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diff --git a/34732-h/34732-h.htm b/34732-h/34732-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0f46afa --- /dev/null +++ b/34732-h/34732-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8360 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 25 March 2009), see www.w3.org" /> +<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 Max Carrados, by Ernest +Bramah</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; +} +p.alignright { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: right; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} +.center { + text-align: center; +} +.smcap { + font-variant: small-caps; +} +.u { + text-decoration: underline; +} +.toc_chapter { + text-align: center; +} +.padtop { + padding-top: 3em; +} +.printersnote { + padding-top: 3em; + padding-bottom: 3em; + text-align: center; +} +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Max Carrados, by Ernest Bramah + +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: Max Carrados + +Author: Ernest Bramah + +Release Date: December 23, 2010 [EBook #34732] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAX CARRADOS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Megan Miller and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<h1><a name="MAX_CARRADOS" id="MAX_CARRADOS">MAX CARRADOS</a></h1> +<h2>By Ernest Bramah</h2> +<h3 class="padtop">Methuen & Co., Ltd.</h3> +<h3>1914</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> +<p class="toc_chapter"><span class="smcap"><a href= +"#THE_COIN_OF_DIONYSIUS">The Coin of Dionysius</a></span></p> +<p class="toc_chapter"><span class="smcap"><a href= +"#THE_KNIGHT8217S_CROSS_SIGNAL_PROBLEM">The Knight’s Cross +Signal Problem</a></span></p> +<p class="toc_chapter"><span class="smcap"><a href= +"#THE_TRAGEDY_AT_BROOKBEND_COTTAGE">The Tragedy at Brookbend +Cottage</a></span></p> +<p class="toc_chapter"><span class="smcap"><a href= +"#THE_CLEVER_MRS_STRAITHWAITE">The Clever Mrs +Straithwaite</a></span></p> +<p class="toc_chapter"><span class="smcap"><a href= +"#THE_LAST_EXPLOIT_OF_HARRY_THE_ACTOR">The Last Exploit of Harry +the Actor</a></span></p> +<p class="toc_chapter"><span class="smcap"><a href= +"#THE_TILLING_SHAW_MYSTERY">The Tilling Shaw Mystery</a></span></p> +<p class="toc_chapter"><span class="smcap"><a href= +"#THE_COMEDY_AT_FOUNTAIN_COTTAGE">The Comedy at Fountain +Cottage</a></span></p> +<p class="toc_chapter"><span class="smcap"><a href= +"#THE_COMEDY_AT_FOUNTAIN_COTTAGE">The Game played in the +Dark</a></span></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MAX CARRADOS</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_COIN_OF_DIONYSIUS" id= +"THE_COIN_OF_DIONYSIUS"></a>THE COIN OF DIONYSIUS</h2> +<p>It was eight o’clock at night and raining, scarcely a time +when a business so limited in its clientele as that of a coin +dealer could hope to attract any customer, but a light was still +showing in the small shop that bore over its window the name of +Baxter, and in the even smaller office at the back the proprietor +himself sat reading the latest <i>Pall Mall</i>. His enterprise +seemed to be justified, for presently the door bell gave its +announcement, and throwing down his paper Mr Baxter went +forward.</p> +<p>As a matter of fact the dealer had been expecting someone and +his manner as he passed into the shop was unmistakably suggestive +of a caller of importance. But at the first glance towards his +visitor the excess of deference melted out of his bearing, leaving +the urbane, self-possessed shopman in the presence of the casual +customer.</p> +<p>“Mr Baxter, I think?” said the latter. He had laid +aside his dripping umbrella and was unbuttoning overcoat and coat +to reach an inner pocket. “You hardly remember me, I suppose? +Mr Carlyle—two years ago I took up a case for +you——”</p> +<p>“To be sure. Mr Carlyle, the private +detective——”</p> +<p>“Inquiry agent,” corrected Mr Carlyle precisely.</p> +<p>“Well,” smiled Mr Baxter, “for that matter I +am a coin dealer and not an antiquarian or a numismatist. Is there +anything in that way that I can do for you?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” replied his visitor; “it is my turn to +consult you.” He had taken a small wash-leather bag from the +inner pocket and now turned something carefully out upon the +counter. “What can you tell me about that?”