.</p> + +<p>"How could it be, mother, when I didn't know the chap from Adam, and was +not present when he was killed," was the reply which was hardly out of +the lieutenant's mouth when he sprang to his feet and made for the door. +"Excuse me," he said, stifling an exclamation of relief, "there is Enid +Mallory coming up the garden path. I have finished breakfast, and I'll +go and see what she wants."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Beauchamp smiled indulgently, and straightway forgot the +momentary qualm of uneasiness called up by the half-tone of irritation +in her son's reply to her questions about the inquest. Like the fond +match-making mother she was, she had immediately jumped to the +conclusion that her first diagnosis had been wrong, and that the boy's +wool-gathering was really due to the sprightly maiden whose knock was +even now resounding on the front door. For the Admiral's widow, with +happy memories of her own gallant husband to egg her on, had woven all +sorts of fairy visions round the two young people who were now meeting +on her doorstep. She approved of the lively Enid, was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> devoted +friend of her blind mother, and had the most profound respect for Mr. +Vernon Mallory himself.</p> + +<p>"It is as it should be; they are outgrowing the old playmate stage, and +are honestly falling in love with each other," the good lady murmured as +she caught a glimpse through the venetians of the pair strolling side by +side across the dewy little lawn.</p> + +<p>For, with set purpose, Reggie had not invited Enid into the house, but +had suggested that they should betake themselves to a garden seat under +the branches of a great horse-chestnut that grew in the boundary hedge. +Mrs. Beauchamp, however, would have heard no lover-like phrases could +she have listened to their matter-of-fact conversation.</p> + +<p>"Well, have you decided what it is best for us to do?" said the girl, as +soon as they were seated.</p> + +<p>"For goodness sake don't screech like that," Reggie reproved her, with +an apprehensive glance at the thick privet hedge that separated his +mother's premises from those next door. "That beast Lowch is probably on +the prowl over there, listening for all he's worth."</p> + +<p>"That's where you're wrong," retorted Enid promptly, but, nevertheless, +lowering her voice. "As I came up the street Mr. Lowch was up to his old +game—walking up and down in front of the police station so as to get +spotted for the jury by the sergeant."</p> + +<p>Mr. Lazarus Lowch, Mrs. Beauchamp's nearest neighbour, was one of those +freaks of humanity intended by an all-wise Providence to be as a thorn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +in the flesh of his fellow-men. His one idea of enjoying life was to +creep about endeavouring to catch people doing wrong. He was known to +carry a stop-watch for timing the speed of motor cars; he spent hours in +"shadowing" small boys whom he hoped to detect stealing apples; he +followed the municipal labourers about to see that they did not scamp +their work; he had a finger in every one's pie, always with the +intention of spoiling it; he was never really happy, but his nearest +approach to the beatific state was when he was doing his level best to +make some one else miserable.</p> + +<p>A lean, cadaverous, lantern-jawed creature, more resembling the +galvanized corpse of a dyspeptic ourang-outang than a man, he stalked +the earth full of petty guile and mischief. His origin and reason for +settling in the place were veiled in obscurity, though naturally there +were many legends on the subject. Equally of course, he was not a +favourite locally, and he would have been sorry to have it so. A man +whose hand is raised against everybody neither courts nor expects +popularity.</p> + +<p>One of the eccentricities of this peculiar being was a morbid love of +anything pertaining to the realm of the King of Terrors. He doted on +funerals, and was always present at the cemetery when these solemn +functions were being performed. Though somewhat stiff in the joints, he +would run a mile to see a drowned man taken out of the sea; he had been +heard to lament the fact that murderers were not hanged in public +nowadays, and that he was consequently deprived of a spectacle that +would have been as meat and drink to a starving man.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<p>But his great opportunity came whenever it was necessary to hold an +inquest in the bright little resort. On these occasions he would thrust +himself under the notice of the police with a view to getting summoned +on the jury, and, as it saved trouble, his tactics were always +successful. Moreover, since he occupied a superior social position to +the general ruck of jurymen he was invariably chosen foreman, with the +result that he reaped a double joy—that of viewing the corpse and of +making himself disagreeable to every one concerned.</p> + +<p>Reggie Beauchamp, therefore, on learning how their uncongenial neighbour +was occupied emitted a chuckle of mingled disgust and amusement.</p> + +<p>"Up to his old tricks, is he?" he said. "Well, the coast being clear, +let's consider what course to pursue. If we look at it from the point of +view of what we ought to do there is no question but that we ought to +come forward and say that we were on the marsh that night, and that +shortly after hearing a blood-curdling scream we saw Chermside in the +rays of the searchlight hurrying towards the town."</p> + +<p>Enid's face fell. There was no heinous fault in her evening walk with +her old playmate, and she did not in the least mind that coming to +light, but she shrank from the publicity of having to appear as a +witness whose evidence would be almost in the nature of an implied +accusation against a man whom she could not regard for an instant as +having anything to do with the crime. She had played tennis with Leslie +Chermside, and liked him; besides which she had conceived a romantic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +affection for beautiful Violet Maynard, and had watched the undeclared +love idyll between the young Indian officer and the millionaire's +daughter with lively interest.</p> + +<p>Possibly the cloud on Enid's frank face prompted Reggie to come to a +decision more than half formed already.</p> + +<p>"But," he went on without giving her time to reply, "one doesn't in this +wicked world always do what one ought, Pussy."</p> + +<p>"I never do," rejoined the girl, omitting to pretend to resent the use +of the once familiar nickname. "I don't see why we should now."</p> + +<p>"Nor, on the whole, do I," Reggie relieved her with his assent. "You +see, it might put Chermside into the deuce of a hole, since he was +undoubtedly acquainted with this chap Levison. He will have to own to +that, anyhow, as he called on Levison once or twice at the <i>Plume</i>, and +the police are sure to have got hold of that. But, though there's +something mysterious about him, Chermside is a gentleman. I cannot +imagine him carving a little Jew all to pieces simply because of a +difference of opinion. He couldn't have had any real motive for doing +such a horrible thing, since they say at the club that he's simply +rolling in coin. And I don't suppose Levison can have been a rival for +the hand of the peerless Violet."</p> + +<p>"That suggestion is nothing short of sacrilege, you rude, crude +sailor-man!" protested Enid. "Well, we are to lie low, then, and keep a +stiff upper lip?"</p> + +<p>"That's about the ticket," Reggie agreed, rising<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> and stretching +himself. "I don't see that one is even called upon to mention that we +were on the marsh and heard that scream. Come, let's clear out of this +and go up to the links. A little golf will be a tonic after the gruesome +parliament we have been having."</p> + +<p>So they went together, dismissing the unpleasant subject with the +facility of youth, and in happy ignorance that a pair of sunken, hungry +orbs were glaring after them from a tiny flaw in the privet hedge—a +spy-hole which Mr. Lazarus Lowch had specially constructed for the +purpose of keeping an eye on the comings and goings of his neighbour. He +had returned from achieving his purpose of being summoned on the jury in +time to hear the last words spoken by Reggie. The contortion which did +duty with him for a saturnine smile creased his facial muscles.</p> + +<p>"So they heard a scream on the marsh and don't mean to say anything +about it, eh? I'll see about that," he muttered, rubbing his scraggy +hands in a transport of malevolent triumph.</p> + +<p>The inquest on Levi Levison was held that afternoon in the long room +at the <i>Plume Hotel</i>—an apartment in much request for public functions +of all kinds, from Volunteer dinners to sombre occasions like the +present. According to precedent Mr. Lowch was chosen foreman, and, +licking his lips with anticipation, went away with his brother jurors to +gloat over the corpse of the little Hebrew. On their return the coroner +at once announced that an adjournment would be necessary, as it had been +found impossible as yet to trace the relations, if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> any, of the +deceased. He would, however, take such evidence as was forthcoming that +day, and leave the police to complete their investigations before the +next occasion.</p> + +<p>The first witness was the landlord of the <i>Plume</i>, who identified the +body as that of a guest who had been stopping at the hotel for a week. +Mr. Levison, he avowed, had been very reticent about the reason of his +coming to Ottermouth, and he seemed to know nobody except a gentleman—a +visitor of the name of Chermside—who had called on him twice during the +week. The deceased had spent a good deal of time out of the hotel, +especially in the evenings.</p> + +<p>Leslie Chermside was then called and sworn. In answer to the coroner, he +stated that he knew very little of Levison, but that the latter had made +certain business proposals to him, and had, he believed, come down to +Ottermouth with the express purpose of making them. Levison came from +London, but he did not know his address there.</p> + +<p>"Have you any objection to informing the jury of the nature of the +business he had with you?" asked the coroner suavely.</p> + +<p>Leslie faced his interrogator squarely, a slight frown of intelligible +annoyance contracting his brows. "I should prefer not to," he made +answer. "The business was of a very private nature."</p> + +<p>"You can, perhaps, at least state to the Court what his occupation was?"</p> + +<p>"I believe he called himself a financial agent," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"One more question I am bound to ask you, Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> Chermside," pursued the +coroner with a deprecatory wave of his hand: "Were you in the company of +the deceased on Wednesday evening last?"</p> + +<p>"Most certainly I was not," said Leslie firmly. "I have not spoken to or +been with Levison since the morning of the previous day, when he called +for me at the club, and we discussed our business during a short walk."</p> + +<p>The word had gone round that the bronzed young soldier from India, who +occupied the best-furnished apartments in the town, was very wealthy, +with a steam yacht lying at Portland, and this had been communicated to +the coroner by the police sergeant. Leslie was therefore politely +informed that he might stand down, though it might be necessary to +recall him at the adjournment.</p> + +<p>The next witness was Mr. Mallory. In brief snappy sentences he briefly +described how he had found the body in the pool on the marsh while +strolling about after the picnic-tea given by the tenant of the Manor +House. Mr. Mallory's manner was distinctly that of the old official, who +was aware of the fact that he was a merely formal witness. If only the +coroner could have penetrated the thoughts which that sphinxlike +demeanour veiled he would have started his officer hot-foot to fetch +certain witnesses who were not in the room, even as spectators. Travers +Nugent was playing pool at the club, and Mademoiselle Louise Aubin was +attending to her young mistress's wardrobe a couple of miles away at the +Manor.</p> + +<p>Then followed the doctor, who described the dead man's injuries, and in +doing so cleared the ground<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> of all doubt as to it being a case of +murder. Not only had Levi Levison been slain, but he had fallen by the +hand of some one who had literally "savaged" him to death. For the gash +in the throat was but an item in a whole series of wounds inflicted on +the hapless Jew's body. He had been stabbed three times in the back and +once in the chest, any one of the wounds being in itself sufficient to +kill.</p> + +<p>Sergeant Bruce, in charge of the local force, and a singularly +intelligent specimen of the provincial police officer, added his +testimony, most of it being concerned with the condition of the ground. +A careful examination had led him to adopt the theory that the fatal +blows had been struck while the victim was on the footpath, and that the +murderer had then carried the body across the swamp to the foot of the +railway embankment, and had there flung it into the pool.</p> + +<p>"That," said the coroner, "is as far as I propose to take the case +to-day."</p> + +<p>But it was not, it appeared, as far as Mr. Lazarus Lowch proposed to +take it. Bobbing up from his seat like a jack-in-the-box, the foreman +wagged a minatory finger at Reggie Beauchamp, whom he had singled out +among the audience.</p> + +<p>"Before we adjourn, sir, I should like to ask Mr. Beauchamp there a +question. I have reason to know that he is concealing a material piece +of evidence," Lowch declaimed in his husky voice, lowering at his prey.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory, wedged in, alert and watchful, near the door, gazed +thoughtfully across at his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> young friend. The lieutenant was already +shouldering his way towards the witness-stand, and the old diplomatist +noted not only a burning anger in the usually good-humoured boyish face, +but a trace of something like consternation. The former sentiment he +could understand, for it was nothing new for the methods of Lazarus +Lowch to provoke wrath, but what could account for the dashing sailor's +palpable nervousness?</p> + +<p>At a nod from the coroner Reggie was sworn, and confronted the foreman +with a defiant: "Well, sir, I presume that you were eavesdropping behind +my mother's garden hedge this morning?"</p> + +<p>Lowch ignored the innuendo. "Were you on the marsh late on Wednesday +evening, Mr. Beauchamp?" he demanded, in the tone of a grand inquisitor.</p> + +<p>"I was," admitted Reggie, shrugging his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"In the company of a young lady?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," with a scowl for the friendly titter that ran round the room.</p> + +<p>"As a gentleman, I abstain from pressing for the lady's name, though +doubtless it can be guessed by many in this assemblage," proceeded Lowch +pompously. "Let me ask if you and your companion heard a scream on the +marsh that night?"</p> + +<p>"I am glad you labour the point of your being a gentleman," said Reggie +sweetly. "Yes, we heard some kind of a cry. I thought it was a sea-bird, +or possibly a snared rabbit."</p> + +<p>"Then why did you not come forward when you knew that a murder had been +committed and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> inform the police of what you had heard?" came the +supplementary query.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory's wise old head was cocked a little on one side to catch the +answer. From his attitude he seemed to set considerable store by it.</p> + +<p>"Because," said Reggie slowly, "I didn't think that the cry necessarily +had anything to do with the case. I know from experience that there are +all sorts of queer noises on the marsh after dark—hooting owls, barking +foxes, and a hundred things."</p> + +<p>Lazarus Lowch subsided suddenly into his seat with an air of great +achievement, and Reggie, perceiving that he had exhausted his capacity +for making himself disagreeable, turned with an engaging smile to the +coroner. "I hope I have done nothing serious, sir," he said cheerily. +"This person seems to accuse me of some terrible misdemeanour, but you +will understand that unless one's evidence is really vital to the issue +one doesn't want to be needlessly dragged into these little turn-ups."</p> + +<p>The coroner, a good fellow with a taste for saltwater "breeziness," +smiled in friendly fashion, and promptly adjourned the Court.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Vernon Mallory was not so easily satisfied. "The boy is +concealing something," he muttered as he allowed himself to be carried +with the human stream out into the sunlight.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE LURE OF LOVE</h3> + + +<p>Leslie Chermside walked away from the inquest like a man in a dream. It +was only a few steps to the house where he lodged, and he at once sought +the seclusion of his own sitting-room—a shady apartment with long +windows opening on to a cool verandah, whence there was a distant view +of the headland at the river's mouth and of the sea beyond.</p> + +<p>"At any rate, I do not think that I am an object of suspicion—yet," he +murmured with a bitter laugh when he had stood staring from one of the +windows with unseeing eyes for some minutes. "And, as I more than half +expected, Travers Nugent did not disclose my appointment with that +wretched little scally-wag."</p> + +<p>Turning away, he lit his pipe and flung himself into a long chair to +review the situation. At the best his position was a perilous one, and +he was very conscious of the necessity of not lulling himself into a +false security because of that day's immunity. But he had at least +obtained a reprieve, and for the present he was free to concentrate all +his energies on keeping watch and ward over Violet. That Travers Nugent +had not abandoned his compact with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> the Maharajah because of his own +defection he felt sure. For, looked at by the light of the event of that +afternoon, the inactivity of Bhagwan Singh's agent seemed ominously +sinister—the more so as it was entirely problematical.</p> + +<p>If Nugent had played the obvious card of revealing what he knew about +the meeting on the marsh arranged between Levison and Leslie, the latter +would almost certainly have been arrested, and so had his wings clipped +for further opposition to Nugent's plans. But this obvious and drastic +course would have laid Nugent's flank open to the counter-attack of full +confession by a desperate man, and he had been far too cunning to run +that risk. No, he must be working by subtler and more tortuous methods +towards the attainment of his purpose—the embarkation of Violet Maynard +on board the turbine yacht <i>Cobra</i>.</p> + +<p>Leslie gave his antagonist full credit for cold calculation of all the +chances. He was under no illusion as to the apparent complaisance with +which his rebellion had been accepted, and as to Nugent's quiescence in +the matter of Levison's murder. He was assured that he was only sitting +there at liberty because he was of more use to Mr. Travers Nugent in the +freedom of that comfortable room than he would have been in a cell at +the police-station charged with murder.</p> + +<p>Rising from his chair with a sudden impulse, Leslie knocked the ashes +out of his pipe. As always happens to the man in love, he had persuaded +himself that the wisest course to pursue was the one which jumped with +his inclinations.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I will force his hand," he said half aloud. "I will spend all the time +I can with Violet, and I will begin at once. My constant presence will +be the best safeguard she can have."</p> + +<p>Mounting his bicycle, he made short work of the two miles to the lodge +gates of the Manor House, and as luck would have it whom should he see +coming towards him along the drive but Violet herself. She was looking +deliciously cool and dainty in a coat and skirt of white drill, which +set off her tall, graceful figure to perfection. Leslie's pulses +quickened at sight of the pleased surprise and heightened colour in her +face as she saw him.</p> + +<p>"I didn't expect you to-day," she said, when he had jumped off his +machine. "I thought that you would be kept by that horrid affair in the +town, but I suppose you couldn't shed any light on it."</p> + +<p>"It was soon over—adjourned for a week," replied Leslie. "As I was able +to get away, I saw no reason why this should be a day entirely wasted."</p> + +<p>Violet shot a glance at him from under the deep-fringed lids which had +given the critics their cue for their ravings over her Academy picture. +There was a warmth in the tone of the neatly-turned little speech that +had been lacking in their intercourse of late. The millionaire's +daughter had never disguised from herself the singular attraction which +this sun-browned, well-knit young soldier from India had for her from +the moment of their first meeting a month ago. And he had begun to woo +her so bravely and openly, only to slacken his ardour after a week into +an indifference which was almost insult after such warm beginnings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p>No woman of spirit cares to be treated like goods sent out "on +approval"—to be analytically inspected and then cast aside as not quite +up to the mark. Especially if she happens to be the acknowledged beauty +of the London season, and so lavishly dowered as to have had half the +bachelor peerage at her feet. It speaks wonders, therefore, for the +efficiency as a lover which Leslie Chermside had shown when he wasn't in +love, that now, when he was, Violet should have behaved as she did.</p> + +<p>"Let us go and be lazy on that seat by the sundial in the rose garden," +she said, with a smile of invitation.</p> + +<p>It was all that Leslie asked for—to be near her, to worship her, to +feel her gracious presence, and, above all, by his unceasing +watchfulness, to avert the peril of the steamer with the giant +horse-power lurking thirty miles away along the coast. That was all that +was in his mind as he wheeled his bicycle at her side over the turf that +lay between the drive and the rosery. But half an hour amid the late +blooms of the old world pleasaunce was to alter all that modest scheme. +Leslie Chermside had made the mistake of reckoning without heed to the +power that had them in thrall—the mighty power of love.</p> + +<p>Neither of them ever knew how it came about. When they first sat down +there was a shy constraint between them that seemed to hold them apart. +They talked at random of trifles, with an obvious effort at searching +for subjects. Violet even referred to the inquest on Levison, though in +such a manner as to show that she plainly took only a superficial +interest in it. It made Leslie shudder to hear her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> touch so lightly on +a matter in which, though she was not aware of it, she was so nearly +concerned.</p> + +<p>Gradually and imperceptibly the awkward attempt at making conversation +ceased, and the silence that supervened was threatening to become more +awkward still, when Violet said suddenly:</p> + +<p>"I believe that your heart is in India, Mr. Chermside—anywhere but in +Ottermouth. You always—latterly at least—seem to me to be living in +the past, or, perhaps, in the future. When your yacht is ready for sea, +I suppose that you will lose no time in going back to the East?"</p> + +<p>Leslie started, and came back to earth. "If you only knew the price I +paid to get out of India you would not say that," he answered gravely. +"And I am afraid that you are incorrect in your other surmises, Miss +Maynard. I am neither living in a past which has nothing to recommend +it, or in a future which is not alluring. As a matter of fact, I am just +drifting—and revelling in the present."</p> + +<p>He did not look at her as he spoke. He was staring straight before him +at a trellis arch groaning under a weight of crimson rambler roses, but +at the suggestion of trouble in his voice the girl swayed nearer to him.</p> + +<p>"I wish you would be as frank with me as I am with you," she said. "A +woman's sympathy counts for much sometimes. Forgive me for saying that +you puzzle me, and one isn't puzzled where one isn't interested. You +don't convey the impression of a man with a discreditable career behind +him, and from the accepted accounts of your position your prospects are +assured from a worldly point of view. A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> month ago I thought—I +hoped—that we were going to be friends. We had begun to exchange +confidences in a mild sort of way. Will you not confide in me now more +fully, and tell me if there is anything in which I can help?"</p> + +<p>In that moment, listening to her sweet proffer of womanly aid, Leslie +suffered the most exquisite torture. This was the girl whom he had +lightly condemned to a fate worse than death—a fate which he had +pledged himself to compass by deceitfully gaining her love. He turned +and looked at her, and he knew that the priceless guerdon which he had +played for as a mere counter in a disgraceful game had been won. And now +that it was his—now that he valued it for its own sake more than all +the treasures in the world—he could not take it. His reawakened sense +of honour forbade him to think of such desecration. How could he, +wastrel and pauper, have aspired to this queenly maiden, even if his +soul had not been soiled by the memory of his infamous bargain?</p> + +<p>"I am not worthy one passing thought from you—still less to give you my +confidence," he faltered. "Confidence!" he went on, with something like +a groan of anguish. "Why, I would rather lose the power of speech for +ever than befoul your ears with the record of my shame."</p> + +<p>Her eyes, like twin pools of shining radiance, were searching his face. +"That is for me to judge," she said softly. "But I do not, on second +thoughts, ask you for your confidence, Mr. Chermside. I have faith in my +instinct. I do not believe that you have done anything really +base—whatever, perhaps,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> after sore temptation, you may have +contemplated. You would have stopped short when you realized that you +were on the brink of an evil deed. And—and if you hadn't stopped short +I—well, I, perhaps, should have tried to make allowances. So, if you +cannot give me your confidence, at least let me give you my help."</p> + +<p>"Help?" came the man's sobbing cry, as the blood surged into his brain, +and all barriers of conscience, expedience, and common-sense were swept +away in a whirlpool of riotous passion—"it is your love I want, my +darling. The love of such as you means not only help but regeneration, +life itself, to such as I."</p> + +<p>By the great laws that govern us, these things happen so, and the love +of Leslie Chermside and Violet Maynard had passed beyond the region of +words and of petty sophistries. They were locked in each other's arms, +eye to eye and lip to lip, at that moment of glad surrender in the +solitude of the rose garden—a solitude that was not entirely solitary.</p> + +<p>For from behind the high box-hedge that hemmed them in, the French maid, +Louise Aubin, glided across the silent turf back to the house, her +piquant features contracted in a venomous frown. She had come out to +seek her young mistress on some trifling errand, but, having found her, +decided to retreat without fulfilling it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>THE PEERING EYES</h3> + + +<p>Rumour at Ottermouth had a trick of travelling as quickly as it does +through the bazaars of the East. When the French maid turned away from +the rose garden, after seeing Violet Maynard in Leslie Chermside's arms, +she was already aware of the proceedings at the inquest held earlier in +the afternoon. She knew, therefore, that the gentleman whose love affair +seemed to be prospering so gaily had been called as a witness, and had +owned to an acquaintance with her deceased admirer.</p> + +<p>Now mademoiselle was an adept at swift deduction, and, putting two and +two together, she had arrived at the conclusion that this Mr. Chermside, +who had admitted having business relations with Levi Levison, must be +the individual whom Mr. Travers Nugent suspected. Mr. Nugent had assured +her that he had ascertained that Levison had appointed to meet some one +on the marsh on the fatal evening. It followed as almost a certainty +that the appointment must have been with the gentleman who had a +mysterious connexion with Levison, the nature of which he refused to +divulge.</p> + +<p>And now this <i>scélérat</i>, this assassin who had ruined<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> her prospects by +untimely removing the amorous "financial agent," was making successful +love to Miss Violet. It was preposterous, and not to be countenanced for +a moment, that the murderer should carry off the great heiress, while +his cruel crime had relegated her, Louise Aubin, to a probable future of +celibate poverty. If only in her young mistress's interest, the +atrocious thing must be nipped in the bud.</p> + +<p>But mademoiselle was endowed with a fair share of French caution, the +quality which kindly Nature supplies to balance French impulse, and she +was not going to jeopardize a comfortable and lucrative situation by +making a premature move. She must first put it beyond all doubt that the +man whom Mr. Levi Levison had arranged to meet on the marsh was the man +whom she had just seen in the rose garden, and to that end she must take +counsel with that dear gentleman who had saved her from the error of +denouncing Pierre Legros.</p> + +<p>"Ce cher Monsieur Nugent—'e admire me just a leetle himself, I think," +she murmured, as she tripped back to the house across the lawn. "I make +'im tell me all he knows."</p> + +<p>Whereby Mademoiselle Louise Aubin showed herself to be of sanguine +temperament, but a poor student of the art of reading men.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, when Mr. Travers Nugent was sitting in his cosy +dining-room at The Hut that evening, peeling peaches and sipping his +claret in the soft glow of shaded lamps, his sphinx-like manservant, +Sinnett, entered, and, without a word, handed him a folded slip of +paper. Nugent read<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> it with a twitch at the corner of his mouth, and +looked up sharply.</p> + +<p>"Did any one beside yourself see this lady come?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Can't have, sir," was the reply. "She came to the front door, and I +admitted her myself. It is pitch-dark outside, so none of the maids can +have seen her walking up the drive."</p> + +<p>"Then you can show her in," said Nugent. "It is business, Sinnett, but +we don't want any village scandal. There are a score of gossiping old +women in this place who would give their wigs to know that I had +received a smart Frenchwoman in the seclusion of my dining-room, eh?"</p> + +<p>A grim smile was the only answer, and presently the man of few words +returned, ushering in Mademoiselle Louise. Faithful to his policy of +treating her with all respect, Nugent rose with outstretched hand as she +minced towards him. There was just enough pleased surprise in his manner +to conceal the fact that by paying him this visit she was only +fulfilling his calculated expectations.</p> + +<p>"This is good of you, mademoiselle," he said in his soft accents. "You +will be fatigued after your long walk from the Manor House. Sit down and +let me give you a glass of wine from your own sunny France before you +tell me how I can be of service to you."</p> + +<p>The fair Louise simpered, and seated herself at the well-appointed +dessert table. For that night, if for no longer, she had mounted several +rungs in the social ladder, and in that thought was compensation for the +loss of her "financial agent"—also encouragement for the future. This +kindly-spoken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> gentleman of middle-age was evidently "taken" with her, +and there could be no better way, she told herself, of winning and +clinching his further regard than by professing a whole-hearted devotion +to her last lover.</p> + +<p>"I have some news for you, monsieur," she said, when she had sipped the +claret poured out by her host. "And, in return, I come to demand, nay, +to implore, some information from you."</p> + +<p>"Then it must be my privilege to oblige you first, if it is in my +power," smiled Nugent. "I trust, however, that you do not still suspect +your fellow-countryman, Legros, of the foul deed that robbed you of your +friend. Believe me, he is guiltless."</p> + +<p>"It is not Pierre Legros that I suspect, monsieur, thanks to your +guidance the other day," replied Louise coquettishly. "I was convinced +then that the murderer of the poor Levison was the man who was to meet +him on the marsh, and now—to-day, at the inquest, comes the straw that +makes to show the blow of the wind. Monsieur Chermside was a witness, +and admitted that he had affairs of business with Levison."</p> + +<p>"Well?" Nugent purred gently at his pretty visitor.</p> + +<p>"My little stupid wits figure from that, monsieur, that it was Chermside +who was to meet the unfortunate one on the marsh. I have paid you this +call, at so great risk to my reputation, to find out if for once my +little stupid wits are right. You will not disappoint me. Say, I beseech +you, if Chermside was the man with whom my poor one had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> arranged the +rendezvous in that so desolate spot."</p> + +<p>Nugent was moved with inward laughter at the impressive speech, at the +ogling glances accompanying it. He was quite aware of the personal +element the minx was endeavouring to import into their relations. +Outwardly his face wore the semblance of a severe mental struggle.</p> + +<p>"I cannot resist your appeal, Mademoiselle Aubin," he said at last, +sighing a little as if in regret that his better judgment should be +vanquished by the feminine charms across the table. "I had hoped to keep +it to myself a little longer, while prosecuting inquiries which will +bring the crime home to this black-hearted villain without allowing an +outlet for escape. But I cannot deny you the solace of sharing the +secret with me, knowing that, our aims being identical, you will +preserve it till the time comes to strike. Yes, Leslie Chermside was the +man who had promised to complete a certain transaction with Levi Levison +at the spot where the latter was foully done to death."</p> + +<p>It is easy to speak with your tongue in your cheek, and if the cheek is +large enough no one need catch a glimpse of the tongue. At any rate, +Louise Aubin did not. Confident in her potent fascinations, she +swallowed the purposely grandiose words like so much milk and honey, and +beamed ecstatically on the wily orator, more in delight at the +sentiments she believed the communication to denote than at the +communication itself. Levi Levison was beginning to take a very shadowy +back seat in the affections of Mademoiselle Louise Aubin.</p> + +<p>"Then, monsieur," she said, gracefully quaffing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> her glass at him, "I +shall not be behindhand in civeelity. I shall—what you call it—place +myself in your hands for the right time to punish Chermside, and in the +meanwhile the secret is buried deep in my heart. Now for your repayment +for your kind help, though it is only a tiny piece of news. The villain +so despicable, upon whom we desire the avenge, is in love with my—with +Miss Maynard. I come from observing them this very afternoon, monsieur, +in the rose garden, where they were embracing and using words of +endearment."</p> + +<p>And mademoiselle draped her eyes with their long, dark lashes, as though +her maiden modesty quailed before the reminiscence.</p> + +<p>As for Nugent, he did not disguise the fact that the information had for +him the keenest interest. Rising from his chair, he lit a cigarette and +began to pace the room.</p> + +<p>"Really, I am greatly indebted to you for this information," he said. +"The knowledge of Miss Maynard's infatuation for a man so utterly +unworthy of her will alter my plans, or rather, hurry them to a crisis. +I am, as perhaps you are aware, mademoiselle, a friend of Mr. Montague +Maynard. I have, therefore, now a double incitement to bring Chermside +to justice—that of saving my friend's daughter from a horrible +mésalliance, and of securing for you the satisfaction which you so +justly desire."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Chermside is very rich, is he not?" asked Louise, her cunning but +unequal brain beginning to weave an entirely new web, in which she was +ultimately to entangle herself.</p> + +<p>Travers Nugent shot a glance at her as she toyed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> with the stem of her +wine-glass. For the moment her question caused him a trifling +embarrassment. He would have liked to have answered it differently, but +he reflected that it would be dangerous to do so, for this woman was by +no means a fool. He was credited, rightly, with the introduction at +Ottermouth of Leslie Chermside as a man of wealth. His letter to the +secretary of the club would be on file to prove it, and by that he must +abide—for the present.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Chermside has the command of vast resources," was his guarded +answer. "But I do not think that he will need to plead that argument +with a girl of Miss Maynard's character. His worldly position will not +weigh with her for an instant if she loves him. She is rich enough for +two, you see."</p> + +<p>But apparently mademoiselle did not see. Just then she had lost the +thread of that newly-woven web on which her busy wits had set to work, +and she was staring at one of the long windows. Travers Nugent was +something of an artist by temperament, and on sitting down to dinner he +had had the blinds left up so as to enjoy the dying after-glow in the +western sky.</p> + +<p>"The eyes! The peering eyes!" Louise exclaimed in a tense whisper.</p> + +<p>Following the direction of her gaze, Nugent in four rapid strides +reached the window, and, flinging it open, dragged into the well-lit +room the lithe and sinewy form of a man dressed in blue jean. It was the +French onion-seller whom Aunt Sarah Dymmock had driven from the +precincts of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> Manor House at the point of her sunshade. Louise +uttered a suppressed shriek as Nugent released his grip on the +Frenchman's collar and carefully closed the window.</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon Dieu!</i> it is Pierre Legros," she cried, looking from one to the +other of the two men in sheer bewilderment, in which there was a trace +of fear.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is I—Pierre," said the onion-seller in his native tongue, +scowling at his fair compatriot. "Is it that you have acquired the habit +of supping alone with gentlemen above your station, as well as of +meeting them in the lonely places of the country? You have sadly +changed, Louise, since we played barefoot together among the rocks of +Dicamp."</p> + +<p>In the dawn of her new ambition the reminder of her humble origin goaded +the girl to a fury that dispelled her temporary fear. "Barefoot!" she +shrilled. "Miserable one, you know quite well that I was never so, and +that if you had the presumption to worship me it was from down below—as +a pig may gaze at the stars. I came to this English gentleman to help me +punish the murderer of my dear friend Monsieur Levison."</p> + +<p>There was malice in every spitting syllable of the tirade, and more than +malice in the baleful look she cast at the sullen Frenchman. Travers +Nugent glanced at her a little anxiously, and hastened to intervene. It +would not suit his book at all for Louise to revert, out of petty spite, +to her original suspicion—to the prejudice of the later one he had been +at such pains to inspire.</p> + +<p>"What mademoiselle asserts is absolutely true," he said in French, +fixing Pierre's fierce eyes in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> hypnotic stare. "She is greatly +concerned to catch the murderer, and I hope to hand over to justice the +English rascal who committed the crime on the marsh. And just a word of +advice to you, Legros. You had better keep a civil tongue in your head, +or you may find yourself in trouble. Mademoiselle Aubin and I, of +course, know that you had nothing to do with the matter, but the police +might think differently if they got wind of your jealous ravings."</p> + +<p>Pondering on, and impressed by, the slight emphasis put on the word +English, the onion-seller hung his head, muttering to himself. Nugent +took the opportunity to touch the bell, and having done so turned to +Louise.</p> + +<p>"I think that we have concluded our affairs for this evening, +mademoiselle," he said with a cool politeness, the purport of which the +clever Frenchwoman was quick to appreciate. "You shall be kept informed +of the latest developments, and now my servant shall escort you to the +road, for I must have a private word with Legros. Sinnett," to the +silent henchman who had appeared, "accompany this lady down the drive, +please."</p> + +<p>Sinnett understood by the ocular signal that his master flashed at him +that Mademoiselle Aubin's departure from the premises was to be +accomplished without witnesses, and he gravely followed the somewhat +mystified visitor out. Neither by look or gesture did he express the +slightest surprise at seeing an unkempt and none too clean foreigner in +the room. Ten years in the service of Mr. Travers Nugent had killed the +faculty of astonishment, or, at any rate, had taught him that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> the +outward and visible signs thereof were inadvisable.</p> + +<p>Directly the door was shut on them Nugent's manner underwent a rapid +transformation. All the suave polish was gone. He became the brute and +the bully—the man with the whip-hand. He was not in the least +handicapped by having to express himself in French, because he spoke all +European languages as fluently as his own. He showered every vile +epithet he could think of on the onion-seller, calling him fool, dolt, +and everything by turn, and then, when he had pulverized the still +scowling but crest-fallen sailor into abject humiliation he demanded—</p> + +<p>"Why, in the name of all that is idiotic, did you disregard my +instructions and come here to the house? I told you that nothing but the +last extremity would warrant any intercourse between us."</p> + +<p>Pierre Legros raised his bloodshot eyes in half-defiant remonstrance. "I +came because I thought it was what you call the last extremity," he +said. "There has been some one on the quay at Exmouth to-day asking +questions of me. He also go on board our vessel and speak with my +captain."</p> + +<p>"You think he was a detective?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur; he was not of the police. I believe him to be a +gentleman. He lives here in Ottermouth. I see him often when I sell my +onions up the street—an old man with no hair on his face, dressed in +fine clothes, and having eyes that pierce like needles. Though of so +great age, he walks very quick and upright."</p> + +<p>Nugent took a turn up the room, frowning and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> biting his lips. "So!" he +murmured to himself. "Mr. Vernon Mallory has to be reckoned with as +still on the active list, eh?" And coming back to where Legros was +standing, he added aloud, in more conciliatory tones: "You did right in +bringing me this news, my friend. The gentleman is meddlesome, but there +is no reason why he should become dangerous if you are discreet."</p> + +<p>"I was discreet, monsieur," rejoined Legros. "The grey-head <i>Anglais</i> +set springes as one sets them for birds, but I was wary, and walked all +round. And Jules Epitaux, my captain, he make fool of the old man."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," said Nugent drily. "But if it is a sample of your +discretion that we have been having in this room to-night, my opinion of +it is not high, Pierre Legros. You must learn to curb that insane +jealousy of yours, or you will have Louise on to you like a wild cat. +Your conduct was base ingratitude, seeing that I stopped her from +setting the police at you."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, monsieur; I was taken by surprise, and I did not +understand," replied the onion-seller submissively, as he passed out of +the window which Nugent held significantly open.</p> + +<p>But once outside in the darkness, setting out on the four-mile trudge +back to his ship, he began to mutter to himself, and the refrain of the +inaudible babble was always the same, recurring a hundred times as he +stumbled along the moorland track—</p> + +<p>"Louise goes to console herself, but not with Pierre. Poor Pierre! He +will have to strike—always strike—if he is betrayed."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>THE <i>COBRA'S</i> SAILING ORDERS</h3> + + +<p>Nine o'clock in the morning was a busy time in a mild way at the +Ottermouth Railway Station. The budding resort was served by only a +branch line with a single set of rails, and at this hour the first two +trains of the day in each direction passed each other here.</p> + +<p>Mr. Travers Nugent stood at the window of the booking office, waiting +till the slide should be raised, and biting his long fair moustache in +annoyance because out of the tail of his eye he had just discovered that +the next intending passenger in the row behind him was Lieutenant +Reginald Beauchamp. He had quite a poor opinion of the lieutenant's +intelligence, but he was aware of his close acquaintance with the +Mallorys, and there were reasons why he would have preferred to conceal +his destination that day from the shrewd old civil servant.</p> + +<p>However, the wooden slide was raised, and Nugent could not avoid asking +for his ticket—a first-class return to Weymouth. It was not till he had +picked up his change and passed on that he affected to notice his +successor at the window.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah, Beauchamp! Going my way I hope?" he said genially. "I am compelled +to go to Weymouth for the day, to look up a sick relative. Beastly +nuisance having to play the good Samaritan in such hot weather."</p> + +<p>Reggie, before replying, planked down his money and asked for a return +ticket to Plymouth. "No," he replied as he joined Nugent. "As you heard, +I am going in the opposite direction. My little torpedo craft requires +my attention."</p> + +<p>"Sorry I'm not to have the pleasure of your company," said the elder man +courteously. "Surely your leave isn't up yet?"