</p> +<p>The dealer gave the coin a moment’s scrutiny.</p> +<p>“There is no question about this,” he replied. +“It is a Sicilian tetradrachm of Dionysius.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I know that—I have it on the label out of the +cabinet. I can tell you further that it’s supposed to be one +that Lord Seastoke gave two hundred and fifty pounds for at the +Brice sale in ‘‘94.”</p> +<p>“It seems to me that you can tell me more about it than I +can tell you,” remarked Mr Baxter. “What is it that you +really want to know?”</p> +<p>“I want to know,” replied Mr Carlyle, “whether +it is genuine or not.”</p> +<p>“Has any doubt been cast upon it?”</p> +<p>“Certain circumstances raised a suspicion—that is +all.”</p> +<p>The dealer took another look at the tetradrachm through his +magnifying glass, holding it by the edge with the careful touch of +an expert. Then he shook his head slowly in a confession of +ignorance.</p> +<p>“Of course I could make a guess——”</p> +<p>“No, don’t,” interrupted Mr Carlyle hastily. +“An arrest hangs on it and nothing short of certainty is any +good to me.”</p> +<p>“Is that so, Mr Carlyle?” said Mr Baxter, with +increased interest. “Well, to be quite candid, the thing is +out of my line. Now if it was a rare Saxon penny or a doubtful +noble I’d stake my reputation on my opinion, but I do very +little in the classical series.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle did not attempt to conceal his disappointment as he +returned the coin to the bag and replaced the bag in the inner +pocket.</p> +<p>“I had been relying on you,” he grumbled +reproachfully. “Where on earth am I to go now?”</p> +<p>“There is always the British Museum.”</p> +<p>“Ah, to be sure, thanks. But will anyone who can tell me +be there now?”</p> +<p>“Now? No fear!” replied Mr Baxter. “Go round +in the morning——”</p> +<p>“But I must know to-night,” explained the visitor, +reduced to despair again. “To-morrow will be too late for the +purpose.”</p> +<p>Mr Baxter did not hold out much encouragement in the +circumstances.</p> +<p>“You can scarcely expect to find anyone at business +now,” he remarked. “I should have been gone these two +hours myself only I happened to have an appointment with an +American millionaire who fixed his own time.” Something +indistinguishable from a wink slid off Mr Baxter’s right eye. +“Offmunson he’s called, and a bright young +pedigree-hunter has traced his descent from Offa, King of Mercia. +So he—quite naturally—wants a set of Offas as a sort of +collateral proof.”</p> +<p>“Very interesting,” murmured Mr Carlyle, fidgeting +with his watch. “I should love an hour’s chat with you +about your millionaire customers—some other time. Just +now—look here, Baxter, can’t you give me a line of +introduction to some dealer in this sort of thing who happens to +live in town? You must know dozens of experts.”</p> +<p>“Why, bless my soul, Mr Carlyle, I don’t know a man +of them away from his business,” said Mr Baxter, staring. +“They may live in Park Lane or they may live in Petticoat +Lane for all I know. Besides, there aren’t so many experts as +you seem to imagine. And the two best will very likely quarrel over +it. You’ve had to do with ‘expert witnesses,’ I +suppose?”</p> +<p>“I don’t want a witness; there will be no need to +give evidence. All I want is an absolutely authoritative +pronouncement that I can act on. Is there no one who can really say +whether the thing is genuine or not?”</p> +<p>Mr Baxter’s meaning silence became cynical in its +implication as he continued to look at his visitor across the +counter. Then he relaxed.</p> +<p>“Stay a bit; there is a man—an amateur—I +remember hearing wonderful things about some time ago. They say he +really does know.”</p> +<p>“There you are,” exclaimed Mr Carlyle, much +relieved. “There always is someone. Who is he?”</p> +<p>“Funny name,” replied Baxter. “Something Wynn +or Wynn something.” He craned his neck to catch sight of an +important motor car that was drawing to the kerb before his window. +“Wynn Carrados! You’ll excuse me now, Mr Carlyle, +won’t you? This looks like Mr Offmunson.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle hastily scribbled the name down on his cuff.</p> +<p>“Wynn Carrados, right. Where does he live?”