</p> + +<p>"No," Reggie replied. "I have another ten days to run, but I have to see +about one or two little matters of shipping stores and ammunition. I +hope to be back to-night or to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>On the platform the two separated, Reggie getting into the train which +would take him to the western naval seaport, and Nugent crossing the +line by the footbridge to the east-bound train.</p> + +<p>"I trust that that nautical noodle will have forgotten all about our +meeting by to-morrow," Nugent communed with himself as he chose a corner +seat in an unoccupied compartment. "It would not be advisable for +Mallory, with his wonderful faculty for piecing trifles together, to +know that I had paid a flying visit to the port where Chermside's +alleged yacht is fitting out."</p> + +<p>He leaned back in his cushioned corner and further reflected that even +if Mr. Mallory was informed by young Beauchamp that he had been to +Weymouth no irremediable harm could come of it. It was even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> possible +that the incident might be converted into an advantage. He had good +reason not to despise Mr. Mallory's capabilities, but that astute old +gentleman could not thwart his scheme without a fuller knowledge of it, +and that could only be gained from Leslie Chermside, who in his present +circumstance as Violet Maynard's accepted lover would probably prefer +death to confession.</p> + +<p>"My immediate policy must be to preserve the renegade's life at all +hazards, while threatening it by means of the fair Louise," Nugent +smiled contemptuously. "Though what Bhagwan Singh will do to him when he +is delivered at Sindkhote is another matter," the arch plotter added +under his breath as he unfolded his newspaper and resigned himself to +the tedium of the journey.</p> + +<p>He reached Weymouth at noon, and at once made his way into the old town, +where he turned to the left down the one-sided street of shipping +offices and public houses that faces the harbour. The brick and mortar +side of the street had no interest for him. His gaze was always for the +long row of vessels moored to the quay wall. He walked on, past the +wharf where the red-funnelled Great Western boats lay, and came to a +halt opposite a large 2,000 ton steam yacht. A handsomely appointed +craft she was, with something of the snake in her long, low, graceful +lines, and evidently built for speed as well as comfort. The heavy gilt +lettering on her stern proclaimed to all and sundry that she was called +the <i>Cobra</i>.</p> + +<p>The gang plank was down, and Nugent stepped lightly across it on to the +main deck, where his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> further progress was promptly barred by a +bullet-headed ship's officer in a smart blue suit and a brass-banded +cap.</p> + +<p>"Here! you don't own the bally vessel," said this individual rudely. +"Not quite so fast, if you please. What's your business?"</p> + +<p>"I am a friend of Captain Brant's; if he is on board and if you will +kindly have my card taken to him I have no doubt that he will see me," +replied Nugent with his usual suave politeness.</p> + +<p>The officer called a seaman, and, having dispatched him with the card, +became roughly apologetic. "That's a horse of another colour," he +growled. "Strict orders against strangers on this ship. Couldn't let you +on if you were the skipper's own brother, and the skipper's the devil."</p> + +<p>"My dear sir, I congratulate you on your discretion," rejoined Nugent +affably. "I don't mind telling you that if you had let me on without +orders you wouldn't have enjoyed your billet another hour. As it is, you +will be like the nice little boy in the Sunday school who had a good +mark put against his name."</p> + +<p>The bullet-headed mate spat thoughtfully over the bulwarks, and then, as +he realized the position, broke into an evil grin.</p> + +<p>"I see," he chuckled. "You're the power behind the throne, eh? I guess +if I'd known that I'd have given you a bit of stronger lip. What the +blooming game is I don't want to know, but I can see it's going to be a +funny sort of cruise."</p> + +<p>The bluejacket, whose brutal features, Nugent observed with cynical +satisfaction, were at curious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> variance with his trim, yacht-like +attire, returned, and said that Captain Brant would receive the visitor +at once. Nugent followed his conductor to a cabin under the bridge, the +occupant of which, a little wisp of a man with an elongated, pear-shaped +cranium, prominent teeth, and a yellow complexion, advanced with a +strange, hopping gait to greet his guest.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he said with an uncanny hissing intake of breath, "I am charmed to +see you, Mr. Nugent. The honour of your visit means that we are to get a +move on us at last, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"It points that way," replied Nugent guardedly as he took the seat +offered him. "Your anxiety to be off means that you are having trouble +with the crew, I am afraid, Brant?"</p> + +<p>The repulsive captain twisted his features into a grimace that would +have curdled milk, at the same time emitting a sound like the snarl of a +wolf. "The maintenance of discipline among a lot of toughs like those I +selected isn't child's play," he said. "It only wants a rule of three +sum to find out how soon I shall have no crew at all if we are to lay +idle here much longer. I've had to shoot one as dead as Queen Anne and +crack the heads of four others for kicking over the traces."</p> + +<p>The answer, delivered coolly and as a matter of course, seemed ludicrous +coming from the undersized, deformed creature with the top-heavy head. +But Nugent evidently knew his man, for he merely nodded comprehension +and approval. "It is because you are such a holy terror, Brant, that I +selected you for the job," he said. "There was bound to be trouble, at +the start of a cruise for which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> the hands were induced to join by the +promise of a rich reward, if any hitch occurred."</p> + +<p>"It is entirely the delay that caused the ructions," the captain +assented. "You see, they don't know whether they're on a treasure hunt +or what, and they're in a hurry to finger the pieces. To keep 'em from +letting their jaw tackle run in the pubs I didn't allow much shore +liberty—none at all since I had to pump Black Jake, a fireman, full of +lead for inciting to mutiny."</p> + +<p>"But how about the—er—necessary formalities?" asked Nugent, genuinely +interested in the drastic methods of his instrument.</p> + +<p>Captain Brant uttered the unpleasant combination of croak and wheeze +that did duty with him for a laugh. "You mean the inquest and funeral? +We have no use for little extras like them on the <i>Cobra</i>. I'm the law +on this ship. I took a kind of a trial trip out to sea for a couple of +hours, and cremated Black Jake in his own furnace. That put the fear of +the devil into the rest, and we're a happy family now. I wouldn't +guarantee to hold 'em for more than a fortnight, though, tied up to this +cursed quay. The officers are right enough. Bully Cheeseman, the chap +who was at the gangway when you boarded us, is a fair scorcher. Twenty +years ago he was suspected of being Jack the Ripper; and Wiley the +second mate, as you know, has done time for manslaughter."</p> + +<p>Travers Nugent gazed thoughtfully through the circular window of the +deck-cabin at the teeming quay-side, and the array of public-houses +across the road. He was not at all dissatisfied with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> state of +things prevailing on the <i>Cobra</i>. It had justified his choice of a +skipper. If this frail little atomy with the body of an imp and the soul +of a Thug, could isolate and hold in check a crew of cut-throats +recruited from the slums of Limehouse, within sight of the drink-shops +over the way, he was not likely to fail at the crucial moment.</p> + +<p>And it was to expedite that crucial moment that Nugent had paid his +surprise visit to the <i>Cobra</i>.</p> + +<p>"I'm not finding fault, Brant," he said. "At least, not with you and +your management of affairs. The blame rests on the mean-spirited cur who +has kept the ship dallying here in port while he was going back on his +bargain and playing a double game with me. However, you'll have him on +board in a few days, I hope, and among your final instructions will be +one to let him have a particularly warm time of it."</p> + +<p>"I'll keel-haul the swine morning and evening if you like," growled +Brant, "or give him a taste of the cat."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't want you to be tender with him," laughed Nugent, "so long +as you leave enough of him for delivery to the consignee. But here is +what I ran over to tell you. On receipt of a wire containing the one +word 'Advance,' you will leave port and steam to the westward at such a +speed as will take you abreast of Ottermouth after sundown. Don't bring +the ship nearer inshore than three miles, but lay to till you see a blue +light, and then a green, shown about half a mile to the west of the +town."</p> + +<p>"Just a moment. Let's fix it up accurate,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> interrupted the captain. "We +mustn't have any such words as 'about' in a job of this kind. Point out +the exact place on this ordnance map, please."</p> + +<p>"There, at the foot of that cleft in the cliff marked Coldbrook Chine," +said Nugent, placing his finger on the map section which Captain Brant +spread before him on the cabin table. "I have chosen the spot because it +is hidden from the coast-guard station by this jutting angle in the wall +of cliff."</p> + +<p>"The signal wouldn't be visible from the station?" croaked Brant.</p> + +<p>"Quite impossible. When you see the blue and green lights, all you have +to do is to send the electric launch, manned by three trustworthy and +well-armed men, to the beach at the foot of the chine. The launch will +pick up a passenger, and as soon as he has been put aboard the steamer, +will return to the same spot and pick up another. On the second occasion +I myself shall be there, and will hand your officer a sealed packet +containing your final instructions. It is even possible that I may come +aboard and hand them to you in person."</p> + +<p>The weird little deformity laughed his horrible laugh. "Pleased to see +you, I'm sure," he responded, when the convulsions in his throat had +ceased. "You might be making the voyage with us, I reckon?"</p> + +<p>"God forbid!" exclaimed Travers Nugent fervently.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>FOOL'S PARADISE LOST</h3> + + +<p>Leslie Chermside walked out of his lodgings in the Ottermouth main +street and struck downwards towards the parade. He had promised to take +Violet Maynard and Aunt Sarah Dymmock out for a sail in a boat he had +hired, and, lover-like, he was nearly an hour ahead of the appointment +he had made with the two ladies to meet him on the beach.</p> + +<p>Three days had passed since the unpremeditated avowal of his love for +the millionaire manufacturer's daughter. They slipped by like a happy +dream, no care for the future, or the deadlock to which the future must +inevitably bring him, disturbing the sweet dalliance of the present till +the previous evening. He had dined at the Manor House alone with the +family and, as they sat over their wine after the departure of Violet +and Aunt Sarah, Montague Maynard had, quite kindly, put to him some +pertinent questions, the drift of which there was no mistaking. Mr. +Maynard would not have attained to his position in the commercial world +had he not been a student of men and things, and, without definitely +stating as much, he let it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> be clearly understood that he was not blind +to what was going on. His manner implied that he was not unfriendly, +but, at the same time, in asking about the young ex-Lancer's resources, +he spoke as if he had a right to the information.</p> + +<p>He opened the battle in his usual blunt, jovial fashion, without any +beating about the bush—</p> + +<p>"So, my young friend, you're a warm man, Travers Nugent tells me. Lucky +chap, to possess inherited wealth, though I'm not sure that I wouldn't +have preferred you to have made a pile by hard work, as I have."</p> + +<p>Leslie suddenly finding himself on the edge of a precipice, clutched for +the only available support—a deprecating and rather shamefaced laugh. +"Mr. Nugent must be given to exaggeration, sir," he said. "I have never +represented myself as a rich man. As a matter of fact I am—not by any +means what you would consider rich."</p> + +<p>He thought grimly of the few £5 notes left to him out of the sum +advanced by Nugent for current expenses during the bogus courtship of +the girl now dearer to him than life. Something of the rueful irony in +his mind must have been reflected in his face, for Mr. Maynard, after a +sidelong glance at him and a sip of port, continued—</p> + +<p>"Now, my lad, I've been and set your back up by hinting that you didn't +earn your money. At any rate, you must be pretty well lined to be able +to chuck the army at your age, and to possess such a steam yacht as +Nugent has described to me."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid, sir, that Nugent's imagination has run away with him," +Leslie replied, flushing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> hotly. "The yacht at Weymouth, in which I had +been going to travel, is not my own property."</p> + +<p>"You have abandoned your intention?"</p> + +<p>"Entirely."</p> + +<p>A constrained silence fell upon the two men. The blue smoke of their +cigars floated over the array of decanters, the luscious fruits and +glittering plate. On one the demon of distrust had been unchained; on +the other, a cloud of apprehension, threatening the short-lived bliss of +the last few days, had swooped from an azure sky. It was Montague +Maynard who broke the spell, going, as was his way, direct to the point.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Chermside," he blurted out. "I like you, and so does old +Sally Dymmock—'cute observers, both of us. But there's something not +quite above-board—I don't say about you, but about your circumstances. +I'm the last man to judge anybody hastily, and you may have the best of +reasons for reticence; but I just want to warn you that if you come to +me with a proposal which I need not define I shall expect perfect +frankness."</p> + +<p>Leslie's heart sank within him, for perfect frankness was what he would +never be able to accord. How was he to explain the fact that he was a +penniless man without prospects, in face of the impression which, if not +actually inspired by him, he allowed to remain, that he was rolling in +money? Still less could he explain the motive which had prompted him to +acquiescence in Nugent's description of him. And the only alternative to +explanation was once for all to abandon hopes of Violet, and to bear his +loss as manfully as he could, accept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>ing it as a punishment for his +contemplated evil-doing.</p> + +<p>"When I come to you with a definite proposal, sir, I shall naturally +endeavour to satisfy you," was his long-delayed reply.</p> + +<p>It was lame enough, but it served its immediate purpose of staving off +the day of reckoning. For Montague Maynard rose abruptly from the table, +flinging down his napkin with a gesture of impatience, and obviously +restraining an impulse to press his guest for a declaration of his +intentions.</p> + +<p>"Come and join the ladies," he said curtly.</p> + +<p>An uncomfortable half-hour had followed in the drawing-room, the air +vibrant with an electric tension which all were conscious of, and, as is +customary on such occasions, increased by their fatuous efforts to +relieve it. Violet talked brilliantly—more brilliantly than usual, +perhaps—of things that did not matter, watching her father and lover +with a pained surprise which her brave efforts could not wholly conceal. +Aunt Sarah seized such opportunities as were offered to her of being +openly rude to every one in turn, nodding her priceless lace cap to +emphasize her points, stabbing her lean fingers at the successive +victims of her caustic tongue, and galvanizing her mummy-like face into +grimaces that would have terrified strangers.</p> + +<p>But, so far as Leslie was concerned, it was reserved for the old lady to +save the situation. When she got up to go she followed Mr. Maynard and +Violet into the hall to speed the parting guest, winding up a stilted +evening with the request that Mr. Cherm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>side would take her and her +great-niece on what she called "the water" the next day. She and Violet +would motor out to the Ottermouth beach, and meet him there at 11.30 if +"the elements were propitious."</p> + +<p>Leslie had, of course, consented, though he had to conceal a certain +amount of reluctance in doing so. After Mr. Maynard's plain speech he +was not sure if it was not his duty to refrain from seeing Violet again. +At any rate the time had come when he must quit the fool's paradise in +which he had been living since the scene in the rose-garden, and +seriously consider his position. But Miss Dymmock's request was a +command, and it had this merit—that whatever course he decided on he +would have one more hour in the company of his beloved.</p> + +<p>Now, as he went to keep the appointment, he was no nearer a solution of +his dilemma in spite of anxious deliberation through the long hours of a +sleepless night. He was prepared to suffer the pain of giving Violet up, +but from her own sweet confession he knew that in vanishing from her +life he would inflict upon her a pain equal to his own. He shrank from +dealing the cruel blow. And, again, the necessity of guarding her +against the plot which he was all too sure was hatching in Nugent's +brain was a strong inducement to remain on the spot as long as possible.</p> + +<p>Racked with indecision, he loitered on the parade and absent-mindedly +watched the bathers till one of the Maynard motor cars swept round the +corner by the coastguard station, pulling up opposite the boat which the +fisherman in his employ had in readi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>ness. He thought that Violet looked +pale and preoccupied as she stepped from the car, but Aunt Sarah was as +alert and determined as ever, and, hardly deigning a word of greeting, +started across the pebbly beach for the boat. Leslie and Violet +followed, the sight of the little old lady's spindle shanks, as she +trudged over the stones with skirts held high, for the moment taking +them out of themselves.</p> + +<p>A little later the boat was running eastward round the headland at the +river's mouth before a gently favouring breeze. The wind being steady +and the sea smooth, the boatman was left behind, Violet taking the helm +and Leslie minding the sheet. Aunt Sarah, settled comfortably forward of +the little stick of a mast, spent the first five minutes in a careful +scrutiny of the sky, and then, finding that there were no outward +evidences that she was to be drowned that morning, suddenly astounded +her shipmates with the exclamation—</p> + +<p>"You two are in love with each other, and you can't deny it!"</p> + +<p>There succeeded ten seconds of intense silence, and then Violet, who was +familiar with her aged relative's little ways, laughed at the +consternation on her lover's bronzed face.</p> + +<p>"It is no use, Leslie," she said. "Aunt Sarah is a witch, and knows the +secrets of our inmost hearts. We may as well confess."</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose it is a crime," Chermside murmured weakly, in his +confusion taking an unnecessary pull at the sheet and sending a spray +over Aunt Sarah's mantle.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, young man, it's not a crime," she snapped when she had recovered +her balance and her equanimity. "I'm a bit of a character reader, and I +don't think you're capable of crime—havn't got the backbone for it. But +I know that you are weak, and that you're in some sort of a hobble that +you ought to be pulled out of. Now just you be straight with me. If you +had really been the man of the means you've been credited with in this +gossipy little hole you'd have gone to my nephew Montague Maynard and +asked him for his daughter three days ago, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I admit that. There have been misunderstandings for which I am partly +but not entirely responsible," said Leslie, marvelling at the almost +uncanny insight with which the old lady had read between the lines, and +wondering how much of his secret she had guessed.</p> + +<p>She proceeded to cross-examine him after the fashion of a barrister +handling a hostile witness. "Leaving aside for the moment the question +of financial position," she continued, "is there any other cause or +impediment why you should not be joined in holy matrimony to my +great-niece? As a man of honour you will answer me truly and without +reserve."</p> + +<p>Leslie stole a glance at Violet and saw that she had become suddenly +grave. Nurtured in the midst of luxury, she hardly knew the value of +money, and had the most profound contempt for it; but she cherished the +highest ideals of what a man's moral worth should be, and she was +clearly awaiting his answer with eager interest.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Leslie, scarcely hesitating, "there is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> the strongest +possible reason why Violet should not marry me. I have already urged it +upon her—that I am utterly unworthy."</p> + +<p>"He is not so black as he would paint himself, Aunt Sarah," the girl +pleaded. "Some quixotic idea——"</p> + +<p>"Mind your steering or we shall all be in the water," the old lady cut +her short. "Now, Mr. Chermside, be explicit, please. Why are you +unworthy to marry my niece?"</p> + +<p>"Because," replied Leslie, who had expected the question. "I consented, +under stress of peculiar circumstances, to aid and abet a base +conspiracy for doing a great injury to an innocent person. It is true +that I repented and left my tempters in the lurch, but I cannot hold +myself white-washed on that account."</p> + +<p>Miss Sarah Dymmock, not having a barrister's gown to hitch up, adjusted +her mushroom hat before returning to the charge. "Has this piece of +villainy you set out to do since been accomplished by the people who +tried to mislead you?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"It has not," rejoined Leslie firmly. "And please God it never will. +They have not, I believe, abandoned it; but I am devoting such feeble +powers as I possess to thwarting them. I claim no leniency on that +score. I tell you, Miss Dymmock, as I have told Violet, that the thing +was a horrible thing, and that no decent woman ought to be joined to a +man who, even in a mad lapse born of unspeakable misery, could have +become a consenting party to it for a single minute."</p> + +<p>Aunt Sarah nodded sagely once or twice, and let<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> her keen old eyes rest +for a while on the red cliffs past which the boat was gliding. +"Reverting to the question of means," she resumed at length, "if you +went to that greedy nephew of mine—not a bad sort, but a +money-grubber—you would have to confess that you had no steam yacht to +your name, or any of the other trimmings with which the Ottermouth +wiseacres have credited you?"</p> + +<p>"I should have to confess that I haven't a blessed stiver," said Leslie +grimly.</p> + +<p>Aunt Sarah's stern features relaxed, and her smile could be very +charming when she chose. "In that case, Mr. Chermside," she said, "you +would be adding the sin of falsehood to your other real or imaginary +iniquities. I yesterday arranged the preliminaries of a transfer to you +of securities worth, roughly speaking, two hundred and fifty thousand +pounds. I had an inkling that you were an attractive but quite harmless +fraud, and as the present interview has confirmed that belief I shall +wire my brokers to complete the transfer. I was aware that my dear +girl's happiness was bound up in your ability to satisfy her father of +your good faith, and I decided to place you in a position to do so. +There is no need to thank me. It is only a little juggle with money for +which an old woman has no use. In any case it would have been Violet's +when I die."</p> + +<p>"And you suggested a sail in order to tell us this?" Violet gasped.</p> + +<p>"Yes; you see it is really a sort of plot in which we three must remain +the only conspirators," the old lady beamed at the fair young face +flushed with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> joy. "A boat seemed the safest place for such business."</p> + +<p>"You dear!" was all Violet could answer as she strove to keep back the +happy tears.</p> + +<p>As for Leslie, his first impulse was to reject the good fortune thrust +upon him. The "coals of fire" heaped upon his head burned his brain and +filled him with a greater shame; for he could not but think that if the +real enormity of his offence were known this generosity would never have +been shown him. His proper course, he felt, was to make still fuller +confession, but that would be to stab his darling to the heart in the +hour of triumphant love. All he could do then was to begin to stammer +inconsequent but grateful protests which Aunt Sarah stopped at once with +masterful insistence.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" she snapped at him. "Just look to the sail and do what's +necessary to put us ashore again as quick as may be. I've got but a +short patience with folk who don't know the butter side of a slice of +bread."</p> + +<p>So the boat was turned and went gaily dancing over the summer sea, under +the red cliffs, and round the headland, to the beach. After the +discussion on the outward run it was but natural that words should be +few, and Leslie was glad of it for more reasons than one. They had the +wind against them now, and the sailing of the boat claimed all his +attention. A succession of short tacks was necessary before he landed +his precious freight.</p> + +<p>The motor car was waiting for the ladies, and when he had bestowed them +in it, and given a promise to come out to the Manor House later in the +day,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> Leslie turned in the opposite direction to go to his rooms for +lunch. As he neared the end of the parade, he saw Travers Nugent +watching him from one of the windows of the club, and he averted his +gaze so as not to catch the eye of his enemy. But the elementary tactics +were of no avail. Nugent came out of the front door before he could +pass.</p> + +<p>"Come inside; there is need for a consultation," said the Maharajah's +agent.</p> + +<p>Leslie angrily shook off the detaining hand which had been laid upon his +arm. "I don't wish to have anything to do with you. I'll be hanged if I +come in," he said.</p> + +<p>Nugent laughed—the little musical laugh that women loved and men +loathed. "My dear fellow, you have used an apt term in the reverse +sense," he cooed. "You will certainly be hanged if you don't come in and +listen to what I have to say."</p> + +<p>For the second time that morning Leslie Chermside paled beneath his +Eastern tan, and he meekly followed Nugent into the club.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>THE CREAKING STAIR</h3> + + +<p>Throughout the bewildering excitement in the boat consequent on Miss +Dymmock's benevolence, Leslie had been conscious of a weak spot in his +armour, which, if it had been detected by his antagonist, might prove +his undoing. Nugent's ominous rejoinder suggested that the weak spot had +been found, and that he was being led into the comfortable seclusion of +the Ottermouth Club for the purpose of having it pierced.</p> + +<p>"We had better go into the card-room," said Nugent. "There will be less +chance of interruption there, though at present there is no one in the +club. Every one has gone home to lunch."</p> + +<p>The card-room was on the first floor, with a window overlooking the sea. +Leslie remained standing just inside the door, but Nugent sat down at +one of the card tables, his fingers drawing fantastic patterns on the +green cloth as he seemed to consider how best to open the subject. +Suddenly he raised his eyes, and Leslie saw with surprise that there was +no hostility in them—only a look of deep concern.</p> + +<p>"You are in a tight place, my friend," he said. "Are you aware that you +are under the gravest suspicion of having murdered Levi Levison?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am not surprised to hear it, since you knew of my engagement to meet +Levison on the marsh that night," replied Leslie. "I had more than half +expected that you would give evidence to that effect at the inquest."</p> + +<p>Nugent brushed the insinuation aside with a contemptuous gesture. "My +dear Chermside, if you are going to approach the matter in that spirit, +we shall come to grief," he said. "Can't you see that our interests are +absolutely identical—that if you fall I fall too. Not quite so far +perhaps, but a good deal further than I care to contemplate. I don't +pretend to any affection for you, after the way you have played the +mischief with everything, but your arrest on this charge would mean my +social ruin—if nothing worse. The motive for your crime, and all that +led up to it, would be sure to come to light—even if you did not plead +guilty and put forward the motive as an extenuating circumstance."</p> + +<p>This was selfish villainy, naked and unashamed, but it sounded like +honest villainy. Leslie had realized from the first that if his +appointment with Levison transpired, the case against him would be black +indeed, but he had expected that Nugent would rejoice in that fact. It +had not occurred to him that his former accomplice would be dragged down +in his fall.</p> + +<p>"It will be time enough to talk of motive when I admit that I killed +Levison," he said, in a burst of indignation.</p> + +<p>"You didn't kill him? There are no witnesses. Straight now, as from man +to man, standing on the brink of the same precipice?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll swear I didn't."</p> + +<p>The shrug and the raised eyebrows with which Nugent received the denial +made Leslie itch to hit him, but his anger passed with the prompt +semi-withdrawal of the implied accusation.</p> + +<p>"If you didn't someone else did. Let me think a moment," said Nugent, +and again he fell to tracing invisible patterns on the card table. +Leslie leaned against the wall by the door, and stared vacantly through +the window at faint specks on the horizon of the sunlit sea—Brixham +trawlers on the fishing-grounds twenty miles away. The dapper man in the +immaculate grey suit, solving unseen problems on the green cloth, had +disarmed him. Nugent's belief in his guilt, he told himself, had been +genuine, but Nugent had been shaken in that belief. He was striving for +some other explanation of the Jew's death. At last he raised his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I have been trying to overhaul my knowledge of Levison's past in order +to account for his murder by some other means than the obvious," he +said. "And, with every desire to fit him with an appropriate murderer, I +have entirely failed. There is no need to disguise the fact that he was +my tool—a dirty little shyster who has done odd jobs for me—but he was +not the sort of person to inspire a thirst for bloodshed. A +mean-spirited little rascal, with no ideas beyond the price of a +bill-stamp and overcharging what he called his 'exes.' There was no +one to kill him but you, my friend."</p> + +<p>"Don't call me that," said Leslie hotly. "I repeat that I did not kill +him."</p> + +<p>Nugent shook his head with an incredulity the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> more exasperating because +it seemed so thoroughly genuine. "At any rate, a judge and jury would +find a difficulty in believing to the contrary. Let me state the case +just to show you your danger. You have yourself admitted acquaintance +and business relations with Levison—a stranger in the place, who is not +known to have had dealings with any one else. Point one for the +prosecution. It can further be proved that you had arranged to meet him +at that lonely spot——"</p> + +<p>"Pardon me," interrupted Leslie hoarsely. "That cannot be proved unless +you volunteer as a witness, and give away the whole vile story of the +plot to abduct Miss Maynard."</p> + +<p>The gentle tolerance of Nugent's smile was harder to bear than abuse +would have been. "Really, Chermside, you are an impossible fellow to +have as a partner in a losing game," he said. "At the risk of being +wearisome, let me repeat that your trial would spell ruin for me. It is +Louise Aubin, Miss Maynard's French maid, who is at the bottom of the +trouble. Levison, like the vulgar wretch he was, amused himself with a +flirtation with her. It seems that, most indiscreetly, he confided to +her that he had some hold on you, and that it was either to be tightened +or relaxed after an interview arranged for that night. Point two for the +prosecution."</p> + +<p>Leslie's heart sank as the remorseless indictment against him was +unfolded. He had been naturally disposed to mistrust Nugent's profession +of mutual interests, but with the introduction of this new and +independent witness into the case this was ex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>plained. Louise Aubin, if +she had been confided in by Levison, was certainly in a position to +wreck the two of them. Yet once more his doubt surged up, and he put the +quick question—</p> + +<p>"Why has this woman imparted her suspicion to you? Why did she not take +it to the police, and appear at the inquest?"</p> + +<p>"Because, by the greatest good luck, I met her on her way to do so," +answered Nugent promptly. "It was on the day of the picnic—immediately +after the discovery of the body. I was aware of her relations with the +dead man, from what was said when we lunched at the Manor, and I guessed +what she was up to. I managed to throw dust in her eyes for the time, +and have contrived to hold her in check since, but she is growing +restive, and threatens to appear at the adjourned inquest."</p> + +<p>Leslie stared dully at the speaker. He could almost feel the hangman's +noose at his neck. The bright vision of an hour ago had faded into +Cimmerian gloom. Nugent's clever face suggested the only possible source +of the advice of which he stood in such urgent need, and, almost against +his will, the question escaped him—</p> + +<p>"What had I better do?"</p> + +<p>"Cut and run for it. Avoid arrest at any price," was the ready reply.</p> + +<p>"But I am not guilty. I did not murder the little Jew."</p> + +<p>"You cannot prove that," Nugent rejoined, with a flicker of his hateful +smile. "Besides," he added, "consider the execration you would incur in +attempting to do so. What would your life be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> worth to you if you +managed to save it by confessing your share in the Violet Maynard +project?"</p> + +<p>Leslie could frame no reply, and while he sought for one, a tiny sound, +that under other circumstances would have been disregarded, reached his +ears. Nugent, who was further from the door, evidently had not heard it. +Somewhere about half-way up the staircase a loose board creaked, but the +sound had been preceded by no footfall, nor, though he listened +intently, could Leslie detect that it was followed by one. Some +instinct, which he did not attempt to analyse then, but which he +afterwards knew was a desire to dissociate himself from Nugent in any +danger which that creaking stair might portend, prompted him not to call +attention to it. But, to prevent any chance of the remainder of their +conversation being overheard, he turned and closed the door smartly.</p> + +<p>"If I make a bolt of it, where am I to bolt to?" he asked, lowering his +voice and stepping to the table.</p> + +<p>A gleam of triumph, instantly suppressed, flashed in Nugent's eyes. "I +have considered that most carefully," he replied. "At the first hint of +your departure, in the ordinary way, Louise Aubin would go to the +police, and you would be traced and arrested. I propose, if you assent, +to utilize the <i>Cobra</i> for your flight. She is the property of the +Maharajah, and Bhagwan Singh is as much interested in covering up his +attempt to gain an English bride by force as we are ourselves. Now that +the vessel won't be wanted for her original purpose, she may as well +earn her upkeep by helping to preserve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> the secret of our abortive +scheme. Once smuggled aboard safely, she could put you ashore at some +South American port, where you might carve out a new career, though you +must forgive my saying that I doubt your success in any undertaking."</p> + +<p>Leslie allowed the gibe to pass. He was prepared to make allowances for +Nugent's disappointment, now that he was persuaded that he had +definitely abandoned the plot against Violet, and was only concerned in +hiding all traces of it. On the whole, the plan for evading arrest +rather appealed to him. With a dull despair at his heart, he had already +realized that the vengeful Frenchwoman had shattered his day-dream. Of +what use to him would be good old Aunt Sarah's benefaction, when there +was hanging over his head a murder charge which, even if he could refute +it, would remove Violet beyond his pale for ever?</p> + +<p>"I suppose you're right," he gave his tardy consent. "And if I have got +to go, the sooner the better. When do you propose that I should start?"</p> + +<p>Travers Nugent rose with a sigh of unaffected relief. "I expect it will +be the day after to-morrow," he made answer. "But we will meet again to +arrange final details. In the meanwhile, my dear fellow, let me +congratulate you on the one gleam of common-sense you have shown +throughout our disastrous association. All my energies must now be +directed to chaining up that wild-cat of a French maid till you are +safely on board."</p> + +<p>Nodding curtly, he walked to the door, opened it, and, passing down the +stairs, left the club. Les<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>lie, following more leisurely, was moved by a +great curiosity to see if he could account for that ominous creak. He +glanced into the reading-room, but there was no one there. It was too +early in the afternoon for the assembly of members who came to chat and +see the papers.</p> + +<p>The click of balls, unusual at that hour, attracted him to the +billiard-room, and, entering, he was confronted with an enigma. The +lean, ascetic form of Mr. Mallory was bending over the table, poising +his cue for a difficult cannon, which he delayed for an instant because +of the interruption, and then made with an unerring precision. His +antagonist was the burly and rubicund General Kruse, who had his nose +buried in a whisky and soda. On the lounge, watching the game with +sardonic contempt, sat the cadaverous Mr. Lazarus Lowch, the foreman +of the jury at the inquest on Levison, and but a rare visitor to the +billiard-room.</p> + +<p>Leslie walked to the scoring-board and noted the state of the game. It +stood at 5-2, and could therefore have been only just begun. It followed +that any one of these three gentlemen, so oddly occupied at an +unaccustomed hour, when they ought to have been enjoying an +after-luncheon siesta at home, might have caused the sound on the stairs +a few minutes before.</p> + +<p>Which of them could it have been? How much of that momentous interview, +on which his liberty and his life might depend, had been overheard?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>A COUNCIL OF THREE</h3> + + +<p>The handsome pension which Mr. Vernon Mallory drew as a distinguished +servant of the Foreign Office, added to considerable private means, +enabled him to occupy one of the most important residences in the place. +It had large, well-shaded tennis and croquet lawns, and here, later on +that same afternoon, Mr. Mallory was sitting under a copper beech with +his wife, a gentle, patient lady, who had the misfortune to be blind.</p> + +<p>At the other side of the croquet lawn Lieutenant Reginald Beauchamp and +Miss Enid Mallory were leaning on their mallets with every appearance of +being engaged in a violent quarrel. The girl's face was flushed, and now +and again she tapped the close-cropped turf impatiently with a neat +brown shoe. The young sailor, viewed from the distance, had the air and +attitude of saying rude things in a provoking manner.</p> + +<p>"What are those two doing, dear?" Mrs. Mallory asked presently. "My ears +tell me that they have stopped playing."</p> + +<p>"They look," replied her husband, "as if they were hurling invectives at +each other over a foul<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> stroke. Knowing them as I do, my impression is +that they are occupied in coming to an understanding. Their ideas of +love-making are of the kittenish order—a pat and a scratch, and a pat +again. But I think that they are both in earnest."</p> + +<p>"Reggie has been suddenly recalled to his ship, has he not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he has to rejoin at Plymouth to-morrow morning for some sort of +manœuvres or gun practice. That may account for the affair having +come to a head to-day."</p> + +<p>The blind lady sighed with contentment. "He is a brave, good lad, +Vernon," she said. "You must be kind to him, and say 'Yes' nicely when +he asks you for our darling. They have been fond of each other since +they were babies almost."</p> + +<p>The ghost of a tender smile quivered at the corner of Mr. Mallory's +stern mouth. "I shall not be rough with him, Margaret," he said gently, +"but I am going to make a bargain with him for all that. He has—I +believe both the young rascals have it—the key to something I want very +badly."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mallory's sightless eyes turned towards her husband, and her voice +spoke the affection they could not express. "The key to a secret, dear. +To some mystery that is no concern of yours? When shall I be able to +persuade you that you retired from the public service years ago? But +they are coming this way, I think."</p> + +<p>Her acute hearing, that blessed compensation granted to the blind, had +told her truly. Reggie and Enid were crossing the lawn towards them—a +picturesque whirlwind of white flannel and flapping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> straw hats. Mr. +Mallory composed his features into an acid contemplation of the +approaching couple, though he had much ado to succeed. No sentimental +nonsense here, but earnest, cocksure intent, after his own heart.</p> + +<p>"We've come to ask your permission," Reggie began.</p> + +<p>"Will you hold your tongue, sir? We have come to do nothing of the +kind," Enid interrupted him. "We've come to give information, that's +all. Father, dear, we have had an awful row about details, but we've +patched it up, and are engaged to be married. You haven't any objection, +I suppose? Of course Reggie is no great shakes, and I might have done +better, but he suits me." And, after a pause, the minx added, with an +impudent <i>moue</i> at her lover, "on the whole."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory reared his tall, spare frame from the basket-chair in which +he had been lounging, and, having pressed his wife's hand to reassure +her that all would be well, turned with mock severity to the culprits.</p> + +<p>"Come into the study," he said in his most judicial tone. "The remarks I +have to make are not for the benefit of any chance passer-by, or of Mr. +Lazarus Lowch if he is on the prowl."</p> + +<p>The three passed into the house, and as soon as the door of Mr. +Mallory's sanctum was shut upon them he laid an affectionate hand on the +shoulder of each of his young companions. "Your little affair will be +all right," he smiled at them, laying aside his judicial manner. "You +were born to keep each other in order, and we old folks should have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +been disappointed had it been otherwise. But in return for my easy +sanction, I want your fullest confidence about something very different. +I was watching you the other day at the inquest, Reggie. What really +happened that night when you two were sweethearting on the marsh?"</p> + +<p>Two pairs of youthful eyes questioned each other, and each gave a mutely +tentative answer in the affirmative.</p> + +<p>"We saw something that night that might get some one into trouble," +Reggie took upon himself to say. "Some one who—well, didn't strike us +as the sort of chap to deserve it. So we decided to keep quiet about +it."</p> + +<p>"I am inclined to think that your discretion was praiseworthy," said Mr. +Mallory gravely. "I hope, however, that for that some one's sake I may +be honoured by your confidence. It was Leslie Chermside, was it not?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes; as you seem to be omniscient, sir, and friendly to him, we +did see Chermside on the marsh that night," Reggie admitted.</p> + +<p>"But we didn't see him murdering anybody," interposed Enid; adding +inconsequently, "Dear Violet Maynard wouldn't be so keen on him if he +was a murderer."</p> + +<p>"You were not, I presume, an actual witness of the crime," Mr. Mallory +said drily. He remained silent for a minute, walking up and down the +room, and then continued—</p> + +<p>"Now, look here, you two. There is some ugly mischief going on here, and +it is my belief that Chermside, though mixed up in it, is more sinned +against<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> than sinning. You will best serve him by being perfectly frank +with me, and if it will induce you to be so, let me say that the +wire-puller in the business is Mr. Travers Nugent. You are both of you +aware of my opinion of that gentleman, based on grounds of former +official experience. I am certain that there is some deep-laid plot +afoot in which Chermside is a mere pawn—a plot which I somehow vaguely +deem to be directed against the good people who have rented the Manor +House. I have utterly failed so far to gain the slightest inkling of the +nature or object of Nugent's machinations, but I have gathered +this—that whether Chermside killed that little Jew or not Nugent is +holding over him, as a means to effect his purpose, the probability of +imminent arrest."</p> + +<p>At that Reggie described fully how he and Enid had been "resting" in the +bushes at the side of the marshland path, and how at short intervals two +men, whom it was too dark to recognize, had passed by. He went on to +repeat the evidence dragged from him at the inquest as the result of the +eavesdropping of Mr. Lazarus Lowch, telling over again of the weird +scream that had startled them a few minutes after the passing of the +second unseen pedestrian. And he finished his narrative with the hurried +return along the path of a man who, as he passed their lair, was shown +by the searchlight on the battleship to be none other than Leslie +Chermside.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory pondered the statement, then asked suddenly, "Did you notice +any peculiarity in the footfall of the invisible pedestrians?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we did," Enid answered quickly. "The first to come along was going +rapidly, as though he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> was late for an appointment—almost running, in +fact. We could quite plainly hear him puffing and blowing."</p> + +<p>"Humph! Cannot you be a little more exact as to the time that elapsed +between these four different incidents—the passing of the two unseen +wayfarers, the scream, and the disclosure of Chermside by the +searchlight? For instance, could the second of the two invisible +passers-by have reached the spot where the body was found, when you +heard the scream?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't say, sir," replied Reggie with a faint grin at his companion +of the fatal night.</p> + +<p>"Or whether, after the scream, there had been sufficient time for +Chermside to traverse the distance from the same spot to where you +were?"</p> + +<p>"You see, father," Enid took up her parable as Reggie shook his head, +"we didn't know then of any reason for paying attention to these +matters. We were discussing things that seemed of far greater +importance," she added demurely.</p> + +<p>The old diplomatist was in too serious mood to give rein to his sense of +humour just then. He allowed his daughter's naïve confession to pass +unheeded, and, walking to the window, tried, as men do when face to face +with a knotty problem, to concentrate his thoughts by fixing his gaze on +some immaterial object. The study window was at the side of the house, +with a distant view of the red point at the mouth of the river, and his +eyes unconsciously sought that soothing picture without causing any +reflex action on the clever brain busy with affairs of more human +interest. Close under the window<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> ran the path leading from the +tradesmen's entrance to the back door.</p> + +<p>"Your vagueness as to time makes it uncertain," Mr. Mallory said +presently, "whether Chermside was one of the two men who passed you in +the first instance, going outwards from the town. By the way, was he in +evening dress?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Reggie and Enid in unison. "He was wearing flannels."</p> + +<p>"Then," mused Mr. Mallory aloud, "it is conclusive that he was not +returning from dining at the Manor—a point which could of course have +been easily ascertained. He may have been one of those who passed you, +but—No, my good man, go away! We don't require any."</p> + +<p>The sudden break-off, which drew Reggie and Enid's eyes to the window, +was caused by a shabby, down-at-heels individual who was holding up a +bunch of dangling bootlaces with the stereotyped smirk and inviting +gesture of the street hawker. Accepting his dismissal meekly, he went +shambling off to the side entrance from the road.</p> + +<p>"Reggie!" cried Enid.</p> + +<p>"Madam to you."</p> + +<p>"Did you twig who that was?"</p> + +<p>"Can't say I did."</p> + +<p>"He was the man who looked out of the train on the day of the picnic, +and who called out about 'the face in the pool.'"</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory turned sharply round. He had been watching the exit of the +tramp from the premises. "Are you sure of that?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Now that Enid has reminded me I am sure of it,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> Reggie replied. "He is +dressed differently, but I remember the bloated, drinky face perfectly. +And, by the way, I saw him coming out of the gates of The Hut this +morning. Can it be that he was not in that train by chance, but was +travelling at the instance of Nugent in order to ensure that the body of +Levison should not remain there undiscovered?"</p> + +<p>"Precisely what was in my mind," Mr. Mallory rejoined. "And he was +probably hanging about this house as a spy in the interests of his +employer, for I can see a connexion by which Nugent may have become +aware of my active opposition. You went far to confirm my suspicions, my +boy, when you told me of Nugent's journey to Weymouth the other day; +what has just transpired is finally convincing that there is some +villainy hatching with Chermside either as victim or catspaw."</p> + +<p>"But you are entirely in the dark as to the purport of all this plot and +counterplot?" said Reggie.</p> + +<p>"Entirely; all I have been able to elucidate is that Nugent finds it +necessary to threaten Chermside with implication in a murder which he +may or may not have committed."</p> + +<p>"Can't Reggie and I capture The Bootlace Man and stick red-hot needles +into him till he confesses?" suggested Enid.</p> + +<p>But her father smiled with grim tolerance. "You don't know Mr. Travers +Nugent, my child," he said. "You may be very sure that 'the bootlace +man,' as you call him, has not been admitted to the inner precincts of +the mystery. Nugent, while pretending to trust his agents, never does so +really. He is even capable of wiping them out of existence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> when they +have served their purpose—or failed in it."</p> + +<p>"Then what is your game, sir? I should like to take a hand in it, +whatever it is," said Reggie with the zest of the good sportsman he was. +"To head off Nugent and give a shake up to old Lazarus Lowch too would +afford me the greatest pleasure."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory took a turn up the room and came back. "The game," he said +slowly, "is to find proof against the actual slayer of Levison before +Nugent's blow, whatever it is, falls. As your leave is up to-morrow +morning I am afraid there will be no time for you to help me in that."</p> + +<p>"I hope that your researches won't lead you into danger, sir."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear no," rejoined Mr. Mallory carelessly. "They are chiefly +concerned with the movements on the night in question of a French onion +vendor belonging to a lugger lying at Exmouth."</p> + +<p>"Why not drop a hint to the sergeant of police?"</p> + +<p>But Mr. Mallory made a gesture of dissent. "Because I am far from sure +that I am right," he said. "If the police were to push inquiries in that +direction Nugent would get wind of it and make a counter-move. It isn't +as if the catching of Levison's murderer was the chief desideratum. It +is the cunningly veiled scheme in which that crime was only a detail +that I have set myself to discover and foil. Given positive proof +against the murderer, be he Chermside or any one else, and I would be at +the police station with it inside five minutes. But it must be clear +evidence, justifying an immediate arrest."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>BARBED SHAFTS</h3> + + +<p>Louise Aubin stood behind her young mistress's dressing chair, brushing +the glorious tresses which her deft fingers would presently coil and +coax into the latest fashionable mode. There was to be a small dinner +party at the Manor House that evening. Mr. Vernon Mallory and his +daughter were coming, also Leslie Chermside and Travers Nugent, as well +as a few local people in whom we are not interested. It was the day +following that on which Aunt Sarah had raised hopes for her protégées, +which, so far as one of them was concerned, were so rudely dashed in the +card-room at the club.</p> + +<p>The maid glanced furtively at the beautiful face in the mirror opposite, +and took note of the dreamy happiness in Violet Maynard's eyes. Violet +had been consistently kind to her, and Louise, selfish though she was to +the core, was not wholly ungrateful. She had deceived herself into the +belief that she was about to do her mistress a genuine service, but it +was characteristic of her that she rather enjoyed the prospect of +inflicting pain in the process.</p> + +<p>"I should so like to consult you, mees, about an affair of my own," she +began hesitatingly. There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> was no need for the hesitation, mademoiselle +having been carefully coached for the part she was to play no later than +that afternoon, when she had paid another surreptitious visit to The +Hut. But a shy modesty was a weapon in her equipment for the fray.</p> + +<p>Violet looked up quickly. The note of diffidence was unusual. "Of +course, Louise, you can ask me anything," she said, wondering why the +Abigail's gaze was so swiftly averted. "I should have thought, though, +that you are much more capable of managing your affairs than I am."</p> + +<p>The Frenchwoman contrived to show deprecation in the twirl she gave to +the silver hair-brush. "In small things, mees, perhaps," she answered. +"But this is not small, the thing in which I beg you to advise. It is an +affair of the 'eart, and an affair of murderre—the murderre of the +gentleman who was killed on the marsh."</p> + +<p>Violet with difficulty repressed a smile. The subject was a gruesome +one, but, serene in her own love idyll, she had really paid very little +attention to it. "You don't mean to tell me, Louise, that you killed +that unfortunate man because he did not appreciate your charms?"</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle was on her dignity at once; moreover, having marked down +higher game, she could afford to be quite genuine in her repudiation of +any partiality for Mr. Levi Levison.</p> + +<p>"Mees will pardon her devoted maid for saying that it is hardly a +subject for jest," came her prompt rebuke. "The shoe was what you call +on the other foot. Mr. Levison, he admire me greatly, but I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> not think +ver' moosh of 'im. All the same, he tells me things, and among others he +tell me who it was he going to meet on the marsh. I blame myself for not +having approach the police about it, and I desire to ask you, mees, if +it is now too late."</p> + +<p>Violet grew suddenly grave. A responsibility was being thrust upon her +which she would have avoided if she could, but she felt it her duty to +accept. Louise was a stranger in a strange land, the laws of which she +could not be expected to understand, and who was there to advise her if +not her mistress? Violet had not much doubt as to what her advice would +be, for she knew that it was a serious matter to withhold information +that would tend to the conviction of a criminal. The maid would have to +be told to take the course she ought to have taken at first—to give the +police the name of the man Levison was to meet.</p> + +<p>But Violet intuitively shrank from uttering the word which might be the +first step towards condemning a fellow-creature to ignominious death, +however well merited, and perhaps it was to gain time that she asked—</p> + +<p>"How was it that you concealed this knowledge, Louise? Is the person +whom you have been shielding a friend of yours?"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, mees, I 'ave neverre speak to 'im," came the glib +reply. "I keep the secret because Mr. Travers Nugent, who I know to be +honourable gentleman and well acquainted with m'sieu your father, +because 'e guess I going to the police and persuade me to stop. 'E say +it silly to stir up the mud for no good."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now Violet Maynard had never yielded to the spell of Travers Nugent's +social attractions. She had always been civil to him as one in whose +well-informed society easy-going Montague Maynard found pleasure, but in +her infrequent and superficial intercourse with the man-about-town she +had been conscious of a vague mistrust. Quite naturally, therefore, she +exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"Mr. Nugent should not have interfered. It was very wrong of him, and +though I do not know much about such matters I imagine that he may have +made trouble for himself as well as for you. Who was this person whom +Mr. Nugent was at such pains to protect, Louise? He is fond of currying +favour with the natives of this place, I know, but I should hardly have +thought that his thirst for popularity would have led him to incur the +risk of personal unpleasantness."</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle Louise stole one glance at the mildly indignant face in the +glass, then dropped her eyes demurely before firing the shot with which +she had been primed.</p> + +<p>"It was not about what you call native of Ottermouth that he beg me to +be silent, mees," she replied, using the hair-brush assiduously. "It was +a visitor gentleman—very nice gentleman he seems and friendly with you, +mees, and with m'sieu your father. But that I cannot 'elp. It was Mr. +Chermside who arrange to meet Levison on the marsh at ten o'clock on the +night when some one kill him."</p> + +<p>Mademoiselle gave quite half a dozen strokes with the brush before she +dared to look in the mirror again, and then she was impelled to do so by +the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> quivering of the shapely shoulders. Was her mistress sobbing in +silent anguish under the blow she had struck, or did the convulsion +betoken restrained merriment? The glance into the glass settled it. The +eyes of mistress and maid met, and Violet broke into a ripple of silvery +laughter.</p> + +<p>"Why, you foolish little goose!" she cried, "there is no harm done after +all. You had better go to the police with your story as soon as you +like, or as soon as Mr. Nugent permits. Mr. Chermside would no more +dream of murdering anybody than would Mr. Nugent himself—not half so +much, indeed. It was nice of Mr. Nugent to want to save his friend +annoyance, but he might have had more faith in him. Once more, you are a +goose, Louise."</p> + +<p>The Frenchwoman bore the rebuke in silence. She had fulfilled the +instructions so carefully instilled into her artful but shallow brain, +and all her efforts just now being devoted to pleasing her new <i>cher +ami</i>, as she considered the master of The Hut, she was content to leave +it at that. Nugent had not confided to her how he expected or wished +Miss Maynard to behave on hearing what he had instructed Louise to tell +her.</p> + +<p>As soon as her toilet was complete Violet descended to the drawing-room, +where Aunt Sarah was talking to the Mallorys, who were the only guests +who had as yet arrived. In spite of having parted with Reggie Beauchamp +that morning Enid was in high spirits, and looked delightfully fresh in +her dinner dress of virginal white. She was merrily receiving somewhat +pessimistic congratulations on her engagement from Aunt Sarah, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> was +laying it down that to marry a man liable to be drowned at any moment +was simply flying in the face of Providence.</p> + +<p>Nugent and Chermside arrived together, and when Montague Maynard came +bursting in in the wake of the few remaining guests dinner was +announced, and they adjourned to the dining-room. To Violet the meal was +a tedious function that night. She was brimming over with mixed +excitement over the implied aspersion cast by Louise on her lover, and +she was longing to share the absurdity, as she considered it, with him. +She had much ado to restrain herself from mentioning it at the +dinner-table, but she realized that it was hardly a matter to be made +fun of before the servants. Moreover, she noticed that Leslie was +looking pale and preoccupied, and by no means in a mood to appreciate +the humour of a jest so grimly personal. She was afraid he was going to +be ill. On all accounts it would be wiser to postpone telling him till +they were alone.</p> + +<p>As it happened, it was not to Leslie that she was destined to first moot +the subject of Louise's treacherous confidence. When the gentlemen +joined the ladies in the drawing-room after dinner the human pack +chanced to get so shuffled that Violet found herself for the moment +paired off with Travers Nugent, and unable to obtain speech with her +lover. It was not for her to know that Nugent had carefully arranged his +entry into the drawing-room with a view to securing a <i>tête-à-tête</i> with +her. Eagerly awaiting Leslie's appearance, she had seated herself alone +near the door, and Nugent, coming in ahead of the rest of the men, at +once monopolized her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Queen of the Manor is looking radiant," he said in his silky +accents, assuming the air of deference which carried him far with most +of his female acquaintances.</p> + +<p>"I am not feeling very radiant, or even good-tempered—with you," +replied Violet. Baulked of her wish to have it out with Leslie, she was +seized with a desire to rend in pieces, figuratively, of course, this +debonair gentleman who had busied himself to shield one who by no +possible chain of circumstances could need any shielding.</p> + +<p>"Is it permitted to inquire, fair lady, what has caused me to fall under +the ban of your displeasure?" said Nugent smilingly. The smile was well +managed, seeing that he was at the same time assuring himself that +Leslie and Mr. Mallory, convoyed by their host, had passed on with the +other men to where Aunt Sarah was holding a miniature court at the far +end of the room. The smile deepened a little as he noticed that Mr. +Mallory palpably overcame an impulse to join them.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Violet in answer to his question. "If you had not inquired I +should have mentioned the matter myself. What is the meaning of this +preposterous story brought to me by my maid—that you prevented her from +going to the police about Mr. Chermside's appointment with that poor +man?"</p> + +<p>The start which Nugent gave, if not natural, at any rate looked the +genuine thing. He bit his lips as though annoyed and disconcerted, and +an anxious expression crept into his eyes.</p> + +<p>"So that stupid French girl has been frightening<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> you," he said softly. +"My dear Miss Maynard, I would not have had this happen for worlds."</p> + +<p>"That is not an answer to my question," Violet persisted hotly. "Why did +you pursue a course which may very likely get the girl into trouble? If +you did it to save Mr. Chermside from unpleasantness your motive was all +right, though I should have thought that a man of the world would have +known that your action was very likely to have the opposite effect. If +the police had been informed at once of this appointment on the marsh +they would have laughed at the idea of a gentleman in Mr. Chermside's +position having anything to do with the crime. But now, when they are +informed of it, they will probably attach an exaggerated importance to +the incident, and worry for explanations."</p> + +<p>Travers Nugent sighed the sigh of the man who had been misunderstood. "I +am glad that you give me credit for having acted from loyalty to my +friend, even if you accuse me of folly," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Why did you commit that folly?" demanded Violet, tapping her dainty +shoe in imperious insistence.</p> + +<p>The answer came as though dragged out by force and in the face of better +judgment. "You leave me no option," said Nugent slowly, waving his soft +white hand in a deprecatory gesture. "I took the course I did—that of +persuading Louise Aubin not to rush off to the police—because—well, +because——" He stopped abruptly, and then added with a strained little +laugh, "I find this a difficult thing to say, Miss Maynard."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am waiting for you to say it," came Violet's inexorable rejoinder.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, has it not occurred to you that if Chermside had wanted his +appointment with Levison to be known to the police he would himself have +informed them of it, whereas, though he was called as a witness at the +inquest, he preserved silence about it?"</p> + +<p>Violet Maynard was a beautiful woman, and she had never looked more +beautiful than when she rose, majestic in her wrath, to champion the man +she loved.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Nugent," she suppressed her voice with an effort, "that implies +doubt—almost accusation. I am ashamed of you. How dare you think such +an impossible thing—to say nothing of putting it into words, to me of +all people, who am his affianced wife!"</p> + +<p>Nugent bowed as before an offended goddess, and a little flush came into +his face—an unusual phenomenon in one whose emotions were so well +controlled. "I somehow seem not to be able to express myself clearly +to-night," he murmured plaintively. "You must forgive me if I point out +that the suggestion—the perfectly horrible suggestion—came from you, +and not from me. I was not charging Chermside with murder. The bare idea +is ridiculous. I like the boy, and he brought me the best introductions +from India, though personally he has not been communicative about his +private affairs. I know this much, however—that he had business with +Levison, as he admitted at the inquest, which he does not want to be +noised abroad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> and mouthed over by the wiseacres of Ottermouth. I +surmise that he was to meet Levison on the marsh that night to discuss +that business, and I therefore deemed it advisable in his interest to +suppress all publicity about the intended meeting."</p> + +<p>"You are inferring that the business, as you call it, was +discreditable?" said Violet, mystified, and only half mollified.</p> + +<p>"Not in the very least," rejoined Nugent glibly. "I do not know what the +transaction was, but it is impossible to associate anything +discreditable with Chermside. If I might make a suggestion it would be +that you should yourself ask Chermside for enlightenment."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I shall certainly inform him of what has happened," said +Violet coldly. "But it must rest with him whether he offers an +explanation of his relations with Levison. I am content to trust the man +who is to be my husband. In the meanwhile, Mr. Nugent, it is but fair +that you should know that I have advised my maid to lose no further time +in communicating with the police. It will be the shortest and most +satisfactory way of getting this absurdity wiped out once for all."</p> + +<p>Nugent bowed and stood looking after the graceful figure of the girl as +she sailed away from him across the room. His long moustache hid the +wicked curl at the corner of his mouth. "Ah, my lady," he murmured under +his breath, "you will find that it is one thing to tender advice and +quite another to get it acted on. The fair and flighty Louise is +receiving her orders from your humble servant at present, and they will +certainly not include an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> injunction to call at the police-station. But +that bogey has been effectually set up, I think."</p> + +<p>Leslie Chermside had been covertly watching from afar Violet's animated +interview with Nugent, and seeing her coming towards him he hastened to +meet her. That evening he grudged every moment not spent in her society, +for on the morrow he would assuredly see her for the last time. Unless +some miracle intervened there would be nothing for it, if he was to +avoid arrest for murder and its consequent exposure, but to assent to +Nugent's plan for flight on the <i>Cobra</i>. He had postponed giving his +final decision, hoping against hope that something might turn up to save +him, and also because at the back of his mind there still lurked the +suspicion that Nugent's account of his danger might have been trumped up +for some cunning purpose. But now he was to receive confirmation of the +story of Louise Aubin's suspicions from a source there was no +gainsaying.</p> + +<p>"Take me into the orangery; I want to speak to you," said Violet, laying +her hand on his sleeve.</p> + +<p>The orangery at Ottermouth Manor was a huge glass structure in which +oranges may have been grown in Georgian days after the prevailing +fashion, but which in modern times sheltered a wealth of tropical +shrubs. In the great aisles of luxuriant foliage it was possible to lose +oneself, as Violet and Leslie, after passing through one of the long +windows, proceeded to do now. They halted at last under the spreading +fronds of a giant palm, from a branch of which depended one of the +electric<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> lamps which the millionaire had installed in the old mansion.</p> + +<p>"Leslie," said the girl, looking up into her lover's face, "I have done +a strange thing to-night, as proof of my trust in you. That French maid +of mine tells me that you had a rendezvous with the man who was murdered +the other day, and that it was at or near to the spot where the body was +found. I have been blaming her for withholding her knowledge from the +authorities, and have advised her to rectify the omission without delay. +You mustn't be angry with me if I have been unduly interfering, but I +knew that you could have nothing to fear really in the matter of +Levison's death, and that it would be better to scotch this ridiculous +suspicion before it grows unmanageable."</p> + +<p>Chermside laughed, keeping the bitterness out of the sound of it as best +he could. To call it the irony of fate was beside the mark. It was +really almost supernatural, the way he was being tossed hither and +thither by the consequences of the crime he had abjured. Here was the +woman who was all in all to him calmly telling him that she had taken a +step which would snatch the last straw from his drowning hands. All hope +was gone. He must run for it now, if the traces of his disgraceful lapse +were to be covered.</p> + +<p>"It is quite true," he said. "I had an appointment to meet Levison. +But," and he laughed again as he made the addition, "I really didn't +murder him, Violet."</p> + +<p>The taper fingers, glittering with gems, closed on his arm. "Now don't +be silly," came the quick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> answer from sweetly protesting lips. "Every +one seems to be trying to be silly over this horrible affair—Louise, +Mr. Nugent, and now you yourself. I have just been calling Mr. Nugent +over the coals for his preposterous counsel to that misguided French +fool, and I told him what I now tell you—that my trust in your +incapacity for such a deed is invincible. I burn with indignation that +even a fool like Louise should have thought the contrary. That is why I +chanced the risk of offending you, dear, by forcing the issue."</p> + +<p>"You have indeed forced the issue, but there is nothing in all the wide +world that you could do to offend me," said Leslie, and his +half-strangled sob carried conviction.</p> + +<p>But Violet Maynard wanted more than conviction on a point on which she +was already convinced. She hungered for the confidence which she was too +proud to demand as her right. Yet her lover showed no sign of according +it. He just stood there staring at her, and looking half dazed in the +electric glow, but he had evidently no intention of explaining why he +was to have met Levison in the marsh, and why he had concealed the fact.</p> + +<p>"Is that all you have to say to me?" asked Violet quietly.</p> + +<p>And then, when her question evoked no reply, she turned and threaded her +way back amid the tangle of exotic luxuriance to the drawing-room, +leaving Leslie to follow like a man in a dream.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>"THE BOOTLACE MAN"</h3> + + +<p>On the following morning Enid Mallory, clad in a serviceable jersey and +a short skirt, and carrying her golf clubs, was walking up and down the +lawn at her father's house, perusing a letter received from Reggie by +the early delivery. She had already read it twice, once before and once +after breakfast, but like all maidens in similar cases she wanted to +make sure that she had missed none of its honey, implied or expressed.</p> + +<p>She looked up as her father came out and joined her. "I have heard from +my young man," she said, proffering the letter. "We don't indulge in +sentiment or secrets. Read it and see how the poor boy is going to be +worked to death in serving an ungrateful country."</p> + +<p>But Mr. Mallory waved the letter aside with one of his fugitive smiles. +"I will take your word for it, child," he said. "Those secrets used to +be considered sacred in my courting days, but I am growing +old-fashioned, I suppose. Reggie got back to his ship all right +yesterday, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is where he loves best to be I really<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> believe—on board his +'thirty-knot sardine-box,' as he calls it," Enid replied. "He seems very +pleased with himself and with the prospect of having plenty to do. He +has got to take the destroyer out for torpedo practice every day for a +week, leaving port at four in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Ah well!" sighed Mr. Mallory, gently, "there is nothing like the +strenuous life for the young. I often wish I was back in harness again +instead of rusting here."</p> + +<p>Enid stole an affectionately impudent glance at her father's keen face. +"Why, for the past week you have been simply revelling in the atmosphere +of intrigue, which is the breath of life to you, dad," she said with a +little laugh. "I am due at the links to play golf with Mona Dartring, +but I had to wait and ask you if there are any new developments. I mean +about the French onion-seller in whom you were interested?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory shook his head. "I seem to have run up against a dead wall +in that direction," he replied. "I am utterly unable to trace a +connexion between him and Nugent, yet I am morally certain that they are +both concerned in the murder of Levison in greater or lesser degree. +Last night at the Manor House the air was charged with mystery which I +could not pierce. At dinner Chermside was silent and preoccupied, while +Miss Maynard was almost hysterically vivacious. Afterwards, in the +drawing-room, she had a long confabulation with Nugent of the latter's +seeking; then she withdrew into the orangery with Chermside for an +interview from which they both returned as glum as if they had been +mour<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>ners at their own funerals. There is some devilish trickery going +on, with Nugent pulling the strings, but I can do nothing but wait and +watch."</p> + +<p>"Watch Mr. Nugent?" suggested Enid with more than her usual gravity.</p> + +<p>"Him and others. If one could spend a few hours inside The Hut in a +state of invisibility much would be made clear. For instance, an unseen +listener at a conference between either that coquettish maid of Miss +Maynard's, or the onion-seller, or even Chermside himself, and Nugent +would go far towards the solution I am striving for."</p> + +<p>"What has Louise, the maid, got to do with it, father?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly nothing. On the other hand, I think it extremely probable that +she is the pivot of the whole situation—so far as the murder of Levison +goes. It is established that the onion-seller, whom the worthy Miss +Dymmock chastised out of the park, was jealous of some one in respect of +the maid; but unfortunately unless one has a chance of cross-examining +the maid herself there is no way of proving whether Levison was the +unknown admirer who had excited her compatriot's jealousy."</p> + +<p>"I'll take that in hand," came Enid's eager answer. "I often see Louise +when I am with Violet Maynard at the Manor. I'll pump the hussey as limp +as a punctured tyre the next time I'm over there, and it's sure to be in +a day or two."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory patted his daughter's shoulder in mock encouragement. "Go +ahead, Miss Cocksure," he smiled at her. "But, if I am not mistaken, +you will find that Mademoiselle Louise carries<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> too many guns for an +honest English craft like my little Enid. There! that's a nautical +simile suitable for a sailor's bride. Now run away to your golf and +leave an old fogey to worry the thing out as best he can. I am past the +age for personal adventures in disguise, or I should be sorely tempted +to explore The Hut in some other character than my own."</p> + +<p>Enid pouted a little at the disparagement of her detective powers, and +then, after a dutiful peck at the clean-shaven paternal cheek, +shouldered her clubs and made for the garden gate. Half-way across the +lawn she wheeled round and shouted back—</p> + +<p>"Don't wait lunch for me. Mona and I have arranged to have a snack on +the links and go out for another round in the afternoon."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory nodded and turned to re-enter the house. As a resident at a +seaside resort where most people were engaged in amusing themselves, he +had grown accustomed to the ordinary meals being movable feasts, +sometimes omitted altogether so far as Enid was concerned. During the +summer months she would frequently disappear after breakfast, and not be +seen again till she arrived late but apologetic at the dinner table. +Even that important function was occasionally allowed to go by the board +when the popular little lady was intercepted on her way home and dragged +into some neighbour's house to spend the evening.</p> + +<p>To-day, keen sportswoman though she was, Enid's thoughts were chained +quite as much by her father's self-imposed anxieties as by the game she +loved. Passing by the entrance gates of The Hut, she looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> in vain up +the drive for any signs of the persons enumerated by her father as +probably connected with the case, and it was only when she had reached +the links on the breezy moor and had been duly chid by her waiting +friend for unpunctuality that she shook off her absorption and gave +herself up to the game. Conscious of her slackness, she forced herself +to play rather better than usual, but at the close of the afternoon +round she allowed her obsession to resume its sway.</p> + +<p>Concocting some frivolous pretext, she avoided walking down the road to +the town with other homeward-bound golfers, and contrived to slip away +unseen along a moorland path which led to the town by another and longer +route at the edge of the cliff. It had in Enid's eyes the merit of +passing quite close to the rear of The Hut, whereas the road was +separated from the house by the whole extent of a fairly long carriage +drive. Somehow the secluded abode of Mr. Travers Nugent had for her that +day the attraction of a magnet. She simply could not keep away from it.</p> + +<p>There was no definite plan in her head, only an intense longing that +something might happen which would enable her to fill the gap in her +father's investigations. Before it struck out on to the cliff the path +led her through a maze of gorse bushes very near the back gate out of +which Nugent had shown Pierre Legros on the night of his first interview +with him. When Enid came opposite this gate, which was of oak set in an +impenetrable hedge of blackthorn, she was seized with an irresistible +impulse to see if the gate was fastened. She fought against<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> it for as +long as it took her to walk resolutely ten paces by, and then there +recurred to her her father's words—</p> + +<p>"I am past the age for adventures, or I should be sorely tempted to +explore The Hut in some other character than my own."</p> + +<p>The temptation was too strong for her. Retracing her steps, she picked +her way across the few intervening yards of heather and tried the gate. +To her surprise it was neither locked nor bolted, but opened inwards to +the extent of the couple of inches for which she only dared apply +pressure at first. Growing bolder, she pushed the gate further open and +peered in. The house was partly visible fifty yards away through a +screen of copper beeches, but an intense silence brooded over it, nor in +the foreground of garden was there any sign of human life.</p> + +<p>"Dad was pleased to be sarcastic about my ability to find out things," +she murmured to herself. "All the same I think I'll do a little scout on +my own account. It would be good fun to take the old dear a tit-bit of +information that he hadn't been able to ferret out himself."</p> + +<p>So at first tentatively, and then more surely, the gate was pushed wider +still, and the trim figure in the short skirt stood with bated breath in +the quiet garden. The coy retreat of Mr. Travers Nugent was beautifully +kept. Tall trees and winding shrubberies afforded a grateful shade, and +the well-shaven turf of the lawn was dotted with beds ablaze with +brilliant summer flowers. In the bright yellow of the gravel walks never +a weed showed. But it was past six, and the gardener who had wrought +all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> this perfection was not there to make trouble for Enid on the +threshold of her adventure.</p> + +<p>Still without any definite plan except to "find out things," Miss Enid +softly shut the gate and advanced a few steps towards the house, taking +care to tread on the grass and not on the crunchy gravel. After all was +said and done she could trump up an excuse if she was discovered. Mr. +Nugent had always treated her with semi-paternal playfulness, and he +was, ostensibly at any rate, on amicable terms with her father.</p> + +<p>On the left the garden was bounded by a high brick wall covered with +ripening peaches; on the right lay a thick belt of shrubbery, extending +up to the house. Enid chose the latter as affording the best shelter +from any one standing at the windows, and, darting into the friendly +cover, she commenced her stealthy approach. With any luck, she told +herself, Mr. Nugent might be in his library interviewing one or other of +the people whom her father deemed his accomplices, and she might pick up +some useful crumbs of information to take home.</p> + +<p>She had traversed half the length of the shrubbery in safety when her +heart was set thumping by a sound behind her. It was the click of the +latch of the gate through which she had so recently entered the garden. +Glancing over her shoulder she caught, through the foliage, a glimpse of +a man who to her dismay was making straight for the shrubbery, taking a +diagonal course across the lawn which would bring him to the very spot +she had reached. Acting, as was her habit, on impulse, she did a thing +the folly of which she only recognized when it was too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> late to remedy +it. Just ahead of her, almost hidden in a tangle of thicket, was a +small, one-storied structure built of stone—a sort of grotto or +summer-house. Its walls were covered with green mould, never a ray of +sun reaching them, and it looked damp, disused and forgotten. The +doorway stood open, and Enid darted through, finding herself almost in +darkness, for the place was only furnished with a small circular window, +nearly obscured by ivy and high up in the wall.</p> + +<p>It would serve well enough as a refuge if the man had not seen the +fluttering of her white skirt amid the leafy screen. He would pass on +his way to the house and all would be well. But if he had seen her, and +was of an inquisitive turn of mind, her retreat would be cut off, for +there were no signs of an exit at the rear. It was sure to be some one +belonging to the house, or at any rate a privileged person, for the gate +was a private one, intended only for the use of the master of The Hut. +Would the man pass by, or would he come in and tax her with +unwarrantable trespass? Her hasty glance had not told her whether he had +a right to do so, as it had not enabled her to recognize him.</p> + +<p>But a moment later she did, when the doorway darkened and on the +threshold there stood the individual whom she had dubbed "The Bootlace +Man"—the seeming pedlar who had sneaked in and out of the side entrance +at her father's house two days before, and who in other garb had called +out of the train to draw the attention of Montague Maynard's picnic +party to "the face in the pool."</p> + +<p>He blinked in his efforts to pierce the gloom of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> dim interior, and +then with a muttered oath produced a box of wax matches and struck a +light. As the tiny flame flared up and showed him the pale but defiant +face of the girl, he gave a little cackling laugh and puffed out his +bloated cheeks in evil triumph.</p> + +<p>"Golly, but this is a bit of all right!" his alcoholic exclamation smote +Enid's ears and nose. "The governor will chalk this up to my score like +the generous patron he is. Now you stay there, Missy, and meditate on +the sin of curiosity till—well, till some one comes and lets you out."</p> + +<p>With which he stepped back and slammed the door in the girl's face. A +moment later the grating of the key in the lock told her that she was a +prisoner.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE TRAP IS SET</h3> + + +<p>About the time when the door of the stone grotto in the grounds of The +Hut swung to on Enid Mallory, Mr. Travers Nugent's motor car was rushing +up the avenue at the Manor House two miles away. At the main entrance of +the mansion Nugent got down and rang the bell, and while waiting turned +and spoke to his chauffeur.</p> + +<p>"I shall want you to be busy this evening, Dixon," he said. "When we get +home see that your tanks are full, and have the car ready for any +emergency. I may want you at any moment."</p> + +<p>The smart young fellow touched his cap, and the butler flinging open the +door put an end to further possible instructions. Nugent, who was aware +that the great manufacturer had gone to London that morning to attend a +board meeting, blandly inquired if Mr. Maynard was in. On receiving the +expected reply that the master would not be back till next day, he +affected to consider deeply, caressing his long moustache.</p> + +<p>"That is annoying," he said at last. "I wished to see him very +particularly. Are the ladies at home?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Miss Dymmock is in the drawing-room, sir; but Miss Maynard is either in +the park or in the gardens—probably in the rosery, which is her +favourite place," said the butler.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" murmured Nugent, and again he seemed to be plunged into perplexity +by Mr. Maynard's absence. "I had better see Miss Dymmock, perhaps. No, +on second thoughts I won't trouble her. I will leave a message with Miss +Maynard, if you will be good enough to show me where I shall be likely +to find her."</p> + +<p>So did this past-master in the art of chicane take elaborate pains to +have it understood at the Manor that Violet was the last person whom he +had originally set out to see. The butler called a footman to pilot the +visitor to the embowered pleasaunce where four days earlier Leslie +Chermside's declaration of love had been wrung from his headstrong +tongue. With an unread book at her side, Violet was sitting on the same +seat where her brief wooing had begun and ended. Nugent's eyes gleamed +with momentary satisfaction as he noted the sadness in the beautiful +face, the listless droop in the attitude of the graceful figure. But by +the time he reached her and bent over the proffered hand his manner was +that of the courtly gentleman, tinged with a trace of grave concern +which yielded to a semblance of uncontrolled agitation as soon as the +footman had retired. His pose and facial expression was that of the +bearer of ill tidings to the life. Violet, strung to a pitch of nervous +tension by her lover's strange demeanour in the orangery the preceding +night, read in Nugent's countenance the exact emotion he intended to +show.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<p>"This is not a duty call, Mr. Nugent?" she said, as she motioned him to +a seat at her side. Nugent preferred to stand, looking down at her. He +wanted to mark the effect of every word he had to say.</p> + +<p>"No," he replied, deftly throwing off his "society" manner, and, with +the consummate skill of the genuine artist, speaking almost harshly. "I +wish it was, Miss Maynard. I am here on very serious business—so +serious that if I did not know you were a brave woman I should not dare +to approach you about it. As it is I am sorely tempted to run away and +leave matters as they are."</p> + +<p>"I beg you will not do that," said Violet gravely. "It would be more +cruel than if you had not come to me at all. I presume that it is about +the suspicion that has been cast on Mr. Chermside?"</p> + +<p>Nugent smiled inwardly as he noticed the change in her tone since last +night. No longer did she heap contempt upon the inference as to +Chermside's meeting with Levison. She was serious, and almost +pathetically meek. Like Mr. Mallory he had watched the lovers on their +return from the orangery to the drawing-room, and he had at the time +gloated over the coolness that had evidently arisen between them. That +ineffable idiot Chermside had, he congratulated himself, said or done +something to shake her confidence—just as he, Nugent, had expected and +intended.</p> + +<p>But aloud he said, "Yes, it is about Chermside. Greatly against my will, +I have consented to be his ambassador—to bring you a message from him, +Miss Maynard. It will be kindest to break the worst to you without +beating about the bush. Chermside is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> leaving England to-night. He is +going to sail for South America in the yacht which has been kept in +readiness for him at Weymouth."</p> + +<p>"Sailing to-night? Without coming to say good-bye—without a word of +explanation?" And the sweet eyes brimmed with unshed tears at the +conduct of the man who had so recently held her in his arms at that very +spot.</p> + +<p>"It is so hard to wound you," Nugent protested, and the faultlessly +simulated note of self-pity with which he tinged his speech carried +conviction. "He dared not come to you, Miss Maynard. Somehow the police +have got wind of the appointment he had with the dead man, and he is in +danger of arrest. He is in hiding, and it is touch and go whether he +will get on board safely after dark. I am a selfish man, and I would +give a good deal if Leslie Chermside's letters of introduction had been +to any one but myself. All this has placed me in a most unpleasant +position."</p> + +<p>"But I do not understand," Violet protested. "Mr. Chermside has not +committed this murder. Why does he not laugh at the charge, and stay and +meet it? He must be able to prove his innocence."</p> + +<p>Travers Nugent's shrug was eloquent—so eloquent that Violet fired up +instantly, rising and confronting him. "You cannot mean that you deem +him guilty?" she demanded, with ominous restraint.