</p> +<p>“Haven’t the remotest idea,” replied Baxter, +referring the arrangement of his tie to the judgment of the wall +mirror. “I have never seen the man myself. Now, Mr Carlyle, +I’m sorry I can’t do any more for you. You won’t +mind, will you?”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle could not pretend to misunderstand. He enjoyed the +distinction of holding open the door for the transatlantic +representative of the line of Offa as he went out, and then made +his way through the muddy streets back to his office. There was +only one way of tracing a private individual at such short +notice—through the pages of the directories, and the +gentleman did not flatter himself by a very high estimate of his +chances.</p> +<p>Fortune favoured him, however. He very soon discovered a Wynn +Carrados living at Richmond, and, better still, further search +failed to unearth another. There was, apparently, only one +householder at all events of that name in the neighbourhood of +London. He jotted down the address and set out for Richmond.</p> +<p>The house was some distance from the station, Mr Carlyle +learned. He took a taxicab and drove, dismissing the vehicle at the +gate. He prided himself on his power of observation and the +accuracy of the deductions which resulted from it—a detail of +his business. “It’s nothing more than using one’s +eyes and putting two and two together,” he would modestly +declare, when he wished to be deprecatory rather than impressive, +and by the time he had reached the front door of “The +Turrets” he had formed some opinion of the position and +tastes of the man who lived there.</p> +<p>A man-servant admitted Mr Carlyle and took in his card—his +private card with the bare request for an interview that would not +detain Mr Carrados for ten minutes. Luck still favoured him; Mr +Carrados was at home and would see him at once. The servant, the +hall through which they passed, and the room into which he was +shown, all contributed something to the deductions which the +quietly observant gentleman was half unconsciously recording.</p> +<p>“Mr Carlyle,” announced the servant.</p> +<p>The room was a library or study. The only occupant, a man of +about Carlyle’s own age, had been using a typewriter up to +the moment of his visitor’s entrance. He now turned and stood +up with an expression of formal courtesy.</p> +<p>“It’s very good of you to see me at this +hour,” apologized the caller.</p> +<p>The conventional expression of Mr Carrados’s face changed +a little.</p> +<p>“Surely my man has got your name wrong?” he +exclaimed. “Isn’t it Louis Calling?”</p> +<p>The visitor stopped short and his agreeable smile gave place to +a sudden flash of anger or annoyance.</p> +<p>“No, sir,” he replied stiffly. “My name is on +the card which you have before you.”</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon,” said Mr Carrados, with perfect +good-humour. “I hadn’t seen it. But I used to know a +Calling some years ago—at St Michael’s.”</p> +<p>“St Michael’s!” Mr Carlyle’s features +underwent another change, no less instant and sweeping than before. +“St Michael’s! Wynn Carrados? Good heavens! it +isn’t Max Wynn—old ‘Winning’ +Wynn?”</p> +<p>“A little older and a little fatter—yes,” +replied Carrados. “I <i>have</i> changed my name, you +see.”</p> +<p>“Extraordinary thing meeting like this,” said his +visitor, dropping into a chair and staring hard at Mr Carrados. +“I have changed more than my name. How did you recognize +me?”</p> +<p>“The voice,” replied Carrados. “It took me +back to that little smoke-dried attic den of yours where +we——”</p> +<p>“My God!” exclaimed Carlyle bitterly, +“don’t remind me of what we were going to do in those +days.” He looked round the well-furnished, handsome room and +recalled the other signs of wealth that he had noticed. “At +all events, you seem fairly comfortable, Wynn.”</p> +<p>“I am alternately envied and pitied,” replied +Carrados, with a placid tolerance of circumstance that seemed +characteristic of him. “Still, as you say, I am fairly +comfortable.”</p> +<p>“Envied, I can understand. But why are you +pitied?”</p> +<p>“Because I am blind,” was the tranquil reply.</p> +<p>“Blind!” exclaimed Mr Carlyle, using his own eyes +superlatively. “Do you mean—literally blind?”</p> +<p>“Literally.... I was riding along a bridle-path through a +wood about a dozen years ago with a friend. He was in front. At one +point a twig sprang back—you know how easily a thing like +that happens. It just flicked my eye—nothing to think twice +about.”