</p> + +<p>"My dear lady, no—a thousand times no," came the quick repudiation. +"But you must pardon my expressing the candid opinion that he is a fool, +a chivalrous, misguided fool, perhaps, who is risking his future from +some silly motive that would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> brushed aside in a second if he would +only enlighten his friends about it. I have pleaded with him to adopt +that course but it was of no avail. Nothing would satisfy him but to fly +the country, he avowed, till the murder of Levison had been cleared +up—I presume by the detection of the real criminal."</p> + +<p>"And in the meanwhile he is going to wander about the world in exile, +resting under a stigma which he does not deserve, till the end of his +days?"</p> + +<p>"I do not think he looks at it quite in that light," said Nugent, +choosing his words carefully. "He is trusting that this cloud will blow +over. Candidly, in my judgment, he is afraid that if he is brought to +trial some episode in his life will come out—as likely as not some +harmless piece of youthful folly—which he wishes to conceal."</p> + +<p>Violet made a hopeless gesture, avoiding the falsely sympathetic eyes of +this man, whom she intuitively disliked, but whose behaviour, she was +bound to admit, was perfectly correct. Her unseeing gaze made a dumb +appeal for comfort to the rich blooms of the rose-garden, to the blue +sky overhead, to the aged yew hedge that girt the place where she had +plighted her troth, but there seemed to be no comfort, no help anywhere. +Nugent's statement tallied with the impression she had formed the +previous night in the orangery exactly. Leslie had some reason, of which +he was ashamed, for dreading the fierce light of a legal inquiry being +thrown on his relations with the murdered Jew. It was to his credit, +anyhow, and she hugged the remembrance because she loved him, that he +had all along harped on some secret in his past career.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tell me," she said wearily, "what his message was. That can hardly have +been all of it—that he was running away?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Nugent, with the air of bracing himself for a distasteful +task, "there was something more. And before I pass it on to you, let me +assure you, Miss Maynard, that I tender no advice as to how you should +treat Chermside's proposition. I merely impart it to you as his +mouthpiece, and leave you to be guided by your own inclination and good +sense. But this I beg of you to believe—that if you decide to consent +to his request, my willing services are at your disposal. He wants to +bid you farewell, and he has commissioned me to arrange a meeting for +to-night, before he sails."</p> + +<p>In an ecstasy of eagerness Violet dropped some of her stately dignity +and clasped her hands. "Meet him?" she cried. "Of course I will, but it +will not be to say good-bye. If I have any influence over him, and I +know that I have, it will be used to induce him to abandon this +disgraceful flight and to face the accusation out. You have, indeed, +been a good friend, Mr. Nugent, in coming to me. When and where can I +see Mr. Chermside?"</p> + +<p>"Not till quite late to-night," was the reply. "It will not be safe for +the steamer to approach the coast and send a boat ashore till it is +thoroughly dark. Should you have any difficulty in leaving the house +here, say, at eleven o'clock?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least; I am my own mistress. I often go for a stroll in the +park before going to bed when it is fine."</p> + +<p>"Then if you will prolong your stroll to-night as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> far as the Ottermouth +road, I will be waiting with my car about a hundred yards from the +lodge," came Nugent's glib instructions. "I can easily run you to the +place where the ship's boat is to come to pick up Chermside inside ten +minutes. You may rely on me absolutely. I shall not fail you at the hour +mentioned. And now, as there is much to arrange, I will leave you."</p> + +<p>"I shall not keep you waiting," said Violet, shaking his extended hand +warmly. "Punctually at eleven on the Ottermouth road."</p> + +<p>But if she could have seen her kind helper's face as he turned his back +on her to quit the rose-garden, she would have felt misgivings as to the +honesty of his aid. Every line of it betokened an end gained by +questionable means.</p> + +<p>"Directly we're outside the lodge gates, drive to The Hut at top speed," +he bade the chauffeur as soon as he reached the motor car. Glancing at +his watch, he saw that it was nearly seven o'clock.</p> + +<p>"In a little over four hours I shall have earned Bhagwan Singh's +reward," he murmured to himself, as they slid down the avenue.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>THE SLEEPING SNAKE</h3> + + +<p>Captain Brant, of the turbine steam yacht <i>Cobra</i>, walked the spotless +deck of his vessel; and he walked slowly, for he was reading a letter +which the postman had just brought on board. While he read his hideous +features were twisted into the ape-like contortion that did duty with +him for a grin. When he had mastered the contents of the missive, he +thrust it into the pocket of his brass-buttoned reefer, and shouted for +"Mr. Cheeseman."</p> + +<p>An answering bawl was heard somewhere forward, and there came running +aft the bullet-headed mate who a few days before had at first refused +Travers Nugent admission to the ship.</p> + +<p>"Know anything about ladies' underclothes?" asked the wicked-looking +skipper, with a horrible leer.</p> + +<p>"Can't say I do, sir; but if it's in the way of duty I can jolly soon +find out," was the brisk reply.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's in the way of duty; and, by the same token, the need for the +duds is a sign that we are soon to clear out of this beastly port," said +the captain, scratching his chin. "I've heard from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> boss—the chap +that was here the other day—and it seems that when we start we're to +pick up a lady passenger, who will be in too great a hurry to bring her +trunks aboard. So we're to buy some things for her, here in Weymouth. +I'll give you a ten-pound note, and you can go ashore straight away and +buy what's necessary for a three weeks' voyage."</p> + +<p>"Aye, aye, sir," replied the mate. "What about the size?"</p> + +<p>"I forgot that," cackled Brant, and he referred to the letter. "My eyes! +but she must be a strapping fine girl—five feet ten high, and well +proportioned as to other dimensions. That means that she ain't too broad +in the beam, but just broad enough, I reckon. And there's another thing, +Bully, my boy."</p> + +<p>"Sir to you."</p> + +<p>"It was thought that the lady's own maid would go the voyage with her, +but it seems there's a doubt about it. Orders are to engage a woman to +act as stewardess and general attendant to the passenger, it being +owner's wish to show her every consideration in reason. While you're +ashore after the nighties and things, you're to look out a female to +suit the situation. Age and character immaterial. Any old geezer with a +bad record will do, so long as she's got a good muscle on her."</p> + +<p>"Right-o!" responded the truculent-looking mate. "Seems like a +kidnapping job, but that's no business o' mine."</p> + +<p>"And you wouldn't be chief officer on this ship for long if you were +fool enough to make it so," Brant piped in his squeaky treble. "Now get +ashore with you, and be back inside two hours with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> the drapery and the +woman. I can see by the letter I've had that we may get sailing orders +any minute."</p> + +<p>Cheeseman made a pretence of touching his cap, and vanished shoreward +over the gangway. The <i>Cobra</i> was still tied up to the quay at Weymouth, +her highly-paid crew of scoundrels chafing against the delay which +deferred their promised reward, but by this time thoroughly cowed by the +vessel's weird commander. There was not a man on her who dared leave the +ship without permission or definite orders. The grog-shops in full view +of "the sleeping snake," as they had dubbed the steamer, had no longer +temptation for men who knew that if they yielded to it, retribution +would be swift and sure. It was wiser, they argued amongst themselves, +to observe discipline and reap a harvest of shekels when the <i>Cobra's</i> +mission, whatever it might be, had been fulfilled. It was also the +easier to keep them on board, since most of them had been selected +because, for one reason or another, they were wanted by the police.</p> + +<p>Having despatched his subordinate on his curious mission, Captain Brant +made a tour of his ship, inspecting every portion of her with as close +an attention to detail as if she had been a man-of-war. The luxurious +and beautifully-upholstered saloon on the upper deck received a large +share of his critical scrutiny; while, in strange contrast, his next +visit was to a cabin on the lower deck, down in the bowels of the +vessel, which was hardly furnished at all, and was certainly not +luxurious. A bare bench, with some sacking on it, suggested that it was +meant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> for a bed, and that was about all. Screwed into the bulk-head +over the bench was a massive iron ring, and there lay on the floor a +longish chain and a complete set of leg-irons fitted with cruel anklets. +The only means of light was a small porthole protected by bars. The +place seemed to have been prepared as a lazaretto—a kind of maritime +prison.</p> + +<p>Brant smiled grimly at the forbidding-looking chamber, then went back to +the upper deck to await Cheeseman's return. Punctually at the stipulated +time the bullet-headed mate appeared at the gangway.</p> + +<p>"Well, where are the things? Where is the stewardess?" the captain +scowled at him, perceiving that he was empty-handed and unaccompanied.</p> + +<p>"The clothes will be delivered within half an hour; they had to make +some alterations," Cheeseman hastened to assure him. "As to engaging a +stewardess it's a dead failure. I saw one or two, but they won't join +without fuller particulars of where we're bound for and how long we're +to be away. I couldn't tell 'em, could I, seeing as I don't know +myself."</p> + +<p>The captain fired off half-a-dozen foul-mouthed expletives, and only +checked them when a telegraph boy skipped across the gang-plank and +handed him an orange-coloured envelope. Tearing it open, he glanced at +the contents and bade the youth begone. The form contained the single +word "Advance." Brant tore it into little pieces, and threw them +overboard.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sailing orders," he said laconically. "Make things hum, Cheeseman. We +must be off as soon as we get a full head of steam on her."</p> + +<p>In ten seconds the vessel was in a state of orderly confusion. The crew +appeared as by magic from the forecastle and went to their stations; the +engine-room staff mustered round the shining monsters that were their +especial care; the lazy fumes of blue vapour hovering over the funnel +from the banked fires changed to great coils of black smoke as the +stokers got to work on the furnaces. Brant took his place on the bridge, +and watched his gang of ruffians with sinister satisfaction. The period +of suspense was over, and they would give him no more trouble now that +the lust of gold was on them, and they were in a fair way to verify +Nugent's promises of a princely wage.</p> + +<p>It was not long before the mate ran up the bridge stairs and reported a +full head of steam and all ready to cast off. As he did so a cab rattled +over the cobblestones of the quay road, and drew up opposite the +<i>Cobra</i>.</p> + +<p>"And here's the lady passenger's outfit, just in time not to be left +behind," he added, catching sight of the cab as a young woman jumped +nimbly out of the vehicle, and, after paying the driver, came towards +the ship. Her progress was somewhat impeded by the weight of two large +cardboard boxes which she was carrying.</p> + +<p>Captain Brant cocked his bloodshot eye at the draper's assistant who had +been entrusted with the delivery of the urgent order, and an inspiration +came to him. The girl was not prepossessing, hav<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>ing strongly-marked, +determined features; but she had a powerful, almost masculine frame, for +all its size, not devoid of a certain panther-like grace. Brant uttered +one of his nasty cackles, and turned to Cheeseman.</p> + +<p>"We'll kill two birds with one stone, Bully," he said. "There's the fair +passenger's blooming trousseau, and there, by gosh, is the blooming +stewardess. Take the girl down into the saloon, and keep your jaw-tackle +busy with her while I get a move on the ship. Say you must check the +goods, or any flam of the sort. She'll do as well as another, soon as +she knows there's dollars in it. If you're clever we'll be out to sea +before she tumbles to it that she's left her native shores."</p> + +<p>The mate grinned comprehension, and running down to the deck met the +girl at the gangway. The moment they had disappeared into the saloon +Brant gave orders to cast off, and as soon as the ropes that had moored +the vessel to the quay had been hauled on board he rang the engine-room +bell. The <i>Cobra's</i> mighty screw began to churn the still waters of the +harbour, and slowly she sidled out into the fairway on the first stage +of a voyage that was to lead her—whither? Twenty minutes later she had +passed the green slopes of the Nothe and was heading at half-speed +towards the open sea under the frowning heights of Portland.</p> + +<p>At the end of that time Brant, from his perch on the bridge, saw the +saloon door open and the young lady from the draper's shop come out on +deck, followed by Bully Cheeseman. For an instant the girl stared round +in evident bewilderment, then turned upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> the man who had beguiled her +into false security while the ship was being got under weigh.</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded in a ringing voice that +reached the bridge—the voice of a woman too angry to use many words.</p> + +<p>"Skipper's orders," replied Cheeseman curtly. He had exhausted his +limited stock of spurious politeness in distracting her attention, and +now that the end was gained was not inclined to exert himself further.</p> + +<p>Before he could guard himself his cheeks were tingling under two +resounding smacks, his cap was knocked into the scruppers and his lank +hair was in the clutch of lithe fingers. But the man who had earned the +nickname of "Bully" was no respecter of sex, and, recovering himself, he +seized the girl by the throat and shook her viciously. In his rage he +might have gone to any lengths if Captain Brant had not run down the +bridge stairs and flung him aside.</p> + +<p>"Get to your duty," commanded the little atomy in his quavering treble. +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself for handling a lady so. A little +more velvet glove, and not quite so much iron hand till it's wanted, on +this ship, if you please, my son."</p> + +<p>Catching the wicked wink at the tail of his chief's eye, the mate +sheered off in seeming self-abasement, and left the involuntary +"stewardess" face to face with Brant. Somehow the courage which had +stood her in good stead with the sturdy "Bully" failed her when +confronted by this five-foot skeleton who looked as if he had been +buried and dug up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> again. Her firm mouth quivered a little, and there +was a suspicion of moisture in the sullen, wrathful eyes.</p> + +<p>"Now that you've had your lark perhaps you'll turn your beastly ship +round again and put me ashore," she strove to speak bravely. "I shall be +fined as it is, for not being back on time."</p> + +<p>Brant wheezed and cackled. "You've done with fines, my dear," he said, +running an approving glance over the imposing female figure in the +shabby black dress. "I'm going to be a father to you and make your +fortune. Fact is there's a lady passenger coming aboard presently who'll +want different company from us rough sailor-men, and I was bound to find +it for her. The moment you stepped out of that cab I spotted you for the +job, and there's not a bit of use in making a fuss. It'll be a gold mine +for you before you've done with it. You'll never need to stand behind a +counter again and be cheeked by rude old women—no, not in your +natural."</p> + +<p>The tall draper's assistant measured the captain with a calculating eye, +and saw that in him that was not to be reckoned in inches. She was +already mastering her indignation at the outrage. "You don't mean to put +me ashore?" she said firmly.</p> + +<p>"I'm d——d if I do," was Brant's energetic rejoinder.</p> + +<p>She appeared to reflect. "If there's really money in it I don't so much +mind," she said at length. "But if you want a quiet time you'll have to +meet me on one thing. You must run into Plymouth on your way down +Channel and give me a chance to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> let my young man know where I am. He's +in the Navy—a petty officer on the destroyer <i>Snipe</i>."</p> + +<p>Captain Brant rubbed his chin as if weighing the feasibility of the +proposition. "Well," he said, "it won't be at all convenient, but I'll +stretch a point to oblige you. You don't want to see the gentleman?"</p> + +<p>"No, so long as I can send word to him, or get a letter posted, it will +be all right."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll do that much for the sake of a quiet life."</p> + +<p>"You'll have to, or there'll be trouble," replied the matter-of-fact +young amazon, little guessing that the villainous skipper had not the +slightest intention of fulfilling his promise. A naval port, bristling +with warships, was the very last place the <i>Cobra</i> would be likely to +visit after her contemplated doings at Ottermouth that night.</p> + +<p>However, having for the time pacified his stewardess, he became civil +enough and allotted her a comfortable cabin near the saloon and next to +a large, luxuriously furnished state-room which he pointed out as +destined for the lady passenger whom they were to call for on their way +down the coast.</p> + +<p>"By the way," he wheezed with one of his monkey-like grins as he +prepared to return to the bridge, "I haven't had the honour of an +introduction. It might save awkwardness if you'd kindly put a name to +yourself, miss."</p> + +<p>"Jimpson," was the reply, "Miss Nettle Jimpson, and you'll find I'm a +stinging-nettle, if you don't treat me fair."</p> + +<p>Brant bowed with a mock solemnity, the hollow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>ness of which he scarcely +troubled to conceal. "Simon Brant has tamed vixens worse than you, my +lass," he muttered behind his yellow teeth as he swung himself back to +his perch.</p> + +<p>And all that lovely summer afternoon the <i>Cobra's</i> powerful turbine +engines drove the graceful vessel through the calm waters of the sunlit +sea nearer to its prey. At sundown speed was reduced in order to conform +with the instructions not to arrive off Ottermouth till after dark. But +when the last rose tint had faded from the western sky Brant gave orders +to steam slowly round the point at the river's mouth and heave to about +three miles from the shore.</p> + +<p>"Now the fun begins," he said to Cheeseman, who was with him on the +bridge. "Keep your eyes skinned for a blue light followed by a green due +north of us. When we see it you'll take the electric launch and drive +her to the point where the light is shown. There you'll find a passenger +waiting for you. Make the launch travel like hell, for you'll have +another trip later. Rat Mullins and Snobby Wilson will go with you. +They're about the toughest of the crowd, but I don't figure on trouble +for you. The chap that's bossing things ashore will have seen to that."</p> + +<p>So "the sleeping snake" lay on the gently heaving swell amid the gloom +of the moonless night, and waited.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>BLUE LIGHT AND GREEN</h3> + + +<p>Leslie Chermside stood at the window of the library at The Hut eating +his heart out in black despair. Travers Nugent had finally convinced him +that the police held a warrant for his arrest and that his only road to +safety—not, perhaps, though that was doubtful, from conviction of the +murder of Levison, but from exposure of his connivance at Violet +Maynard's abduction—lay in flight. He had consented to go on board the +<i>Cobra</i> after dark, and escape to South America or anywhere else. +Personally he did not care where he went. Wherever it was it would be +out of the life of her who had grown to be to him the very sun of his +existence.</p> + +<p>Furthermore, Nugent had prevailed on him to come over to The Hut that +morning and lie low there till it should be time to start. He had been +hoping against hope that he would be able to have one last interview +with Violet, but Nugent had been so strongly against it that he had +yielded.</p> + +<p>"What's the use, my dear fellow?" his plausible mentor had said. "You +couldn't take a proper farewell of her if you saw her. If you are to +succeed in sparing her the horror of learning of your original<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> offence, +neither Miss Maynard nor any one else must know that you are on the +wing. That little devil, Louise Aubin, would be sure to get wind of it +and inform the police. As it is, I am on tenterhooks lest she should +discover what is up. Write Miss Maynard a letter if you like, or, better +still, I will explain to her verbally to-morrow—after you have got +clear off."</p> + +<p>"What should you tell her?" Leslie asked dully.</p> + +<p>"I should do my best to whitewash your memory by throwing ridicule on +the allegation that causes your flight," was the prompt answer. "In +fact, I should go somewhere near the truth, and assert that it is not +the murder charge that you are running away from, but from the +revelation of some escapade which it would incidentally bring out. If +you like, I will tell her that you will write when you have reached your +destination."</p> + +<p>Leslie had jumped at the proposition, as it seemed to make his desertion +less abrupt and heartless. Also it deferred for a little while the final +severance, though he had no hope but that Violet would despise him +utterly, hate the very sound of his name, for what she would deem his +cowardice, even if she did not believe him guilty of the graver crime of +murder.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I shall be obliged if you will take that course," he had +said, though he hated to be placed under an obligation to the man whose +cunning greed had brought him to this pass.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," Nugent had answered glibly, as if divining his thoughts. +"I regard it as a kind of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> atonement to smooth matters as best I can, +for I have come to see the heinousness of our joint offence, Chermside. +I have been filled with remorse for some time that I did not repent of +it as soon as you did, and I can sympathize the more readily with you, +who have, I think, a keener pang than that of remorse to bear."</p> + +<p>The little touch of right feeling from such an unexpected quarter had +broken down Leslie's last guard, and he had placed himself unreservedly +in Nugent's hands. Quite early in the day he had left his lodgings, and +had sought temporary refuge at The Hut, entering the grounds with due +precautions by the secluded garden door from the moor, there to remain +till nightfall, when his host would see to it that he was smuggled on +board the <i>Cobra</i>. Nugent had stayed in and about the house till late in +the afternoon, when he had started out in his motor car, informing +Chermside, however, that he would not be long away, and enjoining upon +him the advisability of not on any account leaving the library.</p> + +<p>In the meanwhile Sinnett, the noiseless butler, who alone of the indoor +servants was aware of his presence in the house, was to be depended on +to preserve the secret; while outside watch and ward would be kept by a +trustworthy man who had come down from London to help in the +emergency—an old hanger-on, as Nugent described him, by the name of +Bill Tuke. Several times during the day Leslie had noticed from the +window this individual prowling about the grounds and coming in and out +of the door on to the moor. It was not for him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> to know that Tuke, with +whose raffish appearance he was not favourably impressed, had been +dubbed by Enid "The Bootlace Man."</p> + +<p>And now, at something after seven o'clock, he saw this unprepossessing +ally approach the window at which he stood brooding. The coarse features +wore a look of cunning satisfaction as he came and drummed on the pane, +requesting admission. Mastering his repulsion, Leslie undid the catch +and opened to him, reflecting that as he was supposed to be benefiting +by the man's services, it would be unfair to show antipathy.</p> + +<p>"Is the boss, Mr. Nugent, back?" Tuke asked, as he stepped over the +threshold of the French window into the comfortable apartment.</p> + +<p>Leslie was beginning to reply in the negative, when the whirr of a car +was heard on the other side of the house, where the approach from the +road led to the front door.</p> + +<p>"I expect that will be him," he said, as the sound ceased; and a minute +later Nugent entered the room, brushing the dust from his coat. He was +fresh from his interview with Violet Maynard in the rose-garden at the +Manor House. He started at sight of his unsavoury henchman.</p> + +<p>"Anything wrong?" he demanded of him.</p> + +<p>"I ain't seen any cops, if that's what you mean," replied Tuke with a +slight wink that called a quick scowl to his employer's face. "But I've +got a prisoner in the stone grotto in the shrubbery. The moor her into +the garden through the door from. Watched, and nabbed her clean as a +whistle as she was hiding from me——"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nugent stopped the flow of self-complacence with a repressive gesture, +and strode to the open window.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that spying ferret, Louise Aubin," he said hastily. "Well, come +with me and let her out, Tuke. You acted for the best, no doubt, but we +cannot shut young women up in stone grottos against their will in the +twentieth century. We must chance her having seen Mr. Chermside, and try +and induce her to keep quiet about it if she has. You'll have to +apologize, and I shall have to square her—if I can."</p> + +<p>Tuke, pretending to be abashed, followed into the nearer shrubbery, +where, as soon as they were hidden from the window, Nugent stopped +short. "You idiot!" he hissed, with suppressed fury. "Why did you blurt +that out before Chermside? You ought to have said that you wanted to +speak to me in private. It wasn't the Frenchwoman, I know, because she +was at the Manor House twenty minutes ago. Who is it that you caught +lurking about—that Mallory girl?"</p> + +<p>"It's her right enough."</p> + +<p>"Hasn't she screamed or made any attempt to attract attention?"</p> + +<p>"Not a blessed sound have I heard, and she's been there the best part of +twenty minutes now."</p> + +<p>"That's curious," said Nugent, puckering his brows in a thoughtful +frown. "She's just the sort to yell for release till her voice gave out. +She must have been frightened by your ugly mug, I suppose, and doesn't +want to fetch you back again. Well, anyhow, she must stay there now till +we've done<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> with the <i>Cobra</i>, and then we must make what excuses we can. +Of course you know as well as I do that there's no danger of +interference from the police, for the simple reason that Aubin hasn't +laid her information. I have been merely holding them over our friend in +the library as a bogey to induce him to go quietly on board the +steamer."</p> + +<p>"I tumbled to that much," replied Tuke, with a cunning smile.</p> + +<p>"Well, don't relax your vigilance on that account," was Nugent's +injunction. "There may be other prowlers—this girl's father, for +instance, or the onion-seller, Pierre Legros. Either of them might upset +our arrangements. And, above all, be within call when I want you."</p> + +<p>Tuke growled assent, and Nugent returned to the library. "I am sorry to +have left you alone so long to-day, but there has been much to do," he +said pleasantly, adding, as he noted the restless irritation in Leslie's +face, "Your suspense will soon be over. It is growing dark already, and +by the time we have had some dinner it will be time for you to start for +the chine. There are no signs of anything to prevent your safe +departure."</p> + +<p>"That girl, Louise Aubin—you let her out of the grotto, I hope?" said +Leslie. "I should be sorry if she was ill-treated on my behalf."</p> + +<p>"Chivalrous as ever!" Nugent could not resist the sneer. "Oh, yes; she's +half-way to the Manor House by now, reduced to a proper sense of her +misdemeanour. A little palm-grease works wonders with a Frenchwoman."</p> + +<p>Presently the silent Sinnett served dinner, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> during the meal Nugent +unobtrusively continued to work the repentant vein he had developed +earlier in the day. He waxed eloquent on his own difficult position as a +man of birth and expensive tastes, thrown by force of adverse +circumstances into a social groove that was really beyond his means.</p> + +<p>"I had not, perhaps, your excuse of abject misery, Chermside," he +remarked pathetically, "but the Maharajah's bribe was an enormous +temptation, and I yielded to his importunities the more readily as I had +incurred obligations to him. I shall look back upon our association with +shame to the end of my days."</p> + +<p>The proper feeling shown by his former accomplice called forth Leslie's +sympathy. "I hope that Bhagwan Singh has no hold on you?" he said. "He +is a vengeful beast, and from my knowledge of him he is not likely to +overlook your aiding my escape in his yacht after throwing him over. He +has the long arm of boundless wealth."</p> + +<p>"I am aware of that," Nugent replied gravely. "If he strikes at me, I +must pay the penalty. I must regard it as a just retribution."</p> + +<p>At ten o'clock Nugent went to the window, opened it, and called softly +into the darkness of the summer night for Tuke.</p> + +<p>"Have you got the flares?" he asked, when the mottled countenance of his +retainer appeared in the stream of lamplight. "That is well. Show the +blue first, remember, and then green. Now, Chermside—least said, +soonest mended. I am not going with you myself, but this man will see +you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> through. The captain of the <i>Cobra</i> has orders as to your +destination. Good-bye, and may your next venture end in happier +fashion."</p> + +<p>He held out his hand, and, conquered by his seeming mood, Leslie +returned the grasp. A moment later he was following his guide across the +lawn, and so out of the door on to the moor. The night air was heavy +with the scent of the dew-laden heather, across which they had to grope +their way, and the croak of a fern owl alone broke the stillness as they +skirted the golf links and came to the head of the chine at the foot of +which they were to flash the signals that would summon the <i>Cobra's</i> +launch.</p> + +<p>They were about to descend the steps cut in the cliff, when from the +house they had just left, a quarter of a mile away, the "teuf-teuf" of a +motor car was heard. Leslie found himself idly wondering what could have +taken Nugent from home again so late. Possibly he was going down to the +club for an hour or two, to drown the memory of his villainy in the +congenial company of gentlemen who would have spurned him from their +midst could they have known the manner of man he was.</p> + +<p>"Now, sir; mind where you're going," came Tuke's hoarse whisper. +"There's only a handrail in places, and a nasty drop if you fall."</p> + +<p>The warning recalled Leslie to himself, and he gave his attention to the +steep descent. In a little while they stood on the pebbly beach below, +where the incoming tide was making gentle music on the smooth stones. No +glimmer came across the dark sea to tell them whether the <i>Cobra</i> lay +out yonder in the inky pall, but that meant nothing. Nugent,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> they knew, +had given the captain orders to veil all lights before he arrived +opposite the town.</p> + +<p>Tuke produced two cardboard cylinders from under his coat, and, striking +a match, applied it to the conical head of one of them. There was a +spluttering fizzle, and the flare burst out into a brilliant blue flame +that shone steadily seaward, but was hidden from the coastguard station +and the parade by a jutting angle of the cliff wall. For two minutes it +glowed, and when it flickered out he repeated the illumination with the +green flare, carefully picking up the empty cases when his pyrotechnic +display was over.</p> + +<p>"There!" he whispered huskily. "Now all there is to do is to squat down +and wait. The boss said the launch is a quick 'un to travel. If the +steamer's no more than three miles out she ought to do it in twenty +minutes—with the tide in her favour."</p> + +<p>The forecast proved accurate. In a very little over the time mentioned +the click-clack of an electric motor was heard approaching the shore +from the gloom, and Leslie, catching up the small handbag which was all +the luggage he had dared remove from his lodgings, went down to the edge +of the waves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>THE TRAP CLOSES</h3> + + +<p>Miss Sarah Dymmock threw down the piece of old-fashioned embroidery on +which she had been engaged since dinner, yawning aggressively.</p> + +<p>"I'm a sleepy old woman, and I shall go to bed," she remarked with a +snap. "Young people nowadays are bad company, though I suppose I ought +to make allowances for you, Vi, as a what-d'you-call-it."</p> + +<p>"That's a vague term, auntie," said Violet Maynard with a wan smile. In +the absence of Montague Maynard in London the two ladies had been +spending the evening alone, and the girl's nerves were all on edge at +the prospect of the coming interview with her lover. The spacious +drawing-room at the Manor House had seemed like a prison, and dear Aunt +Sarah's fluent talk like the chatter of a persistent parrot. Violet was +annoyed with herself for her irritation, but she was nearly beside +herself with an intense craving to stand face to face with Leslie and +appeal to his manhood not to fly from the charge against him. The +dragging hours had seemed interminable, since Travers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> Nugent's +disclosure of Leslie's intended escape by sea.</p> + +<p>"By a what-d'you-call-it I mean a prospective victim on the altar of +Hymen," explained the old lady, rising and gathering up her work. "If I +had ever been in love, which God in his mercy has spared me, I should +have been pirouetting all over the place instead of sitting mum-chance +and twiddling my thumbs. By the way, why hasn't your young man been out +here to-day. Is he cooling off already?"</p> + +<p>"I can hardly expect him to dance attendance on me always, can I, +auntie?" replied Violet, making a brave effort to appear playful. She +was wondering how she should explain on the morrow that her lover had +been skulking somewhere all day preparatory to decamping altogether, if +she failed to prevent him from adopting that disgraceful course.</p> + +<p>Aunt Sarah sniffed as she took her bedroom candle. "I wasn't thinking of +his dancing attendance on you, but on me," she rejoined, working herself +into an entirely spurious passion. "I wanted him to sign the documents +for the transfer of the securities I am making over to him, but I +suppose that he has had other fish to fry. You'll have to teach him +manners, child, when you're married—or at any rate attention to his own +interests."</p> + +<p>The little wizened old woman pecked at the pale cheek which her +great-niece offered her, and stumped out of the room. Violet breathed a +sigh of relief, for it had been becoming a problem whether her aunt +would retire in time to allow her to get away unquestioned. It was quite +on the cards that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> energetic old spinster might have offered to +accompany her if she had said that she was going for a stroll in the +gardens before going to bed.</p> + +<p>As it was, she was free to make her preparations without interference, +and going out into the hall she provided herself with a motoring cap and +a heavy golf cloak. Returning to the drawing-room, she was about to +leave by one of the French windows when it occurred to her that as her +"stroll in the garden" was to-night an excuse for a more extended +expedition, it might be as well to take precautions against her being +locked out. She rang the bell and ordered the butler not to lock the +window, but to merely leave it on latch. She explained that she was +going to enjoy the beauty of the night in the open air, and might not +have returned when he went his rounds to see that all was secure.</p> + +<p>"And don't trouble to sit up for me, Watson," she added. "I have a +headache, and may be out some little while."</p> + +<p>"Shall I leave the lamps lighted, miss?" asked the butler.</p> + +<p>"In the drawing-room and in the hall," was the reply. "I will make +myself responsible for putting them out when I come in."</p> + +<p>The man bowed and retired, concealing with the tact of the well-trained +servant the surprise with which the cap and cloak inspired him. He was +aware that his young mistress was in the habit of walking in the grounds +at a late hour, but he had never previously received such an order about +not sitting up, nor had he known her to take precautions by putting on +additional wraps.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I've got my plate chest to think about," the faithful servitor muttered +as he made his way back to his pantry. "Miss Violet is always +considerate, but I'm blessed if I'm going to turn in while that window's +only on latch. It appears to me she isn't in a hurry to come in +to-night."</p> + +<p>Having got rid of Watson, Violet lost no time in starting to carry out +the project on which she was so feverishly bent. Along the noble avenue, +lit now by only a few pale stars in an opaque sky, she flitted like a +nymph of the night, only checking her footsteps as she passed the +lodge, lest she should awake the sleeping inmates. Out on the high road +she commenced running, and so neared the clump of trees where she was to +find the car. Nugent's carefully modulated voice hailed her from the +darkness.</p> + +<p>"That you, Miss Maynard? Right! Pray do not distress yourself by undue +haste. We have ample time before us. There, let me help you in and make +you comfortable. Dixon, take the hoods off the lamps and get in behind. +Miss Maynard will sit with me."</p> + +<p>Nugent, who was at the wheel, extended his hand, and when Violet had +settled herself at his side and the chauffeur had unveiled the great +acetylene lamps, he sent the car spinning for Ottermouth at half-speed. +But he avoided the road that would take him through the main street of +the little town, and struck into a series of country lanes that brought +them by a detour to The Hut, without having to pass more than a solitary +farmhouse.</p> + +<p>"We are in luck so far," he said when they had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> swept up the drive and +he had assisted Violet to alight. "We didn't meet a soul all the way. +Dixon, have the car ready here. I shall want to take Miss Maynard back +to the Manor House presently. Now," he added, beckoning Violet to follow +him, "we will go round this way, please."</p> + +<p>The girl, all her mind set on her purpose, obeyed like one in a dream. +She wanted to meet Leslie and bring him to reason. It mattered nothing +to her how she reached her goal so long as her task was swiftly +accomplished, and she knew that the shortest way to the sea was through +the grounds of The Hut. So without demur she followed Nugent round the +house to the lawns and gardens at the back.</p> + +<p>"It would be best to be perfectly silent," her guide whispered as they +struck across the greensward. "My servants may not all have gone to bed +yet, or some one else might be about."</p> + +<p>"I—I thought I heard something there," replied Violet, laying a hand on +his arm and glancing apprehensively at the spectral outline of the +grotto, the walls of which gleamed white amid the gloom of the +shrubbery.</p> + +<p>"Only the breeze in the foliage," Nugent murmured hastily, and, taking +the girl's hand almost roughly, he hurried her to the door on to the +moor, opened it, and as quickly closed it when they had passed through.</p> + +<p>"There!" he said in a tone of unaffected relief, "we shall find no more +obstacles in our way but a short walk through the heather and a scramble +down the steps to the beach. Chermside will be waiting for us at the +foot of Colebrook Chine."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>But that prophecy was not to be verified. When at length they stood on +the pebbles of the shore the figure which emerged from a nook in the +cliff was not Leslie Chermside, but Bill Tuke, "The Bootlace Man."</p> + +<p>"Well, where is Mr. Chermside?" Nugent demanded of him angrily.</p> + +<p>"It's not my fault that he ain't here, sir," the fellow replied in +seemingly surly protest. "Nothing I could say would make him stop. As +soon as the launch came he insisted on going off to the steamer."</p> + +<p>Violet uttered a cry of anguish. Her self-set task had failed. Not only +had her lover fled, but he had fled like a craven without keeping the +tryst which he had himself sought.</p> + +<p>"Did he leave no message?" Nugent inquired, in a tone of perplexity that +sounded perfectly natural.</p> + +<p>"He did that," replied Tuke. "I was to say that he was frightened to +wait about here on the shore lest the coppers should pinch him, but that +he would ask the captain, directly he got on board, to keep the yacht +out there for a bit, and to send the launch back for the lady. Then she +could come out to the steamer and bid him good-bye, and the launch could +put her ashore again afterwards."</p> + +<p>Nugent turned impetuously to Violet. It was too dark for her to see the +expression on his face, but the quiver in his voice was eloquent of +hardly-restrained indignation. "Chermside must have lost his head or his +nerve," he said. "Though that is no excuse for such a want of +consideration. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> request is outrageous. I will not worry you with my +sympathy, Miss Maynard, for I cannot trust myself to speak. Come! Let me +take you home without delay, for of course you will not accede to this +preposterous request."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, that is exactly what I mean to do—if the launch comes +for me," replied Violet, straining her wet eyes seaward through the +gloom. "You must remember that it was not to say farewell but to prevent +him from going that I came here, Mr. Nugent. I am very sensible of your +kindness in bringing me, and I regret Mr. Chermside's conduct as an +insult to you, even greater than to me. I will not ask you to remain +till I return from the steamer. If—if I am alone I shall prefer to make +my way home by myself."</p> + +<p>"My duty to your father, who is my friend——" Nugent was beginning.</p> + +<p>"I have my duty to myself, and to my affianced husband to consider," +Violet cut him short. "Pray spare me an argument in my distress, Mr. +Nugent. My mind is quite made up to go out to the yacht."</p> + +<p>And, as if to fortify her resolve, there sounded from the dark sea the +pulsing clack of the electric launch as it sped towards the shore. A few +moments later it had been skilfully beached, and a gruff voice inquired +in a guarded undertone—</p> + +<p>"Is the lady there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am here and ready," responded Violet eagerly; and she went down +across the pebbles to where the bows of the tiny craft nuzzled the +shore. A horny hand was stretched out to her, and she was drawn on +board. When Nugent had tossed a letter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> into her, the launch backed off, +and, circling round, started for the second time that night on its trip +back to the steamer.</p> + +<p>"Pray do not wait, Mr. Nugent; I shall be really vexed if you do," +Violet's vibrant tones rang from the fast-receding launch.</p> + +<p>The reply was uttered so low that it reached no ears but those of Tuke, +who, like some foul bird of the night, had hovered round, taking no part +in the scene after the delivery of his alleged message.</p> + +<p>"I have no intention of causing you any such vexation, dear lady. The +wait would, indeed, be a long one," was what Travers Nugent said, as he +turned to climb the steps to the top of the cliff.</p> + +<p>And the subtle humour of the remark, which was apparently intelligible +to "The Bootlace Man," caused that worthy to break into a snigger of +servile laughter—the kind of merriment which the junior bar concedes to +a jest from the bench.</p> + +<p>"That's a good 'un, sir," he wheezed. "She won't trouble you much more, +I'm thinking. But what about the little gel in the grotto? She'll make +it nasty for us if she ain't let out soon, I reckon."</p> + +<p>"Not for <i>us</i>, Tuke," was Nugent's sardonic rejoinder. "But she will +probably make it very nasty for <i>you</i>, or rather her father will. I +intend you to bear the brunt of Mr. Mallory's displeasure, my friend, on +the usual terms. In other words, you will be well paid for any +unpleasantness you may incur on my behalf. I am going to release Miss +Enid Mallory now, and as the tale I intend to regale her with does not +entail your presence, you had better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> go back to your lodging. And by +the first train in the morning you must clear right out for your kennel +in London. I will communicate with you by letter as to future +requirements."</p> + +<p>So at the summit of the cliff they separated, Tuke taking the path to +the lower end of the town, where for some days he had been domiciled in +a fisherman's cottage, and Nugent striking out across the moor for the +back way into his own grounds.</p> + +<p>Before he closed the door in the hedge, he turned and looked seaward. +Some three miles out a brilliant streak of light was visible. It was +moving rapidly westward, like a golden snake gliding on the face of the +dark waters. The phenomenon was evidently caused by the port-hole lights +of an electrically-lit steamer.