</p> +<p>“And that blinded you?”</p> +<p>“Yes, ultimately. It’s called amaurosis.”</p> +<p>“I can scarcely believe it. You seem so sure and +self-reliant. Your eyes are full of expression—only a little +quieter than they used to be. I believe you were typing when I +came.... Aren’t you having me?”</p> +<p>“You miss the dog and the stick?” smiled Carrados. +“No; it’s a fact.”</p> +<p>“What an awful infliction for you, Max. You were always +such an impulsive, reckless sort of fellow—never quiet. You +must miss such a fearful lot.”</p> +<p>“Has anyone else recognized you?” asked Carrados +quietly.</p> +<p>“Ah, that was the voice, you said,” replied +Carlyle.</p> +<p>“Yes; but other people heard the voice as well. Only I had +no blundering, self-confident eyes to be hoodwinked.”</p> +<p>“That’s a rum way of putting it,” said +Carlyle. “Are your ears never hoodwinked, may I +ask?”</p> +<p>“Not now. Nor my fingers. Nor any of my other senses that +have to look out for themselves.”</p> +<p>“Well, well,” murmured Mr Carlyle, cut short in his +sympathetic emotions. “I’m glad you take it so well. Of +course, if you find it an advantage to be blind, old +man——” He stopped and reddened. “I beg your +pardon,” he concluded stiffly.</p> +<p>“Not an advantage perhaps,” replied the other +thoughtfully. “Still it has compensations that one might not +think of. A new world to explore, new experiences, new powers +awakening; strange new perceptions; life in the fourth dimension. +But why do you beg my pardon, Louis?”</p> +<p>“I am an ex-solicitor, struck off in connexion with the +falsifying of a trust account, Mr Carrados,” replied Carlyle, +rising.</p> +<p>“Sit down, Louis,” said Carrados suavely. His face, +even his incredibly living eyes, beamed placid good-nature. +“The chair on which you will sit, the roof above you, all the +comfortable surroundings to which you have so amiably alluded, are +the direct result of falsifying a trust account. But do I call you +‘Mr Carlyle’ in consequence? Certainly not, +Louis.”</p> +<p>“I did not falsify the account,” cried Carlyle +hotly. He sat down, however, and added more quietly: “But why +do I tell you all this? I have never spoken of it +before.”</p> +<p>“Blindness invites confidence,” replied Carrados. +“We are out of the running—human rivalry ceases to +exist. Besides, why shouldn’t you? In my case the account +<i>was</i> falsified.”</p> +<p>“Of course that’s all bunkum, Max,” commented +Carlyle. “Still, I appreciate your motive.”</p> +<p>“Practically everything I possess was left to me by an +American cousin, on the condition that I took the name of Carrados. +He made his fortune by an ingenious conspiracy of doctoring the +crop reports and unloading favourably in consequence. And I need +hardly remind you that the receiver is equally guilty with the +thief.”</p> +<p>“But twice as safe. I know something of that, Max.... Have +you any idea what my business is?”</p> +<p>“You shall tell me,” replied Carrados.</p> +<p>“I run a private inquiry agency. When I lost my profession +I had to do something for a living. This occurred. I dropped my +name, changed my appearance and opened an office. I knew the legal +side down to the ground and I got a retired Scotland Yard man to +organize the outside work.”</p> +<p>“Excellent!” cried Carrados. “Do you unearth +many murders?”</p> +<p>“No,” admitted Mr Carlyle; “our business lies +mostly on the conventional lines among divorce and +defalcation.”</p> +<p>“That’s a pity,” remarked Carrados. “Do +you know, Louis, I always had a secret ambition to be a detective +myself. I have even thought lately that I might still be able to do +something at it if the chance came my way. That makes you +smile?”</p> +<p>“Well, certainly, the idea——”</p> +<p>“Yes, the idea of a blind detective—the blind +tracking the alert——”</p> +<p>“Of course, as you say, certain faculties are no doubt +quickened,” Mr Carlyle hastened to add considerately, +“but, seriously, with the exception of an artist, I +don’t suppose there is any man who is more utterly dependent +on his eyes.”</p> +<p>Whatever opinion Carrados might have held privately, his genial +exterior did not betray a shadow of dissent. For a full minute he +continued to smoke as though he derived an actual visual enjoyment +from the blue sprays that travelled and dispersed across the room. +He had already placed before his visitor a box containing cigars of +a brand which that gentleman keenly appreciated but generally +regarded as unattainable, and the matter-of-fact ease and certainty +with which the blind man had brought the box and put it before him +had sent a questioning flicker through Carlyle’s mind.</p> +<p>“You used to be rather fond of art yourself, Louis,” +he remarked presently. “Give me your opinion of my latest +purchase—the bronze lion on the cabinet there.” Then, +as Carlyle’s gaze went about the room, he added quickly: +“No, not that cabinet—the one on your left.”</p> +<p>Carlyle shot a sharp glance at his host as he got up, but +Carrados’s expression was merely benignly complacent. Then he +strolled across to the figure.</p> +<p>“Very nice,” he admitted. “Late Flemish, +isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“No. It is a copy of Vidal’s ‘Roaring +lion.’”</p> +<p>“Vidal?”</p> +<p>“A French artist.” The voice became indescribably +flat. “He, also, had the misfortune to be blind, by the +way.”</p> +<p>“You old humbug, Max!” shrieked Carlyle, +“you’ve been thinking that out for the last five +minutes.” Then the unfortunate man bit his lip and turned his +back towards his host.</p> +<p>“Do you remember how we used to pile it up on that obtuse +ass Sanders and then roast him?” asked Carrados, ignoring the +half-smothered exclamation with which the other man had recalled +himself.</p> +<p>“Yes,” replied Carlyle quietly. “This is very +good,” he continued, addressing himself to the bronze again. +“How ever did he do it?”</p> +<p>“With his hands.”</p> +<p>“Naturally. But, I mean, how did he study his +model?”</p> +<p>“Also with his hands. He called it ‘seeing +near.’”</p> +<p>“Even with a lion—handled it?”</p> +<p>“In such cases he required the services of a keeper, who +brought the animal to bay while Vidal exercised his own particular +gifts.... You don’t feel inclined to put me on the track of a +mystery, Louis?”</p> +<p>Unable to regard this request as anything but one of old +Max’s unquenchable pleasantries, Mr Carlyle was on the point +of making a suitable reply when a sudden thought caused him to +smile knowingly. Up to that point he had, indeed, completely +forgotten the object of his visit. Now that he remembered the +doubtful Dionysius and Mr Baxter’s recommendation he +immediately assumed that some mistake had been made. Either Max was +not the Wynn Carrados he had been seeking or else the dealer had +been misinformed; for although his host was wonderfully expert in +the face of his misfortune, it was inconceivable that he could +decide the genuineness of a coin without seeing it. The opportunity +seemed a good one of getting even with Carrados by taking him at +his word.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he accordingly replied, with crisp +deliberation, as he recrossed the room; “yes, I will, Max. +Here is the clue to what seems to be a rather remarkable +fraud.” He put the tetradrachm into his host’s hand. +“What do you make of it?”</p> +<p>For a few seconds Carrados handled the piece with the delicate +manipulation of his finger-tips while Carlyle looked on with a +self-appreciative grin. Then with equal gravity the blind man +weighed the coin in the balance of his hand. Finally he touched it +with his tongue.</p> +<p>“Well?” demanded the other.</p> +<p>“Of course I have not much to go on, and if I was more +fully in your confidence I might come to another +conclusion——”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes,” interposed Carlyle, with amused +encouragement.</p> +<p>“Then I should advise you to arrest the parlourmaid, Nina +Brun, communicate with the police authorities of Padua for +particulars of the career of Helene Brunesi, and suggest to Lord +Seastoke that he should return to London to see what further +depredations have been made in his cabinet.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle’s groping hand sought and found a chair, on to +which he dropped blankly. His eyes were unable to detach themselves +for a single moment from the very ordinary spectacle of Mr +Carrados’s mildly benevolent face, while the sterilized ghost +of his now forgotten amusement still lingered about his +features.</p> +<p>“Good heavens!” he managed to articulate, “how +do you know?”