</p> + +<p>The watcher drew a deep breath of satisfaction. "Brant has lost no time +in getting under weigh," he muttered, as he softly shut the door.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>THE SHADOW OF HORROR</h3> + + +<p>Leslie Chermside, having taken his seat in the launch, felt more at ease +in his mind than he had done for many a day. Ever since he had been told +of the suspicion that threatened him in respect of Levison's death, he +had been reconciling himself to the loss of Violet. That dream of +midsummer madness had from the first, he realized, from the nature of +the circumstances, been doomed to a rude awakening, in spite of Aunt +Sarah's generosity. The shattering of his ill-starred love idyll might +be borne manfully, as an adequate punishment for his iniquity, and when +time had healed his wound he might even rejoice in his expiation.</p> + +<p>But with very different feelings had he viewed the possible revelation +of his misdeed. That simply would not bear thinking about. That Violet +should ever know that he had sought her out in order that her proud +young beauty should be offered as an unwilling sacrifice to a licentious +Eastern prince was an ever-present nightmare that set him trembling like +a frightened child.</p> + +<p>And now the strain was over. By his flight he had escaped the terrible +disclosures which would have followed arrest, no matter what the +verdict<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> might have been. That Violet would resent his conduct and +despise him for it he could not help. Even if Nugent kept his promise of +trying to soften it down, the girl's displeasure was inevitable, but it +would be as heaven to hell compared with the ignominy he would have +incurred by full disclosure. And, to do him justice, he had not been +wholly selfish in shrinking from that ignominy. He knew his sweetheart's +pure faith in him, and he had been honestly anxious to spare her +virginal soul the shock of discovering the loathsome thing from which +her short-lived romance had sprung. It might even have been her +death-wound—to find that she, the coldly-critical social queen, had +surrendered, after so brief a wooing, to a miscreant who had set out to +sell her into bondage.</p> + +<p>Now, if his luck held, that hideous spectre of disgrace was laid for +ever. He would go forth a lonely and a penniless man, to commence life +afresh with what courage he could muster in some refuge for human +derelicts beyond the seas. If he could not retrieve the past, he might +at least lock it up in his own seared heart, as in a chamber of horrors +to which he alone had access—to be a torment to himself alone.</p> + +<p>So, as the launch cleft the calm sea, his troubled spirit caught +something of the influence of the summer night, and he began to take an +interest in his immediate prospects. Before he left London to come down +to Ottermouth on his misguided mission, he had accompanied Nugent +occasionally to the docks where the <i>Cobra</i> was fitting out, and he had +made the acquaintance of Captain Brant.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> In those reckless days he had +conceived a great antipathy to the crafty and cruel sailor, and he had +reason to believe that the dislike was reciprocated. He wondered how +much Nugent had told Brant of their original scheme, and whether he had +informed him that he was the cause of its failure. If so, he was likely +to be treated with scant courtesy during the voyage.</p> + +<p>He was not long left in doubt as to the captain's attitude towards him +when the launch had run alongside the steamer, and he had climbed the +ladder to the deck. Brant met him as he stepped aboard, but ignored his +presence, and called down to Bully Cheeseman and the two men who had +remained in the launch—</p> + +<p>"Now turn her right round and go back again to the same spot. You know +what to do. You'll find Mr. Nugent waiting for you, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Aye, aye, sir," came out of the darkness, and Leslie heard the +tick-tack of the motor as the little craft sped for the shore. He could +hardly believe his ears. Why should a second trip be necessary, and why +should Nugent, who had declined to accompany him to the beach, be +waiting there now, when his car had left The Hut shortly after his own +departure?</p> + +<p>"Good evening, captain," he said, forcing himself to speak civilly. "Is +it not rather risky to hang about off shore now that I am aboard?"</p> + +<p>Brant's baleful eyes blazed like coals of fire in the blackness of the +darkened ship. "And who the h—ll are you, sir, to dictate to me what's +a risk and what isn't?" the commander of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> <i>Cobra</i> piped in his +shrill falsetto. "I understand that it's your damned foolishness that's +made all this jiggery-pokery necessary. A nice one to talk about risks, +when we're taking them on your account. You just have patience, and +amuse yourself till I have time to attend to you."</p> + +<p>He swung on his heel and mounted the stairs to the bridge, where he +entered into a low-voiced colloquy with one of his subordinates. Only a +few words of it reached Leslie, but they were enough to show that a keen +look-out was being kept for the approach of fishing or other small boats +to the steamer. That was all in order. Being engaged in the punishable +offence of assisting a fugitive from justice to escape arrest it was +intelligible that the captain should be anxious to cover the traces of +his misdemeanour. But why the delay? Why the return trip of the launch +to the shore, where, so far as he was aware, she had fulfilled her +mission in bringing him safely off?</p> + +<p>He could find no satisfactory answers to the questions, and, giving up +the attempt, he tried to accept the situation philosophically. Not +knowing what accommodation had been allotted to him, he could not seek +his cabin; so he put his handbag down on the deck and set to pacing to +and fro. It was so dark that it was almost impossible to distinguish +objects close at hand, and though the crew were evidently alert and at +their stations, he could make nothing of them individually. The +discipline was perfect.</p> + +<p>He passed and repassed ghostlike figures on his promenade, sometimes +singly and sometimes in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> groups, but they never spoke in so much as a +whisper. The silence of the dead reigned over the ship.</p> + +<p>He tired of walking at last, and, leaning over the stern-rail, let his +eyes range towards the twinkling lights of distant Ottermouth. At this +late hour they were momentarily growing fewer, only the larger +residences on the hill behind the town showing up in bold relief, and +the row of lodging-houses on the parade flanked by the more brilliant +glow from the billiard-room of the club. The sight of the quiet haven +which had yielded him a short and fickle respite renewed his remorse and +filled him with regret. Such joys as the placid little pleasure-haunt +had to offer were not for him. His proper place was on the scrap-heap of +human failures.</p> + +<p>The depression found vent in a sigh that was more than half a groan, and +he was immediately surprised to hear it echoed near by. Turning sharply, +he discerned the dim outline of a woman also leaning over the stern-rail +within a few feet of him.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind me," she said, noticing his start. "I expect I shouldn't +have made any sound if you hadn't let on that you had the blues too. +Sighing is pretty near as catching as yawning, I've been told, and now I +know it's true."</p> + +<p>Leslie could not see her features—only that she was tall and +finely-built. He wondered who the woman could be, for he had not been +informed by Nugent of the engagement of any female attendants.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps your case is the same as my own—that you are not looking +forward to the voyage with pleasure?" he said kindly.</p> + +<p>Miss Nettle Jimpson uttered a short laugh.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> "At any rate, you are +starting of your own free will," she said. "At least I suppose so, for I +was watching you when you came aboard just now, and you didn't make any +bones about it. It's different with me. That monkey-faced little devil +on the bridge never gave me the option, but just shipped me like a bale +of goods to suit his own convenience."</p> + +<p>"But surely——" Leslie was beginning.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't make any mistake! I was a consenting party as soon as I heard +the terms," Miss Jimpson cut him short, drawing a little nearer. "I'm an +avaricious sort of beast, and the prospect of a quick haul tempted me to +take Captain Brant's practical joke lying down. You see, I've got a +young man in the navy, and it seemed a shorter cut to setting up +housekeeping than serving behind the counter in a draper's shop. I acted +on the spur of the moment, as I always do, and lucky for the captain I +did, or he'd have got his ugly face scratched."</p> + +<p>"May I ask what position you hold on board—for what duties you were +engaged?" asked Leslie. The voluble young person puzzled him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm a kind of mix between a stewardess and a maid to the lady +passenger, I believe, though that old rascal baited the hook by calling +me a companion."</p> + +<p>"The lady passenger?" Leslie repeated blankly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and that leads up to what I wanted to ask you. Why didn't she come +out to the steamer with you? You see, if it's an elopement, it will +smooth it down for me a lot. I'm that romantic I shall be really +interested, instead of grizzling all the time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> till we get back. Some +hitch in your young lady's getting off, I suppose, as the launch had to +go back to fetch her? Brant has been like a cat on hot bricks ever since +we sighted that little town yonder, lest something should go wrong. I +hope it hasn't, for your sake. I should be sorry for anything in the +shape of an angry parent to break the spell of love's young dream, +having been there myself."</p> + +<p>Leslie thought he understood. His dimly-seen companion at the stern-rail +had been "shipped," as she called it, while the ship was lying in the +London docks weeks before, when the original plot for the abduction of +Violet Maynard held good. She had been informed of half the vile plot in +which he had then been an accomplice—that the yacht belonged to him, +and that it was being used for an elopement. She was still in that +belief, the darker side of the story having been kept from her, and she +was under the delusion that she would have a lady to wait on during the +voyage.</p> + +<p>But why, Leslie asked himself, had the delusion been fostered so long +after Nugent, and through him, of course, Brant, had been aware of the +breakdown of the conspiracy? Why, for the matter of that, was the woman +on board at all, since there would be no unhappy captive for whom her +services would be required? The obvious thing to have done would have +been to put her ashore at Weymouth directly the wicked project was +abandoned.</p> + +<p>"There must be some mistake," he said. "I am sorry to spoil your +romantic anticipations, but I am certainly not eloping with anybody. So +far as I know, I am to be the only passenger."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then what's that old liar's game?" blurted Miss Jimpson. "Only this +morning, when he had the cheek to keep me aboard, he said——"</p> + +<p>"Only this morning," Leslie interrupted in dull amazement. "Do you mean +that only to-day for the first time you made the acquaintance of Brant?"</p> + +<p>"That is precisely what I do mean. I never saw him or his ship till this +morning at eleven o'clock in the harbour at Weymouth. The yarn he +pitched me then was that he was going to pick up a lady down along the +coast, and that he wanted one of her own sex to keep her company. 'Tis +true he did not say anything about an elopement. It was me who figured +that out after you came aboard alone and the launch went back for the +lady."</p> + +<p>"Went back for the lady!" gasped Leslie, a lurid light beginning to dawn +upon his dazed senses.</p> + +<p>"Well, I expect it's one of my own sex; I don't suppose all the pretty +frilly things Brant ordered and paid for, and which I brought on board, +were for you or any other gentleman," was Miss Nettle Jimpson's pert +rejoinder. "That's what gave me the elopement notion, don't you see—a +girl running away on the quiet, and in too much of a pucker to bring her +own trunks. And I'm right, after all! Here's the launch back again, and +just listen to that!"</p> + +<p>Leslie had been conscious of the clack of the electric motor for the +last thirty seconds, but now, as it sounded close under the side of the +steamer, slowing down at the foot of the accommodation ladder, it was +supplemented by the clear tones of a woman's voice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>—the well-loved +tones which he had never thought to hear again, and which rather than +hear in that place he would gladly have died a hundred deaths.</p> + +<p>For it was the voice of Violet Maynard, self-possessed and confident, +assuring the crew of the launch that she was quite accustomed to +climbing up the side of a yacht in the dark, and that she would need no +help but that of her own hands to scale the dangling rope-ladder.</p> + +<p>The truth in all its naked horror burst upon Leslie at last. The +original object of the plot had been gained in spite of his own +defection. Travers Nugent had been playing a deep and subtle part, and +by some trick had prevailed on the girl to place herself in the power of +her enemies. In another minute she would be hopelessly in the toils, and +the <i>Cobra</i>, having gorged her prey, would be steaming at the full speed +of her powerful engines on her long voyage to distant Sindkhote.</p> + +<p>His memory flew back to the tinselled splendour of the Maharajah's +palace, then to the satanic countenance of its owner, and to all the +terrors that these implied for the girl in whose foul betrayal he was at +any rate a link in the chain. He turned in despair to the odd young +woman whose narrative was now quite intelligible.</p> + +<p>"I don't know your name, but you sound honest and true, and I'm going to +appeal to you," he whispered hoarsely. "They have lured that lady to the +ship in ignorance that she is to be kidnapped abroad. I am going to try +to prevent it, but I shall probably fail and be killed in the next few +minutes. If so, I beseech you to be this poor girl's friend to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> the best +of your power. The vessel is manned by reckless outlaws."</p> + +<p>Without waiting for a reply, he sprang forward to the head of the +accommodation ladder and shinned down it into the launch. There was not +much sense in the forlorn hope—only a wild longing to do something, and +to stake all, life itself, on the chance that he might prevail by +surprise. If he could disable the crew of the launch before they +realized that they were being attacked he might sheer off and get away +in the darkness.</p> + +<p>Violet was reaching for the rope rungs of the ladder as he half fell +into the little craft, nearly knocking her down in his staggering +onrush. Then, steadying himself, he sent his fists crashing right and +left into the faces of two men who clutched at him, ducked to avoid a +third, and in doing so tripped and fell headlong to the bottom of the +boat.</p> + +<p>Before he could recover himself a heavy knee was grinding into his +chest, and the muzzle of a revolver made a cold circle on his forehead.</p> + +<p>"What in thunder is all that racket about?" came down Captain Brant's +squeaky hail from the bridge.</p> + +<p>"It's the cove we brought off last trip making a bid for freedom, but +I've fair downed him," went up Bully Cheeseman's reply. "Shall I shoot?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Brant. "I want him for something better than that. I'll send +a hand down with some rope. Then you can truss him up, and we'll hoist +him aboard."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3>IN THE STONE GROTTO</h3> + + +<p>When the door of the stone grotto in the shrubbery at The Hut was +slammed in Enid Mallory's face by "The Bootlace Man" her first sensation +was one of relief that the repulsive creature had gone away without +maltreating her. This was quickly followed by burning indignation at +being locked in, so that her sphere of usefulness was limited to the +narrow confines of the mouldy moss-grown chamber. And her anger was in +turn succeeded by a humorous appreciation of her plight.</p> + +<p>"This is what comes of aiding and abetting father's detective +propensities," she laughed, immediately checking her merriment lest it +should cause the return of her unsavoury captor.</p> + +<p>Now that the door was shut the gloom of the mausoleum-like interior was +increased twenty-fold, the meagre light that filtered through the +ivy-choked window scarcely showing the walls of her prison. But by +degrees her bright young eyes grew more accustomed to the obscurity, and +she began to search for means of escape. Having embarked on the venture +more or less in a spirit of bravado, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> being totally ignorant of the +tremendous issues hanging in the balance, she was more concerned to get +out of her pother without incurring ridicule than with anything else.</p> + +<p>She attached but little importance to the triumphant insolence of Tuke +when locking her in. The words he had used suggested that he was acting +on his own initiative, and not on specific orders from Mr. Nugent, whose +approval he hoped to gain. It was possible that he might meet with +reproof instead of praise. But she was aware that there was no love lost +between her father and the gentleman on whose property she was an +undoubted trespasser, and she was annoyed with herself for having done a +silly thing which might make an apology necessary.</p> + +<p>"If father has to eat humble pie to Mr. Nugent on my account it will be +simply rotten," she murmured. "I wish I could get out of this before +that wretched man brings him. If I only could there would be nothing to +prove that his story is true, or at worst I could stick it out that it +was not me he caught."</p> + +<p>But to wish herself out of the grotto was one thing, and to find a means +of exit another. The door was of oak, strongly clamped with iron and +quite impervious to any battery she could administer. She had her golf +clubs with her, and essayed to prise open the lock with her driving +iron, but the heavy bolt resisted all her efforts. The window was high +out of her reach, and if it had not been it was too small for her to +creep through. With tears of vexation in her eyes she had to admit that +escape was impracticable. There was nothing for it but to await an +ignominious release by way of the door when Nugent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> should have been +apprised of her capture. It was possible, she thought ruefully, that he +might pretend he had not been told, and keep her there all night as a +punishment for her intrusion.</p> + +<p>Having resigned herself to the inevitable, Enid characteristically cast +about for means to extract what comfort she could out of her cheerless +surroundings. The materials at hand were not very promising, the +contents of the grotto consisting of a broken lawn-mower, some empty +kegs that had held patent manure, and a few obsolete garden tools. But +she now noted, what she had missed before, a bench at the far end, +running the whole breadth of the grotto. Upon it lay a lot of matting, +such as is used for protecting cucumber frames in frosty weather.</p> + +<p>"I'm in luck's way at last," she muttered. "That'll make a ripping sofa +on which to take it easy till I'm let out of durance vile."</p> + +<p>Suiting the action to the word, she moved one or two of the upper mats +more to her liking, and then stretched her lithe young frame luxuriously +on the improvised couch. In a moment she was on her feet again, staring +in dismay at her hastily vacated nest, while every nerve in her body +tingled with apprehension.</p> + +<p>Something had moved—"squirmed," she called it afterwards—beneath the +mats. Something soft and yielding, horribly suggestive of a human body +discomfited by her weight.</p> + +<p>But there was no further movement. Relieved of its incubus, the thing +that had wriggled its dumb protest had reverted to its previous +quiescence,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> and was as uncannily still as it had been all the time she +had been in the grotto. Enid felt that she must do one of two +things—either scream at the top of her voice, or fathom the mystery of +what, or who, it was that lay concealed.</p> + +<p>She was no screamer, so screwing up her lips tightly she chose the +second course. A few vigorous tugs sent the mats flying hither and +thither, and disclosed a man lying prone upon his face on the wooden +seat, flattened out like a gigantic lizard. Enid shrank back a little as +the figure rose slowly, uncoiling its cramped limbs and peering and +blinking up at her. Intuitively she recoiled further still when she saw +the ferocity in the haggard eyes.</p> + +<p>But even as she looked the fierceness died out, giving place to an +expression of patient sadness. The man, who was clad in a cotton blouse +and blue jean trousers, made a half-respectful, half-deprecating +gesture.</p> + +<p>"Ah, so it is not Louise," he said gently in French. "So much the better +for the traitress, and for me, perhaps." Then he added in broken +English, "Ma'amselle must not be frighted. I do her no harm. I only poor +sailor man from onion ship, come in naice cool place for rest."</p> + +<p>On the instant Enid's self-possession returned to her. She remembered +what her father had said to Reggie Beauchamp—that the clue to the +murder of Levison was probably connected with a French lugger engaged in +the onion trade, at present lying at Exmouth. It was on the cards that +her adventure was not to turn out so fruitless as she had feared. But +the man would require careful handling, for she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> did not lose sight of +the fact that she might be in the presence of a murderer. And she was +handicapped by not knowing what were the relations between Travers +Nugent and this foreigner.</p> + +<p>In coming to a conclusion on the latter point, her inherited powers of +deduction came to her aid. She shrewdly reasoned that if the man were +well disposed towards the owner of The Hut, he would hardly be lurking +in the grounds, hidden under a pile of matting.</p> + +<p>"I was not frightened—only startled," she replied pleasantly. "You see +I am an intruder here, just as much as I expect you are yourself. I am +afraid it will be as awkward for you as for me—my getting myself locked +in by that horrid creature."</p> + +<p>Pierre Legros laughed grimly. "It no matter to me, so long as the right +person come to unlock the door," he said.</p> + +<p>The words were suggestive of some sinister purpose—if not of some +secret relating to the past. Enid reflected quickly that she must draw +this man out if he was to be useful to her in either respect. And it +also occurred to her that he might be made useful in more ways than as a +source of information.</p> + +<p>"You thought I was some one else when I sat down upon you?" she said, +ignoring his last remark, and trying to read his features in the gloom. +It was light enough to enable her to note that her question recalled the +ferocity to his deep-sunk eyes, though not for her. His hardening gaze +was rather for some one he saw in his mental vision.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I t'ink you was anozer person, ma'amselle, and for that I demand +of you the kind pardon, for she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> very weecked person," he said. +"Ma'amselle not cruel and weecked—I Pierre Legros, tell by her voice. +But that ozair, she <i>fille du diable</i>, and trample on the heart of man, +and make him more bad than herself. She and her false Ingleesh lover."</p> + +<p>The onion-seller had no more terrors for Enid, and she drew a little +closer, subtly conveying the idea of confidence in order to win his +confidence. She rejoiced that she had been locked up in the grotto now. +She guessed that the core of the mystery lay under the cotton blouse of +this rugged foreign sailor, and she meant to have it out of him by hook +or by crook. Rapidly casting about for the most effective weapon in her +equipment, she hit upon friendly sympathy as the best—for the opening +of the campaign, at any rate. A little later, perhaps, she would play +for all it was worth the sentiment that they were companions in the same +dilemma.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry that you are in trouble," she said kindly, and wondering +what language Reggie would use if he knew how he was to be exploited for +her purpose. "I wish I could help you, for I, too, know what it is to +have an affair of the heart. I am betrothed to a sailor, and he has gone +away and left me miserable. Got half a dozen wives in half a dozen +ports, I expect."</p> + +<p>Enid Mallory was her father's daughter, and had inherited a strain of +the veteran diplomatist's knowledge of human nature. A thrill of victory +ran through her veins as she noted the effect of her Parthian shot. For +Pierre Legros lifted his brown hands to his swarthy face and wept such a +flood of tears as a British seaman could not have secreted,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> let alone +shed, in a lifetime. She waited patiently till the paroxysm had passed, +and then reaped her reward in a flow of excited verbiage which amounted +to this—</p> + +<p>He was one of the hands on a lugger which had brought a cargo of onions +from France, and in the course of vending his wares about the country he +had discovered his old sweetheart, Louise Aubin, in service at the Manor +House. But her head had been turned by a succession of English admirers, +and she would have nothing to do with him. Legros waxed somewhat +incoherent about the personality of these swains, slurring over his +first efforts to defeat his rivals in a jumble of phrases, from which, +however sharp-witted Enid was able to form a distinct suspicion. Her +father had hinted that the murder of Levison might be connected with the +onion ship; she believed that she was shut up with the actual +perpetrator of the crime.</p> + +<p>Bringing his narrative down to date, in explanation of his concealment +in the grounds of The Hut, Legros became more intelligible. Enid could +hardly believe her ears when it transpired that Mr. Travers Nugent +himself was the object of this half-demented creature's jealousy. She +was convinced that he was the victim of some ridiculous error, since to +associate the fastidious, middle-aged bachelor with a vulgar intrigue +with a lady's maid was the height of absurdity. But there was no doubt +that, however the misunderstanding had arisen, Legros was firmly +convinced of its truth.</p> + +<p>He had of late found that Louise was paying frequent clandestine visits +to Nugent, and as a conse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>quence he had spent much time in hanging about +and spying on them. That very morning he had crept from the moor into +the garden for the purpose, and he had been making his way through the +shrubbery when he heard Nugent's voice coming towards him. He had taken +refuge in the grotto, and had barely had time to conceal himself under +the mats when Nugent had entered, accompanied by the man who had just +now made them both prisoners by locking the door.</p> + +<p>"They made plenty talk, ma'amselle, till my poor head ache," Legros +continued with that note of self-pity which seemed his leading +attribute. "And their talk was of 'the girl'—always the girl, and how +she was to be deported—is that your word?—in a steamer that would come +off the shore to-night. There was also talk of anozaire—a man, one +Jermicide—who was to be deported and made what you call decoy for +tempting her on to the steamer. The girl, <i>cela va sans dire</i>, is Louise +Aubin, and Nugent, he run off with her. I not rightly know where +Jermicide what you call come in, for I nevair heard of him. He must be +one more of the lovers of Louise. She raise 'em like the mushrooms, here +in your damp country."</p> + +<p>Enid's active brain worked rapidly. The onion-seller had evidently got a +bee in his bonnet which it was useless to try to disentangle. The +salient fact stood out that Nugent had a project afoot for that night, +in which all the principal actors in the Levison mystery, as enumerated +by her father, were concerned, and of which her father would wish to be +informed without delay. And here was she, his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> only possible informant, +a prisoner without any prospect of release except at the hands of a +cunning schemer who would have reason for preventing her from imparting +the knowledge she had acquired. The action of "The Bootlace Man" in +locking her in took a more sinister meaning by the light of what she had +heard, and at the same time made her more than ever anxious to escape.</p> + +<p>The suggestion that Violet Maynard's maid was the object of Nugent's +machinations she dismissed with scorn, but that Leslie Chermside was to +be "deported" in a steamer, either voluntarily or otherwise, was an item +which ought to be under her father's consideration before it became an +accomplished fact.</p> + +<p>"I think that if I was out of this horrid place I could help you," she +said. "Miss Maynard, the mistress of Louise, is a friend of mine. I +would go to her and persuade her not to allow Louise any liberty +to-night. Sailors are so clever, especially French sailors. I am sure +that you will be able to hit upon some way of getting out."</p> + +<p>The sun was low in the heavens, and inside the shrub-girt grotto it was +scarcely possible to see the walls. Legros peered up at the little +window, the top of which was just on a level with the eaves, where the +slope of the roof began. Enid followed the direction of his glance, and +pointed out that the aperture was not big enough for either of them to +pass through. For answer Legros went and collected some of the patent +fertilizer kegs, set them one upon the other under the window, and +clambered up on to the topmost. By so doing he could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> easily reach with +his hand the upper pane. It was already cracked, and, cautiously +removing the broken glass, he thrust his arm through.</p> + +<p>"From here I can make a hole in the roof big enough," he called down in +a hoarse whisper. "It will take very long time to pick off the slates, +they so firm fixed. But it the only way."</p> + +<p>"Then, my dear good man, please begin at once," Enid urged him. "And +don't make more noise than you can help in dislodging the slates, or we +shall have that brute, or Mr. Nugent himself, round to stop us."</p> + +<p>So she leaned against the mouldy wall and watched the laborious task +with growing impatience, and in momentary dread lest the door should be +flung open by the "bootlace man" or his employer. For though she was +nearly certain that her companion of the grotto was a shedder of human +blood her instinct told her that to her personally the forces controlled +by Travers Nugent were far more dangerous.</p> + +<p>The work of removing the roofing seemed interminable. The interior of +the old stone building grew pitch-black before three of the slates had +been displaced and gently tossed into the herbage. A distant clock in +the town struck eight, nine, and ten and still Legros remained on his +perch, toiling, with twisted body and arm crooked through the broken +pane, in frantic endeavour to enlarge the opening.</p> + +<p>At last the clock struck eleven, and before the half-hour the Frenchman +slid nimbly to the floor.</p> + +<p>"There, ma'amselle!" he panted after his exertions. "I t'ink there room +now for you to pass<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> through. For myself I shall have to make 'im one +bit bigger. If you ready I give you what you call a 'and up."</p> + +<p>Enid prepared to mount the kegs, grateful that she was wearing a short +golfing skirt, but in no wise daunted at the prospect of crawling +through the yawning gap in the roof or of the drop to the ground on the +other side. But in the act of commencing her scramble on to the +improvised stage she paused and clutched Pierre's arm.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" she whispered. "I heard some one speaking. There are people +close by—crossing the garden."</p> + +<p>In a silence that could be felt they waited, and it was only when the +voice which had disturbed her had passed beyond hearing that Enid wished +that she had pursued quite other tactics and called out—called with the +full vigour of her lungs.</p> + +<p>For all too late she realized that the voice which had arrested her +attempted escape was the voice of her friend, Violet Maynard. She tried +to rectify her error by calling out now, but there was no response. Her +shrill cry shot skywards through the aperture towards the blinking +stars, but the thick stone walls stood between her and the ears the cry +was meant for. Violet and Travers Nugent had passed through the door on +to the moor on their way to the beach.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<h3>IN THE TOILS</h3> + + +<p>The commotion caused by Leslie Chermside's descent into the launch, and +by his unsuccessful struggle with the crew alarmed and agitated Violet. +But she was spared the full extent of the shock, not having recognized +her lover in the man who had swarmed down the steamer's side to be +ultimately stunned and overpowered. In haste to complete the task which +had brought her there, she mounted to the deck of the <i>Cobra</i> without +waiting to see the sequel of the disturbance.</p> + +<p>As she stepped on board she noticed that the ship, which had been +wrapped in complete darkness, suddenly blazed from stem to stern in the +full glow of the electric light. She was surprised at this premature +disclosure of the vessel's position, as long as it remained stationary +off the coast Leslie not being safe from arrest. But she reflected that +it did not really matter, since she hoped to prevail on him to go back +with her and face his accusers.</p> + +<p>The sudden illumination showed her the hairless features of Captain +Brant, who had come down from the bridge to meet her at the gangway. The +monkeyish limbs and curious leper-like face of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> <i>Cobra's</i> commander +filled her with a repulsion which was increased by the mocking smile and +bow of his greeting.</p> + +<p>"Miss Maynard, I believe?" he said in his thin, piping treble. "Allow me +to introduce myself as the captain of this ship, Simon Brant by name, +and very much at your service. If you will do me the honour to follow I +will conduct you to the saloon, where I think that you will find that +everything for your comfort has been——"</p> + +<p>"My comfort doesn't count, as I shall only be on the steamer a few +minutes," Violet cut him short in the rather imperious tone she +sometimes used to people she disliked. "If you will take me to Mr. +Chermside I shall hope not to delay you very long, for I am anxious to +be put on shore again at the earliest possible moment."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll see that you're put on shore again, miss, don't you make any +mistake about that. I'm on the job for no other purpose," replied Brant +with a chuckle that he made no attempt to conceal.</p> + +<p>His insolent manner caused Violet to eye him with growing indignation, +and a hot reproof trembled on her tongue. But Bully Cheeseman created a +diversion by approaching the captain and handing him a letter.</p> + +<p>"The sealed orders, I reckon; the gent gave them to me for you," said +the mate, with a cold stare at his late passenger, whose statuesque +beauty it had been too dark to appreciate on the way to the steamer in +the launch.</p> + +<p>Brant tore open the envelope, glanced through the contents, and emitted +a low whistle. "Sindkhote,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> by God!" Violet heard him mutter under his +breath, and it struck the first note of vague, uncomprehended danger. "A +long cruise that, but it's all in the day's work."</p> + +<p>Aloud he added: "Have you got that swab trussed up?"</p> + +<p>"Haven't left him room to wriggle," was Cheeseman's reply, accompanied +by an evil grin. "They're hoisting him aboard now. Where would you wish +him to be stowed?"</p> + +<p>"Is he unconscious?"</p> + +<p>"Dazed, but coming round, I reckon."</p> + +<p>"Then tell them to take him to his state-room—you know what I mean, the +one with the appliances for taming naughty boys," said the captain, +winking at his subordinate. "I'll come and read the riot act to him as +soon as I've got time. When you've fixed him up safely, sling the launch +inboard and take charge of the bridge. You know what to do, but I'll +join you as soon as I've seen to this lady. Now, madam, follow me, +please."</p> + +<p>Violet's eagerness to see her lover was so intense that in spite of the +misgivings with which Brant's manner had begun to inspire her she obeyed +his curt command. She tried to attribute his rudeness to irritation at +having had his start delayed on her account, and she told herself that +she ought to be ashamed of her vague alarm. After all the <i>Cobra</i> and +her saturnine commander were only incidents in a bad dream which would +be past in a few minutes—as soon as she should have persuaded Leslie to +return with her to Ottermouth.</p> + +<p>But, pursuant on this train of thought, the ques<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>tion occurred to her: +What had the captain meant by ordering his offensive mate to "have the +launch slung inboard?" Many happy days on her father's yacht had made +her familiar with sea terms, and she knew that the order was +incompatible with Nugent's promise that the launch should take her back +to the foot of Colebrook Chine, either with or without her lover. If it +was required for that purpose there was no reason for hoisting it +aboard.</p> + +<p>And then, just as she was hesitating how to put her question into words, +there came the terrible enlightenment. She had reached the door of the +saloon in the deck-house, and Brant, with another of his sardonic bows, +was standing aside for her to enter, when the rattle of the launch being +raised to the davits fell upon her ears, succeeded without a moment's +interval by the sharp beat of the <i>Cobra's</i> engine-room gong. The +steamer immediately began to move through the water, gathering speed +with every pulse of her powerful turbines.</p> + +<p>"What—what is this?" Violet cried, voicing her fears at last. "They +have made a mistake—have forgotten that I am not going."</p> + +<p>The apelike skipper emphasized his amusement with a cackling laugh. +"That's where you make a mistake," he said. "Because, my dear young +lady, we have been fooling about for weeks for no other purpose than to +take you a nice long sea voyage. Come, be a sensible girl and don't +quarrel with your luck. I'll explain it all in a brace of shakes."</p> + +<p>Throwing off all semblance of deference, he pushed his prisoner into the +luxurious and brilliantly lit saloon, and shutting the door, stood with +his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> back to it. Violet, perceiving that she was powerless to resent an +outrage so utterly incomprehensible, confronted him in silence, only the +cold lightnings from her eyes telling of her anger.</p> + +<p>"I like a good plucked 'un, and I can see you're that." Brant resumed in +his squeaky tones. "It'll make my job easier, and I'll lay level chalks +that by the time we part four weeks hence you'll be giving me a +testimonial for gentlemanly conduct and good seamanship. That's what the +passengers do on the big liners, and this ship will be quite as +comfortable as a mail-boat for you, miss, unless you make trouble for +yourself. You'll be telling me so when I land you at Sindkhote."</p> + +<p>"At Sindkhote?" Violet repeated faintly. The name seemed familiar, but +in her dismay at her present situation she could not remember why.</p> + +<p>"Sindkhote, in the Runn of Cutch in the East Indies," said Brant, his +base nature leading him to discern acquiescence in the calm that was +only due to bewilderment. "This yacht is the property of the Maharajah +of Sindkhote, and I, for the time being, have the honour to be his +Highness's humble servant at a thundering good wage. Mr. Nugent, who +engaged me and the whole bag of tricks, gave me to understand that you +and the Maharajah were a bit thick up in London a while back, and that +as you drew the line at matrimony, the prince was driven to extreme +measures. You ought to take it as a compliment."</p> + +<p>No further words were needed to inform Bhagwan Singh's intended victim +of the main issue of the plot against her. She saw clearly that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +enormous resources of the Maharajah, aided by Travers Nugent's subtle +scheming, had been called into play to avenge her refusal of his +preposterous offer of marriage in the conservatory of Brabazon House at +the beginning of the London season. The broad lines of the conspiracy +stood out in their grim significance, and the minor details of it did +not seem to matter. The one thing that concerned her was the part played +in it by the man who had so quickly come into her life, and to whom she +had given her love.</p> + +<p>"Where is Mr. Chermside?" she forced herself to ask.</p> + +<p>"Nursing his broken head," was the brutal reply. "You mustn't set any +store on having him for a travelling companion. He's going to make the +voyage on the silent system, in a cabin of his own. I can't have an +impetuous young lunatic like him loose on such a quiet ship as the +<i>Cobra</i>."</p> + +<p>"It was Mr. Chermside who attacked the crew of the launch just now?"</p> + +<p>"No other, but mark you, he never had the ghost of a chance. Bully +Cheeseman is equal to taking on half a dozen such shavers as that, and +with his pretty temper it's a wonder he didn't shoot. It would have +served the dirty turncoat right, but he'll get it hotter by waiting—hot +as hell on this ship, and hotter still when Bhagwan Singh gets his claws +into him, from what I hear of his Highness."</p> + +<p>It was a trait in Simon Brant's warped temperament to rejoice in the +infliction of pain, mental and physical. His brutal answer was designed +to create a distress that he could gloat over. But it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> missed its mark. +Violet received it, outwardly at least, with cold disdain.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she said, betraying no emotion save by a little catch in +her breath. "I think that I am now fully informed on all necessary +points; and I shall be obliged if you will leave me. One moment, please. +Is this the apartment I am to occupy? Where is the sleeping +accommodation?"</p> + +<p>Brant, who had hoped for the luxury of seeing a woman in tears, had +begun to open the door, but at her bidding he turned, and the chagrin in +his horrible face changed to a grudging admiration which made it +infinitely more horrible. The pose of the superb figure, the disgusted +scorn in the coolly appraising eyes, the level tones of the musical +voice, all reduced him to a temporary servility that would have been +unbearingly nauseous to a weaker character, capable of a personal +interest in the vile instrument of her persecution. But Violet Maynard, +having grasped the main facts, was able to regard Captain Simon Brant +from an entirely detached point of view.</p> + +<p>"I will send the stewardess to you, miss," he said quite humbly. "She +has been selected on purpose to be of service to you during the voyage, +and if you have any cause of complaint do not fail to let me know."</p> + +<p>He was gone at last, and if the devil ever gets his tail between his +legs his disciple followed his master's example in the going. But +Brant's subdued mood only lasted till he had shut the saloon door. He +went storming up on to the bridge, and vented some of his spleen on +Cheeseman for being half a point off his course.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> "We must keep out of +the regular steamer tracks," he growled in conclusion. "There's nothing +at sea fast enough to catch us, but the less we're sighted the better +for us afterwards."</p> + +<p>"That wench that we shipped at Weymouth has been worrying to know when +we shall be off Plymouth," said the mate.</p> + +<p>"Oh, has she?" sneered Brant. "Go and tell her to attend the lady in the +saloon, and if she asks again you can box her ears."</p> + +<p>In the meanwhile Violet had sunk down on to one of the couches in the +saloon. Though she had thoroughly taken in the meaning of all that Brant +had said to her, it was too soon to feel the full force of the blow that +had fallen. So stunning had been the shock that she would have to +recover from the shock before she would be able to contemplate the +prospect ahead in a proper sense of proportion. For the present her +thoughts were chiefly busy with her lover, and with the news of him that +had enabled her to confound Brant with such stoical calm.</p> + +<p>For the fact stood out above all others that Leslie was as much a dupe +as she was herself in the train of circumstances that had ended in their +being fellow-captives on the steamer. His desperate effort to obtain +control of the launch proved that. He had risked his life to prevent her +coming on board, instead of, as she had been falsely led to believe, +leaving the unmanly message which had lured her into the trap. Brant had +referred to him as a turncoat, but her heart kept telling her that if +he had ever been associated in the conspiracy he had been hoodwinked +into it—just as, later, Nugent had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> hoodwinked him into acting as the +unconscious decoy for her final undoing.</p> + +<p>Suddenly her reverie was interrupted by the opening and shutting of the +saloon door. Looking up, she saw a tall girl in rusty black advancing +towards her, her plain and somewhat bold face showing traces of recent +storm.</p> + +<p>"You are my female gaoler?" said Violet, rising. On such a ship engaged +on such an errand she had not expected a congenial attendant, but the +dogged firmness in this young woman's square jaw seemed to foreshadow +that present harsh treatment would be added to the terrors of the +future. Violet knew enough of human nature to be aware that the same +attitude which would quell the loose tongue of a man like Brant would +only goad a bully of her own sex to grosser indignities.</p> + +<p>The reply which she received came, therefore, as a welcome surprise.</p> + +<p>"No, madam, I am not your gaoler, but I will be your friend if you will +let me be," said Miss Jimpson, her clenched lips relaxing into a +reassuring smile that changed her into a kindly woman with all the magic +of a transformation scene. "I was trapped on to this villainous ship +only this morning—same as you were to-night. I'm just as keen to get +off it as you can be."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3>THE LAST CHANCE FAILS</h3> + + +<p>The daughter of the millionaire and the draper's assistant stood eyeing +each other for twenty seconds in growing mutual approval, and then the +hearty ring of Miss Nettle Jimpson's rather powerful voice prevailed. +Their hands met in a grasp that at once testified to true comradeship +and to sympathy for the other's plight. Violet would have drawn the +other down on to the couch beside her, but Miss Jimpson, with a glance +at the door, resisted the friendly invitation.</p> + +<p>"Better not," she said in her matter-of-fact way. "One of those beasts +might take it into his head to come in at any minute, and it won't do +for them to think that we're going to be thick together. I've just given +one of them a smack in the face that will last him quite a while, but it +wasn't exactly judicious. They know I'm not fond of them, but my cue +isn't open rebellion till I'm driven to it."</p> + +<p>So Miss Jimpson remained standing while at Violet's request she +recounted the story of her enforced enlistment, and of all that had +happened on the <i>Cobra</i> since. She waxed humorous at her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> own expense +over the inducement held out by Brant to pacify her—that she was to act +as companion to a lady passenger; and she described her subsequent +surmise that she was to assist at an elopement. Again she went on to +relate how Leslie Chermside had shattered that latest theory, first in +words and secondly by wild dismay on hearing Violet's voice in the +launch alongside.</p> + +<p>"I knew then that he might be your sweetheart, but that he certainly +wasn't on board the <i>Cobra</i> to run away with you," said Nettle simply. +"He was like a crazy creature in his wish to stop you from coming +aboard. He expected to be killed in the attempt, and he begged me to +stand by you if he failed to get the better of the men in the launch."</p> + +<p>Violet's eyes were moist with unshed tears. "You have been frank with +me, and I will be frank with you," she said. "Mr. Chermside is my lover, +and the people who are employing Brant in this cruel business induced +him by a series of lying tricks to fly on the steamer from a charge of +murder. They hoped, as has happened, that I should follow to dissuade +him."</p> + +<p>"The charge is trumped up, of course?" said Nettle, and it was rather an +assertion than a question.</p> + +<p>"He might have some difficulty in disproving it, the train was laid with +such fiendish ingenuity," answered Violet gravely.</p> + +<p>"That is rough luck. Then if he escaped from the ship to land he would +be arrested and have to stand his trial?" And there was that in Miss +Jimp<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>son's voice that suggested that she was weighing chances with some +definite idea at the back of her active brain.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid so, but his arrest would be infinitely preferable to the +fate destined for him if he does not escape," replied Violet. There was +a little eager note of inquiry in her voice, for she had been quick to +grasp the hesitation in her new friend's tone.</p> + +<p>But, ignoring the challenge, Miss Jimpson refused to be drawn at +present. "Tell me," she said—"that is if you care to—why Brant has +been bribed to do this dirty work, and where the ship is bound for."</p> + +<p>Wisely abstaining from forcing her ally's hand, Violet disclosed in such +halting sentences as her pride would permit the object of the cunning +intrigue that had centred round her. Nettle Jimpson's fearless eyes grew +rounder and rounder as she listened to the crop of mischief sown by the +Maharajah of Sindkhote 5,000 miles away to ripen in a quiet English +village. And not being the direct object of the villainous outrage, she +appreciated more fully than Violet was yet able to the ghastly tragedy +looming ahead at the end of the <i>Cobra's</i> voyage.</p> + +<p>"There's one chance," she said when the story of the Eastern Prince's +passion, aided by a western rascal's guile, came to an end. "Only a +little one, but still a chance. On condition that I didn't play the +giddy goat over being kidnapped Brant promised to put into Plymouth on +the way down channel, so that I could send a letter ashore for my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> young +man. He's a petty officer on the destroyer <i>Snipe</i>."</p> + +<p>"The <i>Snipe</i>!" repeated Violet. The name struck her at once as familiar, +and a moment later she remembered why. It had been ever on the +impertinent lips of Enid Mallory as that of the diminutive warship +commanded by her own particular naval hero, Reggie Beauchamp.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nettle, "the <i>Snipe</i> is attached to the torpedo flotilla +there. If I could communicate your position to Ned he'd tell his +commander, and something would surely be done to stop this steamer +before she reaches her destination. It's a far cry to India, and the +authorities would set the cables to work. It would go hard with us if +the <i>Cobra</i> wasn't snapped up by a man-of-war somewhere betwixt this and +there."</p> + +<p>Violet shook her head. "That promise was made to be broken," she smiled +sadly. "I fear Brant would never incur such a risk as that."</p> + +<p>"If he doesn't this is going to be a hot ship," rejoined Nettle with +spirit. "But you are very likely right," she added after a pause. "When +I asked the mate Cheeseman when we should be off Plymouth he tried to +box my ears—by the captain's orders, he said. That was why I smacked +his face."</p> + +<p>Suddenly Violet rose and began pacing the saloon. "Oh, but I have been +selfishly thinking of myself!" she cried. "I heard that brute say that +Leslie—Mr. Chermside—was only stunned and that he was coming to, but +for all that he may be badly injured and in pain. Can you find out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> for +me, you dear kind girl? Not if it will entail insult or ill-treatment +for you, though."</p> + +<p>"I'll chance that," replied Nettle firmly. "They carried him down on to +the lower deck somewhere, and I'll go and see. But I am forgetting my +duties. I was to show you your sleeping cabin. It's next door to this."</p> + +<p>Violet waved her away. "As if I could sleep," she protested with a +petulance which she instantly regretted.</p> + +<p>Nettle, with a large-hearted tolerance for her companion's over-wrought +condition, nodded and went out on to the upper deck. The steamer was +gliding through the calm water at half-speed, having reached the fishing +grounds of the Brixham trawlers off Berry Head. The sturdy little craft +were clustered thick as ants on either beam. It was necessary to thread +a cautious track through them if an untimely collision was not to +furnish a clue to Violet's disappearance as soon as it was discovered in +the morning. Nugent's "sealed orders" had been explicit on this head, +and Simon Brant was not the man to risk punishment and the loss of his +huge reward for lack of attention to detail.</p> + +<p>"The inference at Ottermouth when Miss Maynard is missed will be that +she has voluntarily accompanied Chermside on his flight," these +instructions run. "On the whole it will serve our purpose as well as +another, but it is imperative that the direction of this flight be +unknown. I have Mr. Maynard's confidence, and I shall do my best to +foster the idea that Chermside, whom he will of course regard as a free +agent, will be likely to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> for America, blinding pursuit by taking +an eastern course up channel, and then a northerly one round the +Scottish coast into the Atlantic. In reality you will run down channel +to the westward, and in doing so you must therefore avoid undue speed or +anything that may draw attention to your vessel as the one in which the +'elopement' has been carried out."</p> + +<p>Nettle Jimpson, knowing nothing about the reason, was nevertheless +annoyed at the slow speed, because it would delay the "one chance" at +Plymouth to which she had pinned her faith. But realizing that the delay +was beyond her control, she devoted herself to the matter in hand.</p> + +<p>Casting an upward glance at the bridge, where the quartermaster at the +wheel and several other figures were dimly visible against the starlit +sky, she skulked along in the shadows of the deck superstructure till +she came to the companion stairs leading down to the main deck. It was +but a short distance from the door of the saloon and she met no one, +though both from the stern and the forecastle gruff whisperings told her +that it was a wakeful ship. Stealing down the stairs, she reached the +main deck unmolested, and looked about her. Evidently it was here that +the officers and the engineers were berthed. Open cabin doors yielded +glimpses of oilskin coats and tarpaulin hats, while a well-scrubbed +table in the centre of the open space was spread with the remains of a +meal that had been partaken of by half a dozen people.</p> + +<p>But of the prisoner, or of any closed door behind which he could be +confined, there was no sign.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> She continued to explore, and at the +forward end of the deck found an open hatchway with a flight of almost +perpendicular wooden steps running down into the pitch darkness of the +lower deck. Undaunted by the steepness of the ladder and the absence of +light, she descended into the abyss, where the smell of paint and +cordage told her that she was near the ship's storeroom. Realizing at +once that down here her eyes were useless for the quest, she raised her +voice and called——</p> + +<p>"Where are you, Mr. Chermside?"</p> + +<p>Nothing but silence followed, and emboldened by the fact that none of +the <i>Cobra's</i> ruffian crew seemed to be on the lower deck, she called +louder still, and this time she got an answer—an inarticulate +utterance, half-sigh and half-groan, from out of the inky blackness. +Picking her way towards it, her groping hands encountered the blank +space of an open door.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Chermside, are you in there?" she asked, excitement rather than +fear of being overheard causing her to drop her voice to a whisper.</p> + +<p>Again that curious sound but no informing reply, and Nettle crept into +the cabin. She had penetrated but a few feet when she stumbled over +something, and, stooping down, she felt a soft substance which her sense +of touch informed her was the body of a man. The next instant she gave +vent to a cry of horror when her searching hands came into contact with +a steel chain which her busy fingers quickly traced to a metal circlet +grasping a man's leg.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Chermside!" she scarcely breathed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> "Give me water," came the faint +response from the unseen.</p> + +<p>Nettle Jimpson's presence of mind, which had never really left her, +reasserted itself in full force. "Shan't be a moment," she said, and +whisking out of the cabin, retraced her steps as best she could to the +ladder, climbed to the main-deck, and seized a jug of water from the +table where the ship's officers had supped. She looked around for a +portable lamp or candle, but this deck, like the rest of the vessel, was +electrically lit, and she had abandoned the hope of providing herself +with a light, when she espied a box of wax matches among a heap of +tobacco ashes on a plate.</p> + +<p>A minute later she was down on the lower deck again, holding the jug to +Leslie's parched lips, and by the tiny flare of one of the matches +examining the dungeon which Brant's malevolent spite had devised for his +prisoner. Leslie was lying on a plank bench, securely chained from the +ankles to an iron ring firmly set in the stanchion over his head. His +face was covered with blood, and he was white with the loss of it, +though he revived fast when he had drained the water. By the time Nettle +had lit her third match she had assured herself that his injuries were +not dangerous, though she was equally convinced that to release him from +his cruel durance was beyond her powers.</p> + +<p>"Miss Maynard—they have not harmed her?" gasped Leslie, as soon as he +could speak.</p> + +<p>His ministering angel hastened to reassure him, exaggerating sturdily in +a good cause. "She's treated like a queen, with every deference and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> +respect," said the girl, as she eased his cramped position. "Of course, +she's worried about you. But see here, Mr. Chermside, we've no time for +talking. I must get back to the saloon without being caught if I'm to be +of any use. There are only us two women to stand between you and these +fiends, and there's only God Almighty to stand between us and—the end +of the voyage. There's a bare chance that we may be able to send word +into Plymouth, if I can fool or browbeat the captain, and I must be on +hand to run that chance for all it's worth. You understand that I can't +stay here with you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, go at once," murmured the injured man. "Never mind me, but for +heaven's sake do what you can for her. Above all, let me beg of you not +to harrow her with a description of all this."</p> + +<p>The clank of the chain was eloquent of what he meant, and, promising to +observe his wishes, Nettle withdrew. She regained the saloon after her +adventure without meeting any one, and to Violet's eager questions she +gave the evasively truthful answer that Leslie was recovering from his +injuries, but that he was kept a close prisoner on the lower deck, and +that she had had to converse with him without seeing him, leaving it to +be inferred that she had not entered his cabin. By this means she +avoided imparting the gruesome details of the <i>Cobra's</i> "black hole."</p> + +<p>Violet steadily refused to retire to the sleeping cabin prepared for +her, and the two girls spent what remained of the hours of darkness in +the saloon together. In the grey of dawn Nettle went out on to the upper +deck, self-possessed as usual, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> despondent of success in the task +before her. Brant was on the bridge, stumping to and fro to keep himself +warm, for there was a chilly nip in the breeze that had sprung up during +the night. The little atomy of a skipper seemed in an ominously genial +mood, for at sight of Miss Jimpson's fluttering garments he leaned over +the bridge-rail and hailed her.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, my Weymouth linen-tearer!" he called down. "Shaking into your +job nicely, eh? How's her Royal Highness the Maharanee of Sindkhote this +morning? I've no doubt that she's confided in you about her brilliant +destiny. The day will come when she will look on Simon Brant as a sort +of fairy godfather."</p> + +<p>Nettle looked round warily. Land was visible on the starboard beam, but +so far off that its contour could not be distinguished in the blue haze +that preceded sunrise. The distance between the coastline and the +steamer, which was now running at full speed, was hardly compatible with +an intention to make for an English port. Miss Nettle's Sunday walks and +talks with a sailor sweetheart had given her a smattering of sea-lore, +and she did not like the look of it. But she was there to assert +herself, and did not mean to haul down her colours without striking a +blow.</p> + +<p>"Drat you for a fairy godfather—you and your Maharanees!" she +exclaimed, with a well-feigned indifference to the larger issue, "It's +me and my young man I'm thinking about. When do you run into Plymouth, +so that I can send my letter?"</p> + +<p>"Is it written?" Brant grinned down at her.</p> + +<p>"That won't take five minutes. It will be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> ready long before you can put +me within reach of a post office."</p> + +<p>Brant grinned again as he followed the direction of her gesture towards +the distant land.</p> + +<p>"Then don't trouble to write it," he croaked. "I admire your cheek so +that I'd break orders for you if I could. But there's five thousand +pounds to it, my dear, and the <i>Cobra</i> isn't going to call at Plymouth +or any other port till we dump our cargo. If you want a young man, I've +no doubt you can be accommodated on board, or if there's none here to +your fancy, perhaps the lady will fix you up with a blacky husband in +India."</p> + +<p>Miss Jimpson's eyes glinted. "Is that your last word?" she said.</p> + +<p>"As to calling at Plymouth? Yes, it's my very last word; and now you can +start abusing me. I rather like it," came down the captain's shrill +treble. And he added maliciously, "We passed the opening of Plymouth +Sound an hour ago if it's any use to you to know it."</p> + +<p>The girl turned on her heel without further waste of breath. She had +never in her heart relied on the miscreant's promise, but she had clung +to it as the last chance. And now their last chance had failed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> +<h3>ENID IS "MIXED UP"</h3> + + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Mallory were too accustomed to their daughter's +erratic habits to be perturbed by her non-appearance at the +dinner-table. It came natural to them to account for her absence by an +invitation, given and accepted on the spur of the moment, to spend an +informal evening at the house of some friend, and they would be quite +satisfied if she turned up any time before midnight.</p> + +<p>It was Mr. Mallory's practice on three evenings of the week to go down +to the club after dinner to enjoy a little bridge or whist with some of +his cronies, and this being one of the appointed nights he sallied forth +about nine o'clock without giving Enid a second thought. If he had known +that she was shut up in Travers Nugent's grotto, his opponents at the +card-table would have had reason to rejoice; for, always a sound player, +he was more than usually deadly that evening.</p> + +<p>On going downstairs at the conclusion of the play, he came upon the +lantern-jawed Mr. Lazarus Lowch, the foreman of the adjourned inquest. +Mr. Lowch was seldom to be found at the club so late, and he was mooning +about the ante-room with an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> abstracted air which promptly changed to +purposeful alertness at sight of Mr. Mallory. A less shrewd observer +than the old servant of the Foreign Office would have seen that he was +the object of this unwonted visitation.</p> + +<p>"I should be glad if you could spare me a few minutes, Mallory," said +Lowch, in his funereal tones. "It is rather important and in a way +personal to yourself. We are on the eve of some striking developments in +this murder case, I think."</p> + +<p>In common with most of his fellow-members, Mr. Mallory had no great +liking for the dismal Lazarus, but, like the old war-horse he was, he +pricked up his ears at the reason for the desired interview.</p> + +<p>Glancing into the reading-room, he saw that it was unoccupied. "Come in +here," he said shortly. "There is no one to overhear us."</p> + +<p>"Your mention of overhearing brings me at once to what I want to say," +Mr. Lowch proceeded ponderously. "The other day, in this very club, I +overheard the most astonishing confirmation——"</p> + +<p>"I know. I saw you listening on the stairs when Nugent and Chermside +were together in the card-room," Mr. Mallory could not resist the +interruption. "Incidentally, you led me into a bit of eavesdropping too, +for when I was at pains to inform myself who it was who was so engrossed +in that conversation, I couldn't help hearing a few words of what was +interesting you."</p> + +<p>The sarcasm fell quite flat on Mr. Lazarus Lowch. His hide was as that +of a rhinoceros to any such delicate irony. He was one of those who +think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> that the end justifies the means, provided that the end in +question entails the discomfort or disparagement of some unfortunate +fellow-creature.</p> + +<p>"Then if you heard it too, it will simplify my task," he went on +serenely. "Mr. Mallory, it will be my duty at the adjourned inquiry to +let daylight into the coroner about that fellow Chermside. He is the +murderer, as sure as we stand here, and Nugent is shielding him because +he wishes to avoid incurring the odium of having introduced a scoundrel +into this peaceful spot."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory could not entirely control the disgust which crept into his +face at this open avowal of petty spite. But he was old diplomatist +enough to control his voice. "That is not my view of the case," he said, +with frigid politeness. And then, as if stung by a scorpion, he for an +instant lost the grip in which he was holding himself, and added +quickly, "But why am I the recipient of your—what shall I call +it—confession? What have your spyings and deductions to do with me more +than another?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Lowch essayed to impart to his saturnine features an expression of +sympathetic concern, and made a failure of the job. Indeed, the facial +antics in which he indulged rather suggested the anticipation of +malevolent triumph. "You surely, my dear sir, have not forgotten the +first sitting of the inquest, and the evidence given thereat by +Lieutenant Beauchamp?" he said, trying to adopt an ingratiating tone, +but only succeeding in croaking like a raven.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory guessed what he was making for,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> but declined to provide the +opening. "Well?" was all he said.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Beauchamp admitted that on the night of the murder he was on the +marsh, close to where the body of Levison was found—at least, I +elicited as much from him," said Lowch, warming to his work.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" snapped Mr. Mallory, still refusing to be helpful.</p> + +<p>"And that he heard a strange cry?"</p> + +<p>"So I understood."</p> + +<p>"Leaving an impression on the mind of the jury that he knew more of the +occurrence than he chose to tell?"</p> + +<p>"Not having been on the jury, it is impossible for me to answer that," +Mr. Mallory rejoined drily.</p> + +<p>Lazarus Lowch bowed slightly as though willing to make the concession, +but conscious of his magnanimity in doing so. "Now Mr. Mallory," he went +on, clearing his throat as a prelude to the real issue, "I do not mean +any offence, but I am more or less in an official position in this +inquiry. Mr. Beauchamp had a companion on that evening, and though the +name did not transpire in court, it is common knowledge who that +companion was. Gossip may be pernicious, but in a place like this it +does not err. It will not be denied, I think, that it was your daughter, +Miss Enid Mallory, who accompanied Lieutenant Beauchamp on that evening +walk?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory contrived to keep the curb on himself. He was very angry, +but he wanted to know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> what was coming. Evidently this fatuous busybody +had not yet sprung the full force of the tremendous battery with which +he believed himself armed.</p> + +<p>"There is no need for any mystery," Mr. Mallory replied suavely. "Enid +and Reggie Beauchamp are engaged to be married. I am aware that they +were together that evening, and with my entire sanction—if that is what +you are driving at."</p> + +<p>Mr. Lazarus shook his head, as one who is misjudged. "Really, no," came +his protesting croak. "I should be the last to impute that kind of +secrecy to Miss Mallory. On the contrary, I am sure that she would be +quite open about anything of that sort. Nor would it be my business if +she wasn't."</p> + +<p>"Well, look here, Lowch. What the devil is it that she hasn't been open +about that is your business?" exclaimed Enid's father, losing patience +at last. "You have got something up your sleeve, I can see. Would it not +be better to pull it down and have done with it? But I warn you first +that you must be careful how you handle my daughter's good name."</p> + +<p>The chronic scowl that made little children run when the local kill-joy +approached lifted at the prospect of striking a blow beneath the belt. +Lowch even smiled in sickly fashion as he struck it.</p> + +<p>"I was on the golf links this afternoon," he began his indictment, "and +I happened to see Miss Enid leave at the end of her round, as I thought, +for home. Instead of accompanying her friends, however, she parted from +them outside the pavilion, and went away alone in the opposite +direction. In<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> fact, entirely in the interests of justice, I watched +her——"</p> + +<p>"Where from?" came the knife-like interruption.</p> + +<p>"From behind a gorse-bush," was the unblushing rejoinder. "She went into +Mr. Travers Nugent's garden door, which, as you know, abuts on the moor. +In a little while she was followed by a disreputable-looking man, who +also disappeared into Nugent's garden. He, too, had been taking +advantage of a convenient gorse-bush. The deduction is obvious. Nugent +and his friend Chermside are deeply implicated in the murder which I am +officially investigating, and—er—it looks very much as if Miss Enid, +innocently perhaps, is mixed up in it too."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory's clean-shaven, ascetic face had gone as white as snow. The +absence from dinner took on a new complexion by the light of this +misbegotten information that she had ventured into the danger zone, and +had been shadowed into it by one of its dangerous master's creatures. +But the old man's sudden pallor was due as much to the contemptuous rage +that overmastered him as to fear for his only child.</p> + +<p>"You amazing idiot!" he cried. "Why couldn't you have told me the bare +fact of my daughter having been to The Hut at first, without your string +of silly insinuations? The delay may mean—but there, words are wasted +on such as you——"</p> + +<p>He turned to hurry from the room, and there in the doorway, where she +had stood for the last half-minute, in defiance of the most stringent +rule of the club, was the pretty subject of his anxiety, her +sun-browned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> cheeks all seamed with bramble scratches, her corona of +golden hair tumbling over her shoulders, her golf skirt in tatters.</p> + +<p>"Don't look so scared, father," she said. "I'm all right. But that +person has hit the correct nail about my being very mixed up in it, and +you must come away at once, please. I have a lot to tell you."</p> + +<p>Ignoring the incoherences of the inquisitive Lazarus, whom they left +babbling his willingness to overlook the infraction of the rule against +the admission of ladies if they would only have their say out there, +father and daughter passed out of the club into the quiet and deserted +street. Alive to the value of every second, Enid condensed the narrative +of her experience in the grotto into a few words, but she missed no +vital point, from her imprisonment by "The Bootlace Man" to her escape +twenty minutes ago by the aid of her fellow-prisoner, the French +onion-seller. Nor did she omit to repeat the fantastic notions held by +Pierre Legros, and the final mystery of Violet Maynard's voice being +heard in the garden so late at night.</p> + +<p>In his absorption in the momentous tale, Mr. Mallory came to a halt +under a street lamp, for they had intuitively turned their steps up the +hill homewards. Enid saw the dawn of a great fear in the well-chiselled +features she knew so well. But she would not have abstained from slang +on the Judgment Day.</p> + +<p>"What is it, dad," she said, laying a grimy paw on the sleeve of her +father's dinner jacket. "Have I enabled you to spot the winner?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> "This +is what I make of it on a rough calculation," Mr. Mallory replied. "The +Frenchman's suspicions as to Nugent taking Louise Aubin away on a +steamer are, of course, all moonshine. It is Violet Maynard who is being +decoyed on to the steamer, with Chermside and the murder of that +miserable Jew as items in a nice little plot of Nugent's. I have had +inquiries made in London lately, and I find that he was thick with that +Indian prince whose name was coupled with Violet's in the society rags. +I know Bhagwan Singh for an arrogant and pitiless libertine, Enid. That +steamer is bound for India."</p> + +<p>The old man and the girl stared at each other, comprehending the tragedy +in all its naked horror.</p> + +<p>"How long ago was it that you heard Miss Maynard passing through the +grounds of The Hut on her way to the beach?" Mr. Mallory asked, breaking +the strained silence.</p> + +<p>"It must have been more than half an hour. I got out through the roof of +the grotto almost immediately afterwards; then I went home, and, finding +you out, ran down to the club as hard as I could," Enid replied. Then, +glancing up at her father's stern, set face, she said abruptly——</p> + +<p>"What time does the telephone exchange close?"</p> + +<p>"Hours ago—at eight o'clock, and it's now nearly midnight," replied Mr. +Mallory, looking at her as if she had gone daft.</p> + +<p>"But if we made it all right with the exchange people we could get the +wire, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"If you could persuade or bribe them—certainly," said Mr. Mallory, with +a touch of impatience. "But what good would it do? You cannot tele<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>phone +to any one who can prevent Miss Maynard from going on board a steamer +which, by your own showing, must have been reached by her long ago."</p> + +<p>Enid linked her arm in her father's and began dragging him to the shop +where the exchange was worked. "Come along and see," she exclaimed +excitedly. "The worst of you clever people is that you never give any +one else credit for a gleam of intelligence."</p> + +<p>A couple of minutes later they had rung the bell at the private door of +the shop, and were parleying with a sleepy individual at an upper +window, who was at last induced to come down and open to them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<h3>PURSUIT</h3> + + +<p>Lieutenant Reginald Beauchamp had been dining at the officers' mess of +the Royal Naval Barracks at Devonport, and was making his way back to +the dockyard, where he expected to find his boat's crew ready to put him +aboard what Enid irreverently called his floating sardine-box. The +<i>Snipe</i> was anchored in the Hamoaze, not far from the docks for the +convenience of victualling.</p> + +<p>Reggie, being a youth of convivial but temperate habits had dined +wisely, to the extent of feeling at peace with all the world. The fine +digestive powers of eight-and-twenty had served to assimilate the +excellent fare provided by his hosts; he had enjoyed the society of many +old comrades, whose pockets he had afterwards lightened at snooker pool; +and the few glasses of wine he had drunk had done him no greater harm +than to render him, out here under the stars, mildly sentimental about +his little girl at Ottermouth.</p> + +<p>"A rattling good sort, Enid, and no flies on her for a young 'un," he +summed up his mental recapitulation of his sweetheart's virtues. "But if +she tries to boss me afloat as well as ashore the little witch will have +to look out for squalls, that's all."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p> + +<p>As he passed through the dock gates his musings were suddenly but +respectfully broken into by the police-constable who admitted him. +Reggie was the kind of officer who is known by sight, and was remembered +even by those who had but little to do with him.</p> + +<p>"You're wanted on the telephone, sir," said the man, leading the way +into the gate-house. "Sounds like a lady. Been holding the wire and +ringing up every two minutes for the last half-hour."</p> + +<p>Needless to say that there is an all-night telephonic service into his +Majesty's dockyards, and for the commander of a "destroyer" to be rung +up at any hour was nothing out of the common. All sorts of official +instructions fly about irrespective of the sun's position in the +heavens. Port admirals never go to bed, or if they do they leave some +wakeful person to harass their subordinates with ill-timed change of +orders. But a lady on the telephone at 12.30 at night was a novel +experience, considering that the common or garden species has not access +to telephonic communication in the small hours. It must be the port +admiral's wife, Reggie told himself, doing her lord and master's dirty +work for want of an available secretary.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" he asked, when he had been shown to the instrument, and had +made his presence known to the other end.</p> + +<p>The reply, which was also in the form of a question, fairly staggered +him, "Is that you, Reggie? It's me, Enid. Yes, you old silly—Enid +Mallory at Ottermouth. The most awful thing has happened, and I want +your help. You are the only person in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> whole world who can help. Are +you listening? Are you ready to attend to every word I say?"</p> + +<p>"Go ahead!" was Reggie's laconic reply, the flippant gibe that rose to +the tip of his tongue checked by the reflection that the Ottermouth +exchange was not ordinarily open at that time of night. Allowing for +Enid's fondness for exaggerated phrasing, there must be some foundation +for the "something awful," or she would not have been able to get +through to him on the telephone.</p> + +<p>And when at last he took up his own parable and spoke his answer into +the transmitter he knew that there had been no exaggeration at all, and +that had she been so minded his saucy sweetheart might have used more +lurid language without going astray. So impressed was he by what he had +heard that he condensed his reply into the crisp sentences——</p> + +<p>"What infernal scoundrels! All right, girlie; I'll do it if they break +me. Off at once. Good night!"</p> + +<p>Hanging up the receiver, and thanking the janitor of the gate, he +threaded his way along the deserted quays to the stairs, where his boat +was waiting for him.</p> + +<p>"By George, but it's a tall order!" he repeated several times as his +bluejackets bent to their oars. "Just as I'd settled it, too, that she +should never interfere in professional duties. But, damme, it's a good +cause to go down in, and perhaps old Maynard will buy me a penny +steamboat if I get the sack over the job."</p> + +<p>It was, indeed, a "tall order," coming from a minx in her teens to a +naval officer enjoying his first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> independent command, being no less +than to employ one of his Majesty's ships on a private enterprise. An +enterprise, too, which an ingenious counsel, before a judge of less than +average intelligence, might very easily contort and twist into an act of +piracy. None knew better than Reggie Beauchamp that for one ship to stop +another on the high seas, and do things to her by armed force unbacked +by supreme authority was a serious matter indeed.</p> + +<p>And yet that was the task which the sunny-haired maiden, with eager red +lips to the telephone at the other end of the county, had set him. So +graphically had Enid done her bit of descriptive 'phoning that he was +under no illusions as to what he had to do. Violet Maynard had been +"carried off" in a large steam yacht which had just started from +Ottermouth for India. In a few hours' time at most the yacht would be +off Plymouth. Enid was aware that the <i>Snipe</i> was leaving port very +early every morning for gun practice, and she implored him and +threatened him in the same breath to intercept the yacht and rescue Miss +Maynard. The few words which Enid had added as to the fate in store for +the victim of the outrage had decided Reggie to make the attempt, even +at the hazard of his career.</p> + +<p>But he was by no means assured that he would succeed. The whole vile +scheme must have been planned with deadly deliberation, and with the +resources of vast wealth behind it. The vessel chosen for such a lawless +errand would certainly be of high speed, and would avoid the regular +steamer tracks. The little <i>Snipe</i>, for all her thirty-knot engines, +might well be outpaced by the craft<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> bought or chartered by Bhagwan +Singh's agent; but before he could put that vital question to the test +he would have to find her—no easy matter in the crowded waters of the +Channel, when he had no description of her to guide him, and he was +entirely in the dark as to the course she would steer.</p> + +<p>But in all things pertaining to his profession the young commander was +astute beyond his years, and, having once decided to treat the +Maharajah's yacht as a hostile ship, he made his calculations as +thoroughly as if his promotion depended on stopping her. As soon as he +stepped aboard his destroyer he routed out of their bunks the two men on +whose co-operation he would have to rely, one being the only other +commissioned officer, Second-Lieutenant Ellison, and the other the petty +officer who was acting as gunner, a smart young fellow by name Parsons.</p> + +<p>Having tersely explained to them the situation, and at greater length +demonstrated that his would be the sole responsibility for what he +proposed to do, he succeeded in rousing their enthusiasm, and from that +moment he was loyally served by both. The three promptly constituted +themselves a council of war in the poky little mess-room, and Ned +Parsons was ready with some valuable advice.</p> + +<p>"You'll pardon me, sir," he said with a friendly grin, "but if it was my +girl instead of yours who was on that yacht I shouldn't fumble for my +tactics—not for a single minute."</p> + +<p>"It isn't my girl—only a friend of my girl," Reggie corrected him. "But +no matter as to that. What would the tactics be, Parsons? You were +always a helpful chap."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, you see, sir, I'm thinking, as every man on the ship will be, how +to get you out of this without blame," replied the acting gunner. "I +don't know the lady that these blackguards are making off with, but if +it was my Nettle there'd be only one way to it. I'd lay the <i>Snipe</i> as +close as may be to the yacht and trust the girl to do the rest. She'd +holler for help, or clout the helmsman over the head, or do something +that would justify us in interfering, and in asking questions +afterwards. But there! she's a fair cough-drop, though only a draper's +assistant at Weymouth."</p> + +<p>Reggie had to smile in the midst of his dilemma. The idea of the stately +Violet Maynard "clouting the helmsman," or even "hollering for help," +was not to be imagined. Still, the notion of getting as close as +possible to the yacht and trusting to some stroke of good fortune making +it unnecessary to fire on her was a good one. Enid had mentioned on the +telephone that by some inexplicable means Leslie Chermside was also on +the steamer, and Reggie was as good a judge of men as he was a sailor. +That there was some mystery about the reserved young soldier he was +shrewdly convinced, but he did not think that his presence on the +fugitive yacht was due to collusion with the enemies of the girl he was +popularly believed to be in love with. Chermside, he argued, might be +trusted, given the chance, to fill the part which would have fallen to +Ned Parsons' "cough drop," if she had been on board.</p> + +<p>"Very well," he said. "We will start as passive resisters anyway, and +trust to luck afterwards. Now as to the course this steamer is likely to +steer. She will want to keep clear of vessels bound for Plymouth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> which +might report a craft making down Channel at high speed. For that reason +she would leave the Eddystone well to the northward, and she won't +travel more than ordinarily fast at first. That being so, if we up +anchor at once and choose the sea beyond the Eddystone for our firing +practice this morning we ought to sight her before she has slipped away +to the westward."</p> + +<p>The necessary orders were given, and, the rumour spreading through the +ship that some unorthodox adventure was afoot, the crew achieved a +record in getting under weigh. In less than twenty minutes from the time +of Reggie coming aboard the <i>Snipe</i> was steaming down past Drake's +Island on to the broad bosom of Plymouth Sound, and so to the open sea. +There were still three hours to daylight, and Reggie's intention was to +utilize them in reaching the spot where his judgment told him he would +stand the best chance of intercepting the runaway.</p> + +<p>The break of dawn found the destroyer patrolling the sea some ten miles +south-west of the great lighthouse, in the comparatively lonely stretch +of water that lies between the track of vessels making for Plymouth and +the route of those whose destination is further to the eastward. In the +immediate vicinity were only a few trawlers finishing the harvest of the +night, but away to the north and south faint smears of vapour on the +skyline showed the main lines of the Channel traffic.</p> + +<p>And then, suddenly, from his place in the miniature conning-tower Reggie +saw a great blur of black smoke crossing the southern edge of the vacuum +he had selected for his hunting-ground. His binocu<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>lars flew to his +eyes, and intuitively he knew that, though he had been right in his main +conjecture, he had made a slight miscalculation of distance. The cause +of the smoke-blur, magnified by his powerful lenses into a graceful +steamer running southward at a high rate of speed, was neither a +man-of-war or a liner, but a huge yacht—just such a one as would have +been selected for a long ocean voyage. And a cry of chagrin escaped him +as he perceived that he had not taken the <i>Snipe</i> far enough out to stop +her. She had in fact already passed him, and was now between him and the +mouth of the Channel, thus being nearer to the open door of the trap he +would have closed than he was.</p> + +<p>"What's her speed?" he asked, passing the glasses to his +second-lieutenant. "I put it at about twenty-five."</p> + +<p>The other, after a careful scrutiny of the receding vessel, gave it as +his opinion that twenty knots was nearer the mark. Anyway, bar fog, the +<i>Snipe</i>, with her thirty-knot engines, ought to be able to catch her in +something under five hours.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if she is doing her best now," said Reggie doubtfully. "She may be +keeping a bit up her sleeve for an emergency. But we'll shove this old +hooker along at her top notch anyhow."</p> + +<p>So, with disrespect, do the boys to whom the nation entrusts its +mosquito fleet speak of the little spitfires they love—a disrespect +which they would swiftly and haughtily resent if it was evinced by any +but themselves.</p> + +<p>A word to the man at the wheel caused the <i>Snipe's</i> ugly snout to swing +round for her quarry, and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> the engine-room gong clanged its sharp +command, "Full speed ahead." Reggie, with his eyes glued to his glasses, +watched like a cat for any increase of speed or suggestive manœuvre +on the part of the chase, but she held on her way as if supremely +indifferent to, or unconscious of, the fact that she was being pursued +by the destroyer.</p> + +<p>"She's slowing down a trifle, isn't she, sir?" Parsons called up to his +chief after the pursuit had lasted twenty minutes or so. "That doesn't +look as if she had a guilty conscience."</p> + +<p>Reggie was of the same opinion on both points. The yacht certainly was +not travelling so fast as when first sighted, and her slackened speed +suggested that her commander had no reason for showing his heels to a +navy ship—was, perhaps, moved by curiosity to learn why the spiteful +little man-of-war was tearing after him. Whatever the cause might be the +result was that in less than an hour the <i>Snipe's</i> lean black hull was +within a mile of the yacht, and that objects on the deck of the latter +were plainly distinguishable by the aid of Reggie's binoculars.</p> + +<p>"By Jove!" he exclaimed, "there's a woman on board right enough—about +Miss Maynard's height, too. And, good God! she's waving to us like blue +murder. But no, her face gets clearer every second—no, it isn't the +lady we're after."</p> + +<p>"We shall soon know what's wrong," said the second-lieutenant. "The +yacht has pretty nearly stopped. She's only keeping enough way on her +for steerage."</p> + +<p>The acting-gunner, Ned Parsons, who had also<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> been examining the +mysterious vessel through his own pair of cheap inferior glasses, here +uttered an exclamation of combined incredulity and dismay.</p> + +<p>"If you'd be so good, sir, as to let me have a squint through those +binos of yours," he said, "I might be able to tell you something."</p> + +<p>Reggie handed over his own splendid pair, the last word in telescopic +art and a present from his mother. They had hardly bridged Parson's +sun-browned nose when they were lowered again, and the gunner turned a +face full of whimsical concern upon his commander.</p> + +<p>"Asking your pardon, sir, but it's a funny thing," he said, "but that +gal behaving like a semaphore yonder is my young lady—the one I was +telling you of, seeing as there have been others—Miss Nettle Jimpson, +of Grigg and Winter's drapery warehouse, Weymouth. How the Holy Moses +you've gone and got her mixed up with the lady the Rajah has his eye on +licks me, but what licks me most is how Nettle came to be aboard that +steam yacht. She ought to be in her beauty sleep on Grigg and Winter's +top floor, preparing for a busy day behind the underlinen counter."</p> + +<p>"You're sure?" said Reggie, receiving the binoculars back.</p> + +<p>"Sure as eggs," responded Parsons. "I could see that she was holding +language towards the little monkey on the bridge, him being the captain, +I reckon. That's Nettle Jimpson all over."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Reggie, after a moment's reflection, "if your girl hails +from Weymouth it's fair proof<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> that that is the steamer we want, for +Weymouth was her last port of call."</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you, sir, that she was a cough-drop," rejoined Parsons +excitedly. "You can stake your shirt she's bested that dirty little +captain somehow. That's why he's stopping for us."</p> + +<p>"But he isn't stopping for us," chimed in the second-lieutenant, and his +dictum was emphasized by his slight lisp. "See, he's started at +full-speed, and that means that he has scored the trick, for his +rascally packet is fitted with turbine engines. He's been fooling us, +sir."</p> + +<p>Reggie Beauchamp was generally a clean-mouthed man, but the tea-party +old ladies of Ottermouth would have banned him for evermore could they +have heard the sultry oath that flew from his lips as he realized the +truth of the assertion. Simon Brant, near enough now for his loathsome +personality to be appreciated, was making insulting gestures at them +with the hand which he had just withdrawn from the engine-room +telegraph. And like a hound slipped from the leash the <i>Cobra</i> leapt +forward and went racing to the south-west at forty knots—a speed which +would quickly reduce her to a speck upon the horizon.</p> + +<p>And after that—chaos!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<h3>TRAVERS NUGENT PAYS</h3> + + +<p>After letting himself in through the door from the moor into the grounds +of The Hut, Travers Nugent paused irresolute. Should he punish that +impudent hussy Enid Mallory by keeping her in the grotto all night and +have her accidentally "found" in the morning, or should he go and +release her now?</p> + +<p>In either case he meant to throw the blame on Tuke, whom he could +describe as an irresponsible lunatic—or anything else that came into +his head at the time. He need not be too nice about his excuses, for, +after all, the girl, as a trespasser on his private property, was the +real offender. It would be interesting to know what account she would +give of herself.</p> + +<p>On the whole he decided that it would be wiser to go and let her out at +once, and so have done with an incident which he regretted as a blunder +on the part of his too zealous follower. Mr. Vernon Mallory was a +dangerous man to annoy, and, conscious as he was of his veiled +antagonism, Nugent did not want to give him cause for open quarrel. Till +the <i>Cobra</i> had reached her destination, and all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> traces of her had +been obliterated, Bhagwan Singh's agent knew that he would have to walk +warily indeed.</p> + +<p>So he struck into the shrubbery, and on coming to the grotto unlocked +the door with the key which Tuke had left in the keyhole. With a curious +qualm that was not exactly alarm he saw that his kind offices would not +be needed, and that the lies he had framed might remain unspoken. For +the electric torch which he flashed on the gloomy interior showed it to +be untenanted, while the gaping hole in the roof told of the way of +escape.</p> + +<p>Nugent stared at the improvised ladder of fertilizer kegs, and at the +aperture overhead, with a thoughtful frown.</p> + +<p>"That is hardly girl's work, yet she cannot have had help," he muttered. +"If she had contrived to attract attention, no one would have been at +the pains of breaking open the roof for her when the key was on the +outside of the door all the time. Certainly she had hours to do it in; +and she's more than half a boy."</p> + +<p>He turned away, and, crossing the dewy lawn, entered his library by the +unfastened French window. The shaded lamp had been lit, shedding a +pleasant glow over the cosy bachelor room, and he gave a little sigh of +content. He was fain to admit that he was tired with the day's +exertions, and glad to be home again. He rang the bell, and the +soft-footed Sinnett appeared.</p> + +<p>"Mix me some whisky and soda water and give me a cigar," he said. "You +have nothing out of the common to report?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothing that you do not know already, sir," was the reply. "Tuke will +have informed you about Miss Mallory and the stone grotto."</p> + +<p>"That is why I asked," rejoined Nugent. "The young lady has gone, and +part of the roof of the grotto has been removed. You have heard or seen +nothing that would account for it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all, sir. I have not been in the garden, but no sound +reached me in the house. And I have been listening—in case she called +out."</p> + +<p>Nugent nodded, knowing the man's ways. "And that mad French seller of +onions, he has not been here to-day?" he continued.</p> + +<p>"No, sir; I haven't seen him for a day or two."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Sinnett. Then that will be all now I think. Don't go to bed +just yet. I may want you to go out and post a letter for the early +collection."</p> + +<p>The butler having retired, Nugent lay back in his luxurious lounge-chair +and sipped his drink and watched the blue wreaths from his Havana +coiling upwards. He was filled with a delightful sense of achievement. +The thing which had seemed so easy at first, and had then threatened +dire failure through Chermside's defection, had been carried out in +spite of the temporary obstacle. That band of electric light stealing +away across the dark sea had been the signal that he had won the game, +the stakes of which were the Maharajah's twenty thousand pounds. Not bad +pay for six months' work, of which his pawns had taken the most arduous +share.</p> + +<p>He did not anticipate any trouble from these pawns, except perhaps, from +one. Leslie Cherm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>side was safe on board the <i>Cobra</i>, and Bhagwan Singh +might be trusted to see to it that he was never heard of again. That +vain puppet, Louise Aubin, could do him no harm if she would, since she +would believe, as all the world would believe, that Violet had +voluntarily fled with her lover. And if the flighty French maid was +disappointed in her preposterous aims with regard to himself—well, a +little palm-grease would effectually staunch the bleeding of her fickle +heart. Simon Brant, Bully Cheeseman, Tuke, and Sinnett were his +accomplices rather than his tools, and they might be trusted to keep +silence for their own sakes; if not, he knew enough to hang each or all +of them. The crew of the <i>Cobra</i> were to be paid off in India, whence +they would doubtless be scattered to the four winds of heaven; and, +besides the captain and the mate, not one of them was aware of his +connection with the affair.</p> + +<p>The remaining exception, which had cost him more uneasiness than all the +rest combined, was Pierre Legros. The onion-seller's insane and +vindictive jealousy of himself in respect of Louise might grow into a +factor to be reckoned with, entailing unpleasant, if not actually +perilous, consequences. Well, it would be surprising if he, Travers +Nugent, the finished schemer, were not equal to dealing with a +half-demented foreign sailor, whose position was, to put it mildly, +somewhat insecure.</p> + +<p>"A hint to the fair Louise to revert to her original suspicion would +satisfactorily settle Monsieur Pierre Legros, without my having to make +an open move myself," he mused aloud, as he summed up the situation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p> + +<p>Sitting there lazily in the lamp-glow, he felt like a general reviewing +a victorious battlefield—"cleaning up the mess," as he put it to +himself, with the advantage that there was no visible mess to clean up. +He had scored another of those easy wins in the great game of life—the +game he had played so long and so successfully, with men and women as +counters and gold as the final stake.</p> + +<p>But as he murmured that last self-gratulation there came a sudden sound, +very faint, but near at hand, to break his train of thought. He had left +the long window open so that he could watch the fire-flies on the +dew-frosted grass of the lawn; but he was not sure if the sound came +from out there in the garden or from inside the room. It was an +ill-defined sound, that might have been the intake of a heavy breath or +the stirring of leaves gently moved by the sluggish air. The chair he +sat in backed on to a beautifully-carved sandalwood screen which covered +the angle at one side of the hearth, and he was smiling, half +contemptuously, at an impulse to rise and look behind the screen, when +it was checked and driven clean out of his head by quite a different +sort of noise.</p> + +<p>From the back premises, prolonged and imperative, there reached him the +metallic clamour of the electric bell—the bell at the front door. He +glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was half-past twelve. Who +could be calling upon him at that time of night?</p> + +<p>A moment later Sinnett knocked and entered, and the man's usually +imperturbable face, white and quivering, struck the keynote of danger. +With an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> apologetic gesture, as though to convey that his outer defences +had been forced, he stood aside and announced—</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mallory, sir, and Sergeant Bruce. I told them I didn't think you +would see them so late, but they insisted."</p> + +<p>Nugent rose, somewhat heavily, to greet his visitors. He was wondering +where was the flaw in the web he had woven. There must be a loose thread +somewhere, or these men would not be here. That little devil Enid must +have been complaining about Tuke's behaviour, and if that was all there +was no harm done. So there was no trace of disquiet in the sleepy smile +and stifled yawn which he affected.</p> + +<p>"Ah, my dear Mallory; I was dozing, I think. And you, Bruce," he +murmured, with a pleasant nod for the police-officer. "This looks very +formidable. What is wrong? If it is nothing urgent, perhaps you will sit +down."</p> + +<p>Vernon Mallory ignored the civility. "I have just seen my daughter," he +began, with a quiet directness that duly impressed its hearer. "She has +been shut up in the grotto in your grounds all the afternoon—whether +with or without your knowledge is immaterial. The point is this: her +imprisonment led to her learning that you had planned to entrap some +female on to a vessel to-night, using Chermside in some unexplained +manner, which, however, I can guess at, as a decoy. Now, a few moments +before she escaped from your grotto Enid heard Violet Maynard's voice in +your garden, apparently on the way down to the shore. I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> telephoned +to the Manor House, by favour of the exchange, and I am informed that +Miss Maynard cannot be found in or about the house. What have you to +say?"</p> + +<p>Travers Nugent felt as if an icy finger had touched his spine. The +indictment put forward with such inexorable precision comprised the very +core of his whole vile plot. This terrible old man had even hinted that +the means employed to drive Chermside on to the <i>Cobra</i> were no secret +to him. This was a bolt from the blue which only a bold front could +avert. Everything depended on the source of Enid Mallory's amazing +discovery; till he had ascertained that, it would be childish to abandon +his position.</p> + +<p>He gave an amused little laugh. "Really it is too bad that I should be +dragged into Miss Enid's home-made romance," he protested. "Did she give +you chapter and verse, may I ask?"</p> + +<p>"My daughter is not a fool," Mr. Mallory replied quietly. "She happened +to have a fellow-prisoner in the grotto, who had earlier in the day +heard you discussing your plans for this evening with one of your +creatures—the same man who shut her into the grotto. To be quite frank +with you, Mr. Nugent, the sergeant accompanies me because I intend to +charge you with serious crime."</p> + +<p>"And anything you say will be taken down and used against you," the +policeman interjected with official gravity. This was the first time the +worthy man had had to arrest a gentleman, and he hardly knew whether he +liked the job or not.</p> + +<p>"Serious crime is a comprehensive phrase,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> sneered Nugent. "Means +anything from pitch and toss to manslaughter. Come, sir! What do you +charge me with?"</p> + +<p>"With a crime one degree more heinous than the worst of those you have +named—with murder, as an accessory before the fact," the accuser's +clear voice cut the silence. "I charge you with indirectly inciting one +Pierre Legros to kill Levi Levison under circumstances that would throw +suspicion on Mr. Chermside. I charge you with using the state of terror +to which you reduced that unhappy man in order to induce him to fly in +such a manner that he might be deemed to have eloped with the lady whom +you have been suborned to snatch from her home and friends for——"</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory checked himself. His ancient training in international +politics saved him from the indiscretion of naming the Indian prince who +was behind the culprit. And, sub-consciously, he was also checked by a +movement behind Nugent's chair. The great carved sandal-wood screen +swayed, and was surely going to fall forward on the man who was +fingering his long moustache in a vain effort to frame an answer. But +no, the screen righted itself, and Nugent's tongue moistened his dry +lips into power of utterance.</p> + +<p>"Very pretty, very pretty," he said, striving for calm. "But don't you +see, my dear Mallory, that all your midnight madness topples down like a +house of cards unless your daughter's informant—her fellow-prisoner, as +you call him—is a credible witness. I will make you a small wager that +he will never come forward and tell the public the wonderful pack of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +lies with which he gulled that charming little girl of yours. I——"</p> + +<p>Again that movement in the screen behind Nugent's chair, and this time +with results that shifted the centre of interest with startling +suddenness. Round the corner of the screen came Pierre Legros, gaunt and +haggard, his fierce eyes in accord with the furious spasms that made a +battle-ground of his unshaven face. Nugent, half turning in his chair to +look up at the apparition which had drawn the gaze of the other two, +broke off in the midst of his sneer with a sobbing catch in his throat.</p> + +<p>"You say I not come forward to spik the truth?" the Frenchman began, in +a voice that shook with emotion. "I was hide here to do that to you, and +now these gentlemens shall hear the truth also. I only now learn it +myself, for it is different from what I think till now. I say to myself, +messieurs, that this <i>scélérat</i> desire to depart in steamer with Louise +Aubin, but I was wrong. What you say about Ma'amselle Maynard and that +poor Jermicide, monsieur, show me all his wickedness as by flash of +lightning. It is true, gentlemens, that I kill Levison, and that this +Nugent tempt me to it."</p> + +<p>The sergeant made a movement, but changed his mind. The man was in the +mood to confess, and confession implied that he meant surrender. No need +to lay hands on him till he had made a little more evidence. Mr. Mallory +stood like a graven image watching Nugent, who, still preserving the +half-turn he had made in his lounge chair, was staring up as if +fascinated by the man at his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"It is that I desire to make clean the name of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> man who is innocent," +Legros went on. "This Jermicide—I not know him, I nevair spik with him, +but he do me no wrong, and Pierre Legros is not cruel, messieurs. I +would not that Jermicide suffer for me, who am guilty. Nugent, he send +for me, and pretend he wish to save Louise from the so deceitful +Levison, who made to admire her. He say, did Nugent, that Louise, whom +as a boy in Brittany I love, will meet Levison on the marsh, and that he +will persuade her to fly with him to London, where Levison will leave +her in disgrace. Messieurs, I was mad—my brain was hot like +fire—Nugent he gave me the place and time of meeting, and I was there +first—with my knife—that was all."</p> + +<p>The tragedy in the concluding words was dramatic; even more so the +silence that followed. The sergeant, good man, felt that the next move +was with him, but he was single-handed, and had not bargained for having +to convey two murderers to the station when he consented to accompany +Mr. Mallory to The Hut. He coughed nervously to attract the attention of +his two prospective prisoners, who seemed to have no eyes for any one +but each other. Nugent, with his head twisted round, was looking up at +Legros; Legros, behind the chair, was looking down at Nugent, his +nostrils twitching strangely. The Frenchman, with innate politeness, +understood, and obeyed the policeman's claim on his attention, turning a +mild and friendly gaze on him.</p> + +<p>"You know, you'll have to come along with me, both of you, after this," +said the sergeant haltingly. "You won't give any trouble, Legros?" It +did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> not occur to his mind that the gentleman would otherwise than "go +quietly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," Legros answered gently. "We shall both of us give you nothing +of the trouble, monsieur. I myself, Pierre Legros, will see that this +wolf in the clothes of the sheep will go from this apartment with +complacence the most profound."</p> + +<p>Nugent essayed to rise, unsteadily, to his feet, but Legros shot out a +brown hand on to his shoulder, and firmly pressed him back into a +sitting posture.</p> + +<p>"Stay there, <i>chien</i>, till you have the orders to move," he snarled.</p> + +<p>The eyes of the master of the house glittered balefully. "Really, +sergeant, if you persist in coupling us in this absurd charge, I must +ask your protection against this man," he protested. "I was going to +ring the bell for my servant to arrange matters before leaving; perhaps +you will kindly do it for me."</p> + +<p>In answer to the summons Sinnett appeared, furtively scanning his +employer's face for some sign of his wishes other than what he might +hear in words. A quick look of intelligence passed between them, though +Nugent's request sounded simple enough.</p> + +<p>"There has been a stupid misunderstanding, Sinnett, which will entail my +going with Sergeant Bruce till it has been explained," he said quietly. +"I want you to put a few things in my handbag, please—just absolute +necessaries, such as a change of linen and a tooth brush. You will know +what I am most likely to need. Don't keep us waiting, there's a good +fellow."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> + +<p>The silent-footed servitor bowed and retired, and with an air of +contemptuous resignation Nugent lay back in his chair. As he fingered +his fair moustache his gaze, lazily contemplative, was all for the +observant face of Mr. Mallory, whose attention was directed at the +supple form of the French sailor. Legros himself had no eyes for any one +but the man over whose chair he hovered, expectant and menacing. The +sergeant kept shifting from one foot to another, emphasizing the silence +with deprecatory coughs. He was probably the most uncomfortable man in +the room.</p> + +<p>The tableau was not unduly prolonged, for in less than three minutes +Sinnett reappeared, carrying a small leather bag, which he brought to +his master. Nugent placed it on his lap, and, idly fingering the catch, +proceeded to instruct his servant on various household matters. The +gardener was to be careful to attend to the heating of the orchid house; +Nugent was minutely particular about ordering his dinner for the +following night, as he had no doubt that after explaining to the +magistrates at Exmouth he should be at home in good time to enjoy it. +Dixon, the chauffeur, was to have the car at the police court at noon, +so as to be ready to bring him back.</p> + +<p>"And now, sergeant, I think I am ready to end this business," he +concluded, looking blandly round. "It really galls me to give you so +much trouble, but you, like my dear friend Mallory, have brought it on +yourself, you see."</p> + +<p>As he spoke the fingers which had been toying with the catch of the bag +closed, snapping it open and diving swift as lightning into the +interior. At<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> the same moment Pierre Legros thrust his hand into the +bosom of his blue blouse, and withdrew it just as Nugent lifted a +revolver from the bag. There was a gleam of steel, and a great +sheath-knife shot downwards like a streak of fire into the back of +Nugent's neck ere he could level the weapon. The point of the knife came +out above the collar-stud, and the Frenchman dragged it out with a +vicious wrench as the corpse fell forward on to a magnificent tiger-skin +rug.</p> + +<p>"He make to shoot us all," said Legros calmly. "But most he make to +shoot you, Monsieur Mallory, and I glad to save the father of the brave +ma'amselle. But I have no love for the Ingleesh rope or the Ingleesh +madhouse—so <i>bon voyage</i>, messieurs."</p> + +<p>And before they could guess his intention the big knife was driven home, +through the blue blouse, into his own tumultuous heart.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<h3>THE STING OF THE NETTLE</h3> + + +<p>The moment when the <i>Snipe</i> was first sighted from the bridge of the +<i>Cobra</i> was immediately after Brant's refusal to put into Plymouth to +allow Miss Jimpson to communicate with her "young man." The girl had +just turned away to rejoin Violet in the saloon, when her quick ears +caught the phrase—</p> + +<p>"There's a torpedo craft of sorts away to the nor'-east, and I'm +jiggered if I don't think she's chasing us."</p> + +<p>The speaker was Bully Cheeseman, who thus passed on his discovery to the +captain. The latter took a long survey of the distant destroyer through +his telescope, and then, cocking his eye to see if Nettle was within +earshot, assented to the mate's statement in a string of imprecations, +the pith of which was that the stranger was travelling thirty knots to +their twenty.</p> + +<p>Which was perfectly true as far as it went, though had he so wished +Brant might have added that the <i>Cobra</i>, fast as she was moving through +the water, was only going at half her possible speed of forty knots. But +he was seized with a malicious desire to raise false hopes on the part +of his prisoners, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> he wanted Nettle to draw the inference that the +war vessel could easily overtake them.</p> + +<p>To add to the disappointment of the girl who had flouted him he sent +verbal instructions to the engine-room to reduce the speed still +further, with the result, as we know, that the <i>Snipe</i> began to rapidly +creep up. Nettle, after taking in the situation as she believed it to +exist, ran excitedly into the saloon and imparted the glad tidings to +Violet.</p> + +<p>"The brute refused to call at Plymouth, but we've beat him for all +that," she cried. "There's a Navy ship chevying us and catching up like +mad. Your friends must have got news through to the admiral at Plymouth, +and he's sent that dear dirty little boat after us. We shall soon be all +right now, Miss Maynard."</p> + +<p>The girl's cheery optimism was infectious, and Violet roused herself +from the apathy of despair. "I hope so, dear," she said, leaping up from +the couch where she had spent the miserable night. "Shall we go out on +deck and watch Brant's discomfiture?"</p> + +<p>But Nettle was wise according to her lights. "I think it would be better +for you to stay here," she advised. "The captain is such a beast that he +might be rude if you showed on deck. He might hide you away somewhere +till the danger was past," she added, remembering the ghastly inferno on +the lower deck, to which Leslie Chermside had been relegated.</p> + +<p>"Then how shall we know what happens?"</p> + +<p>"I will keep you posted," Nettle rejoined eagerly. "It doesn't matter +about me. Anyhow, I'll stay on deck till I'm stopped, and run in here +now and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> again. What a lark it would be if that was the <i>Snipe</i>, with my +Ned aboard. I was reading a tale the other day where they hung a pirate +at his own yard-arm, which is a thing I don't believe they've got on +this ugly up-and-down steamer. But I'll bet a pair of Grigg and Winter's +best one-and-eleven-penny white kids that Mr. Edward Parsons, of his +Majesty's destroyer <i>Snipe</i>, will find something to hang Captain Simon +Brant on if that's him out yonder."</p> + +<p>She skipped out on to the deck without waiting for an answer, and her +stout heart pulsed with joy as she saw the lean, venomous hull of the +warship much nearer than when she had entered the saloon. Her appearance +was the signal for a violent flow of language from Brant, who had +confided the secret of his mummery to the mate. Cheeseman, with his +tongue in his cheek, played up to the lead of the apelike skipper, +simulating the wildest terror of the oncoming destroyer.</p> + +<p>Nettle leaned over the rail not far from the saloon door, into which she +darted at brief intervals with the latest news. Each time she was able +to improve on her last report—that she could make out objects on the +deck of the pursuer clearer than before. But the highwater mark of +ecstasy was reached when Nettle ran in with the announcement that it was +indeed the <i>Snipe</i> which was after them, that she had recognized her +Ned, and had received an answer to her signals.</p> + +<p>"They'll be alongside in a few minutes," she cheered Violet. "Brant and +Cheeseman are tearing their hair with rage."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + +<p>But disaster followed swift on her triumph. Running back to the rail, +she saw to her dismay that the distance between the two vessels had +increased, and that the reason was not far to seek. The <i>Snipe</i> was +steaming as fast as ever; but the <i>Cobra</i> was tearing through the calm +sea at the pace of an express train. During Nettle's absence in the +saloon Brant had rung down to the engineers to let loose the full power +of the mighty turbines, and the fugitive was running away at ten knots +an hour faster than the little war-vessel could follow.</p> + +<p>From behind the wind-screen on the bridge the evil face of the captain +peered down at the girl he had mocked with false hopes. Miss Jimpson was +engaged in a dumb-show demonstration of her requirements to her lover, +whose stalwart figure as he conversed with his officers in the +conning-house of the <i>Snipe</i> seemed to be growing momentarily smaller. +Her gestures did not conform to the correct motions as laid down in the +gunnery drill-book, but they conveyed a fair impression of what she +wanted.</p> + +<p>Brant's sinister face was creased in a malignant grin. "Go it, my +vixen," he jeered down from his eyrie. "Living statues ain't in it with +you for showing off the female figure in the wrong pose. But you can +spare your antics, for they'll never dare fire on us without orders, and +them I'll lay a whale to a herring they haven't got."</p> + +<p>Nettle bit her ripe red lip to keep back the retort that surged up. It +was no time for wasting breath in futile insults, when something had to +be done, and done quickly, if the tragedy implied by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> escape of the +<i>Cobra</i> was not to be consummated. But, if the <i>Snipe</i> would not use her +guns or torpedoes, how was she, with the pluck of the devil but only the +experience of a draper's girl, to enable a slower ship to catch a faster +one? If only she had a man to help her, with knowledge equal to her +determination.</p> + +<p>And then, suddenly, it flashed across her brain that there was such a +man on board if only she could get to him unobserved. Chermside, chained +in the black hole on the lower deck, had risked life once already in +Violet Maynard's cause, and would doubtless do so again, were he granted +the opportunity. Or if that were not possible he might tell her what to +do.</p> + +<p>Deciding for the present not to harrow Violet with news of the altered +situation, she spent a grudged five minutes in lulling suspicion by +sauntering about the upper deck. The crew were too interested in the +game their captain was playing with the destroyer to pay any attention +to her movements, and, watching Brant out of the tail of her eye, she at +last slipped down the companion stairs on to the main deck. In another +minute she had clambered down the ladder into the obscurity of the lower +deck, and so safely reached the den where Leslie was confined.</p> + +<p>Revived by the water she had given him on her last visit, he was +suffering now from little more than the discomfort of cramped limbs, and +was able to follow intelligently the breathless story which the girl +poured out to him. At the conclusion he groaned at his own impotence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If I was only free I might find a way of stopping the ship," he said. +"Do you think if you could get tools you could draw the staple to which +the chain is fastened?"</p> + +<p>Nettle stood on tiptoe, and, after a careful scrutiny in the half light, +was compelled to admit that the task, even with the aid of tools, would +be beyond her powers. The staple, which was really a heavy iron ring, +was firmly driven into the oak bulk-head, and without mechanical +leverage would remain immovable.</p> + +<p>"But what should you have done supposing you were loose?" she asked. +"Find a pistol and shoot Brant and the mate? I am afraid I should miss +them, or I'd have a try myself."</p> + +<p>"You would have to shoot the whole crew," replied Leslie, with a weary +smile for her eagerness. "No, I should endeavour to hit upon some plan +for damaging the engines. Those of a turbine steamer like this are a +very delicate piece of mechanism, and a comparatively trifling injury, +not necessarily entailing great violence, would do the trick. Ever such +a little delay for repairs would enable the <i>Snipe</i> to catch up if they +have allowed her to come as close as you describe."</p> + +<p>"Then the sooner I set to work the better," said Nettle, knitting her +brows, as the germ of an inspiration was born. "Good-bye, Mr. Chermside, +and keep your pecker up. Miss Maynard doesn't know the hobble we're +in—still thinks we're on the point of being rescued."</p> + +<p>"God bless you for that," Leslie flung after his departing visitor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> + +<p>But she was already half-way to the ladder to the main deck. In her +exploration of the steamer during the run from Weymouth on the previous +day she had been idly interested in what Chermside had called the +delicate piece of mechanism, so far as its throbbing pulses were visible +through the dome-shaped skylight of glass on the upper deck over the +engine-room. The glass was opaque and thickly corrugated, but a slide in +the dome had been opened for ventilating purposes, and through the +aperture Nettle had been fascinated by the antics of gyrating fly-wheels +and sucking piston-rods below. As she emerged into the free air of the +upper deck she wondered if that convenient slide was open now.</p> + +<p>But her first glance was for the pursuing warship, and it told her that +the destroyer was a good half-mile further astern since her plunge into +the bowels of the <i>Cobra</i>. Her second anxiety was about Brant, and she +was comforted to see that he was not on the bridge. As a matter of fact +he had gone to his cabin for breakfast, tiring of a joke which had lost +its zest with Nettle's disappearance from the deck.</p> + +<p>The glass dome over the engine-room was amidships, abaft the funnel. +Thither she strolled with seeming carelessness, passing on forward +without stopping, but satisfying herself as she did so that the +ventilating slide was open. She walked nearly to the bows, and then, on +turning to come back, struck a gold mine in the way of good fortune, +though it took the humble shape of a zinc bucket full of cinders. It had +been placed by the cook outside the door of the caboose, ready to be +thrown overboard by one of the sailors—a duty which had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> been neglected +in the excitement of the chase by the <i>Snipe</i>.</p> + +<p>Miss Jimpson looked slyly round. With the exception of the look-out man +in the bows the crew were all aft, watching the outpaced war vessel and +exchanging ribald jests at the expense of her commander. But between the +cook-house and the superstructure in which were the saloon and the +state-rooms was an open stretch of deck in clear view of the bridge. And +on the bridge Bully Cheeseman was stalking to and fro, in charge of the +ship.</p> + +<p>To reach her objective, the skylight over the engine-room, she would +have to traverse the open space as far as the deck-house, when the +latter would furnish some sort of cover; but the real danger would be +after she had passed under the bridge into the after-part of the vessel. +The eyes of the mate, who was watching the destroyer, were naturally +turned in that direction. The only compensation was that the skylight +was close to the bridge, and that she would not be long in the perilous +zone of Cheeseman's vision before attempting her self-set task.</p> + +<p>Anyhow, the danger had to be faced, and, timing her start so that the +mate should be at the opposite end of the bridge from the side of the +ship she selected for her rush, Nettle seized the bucket and raced for +the shelter of the deck-house. She reached it without, so far as she +knew, being observed, and so came to the alley under the bridge, where +she waited till the lighter sound of Cheeseman's heavy steps overhead +told that he had again receded from the side where she meant to +operate.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 365px;"> +<img src="images/i295.jpg" width="365" height="550" alt=""Looking up, she caught the furious eye of Cheeseman +glaring at her along the blue barrel of his still levelled pistol."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Looking up, she caught the furious eye of Cheeseman +glaring at her along the blue barrel of his still levelled pistol."</span> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then, with a queer little sob of expectancy, she darted forward to the +glazed cupola and raised the bucket shoulder high over the open slide. +As she stood there, her splendid young figure posed like a Greek +goddess, a hoarse oath was yelled from the bridge, followed instantly by +the simultaneous crack of a revolver and the ping of a bullet on the +bucket. The missile glanced off and seared the bloom on the girl's +cheek.</p> + +<p>Looking up, she caught the furious eye of Cheeseman glaring at her along +the blue barrel of his still levelled pistol. She smiled up at him, and +before he could fire again she dumped the contents of the bucket into +the whirling tangle of machinery below.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<h3>AFTERMATH OF STORM</h3> + + +<p>The cinders fell with a clatter among the pistons and the fly-wheels, +and Nettle Jimpson, too absorbed in watching results, forgot to notice +that the ruffian on the bridge had not fired a second shot at her. For +almost immediately there began a jarring and a scrunching in the engines +which told that the delicate mechanism was trying to assimilate in its +vitals the rough food she had fed it with, and found it indigestible. +Cold-blooded murder was quite in Mr. Cheeseman's line as a preventive, +equally so as a cure had that been possible. But those ominous sounds +were eloquent of mischief done, and he was not the man to run his neck +into a noose for the empty pleasure of revenge.</p> + +<p>Three feeble revolutions followed, and then the engines stopped +altogether, and the <i>Cobra</i>, quickly exhausting the way on her, lay like +a log on the oily swell. Brant came running from his cabin, and at the +foot of the bridge stairs met Cheeseman, who had descended, and the +chief engineer, who had hurried up from below.</p> + +<p>"How long will it take to pick the stuff out?" asked Brant, when he had +been informed of what had happened.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It will be from two to three hours before we can get a move on the +ship," was the engineer's verdict. "A lot of the muck has got into the +governors and cylinders. If I hadn't shut off steam sharp there'd have +been such a mix up that the steamer would have had to dock for repairs."</p> + +<p>This meant that the <i>Snipe</i> would be up with them in twenty minutes. +Brant cocked a wicked eye at the oncoming destroyer, and then began to +walk to where Nettle was still standing by the engine-room hatch. So +diabolical was the menace on the horrible hairless face that the girl +was fascinated as by a snake, and could not fly, though she knew that +her fate was trembling in the balance. Brant addressed her very quietly.</p> + +<p>"Will you jump overboard yourself, or shall I shoot you first and then +throw you over?" he said, drawing a vicious Derringer from his hip.</p> + +<p>Unflinchingly Nettle returned his stare. She even laughed a little. "I +am certainly not going to commit the crime of suicide to save you from +committing the crime of murder. I don't love you well enough for that," +she replied.</p> + +<p>And then the swift thought came to her that the wretch meant to slake +his thirst for revenge and trust to his cunning to avoid the penalty for +it. When the warship's men boarded the <i>Cobra</i> he would have to explain +the kidnapping of Violet Maynard and his treatment of Chermside as best +he could, and he would doubtless have to suffer for it. But he had been +guilty of no capital offence against them, and might contrive to throw +much of the blame on other shoulders.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll give you thirty seconds to reconsider that decision," said Brant, +cocking and raising the pistol.</p> + +<p>"It will be about long enough for you to reconsider yours," Nettle +rejoined promptly. "You are relying on the crew of that destroyer not +being aware that there are two women on board your ship. You think that +if they saw me on deck they will have taken me for Miss Maynard, and +that with her rescue assured they will ask no questions about me."</p> + +<p>"And they won't," said Brant, though there was a note of interrogation +in the assertion. "How are they to know that I shipped a d——d wild-cat +at Weymouth?"</p> + +<p>"That is the hole you have dug for yourself to tumble into," returned +Miss Nettle Jimpson sweetly. "You thought you were being funny at my +expense in allowing the torpedo-boat to nearly catch you, but you +overdid your joke, Captain Brant. That ship is the <i>Snipe</i>, with my +young man as acting gunner. You let her come so close that we were +blowing kisses to each other half an hour ago. When my Ned steps on to +your deck five minutes hence he'll ask for me, if he's still the +affectionate youth I've educated him into. And you won't be able to +gammon him with any yarn about my having jumped overboard. He knows +jolly well I'm not built that way."</p> + +<p>Brant looked up at her, mouthing and gibbering; then he spat on the +deck, and, turning away without a word, flung his Derringer over the +rail into the sea.</p> + +<p>And the helpless <i>Cobra</i>, her poison-fangs drawn,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> lay on the swell like +a wilted weed while the <i>Snipe</i>, vomiting black fury from her three +funnels, swooped down.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Mr. Montague Maynard passed the decanter, and beamed upon his +guests—Mr. Vernon Mallory and Reggie Beauchamp. Through the open window +they could catch glimpses of Leslie Chermside, who had taken a lover's +privilege to leave the dessert table early and join Violet on the Manor +House lawn. Somewhere out there in the twilight there were also Aunt +Sarah and Enid Mallory, the elder lady listening for about the twentieth +time to the adventure of the younger in the grotto at The Hut—an +adventure which had been the direct cause of her great-niece's rescue.</p> + +<p>"Roughly speaking, then, this is what you make of it," Mr. Maynard was +saying. "From first to last Levison's murder was a job put up by Travers +Nugent in order to render my future son-in-law the bait for getting +Violet on to the <i>Cobra</i>?"</p> + +<p>"That is established from the mouth of Pierre Legros, from Brant's +brutal frankness to Violet, and by Nugent's evident intention to kill +Sergeant Bruce, Legros and myself the other night," replied Mr. Mallory. +"He would not have embarked on wholesale murder, which must have been +brought home to him, unless he had known that the game was up, and that +his only resource was flight."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is all clear enough," the Birmingham magnate assented. "But +what I am most concerned with, as I like the chap and he is going to +marry my daughter, is Chermside's extraordinary conduct in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> being +frightened into bolting on to that infernal steamer. There seems to be +no rhyme or reason to it, he being obviously innocent of the crime. I +shouldn't like to think that Violet was going to marry a fool or a +coward."</p> + +<p>The old civil servant made patterns on his plate with walnut shells +before replying. He was thinking of an interview he had had with Leslie +Chermside that morning, at which the young ex-Lancer had made full +confession to him of his early implication in the plot, and had sought +advice as to what as a man of honour he ought to do. Mr. Mallory, after +very earnest consideration, had given that advice, and it was in +sustentation of it that he now replied—</p> + +<p>"My view is this—that Chermside was duped by Nugent into becoming an +accomplice in this atrocious scheme, without in the least understanding +the enormity of the offence he was to aid, that he discovered how and +for what a vile purpose he had been duped, and that in the meanwhile, +having fallen in love with your daughter, he was terrified lest his +complicity should come out. Nugent then deliberately engineered the +murder of Levison so that he might play upon Chermside's fear—not of +the legal consequences of arrest for murder, but of the revelations that +would follow, Levison, I have reason to believe, having played a minor +part in the conspiracy. The affair fell out exactly as Nugent +anticipated, and Chermside lost his head and ran away—with the results +we know."</p> + +<p>Montague Maynard puckered his brows in a judicial frown quite unsuitable +to his jovial features. But the cloud passed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," he exclaimed, "the boy has acted straight enough, though he would +have been wiser to put us on our guard instead of trusting that Nugent +had abandoned the plot. He tells me, however, that he intended to write +me about it at the first opportunity, and I have not found him other +than truthful. I remember when I tackled him first about Violet, he +confessed that the yacht, waiting to take him on that accursed cruise, +and credited to him by local gossip, was not his property. No false +pretence about that."</p> + +<p>"I am sure he tried to act for the best in a very difficult position," +Mr. Mallory interposed quietly.</p> + +<p>"And his behaviour on the <i>Cobra</i> in tackling, single-handed and +unarmed, the crew of the launch, shows he's got grit," Maynard continued +warmly. "I reckon we'll leave it at that. He has tried to chuck away his +life to save Vi; he has suffered the tortures of the damned for her, and +as he's good enough for her, he shall be good enough for me."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory heaved a sigh of content, which, coming from him, was not of +the kind that is noticed. He had achieved his purpose without betraying +a confidence.</p> + +<p>"You arranged the hushing-up process deuced cleverly," the screw +manufacturer went on. "All that transpired at the adjourned inquest on +Levison, I understand, and at those on Legros and Nugent, was that +Nugent, had been engaged in a plot to kidnap Violet, and that it had +failed. Some idiot in Parliament might have raised Cain if Bhagwan +Singh's connection with it had been made public."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Mallory smiled. "I was certainly careful not to let the worthy +sergeant into the secret of the Maharajah's iniquity," he said. "But we +have chiefly Beauchamp here to thank for the veil we have been able to +draw over the inner history of the conspiracy. His prompt action in +putting to sea, and his judicious handling of Brant after boarding the +<i>Cobra</i>, crowned my humble efforts with success. The idea of letting +Brant and his crew of cut-throats go scot-free, with the advice to +finish their voyage and demand payment and explanations from Bhagwan +Singh, was a masterpiece which augurs well for our young friend's +career. One can imagine the kind of payment that the Maharajah will mete +out when he gets that pack of failures into his dominions."</p> + +<p>"I had to handle the wicked little demon judiciously to save my own +skin," said Reggie modestly. "I had no orders to rove the seas in search +of lost heiresses or eloping couples, and my career might have been +nipped in the bud if I'd taken the <i>Cobra</i> into Devonport as a prize. My +lords of the Admiralty are not kind to independent action by junior +officers, and if I had pleaded that I had been ordered to sea by Enid it +would hardly have mended matters. But as we are apportioning rewards and +punishments, we mustn't forget the real heroine of the piece—Nettle +Jimpson, my gunner's best girl. If she hadn't fired that bucketful of +cinders into the engines we shouldn't be all sitting here shaking hands +with ourselves to-night."</p> + +<p>Montague Maynard filled his glass and drained it incontinently. "Grigg +and Wynter, drapers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> of Weymouth, ceased to exist as a firm to-day," he +remarked oracularly.</p> + +<p>"As to how?" demanded Reggie, genuinely puzzled.</p> + +<p>"I have bought their business as a little reward for Miss Jimpson," the +man of money replied. "She will have the transfer as soon as ever my +lawyers can put it through."</p> + +<p>"Then you've done his gracious Majesty an ill turn in losing him the +most promising acting-gunner in the service," said Reggie. "Ned Parsons, +as his wife's principal shop-walker, will be a standing disgrace to you, +Mr. Maynard, to the end of your days. His only prospect of safety is +that his future spouse is not, from what I saw of her, the sort of +person to tolerate flirtations with the girls behind the counter. But +while you are making everybody happy with that magic touch of yours, +sir, what are you doing for Mr. Lazarus Lowch, the champion juryman. I +hear that he was foreman at the other two inquests, as well as finishing +up Levison."</p> + +<p>The millionaire laughed boisterously—so boisterously that it devolved +upon Mr. Mallory to explain.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lazarus Lowch is as tame as a sucking dove," he said, with mock +solemnity. "He has had his claws clipped and has been taken into custody +by that sly little mischief-maker, Mademoiselle Louise Aubin."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" cried Reggie. "Miss Maynard's maid?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; she is a very astute young lady, and the only actor in our drama +whose actions have been not quite clear to me, except that she was a +bone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> of contention between Pierre Legros and Levison, and also figured +as one of Nugent's puppets. Be that as it may, she contrived to get hold +of Lowch, who, as you know, is a widower, as he was hanging about +outside the police-station ready to get summoned on the two later +inquests. She set her cap at him so effectually that he gave the coroner +no trouble, and proposed to her the same evening."</p> + +<p>"It must have been her figure that fetched him," said Reggie, with the +air of a connoisseur. "She's great on <i>corsage</i>."</p> + +<p>"And the figures in old Lowch's pass-book fetched her, I expect," roared +Montague Maynard, rising. "Come, let's go and cool off on the lawn. It +is time some one put a stopper on old Sally Dymmock. She's worrying the +love-birds, and demoralizing that girl of yours, Mallory."</p> + + +<h4>THE END</h4> + + +<p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="centerbox"> +<h2><a name="Ward_Lock_Cos" id="Ward_Lock_Cos"></a>Ward, Lock & Co.'s</h2> + +<h3>POPULAR FICTION</h3> + + +<h4>STANLEY WEYMAN</h4> + +<p>MY LADY ROTHA. 6s.</p> + +<p>A Romance of the Thirty Years' War.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p><span class="smcap">The Saturday Review.</span>—"No one who begins will lay it down before +the end, it is so extremely well carried on from adventure to +adventure."</p></blockquote> + + +<h4>ANTHONY HOPE</h4> + +<p>COMEDIES OF COURTSHIP. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Speaker.</span>—"In this volume Mr. Hope is at his happiest in that +particular department of fiction in which he reigns supreme."</p></blockquote> + +<p>HALF A HERO. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Athenæum.</span>—"Mr. Hope's best story in point of construction and +grasp of subject. His dialogue is virile and brisk."</p></blockquote> + +<p>MR. WITT'S WIDOW. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Times.</span>—"In truth a brilliant tale."</p></blockquote> + + +<h4>A. E. W. MASON</h4> + +<p>LAWRENCE CLAVERING. 6s.</p> + + +<h4>EDEN PHILLPOTTS</h4> + +<p>THE MOTHER. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Telegraph.</span>—"This is Mr. Phillpotts' best book. Whatever +may be the value of some fiction, it will do every man and woman +good to read this book. Its perusal should leave the reader in a +higher air."</p></blockquote> + + +<h4>SIR A. CONAN DOYLE</h4> + +<p>A STUDY IN SCARLET. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p>With a note on Sherlock Holmes by Dr. Joseph Bell. Illustrations by +George Hutchinson.</p></blockquote> + + +<h4>H. RIDER HAGGARD</h4> + +<p>AYESHA. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p>The Sequel to "She." Thirty-two full-page illustrations by Maurice +Grieffenhagen.</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>S. R. CROCKETT</h4> + +<p>JOAN OF THE SWORD HAND. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Mail.</span>—"A triumph of cheery, resolute narration. The +story goes along like a wave, and the reader with it."</p></blockquote> + +<p>STRONG MAC. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Morning Post.</span>—"At the very outset the reader is introduced to +the two leading characters of what is truly a drama of real life. +So vividly is the story told that it often reads like a narrative +of things that have actually happened."</p></blockquote> + +<p>LITTLE ESSON. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Scarborough Post.</span>—"One of the most popular of Mr. Crockett's +books since 'Lilac Sunbonnet.'"</p></blockquote> + + +<h4>MAX PEMBERTON</h4> + +<p>PRO PATRIA. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Liverpool Mercury.</span>—"A fine and distinguished piece of +imaginative writing; one that should shed a new lustre upon the +clever author of 'Kronstadt.'"</p></blockquote> + +<p>CHRISTINE OF THE HILLS. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Mail.</span>—"Assuredly he has never written anything more +fresh, more simple, more alluring, or more artistically perfect."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A GENTLEMAN'S GENTLEMAN. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Chronicle.</span>—"This is very much the best book Mr. +Pemberton has so far given us."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE GOLD WOLF. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Illustrated London News.</span>—"From the beginning Mr. Pemberton weaves +his romance with such skill that the tangled skein remains for long +unravelled ... marked by exceptional power, and holds the attention +firmly."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE LODESTAR. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Standard.</span>—"It impresses us as an exceedingly poignant and +effective story, true to real life. Written with cleverness and +charm."</p></blockquote> + + +<h4>ROBERT BARR</h4> + +<p>YOUNG LORD STRANLEIGH. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The World.</span>—"Mr. Barr gives us a remarkable sample of his power of +blending so deftly the bold imaginative with the matter-of-fact as +to produce a story which shall be at once impossible and +convincing. That a feat of this kind, cleverly accomplished, is +attractive to most novel readers goes without saying, and his +latest work is certain to please."</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM</h4> + +<p>THE LONG ARM. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"The Long Arm" is unlike any of Mr. Oppenheim's other popular +stories. The hero, Mannister, a powerfully drawn character, is the +victim of a cruel plot of a band of conspirators. Undaunted by the +great odds against him, he proceeds to revenge himself. The +ingenuity of device and boldness of execution of his astounding +adventures keep the reader enthralled to the very end.</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE GOVERNORS. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Globe.</span>—"'The Governors' is by Mr. E. P. Oppenheim—need more +be said to assure the reader that it is as full of ruses, politics +and sensations as heart could desire."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE MISSIONER. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Huddersfield Examiner.</span>—"We have nothing but the very highest +praise for this book. It is a remarkable success for Mr. Oppenheim +in every way. Deeply engrossing as a novel, pure in style, and +practically faultless as a literary work."</p></blockquote> + +<p>CONSPIRATORS. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Telegraph.</span>—"The author must be congratulated on having +achieved a story which is full of liveliness."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE SECRET. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Standard.</span>—"We have no hesitation in saying that this is the +finest and most absorbing story that Mr. Oppenheim has ever +written. It glows with feeling; it is curiously fertile in +character and incident, and it works its way onward to a most +remarkable climax."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A LOST LEADER. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Graphic.</span>—"Mr. Oppenheim almost persuades us into the +belief that he has really been able to break down the wall of +secrecy which always surrounds the construction of a Cabinet, and +has decided to make an exposure on the lines of a well-known +American writer. He also touches upon the evils of gambling in +Society circles in a manner which should be applauded by Father +Vaughan, and, in addition, treats us to a romance which is full of +originality and interest from first to last."</p></blockquote> + +<p>MR. WINGRAVE, MILLIONAIRE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The British Weekly.</span>—"Like good wine Mr. Oppenheim's novels need no +bush. They attract by their own charm, and are unrivalled in +popularity. No one will read this present story without relishing +the rapid succession of thrilling scenes through which his +characters move. There is a freshness and unconventionality about +the story that lends it unusual attractiveness."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A MAKER OF HISTORY. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Standard.</span>—"Those who read 'A Maker of History' will revel in +the plot, and will enjoy all those numerous deft touches of +actuality that have gone to make the story genuinely interesting +and exciting."</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span></p> + + + + +<p>THE MASTER MUMMER. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Dundee Advertiser.</span>—"It is a beautiful story that is here set +within a story. A remarkable novel such as only E. Phillips +Oppenheim can write."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE BETRAYAL. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Dundee Advertiser.</span>—"Mr. Oppenheim's skill has never been +displayed to better advantage than here.... He has excelled +himself, and to assert this is to declare the novel superior to +nine out of ten of its contemporaries."</p></blockquote> + +<p>ANNA, THE ADVENTURESS. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily News.</span>—"Mr. Oppenheim keeps his readers on the alert from +cover to cover and the story is a fascinating medley of romance and +mystery."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE YELLOW CRAYON. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Express.</span>—"Mr. Oppenheim has a vivid imagination and much +sympathy, fine powers of narrative, and can suggest a life history +in a sentence. As a painter of the rough life of mining camps, of +any strong and striking scenes where animal passions enter, he is +as good as Henry Kingsley, with whom, indeed, in many respects, he +has strong points of resemblance."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A PRINCE OF SINNERS. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Vanity Fair.</span>—"A vivid and powerful story. Mr. Oppenheim knows the +world and he can tell a tale, and the unusual nature of the setting +in which his leading characters live and work out their love story +gives this book distinction among the novels of the season."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE TRAITORS. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Athenæum.</span>—"Its interest begins on the first page and ends on +the last. The plot is ingenious and well managed, the movement of +the story is admirably swift and smooth, and the characters are +exceedingly vivacious. The reader's excitement is kept on the +stretch to the very end."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Telegraph.</span>—"We cannot but welcome with enthusiasm a +really well-told story like 'A Millionaire of Yesterday.'"</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE SURVIVOR. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Nottingham Guardian.</span>—"We must give a conspicuous place on its +merits to this excellent story. It is only necessary to read a page +or two in order to become deeply interested."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE GREAT AWAKENING. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Yorkshire Post.</span>—"A weird and fascinating story, which, for +real beauty and originality, ranks far above the ordinary novel."</p></blockquote> + +<p>AS A MAN LIVES. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Sketch.</span>—"The interest of the book, always keen and absorbing, +is due to some extent to a puzzle so admirably planned as to defy +the penetration of the most experienced novel reader."</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> + + + + +<p>A DAUGHTER OF THE MARIONIS. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Scotsman.</span>—"Mr. Oppenheim's stories always display much +melodramatic power and considerable originality and ingenuity of +construction. These and other qualities of the successful writer of +romance are manifest in 'A Daughter of the Marionis.' Full of +passion, action, strongly contrasted scenery, motives, and +situations."</p></blockquote> + +<p>MR. BERNARD BROWN. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Aberdeen Daily Journal.</span>—"The story is rich in sensational +incident and dramatic situations. It is seldom, indeed, that we +meet with a novel of such power and fascination."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE MAN AND HIS KINGDOM. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Freeman's Journal.</span>—"The story is worthy of Merriman at his +very best. It is a genuine treat for the ravenous and often +disappointed novel reader."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE WORLD'S GREAT SNARE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The World.</span>—"If engrossing interest, changing episode, deep insight +into human character and bright diction are the <i>sine quâ non</i> of a +successful novel, then this book cannot but bound at once into +popular favour. It is so full withal of so many dramatic incidents, +thoroughly exciting and realistic. There is not one dull page from +beginning to end."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A MONK OF CRUTA. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Bookman.</span>—"Intensely dramatic. The book is an achievement at +which the author may well be gratified."</p></blockquote> + +<p>MYSTERIOUS MR. SABIN. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Literary World.</span>—"As a story of interest, with a deep-laid and +exciting plot, this of the 'Mysterious Mr. Sabin' can hardly be +surpassed."</p></blockquote> + + +<h4>NORMAN INNES</h4> + +<p>MY LADY'S KISS. 6s.</p> + +<p>A Seventeenth Century Romance.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Sheffield Independent.</span>—"The book is imbued with the spirit of +the times. The story goes with a surge and a stir that makes the +blood of the reader quicken and his spirit keep pace."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE LONELY GUARD. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Dublin Daily Express.</span>—"The author is to be congratulated on this +book; it is one of the best that has come under our notice for a +considerable period. It is not only full of stirring incident, but +highly instructive as to frontier life in the Austria of Maria +Theresa's day."</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>FRED M. WHITE</h4> + +<p>THE CRIMSON BLIND. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Sheffield Telegraph.</span>—"'The Crimson Blind' is one of the most +ingeniously conceived 'detective' stories we have come across for a +long time. Each chapter holds some new and separate excitement. It +is the sort of story that one feels compelled to read at a +sitting."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE CARDINAL MOTH. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The British Weekly.</span>—"A brilliant orchid story full of imaginative +power. This is a masterpiece of construction, convincing amid its +unlikeliness, one of the best novels of the season."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE CORNER HOUSE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Western Morning News.</span>—"The book is crammed with sensation and +mystery, situation piled on situation until one is almost +bewildered. It is an excellent romance which will be eagerly read."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE WEIGHT OF THE CROWN. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Dublin Daily Express.</span>—"Mr. F. M. White is one of the princes +of fiction. A stirring tale full of the spice of adventure, +breathless in interest, skilful in narrative.... Who could refrain +from reading such a story?"</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE SLAVE OF SILENCE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Sheffield Telegraph.</span>—"Attention is arrested at the outset, and +so adroitly is the mystery handled that readers will not skip a +single page."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A FATAL DOSE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Standard.</span>—"This novel will rank amongst the brightest that Mr. +White has given us."</p></blockquote> + +<p>CRAVEN FORTUNE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Daily Telegraph.</span>—"A tale of extraordinary complexity, ingeniously +conceived, and worked out to a conventionally happy conclusion, +through a series of strange and thrilling situations, which command +and hold the reader's attention to the end."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE LAW OF THE LAND. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Daily Telegraph.</span>—"Mr. White's new novel may be strongly +recommended. It contains enough surprises to whip the interest at +every turn."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A CRIME ON CANVAS. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p>This is a story of mysterious crime and it is interesting to recall +that when published serially prizes were offered to the readers who +guessed the solution of the many mysteries divulged in the +development of the story. It is a deeply engrossing tale.</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>JUSTUS MILES FORMAN</h4> + +<p>JOURNEY'S END. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Court Journal.</span>—"Surprisingly fresh, abounding in touches of +observation and sentiment, while the characters are drawn with +exceptional skill, the 'red-haired young woman' being a haunting +figure."</p></blockquote> + +<p>MONSIGNY. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Telegraph.</span>—"The novel is admirable, the idea is very +cleverly worked out, and is of an interesting character. The book +is worthy of much praise."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE GARDEN OF LIES. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily News.</span>—"This novel is far in advance of anything that Mr. +Forman has hitherto accomplished. 'The Garden of Lies' belongs to +that class of story which touches the heart from the first. It +contains scenes which are alive with real passion, passages that +will stir the blood of the coldest, and whole chapters charged with +a magic and a charm. It is a real romance, full of vigour and a +clean, healthy life."</p></blockquote> + +<p>TOMMY CARTERET. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Chronicle.</span>—"This is a fine book, thoroughly fine from +start to finish. We willingly place our full store of compliments +on Mr. Forman's splendid and successful book."</p></blockquote> + +<p>BUCHANAN'S WIFE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Telegraph.</span>—"'Buchanan's Wife' may be regarded as another +success for an already successful author. It contains all the +elements to attract, and is written in such a graceful manner that +the reader is held delighted and enthralled to the end."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A MODERN ULYSSES. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">People's Saturday Journal.</span>—"Full of exciting incidents handled in +a bright, crisp style."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE QUEST. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p>A tense, emotional and romantic drama, surpassing in interest even +that notably successful novel and play "The Garden of Lies" by the +same author.</p></blockquote> + + +<h4>HAROLD BINDLOSS</h4> + +<p>THE LIBERATIONIST 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Morning Leader.</span>—"This is the author's best novel, and is one which +no lover of healthy excitement ought to miss."</p></blockquote> + +<p>HAWTREY'S DEPUTY. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p>The action of this novel once again takes place in Canada—a +country he has made especially his own—and in this story is a plot +of quite unusual power and interest.</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>LOUIS TRACY</h4> + +<p>A FATAL LEGACY. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Scotsman.</span>—"In all the annals of fiction a more ingenious or +startlingly original plot has not been recorded."</p></blockquote> + +<p>RAINBOW ISLAND. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Literary World.</span>—"Those who delight in tales of adventure +should hail 'Rainbow Island' with joyous shouts of welcome. Rarely +have we met with more satisfying fare of this description than in +its pages."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE ALBERT GATE AFFAIR. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Birmingham Post.</span>—"will Worthily Rank With 'the Fatal Legacy' +And 'rainbow Island' Both Books Full of Wholesome Excitement and +Told With Great Ability. The Present Volume Is an Excellent +Detective Tale, Brimful of Adventure. Told in Mr. Tracy's Best +Style."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE PILLAR OF LIGHT. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Evening Standard.</span>—"so Admirable, So Living, So Breathlessly +Exciting a Book. The Magnificent Realism of the Lighthouse and Its +Perils, The Intense Conviction of the Author, That Brings the Very +Scene He Pictures Before the Reader's Eyes With Hardly a Line of +Detached Description, The Interest of the Terrible Dilemma of the +Cut-off Inhabitants of the 'pillar' Are Worthy of Praise From the +Most Jaded Reader."</p></blockquote> + +<p>HEART'S DELIGHT. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Dundee Advertiser.</span>—"The name of Louis Tracy on the cover of a +volume is a sufficient guarantee that the contents are worthy of +perusal. His latest novel, 'Heart's Delight,' establishes more +firmly than ever the reputation which he founded on 'The Final +War'; like that notable book it has a strong martial flavour."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE WHEEL O' FORTUNE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Publisher's Circular.</span>—"Conan Doyle's successor, Louis Tracy, +has all the logical acuteness of the inventor of Sherlock Holmes +without his occasional exaggeration."</p></blockquote> + +<p>FENNELLS' TOWER. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">North Devon Journal.</span>—"An absorbing tale of love and crime from the +clever pen of Louis Tracy. The secret of the crime which forms the +basis of the plot is most skilfully covered, and the solution is a +genuine surprise."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE SILENT BARRIER. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"The Silent Barrier" is a breezy romance of love and adventure in +Switzerland, comparable to an adventure story by the late Guy +Boothby.</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>SIR Wm. MAGNAY, Bart.</h4> + +<p>THE RED CHANCELLOR. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Lloyd's News.</span>—"A story full of action, with its characters +strongly drawn. Adventure and hairbreadth escapes abound; the style +is refreshingly crisp, and the book altogether is one that can be +most heartily recommended."</p></blockquote> + +<p>FAUCONBERG. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Field.</span>—"The book has a grip, and should be a success. The +ultimate fate of Fauconberg is always in doubt from the beginning +to the unexpected ending."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE MASTER SPIRIT. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Court Journal</span>.—"A capital story. The intensely interesting +situation is developed with much ingenuity and power.... A really +fascinating novel."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE MYSTERY OF THE UNICORN. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Glasgow Herald.</span>—"This work illustrates the author's dexterity +in plot-construction, his skill in setting appropriate dialogue, +and the facility with which he is able to develop and embellish an +engaging narrative."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE PITFALL. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">People's Saturday Journal.</span>—"In 'The Pitfall,' Sir Wm. Magnay has +given to the world his best work, for not only is the story of an +engrossing character, but it has the virtue of being completely off +the beaten track."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE RED STAIN. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Dundee Courier.</span>—"One cannot but admire the adroit manner in +which the author continues the mystery; how he eventually +straightens things out is quite clever, and well worth reading."</p></blockquote> + + +<h4>HEADON HILL</h4> + +<p>THE HIDDEN VICTIM. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Aberdeen Journal.</span>—"To those who revel in sensational fiction, +marked by literary skill as well as audacity and fertility of +invention, this story can be confidently commended."</p></blockquote> + +<p>RADFORD SHONE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Dundee Advertiser.</span>—"I recall 'The Hidden Victim' as one of the +best of Mr. Hill's books, and alongside it I shall now put 'Radford +Shone.'"</p></blockquote> + +<p>HER SPLENDID SIN. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Perthshire Courier.</span>—"Headon Hill gives us good reading with plenty +of thrilling incident. He has never told an intensely absorbing +story with more dramatic directness than this one. The story is +admirably written, the interest never flagging."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A TRAITOR'S WOOING. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p>A splendid story which will be much liked by readers who care for +"A Woman in White" and similar stories.</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h4><a name="GUY_BOOTHBY" id="GUY_BOOTHBY"></a>GUY BOOTHBY</h4> + + +<p>THE RACE OF LIFE. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The English Review.</span>—"Ahead even of Mr. Cutcliffe Hyne and Sir +Conan Doyle, Mr. Boothby may be said to have topped popularity's +pole."</p></blockquote> + +<p>FOR LOVE OF HER. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Court Journal.</span>—"This book shows vivid imagination and dramatic +power. Moreover, sketches of Australian life, from one who knows +his subject, are always welcome."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE CRIME OF THE UNDER SEAS. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Speaker.</span>—"Is quite the equal in art, observation, and dramatic +intensity to any of Mr. Guy Boothby's numerous other romances, and +is in every respect most typical of his powers."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A BID FOR FREEDOM. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Sheffield Telegraph.</span>—"As fascinating as any of its +forerunners, and is as finely handled. A fully written romance, +which bristles with thrilling passages, exciting adventures, and +hairbreadth escapes."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A TWO-FOLD INHERITANCE. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Punch.</span>—"Just the very book that a hard-working man should read for +genuine relaxation. This novel is strongly recommended by the +justly appreciating 'Baron de Bookworms.'"</p></blockquote> + +<p>CONNIE BURY. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Birmingham Gazette.</span>—"One of the best stories we have seen of +Mr. Boothby's."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE KIDNAPPED PRESIDENT. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Public Opinion.</span>—"Brighter, crisper, and more entertaining than any +of its predecessors from the same pen."</p></blockquote> + +<p>MY STRANGEST CASE. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Yorkshire Post.</span>—"No work of Mr. Boothby's seems to us to have +approached in skill his new story. The reader's attention is from +first to last riveted on the narrative."</p></blockquote> + +<p>FAREWELL, NIKOLA. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Dundee Advertiser.</span>—"Guy Boothby's famous creation of Dr. +Nikola has become familiar to every reader of fiction."</p></blockquote> + +<p>MY INDIAN QUEEN. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Sunday Special.</span>—"A vivid story of adventure and daring, +bearing all the characteristics of careful workmanship."</p></blockquote> + +<p>LONG LIVE THE KING. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Aberdeen Free Press.</span>—"It is marvellous that Mr. Boothby's +novels should all be so uniformly good."</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p> + +<p>A PRINCE OF SWINDLERS. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Scotsman.</span>—"Of absorbing interest. The exploits are described +in an enthralling vein."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A MAKER OF NATIONS. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Spectator.</span>—"'A Maker of Nations' enables us to understand Mr. +Boothby's vogue. It has no lack of movement or incident."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE RED RAT'S DAUGHTER. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Telegraph.</span>—"Mr. Guy Boothby's name on the title-page of +a novel carries with it the assurance of a good story to follow."</p></blockquote> + +<p>LOVE MADE MANIFEST. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Telegraph.</span>—"A powerful and impressive romance. One of +those tales of exciting adventure in the confection of which Mr. +Boothby is not excelled by any novelist of the day."</p></blockquote> + +<p>PHAROS THE EGYPTIAN. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Scotsman.</span>—"This powerful novel is weird, wonderful, and +soul-thrilling. There never was in this world so strange and +wonderful a love story."</p></blockquote> + +<p>ACROSS THE WORLD FOR A WIFE. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The British Weekly.</span>—"This stirring tale ranks next to 'Dr. Nikola' +in the list of Mr. Boothby's novels. It is an excellent piece of +workmanship, and we can heartily recommend it."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A SAILOR'S BRIDE. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Manchester Courier.</span>—"Few authors can depict action as +brilliantly and resourcefully as the creator of 'Dr. Nikola.'"</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE LUST OF HATE. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Graphic.</span>—"Mr. Boothby gives place to no one in what +might be called dramatic interest, so whoever wants dramatic +interest let him read 'The Lust of Hate.'"</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE FASCINATION OF THE KING. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Bristol Mercury.</span>—"Unquestionably the best work we have yet +seen from the pen of Mr. Guy Boothby.... 'The Fascination of the +King' is one of the books of the season."</p></blockquote> + +<p>DR. NIKOLA. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Scotsman.</span>—"One hairbreadth escape succeeds another with +rapidity that scarce leaves the reader breathing space.... A story +ingeniously invented and skilfully told."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE DEVIL. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Yorkshire Post.</span>—"A more exciting romance no man could +reasonably ask for."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A BID FOR FORTUNE. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Manchester Courier.</span>—"It is impossible to give any idea of the +<i>verve</i> and brightness with which the story is told. The most +original novel of the year."</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p> + +<p>IN STRANGE COMPANY. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The World.</span>—"A capital novel. It has the quality of life and stir, +and will carry the reader with curiosity unabated to the end."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE MARRIAGE OF ESTHER. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Manchester Guardian.</span>—"A story full of action, life, and +dramatic interest. There is a vigour and a power of illusion about +it that raises it quite above the level of the ordinary novel of +adventure."</p></blockquote> + +<p>BUSHIGRAMS. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Manchester Guardian.</span>—"Intensely interesting. Forces from us, +by its powerful artistic realism, those choky sensations which it +should be the aim of the human writer to elicit, whether in comedy +or tragedy."</p></blockquote> + +<p>SHEILAH McLEOD. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Mr. W. L. Alden</span> in <span class="smcap">The New York Times</span>.—"Mr. Boothby can crowd more +adventure into a square foot of canvas than any other novelist."</p></blockquote> + +<p>DR. NIKOLA'S EXPERIMENT. 5s.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Illustrated by Sidney Cowell.</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE MAN OF THE CRAG. 5s.</p> + + +<h3>ARTHUR W. MARCHMONT</h3> + +<p>WHEN I WAS CZAR. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Freeman's Journal.</span>—"A very brilliant work, every page in it +displays the dramatic talent of the author and his capacity for +writing smart dialogue."</p></blockquote> + +<p>BY SNARE OF LOVE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Outlook.</span>—"As a writer of political intrigue, Mr. Marchmont has +scarcely a rival to-day, and his latest novel worthily upholds his +reputation."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE QUEEN'S ADVOCATE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Liverpool Courier.</span>—"Mr. Marchmont is at his best in this tale. +One has sometimes wondered in reading this author's works when his +invention will give out. But his resource seems inexhaustible, and +his spirits never flag."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A COURIER OF FORTUNE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Dundee Courier.</span>—"A most thrilling and romantic tale of France, +which has the advantage of being exciting and fascinating without +being too improbable."</p></blockquote> + +<p>BY WIT OF WOMAN. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Leicester Post.</span>—"The novel rivets the deep interest of the +reader, and holds it spellbound to the end."</p></blockquote> + +<p>IN THE CAUSE OF FREEDOM. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Telegraph.</span>—"A well-sustained and thrilling narrative."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE LITTLE ANARCHIST. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Scotsman.</span>—"A romance brimful of incident and arousing in the +reader a healthy interest that carries him along with never a +pause—a vigorous story with elements that fascinate."</p></blockquote> + +<p>AN IMPERIAL MARRIAGE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p>A tale of Continental intrigue in its author's best and most +original vein.</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>JOSEPH HOCKING</h4> + +<p>ROGER TREWINION. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">T. P.'s Weekly.</span>—"It is a foregone conclusion that Mr. Hocking will +always have a good story to tell. 'Roger Trewinion' can stand forth +with the best, a strong love interest, plenty of adventure, an +atmosphere of superstition, and Cornwall as the scene."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE COMING OF THE KING. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Glasgow Herald.</span>—"Mr. Hocking's latest romance exhibits no +dimunution of ability, and is marked by insight and dramatic power. +His imagination is fertile, and his skill in the arrangement of +incident far above the average, and there is an air of reality in +all his writing which is peculiarly charming."</p></blockquote> + +<p>EASU. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Outlook.</span>—"Remarkable for the dramatic power with which the +scenes are drawn and the intense human interest which Mr. Hocking +has woven about his characters. 'Easu' is sure to be one of the +novels of the season."</p></blockquote> + +<p>GREATER LOVE. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Newcastle Chronicle.</span>—"Though of a totally different character +from 'Lest We Forget,' Mr. Hocking's latest story is entitled to +take rank along with that fine romance. The story arrests the +attention from the first chapters, and soon becomes highly +dramatic."</p></blockquote> + +<p>LEST WE FORGET. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Public Opinion.</span>—"His story is quite as good as any we have read of +the Stanley Weyman's school, and presents an excellent picture of +the exciting times of Gardiner and Bonner."</p></blockquote> + +<p>AND SHALL TRELAWNEY DIE? 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Weekly Sun.</span>—"An engaging and fascinating romance. The reader +puts the story down with a sigh, and wishes there were more of +these breezy Cornish uplands, for Mr. Joseph Hocking's easy style +of narrative does not soon tire."</p></blockquote> + +<p>JABEZ EASTERBROOK. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Rock.</span>—"Real strength is shown in the sketches, of which that +of Brother Bowman is most prominent. In its way it is delightful."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE WEAPONS OF MYSTERY. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Weapons of Mystery" is a singularly powerful story of occult +influences and of their exertion for evil purposes. A tale which it +is not easy to put down when once commenced.</p></blockquote> + +<p>ZILLAH: A ROMANCE. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Spectator.</span>—"The drawing of some of the characters indicates +the possession by Mr. Hocking of a considerable gift of humour. The +contents of his book indicate that he takes a genuine interest in +the deeper problems of the day."</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p> + +<p>THE MONK OF MAR-SABA. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Star.</span>—"Great power and thrilling interest.... The scenery of +the Holy Land has rarely been so vividly described as in this +charming book of Mr. Hocking's."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE PURPLE ROBE. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Queen.</span>—"Mr. Hocking's most interesting romance. It is +exceedingly clever, and excites the reader's interest and brings +out the powerful nature of the clever young minister. This most +engrossing book challenges comparison with the brilliance of +Lothair."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE SCARLET WOMAN. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Methodist Recorder.</span>—"This is Mr. Hocking's strongest and best +book. We advise every one to read it. The plot is simple, compact +and strenuous; the writing powerful. It brings out sharply the real +character of the typical Jesuit, his training, motives, +limitations, aims."</p></blockquote> + +<p>ALL MEN ARE LIARS. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Christian World.</span>—"This is a notable book. Thoughtful people +will be fascinated by its actuality, its fearlessness, and the +insight it gives into the influence of modern thought and +literature upon the minds and morals of our most promising +manhood."</p></blockquote> + +<p>ISHMAEL PENGELLY: AN OUTCAST. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Athenæum.</span>—"The book is to be recommended for the dramatic +effectiveness of some of the scenes. The wild, half-mad woman is +always picturesque wherever she appears, and the rare +self-repression of her son is admirably done."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE STORY OF ANDREW FAIRFAX. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Manchester Examiner.</span>—"Rustic scenes and characters are drawn +with free, broad touches, without Mr. Buchanan's artificiality, +and, if we may venture to say it, with more realism than Mr. +Hardy's country pictures."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE BIRTHRIGHT. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Spectator.</span>—"This volume proves beyond all doubt that Mr. +Hocking has mastered the art of the historical romancist. 'The +Birthright' is, in its way, quite as well constructed, as well +written, and as full of incident as any story that has come from +the pen of Mr. Conan Doyle or Mr. Stanley Weyman."</p></blockquote> + +<p>MISTRESS NANCY MOLESWORTH. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Scotsman.</span>—"'Mistress Nancy Molesworth' is as charming a story +of the kind as could be wished, and it excels in literary +workmanship as well as in imaginative vigour and daring invention."</p></blockquote> + +<p>FIELDS OF FAIR RENOWN. 3s. 6d.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Dundee Advertiser.</span>—"Mr. Hocking has produced a work which his +readers of all classes will appreciate.... There are exhibited some +of the most beautiful aspects of disposition."</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>L. G. MOBERLY</h4> + +<p>THAT PREPOSTEROUS WILL. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Graphic.</span>—"We could wish that every novel were as +pleasant, unsophisticated and readable as this one."</p></blockquote> + +<p>HOPE, MY WIFE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Gentlewoman.</span>—"Miss Moberly interests us so much in heroine, +and in her hero, that we follow the two with pleasure through +adventures of the most improbable order."</p></blockquote> + +<p>DIANA. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Scotsman.</span>—"So cleverly handled as to keep its interest always +lively and stimulating; and the book cannot fail to be enjoyed."</p></blockquote> + +<p>DAN—AND ANOTHER. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily News.</span>—"Must be considered one of the best pieces of work +that Miss Moberly has yet produced."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A TANGLED WEB. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Mail.</span>—"A 'tangled web,' indeed, is this story, and the +author's ingenuity and intrepidity in developing and working out +the mystery calls for recognition at the outset."</p></blockquote> + +<p>ANGELA'S MARRIAGE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Irish Independent.</span>—"That Miss Moberly has a delightful and +graceful style is not only evident from a perusal of some of her +former works, but from the fascinatingly told story now under +review."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE SIN OF ALISON DERING. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Miss L. G. Moberly is making a big reputation for herself as a +writer of strong emotional stories, and this story will add +considerably to her popularity.</p></blockquote> + + +<h4>GUY THORNE</h4> + +<p>FIRST IT WAS ORDAINED. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Pall Mall Gazette</span> says:—"'First it was Ordained' is a long way +ahead of 'When it was Dark.' Mr. Guy Thorne has the gift of the +great orator or preacher in holding your attention."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE ANGEL. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Dundee Advertiser.</span>—"Another of those daringly original, graphic, +and popularly influential stories that Guy Thorne loves to write. +Both as a story and as an argument for the reality of the spiritual +in men and affairs, it is strong and persuasive."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE SOCIALIST. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p>The subject of his new novel is indicated by its title, and the +story is one likely to attract enormous attention, and be +everywhere discussed.</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>ARCHIBALD EYRE</h4> + +<p>THE TRIFLER. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Express.</span>—"A most cleverly contrived farcical comedy, +full of really fresh incidents, and a dialogue that is genuinely +amusing; there is not a character who is not always welcome and +full of entertainment."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE CUSTODIAN. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Morning Post.</span>—"An exceptionally clever and entertaining novel; +the reader is compelled to finish the book when he has once taken +it up.... It is impossible to resist its attractions."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE GIRL IN WAITING. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Mail.</span>—"This is quite a delightful book. The note is +struck ingeniously and hilariously on the doorstep. It is a most +enjoyable comedy, which must be read to be appreciated. We can +cordially recommend it."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE LEADING LADY. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Daily Express.</span>—"A good stirring, moving novel, one which retains +the attention and compels a sustained interest. It is a good book."</p></blockquote> + + +<h4>CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS</h4> + +<p>THE HOUSE IN THE WATER. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Press</span> says:—"As a writer about animals, Mr. Roberts occupies +an enviable place. He is the most literary, as well as the most +imaginative and vivid, of all the nature writers.</p> + +<p>"Poet Laureate of the Animal World, Professor Roberts displays the +keenest powers of observation closely interwoven with a fine +imaginative discretion."</p></blockquote> + +<p>KINGS IN EXILE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Another beautifully illustrated volume of nature and animal +stories, in the writing of which the author is without a compeer.</p></blockquote> + + +<h4>MARIE CONNOR LEIGHTON</h4> + +<p>SEALED LIPS. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Daily Express.</span>—"An excellent story, well constructed, and the +interest is kept going till the last page."</p></blockquote> + +<p>PUT YOURSELF IN HER PLACE. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">The Sheffield Daily Telegraph.</span>—"Marie Connor Leighton is well +known as the authoress of 'Convict 99,' and in her latest work she +presents a novel equal to anything her pen has written. Many +dramatic incidents are introduced, and the work may be safely +recommended as containing all the elements of a successful novel."</p></blockquote> + +<p>MONEY. 6s.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"For what shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world +and lose his own soul?" This is the keynote of this stirring novel +by the author of "Convict 99."</p></blockquote></div> + +<p class="center">Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Traitor's Wooing, by Headon Hill + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TRAITOR'S WOOING *** + +***** This file should be named 33453-h.htm or 33453-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/4/5/33453/ + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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