</p> +<p>“Isn’t that what you wanted of me?” asked +Carrados suavely.</p> +<p>“Don’t humbug, Max,” said Carlyle severely. +“This is no joke.” An undefined mistrust of his own +powers suddenly possessed him in the presence of this mystery. +“How do you come to know of Nina Brun and Lord +Seastoke?”</p> +<p>“You are a detective, Louis,” replied Carrados. +“How does one know these things? By using one’s eyes +and putting two and two together.”</p> +<p>Carlyle groaned and flung out an arm petulantly.</p> +<p>“Is it all bunkum, Max? Do you really see all the +time—though that doesn’t go very far towards explaining +it.”</p> +<p>“Like Vidal, I see very well—at close +quarters,” replied Carrados, lightly running a forefinger +along the inscription on the tetradrachm. “For longer range I +keep another pair of eyes. Would you like to test them?”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle’s assent was not very gracious; it was, in +fact, faintly sulky. He was suffering the annoyance of feeling +distinctly unimpressive in his own department; but he was also +curious.</p> +<p>“The bell is just behind you, if you don’t +mind,” said his host. “Parkinson will appear. You might +take note of him while he is in.”</p> +<p>The man who had admitted Mr Carlyle proved to be Parkinson.</p> +<p>“This gentleman is Mr Carlyle, Parkinson,” explained +Carrados the moment the man entered. “You will remember him +for the future?”</p> +<p>Parkinson’s apologetic eye swept the visitor from head to +foot, but so lightly and swiftly that it conveyed to that gentleman +the comparison of being very deftly dusted.</p> +<p>“I will endeavour to do so, sir,” replied Parkinson; +turning again to his master.</p> +<p>“I shall be at home to Mr Carlyle whenever he calls. That +is all.”</p> +<p>“Very well, sir.”</p> +<p>“Now, Louis,” remarked Mr Carrados briskly, when the +door had closed again, “you have had a good opportunity of +studying Parkinson. What is he like?”</p> +<p>“In what way?”</p> +<p>“I mean as a matter of description. I am a blind +man—I haven’t seen my servant for twelve +years—what idea can you give me of him? I asked you to +notice.”</p> +<p>“I know you did, but your Parkinson is the sort of man who +has very little about him to describe. He is the embodiment of the +ordinary. His height is about average——”</p> +<p>“Five feet nine,” murmured Carrados. “Slightly +above the mean.”</p> +<p>“Scarcely noticeably so. Clean-shaven. Medium brown hair. +No particularly marked features. Dark eyes. Good teeth.”</p> +<p>“False,” interposed Carrados. “The +teeth—not the statement.”</p> +<p>“Possibly,” admitted Mr Carlyle. “I am not a +dental expert and I had no opportunity of examining Mr +Parkinson’s mouth in detail. But what is the drift of all +this?”</p> +<p>“His clothes?”</p> +<p>“Oh, just the ordinary evening dress of a valet. There is +not much room for variety in that.”</p> +<p>“You noticed, in fact, nothing special by which Parkinson +could be identified?”</p> +<p>“Well, he wore an unusually broad gold ring on the little +finger of the left hand.”</p> +<p>“But that is removable. And yet Parkinson has an +ineradicable mole—a small one, I admit—on his chin. And +you a human sleuth-hound. Oh, Louis!”</p> +<p>“At all events,” retorted Carlyle, writhing a little +under this good-humoured satire, although it was easy enough to see +in it Carrados’s affectionate intention—“at all +events, I dare say I can give as good a description of Parkinson as +he can give of me.”</p> +<p>“That is what we are going to test. Ring the bell +again.”</p> +<p>“Seriously?”</p> +<p>“Quite. I am trying my eyes against yours. If I +can’t give you fifty out of a hundred I’ll renounce my +private detectorial ambition for ever.”</p> +<p>“It isn’t quite the same,” objected Carlyle, +but he rang the bell.</p> +<p>“Come in and close the door, Parkinson,” said +Carrados when the man appeared. “Don’t look at Mr +Carlyle again—in fact, you had better stand with your back +towards him, he won’t mind. Now describe to me his appearance +as you observed it.”</p> +<p>Parkinson tendered his respectful apologies to Mr Carlyle for +the liberty he was compelled to take, by the deferential quality of +his voice.</p> +<p>“Mr Carlyle, sir, wears patent leather boots of about size +seven and very little used. There are five buttons, but on the left +boot one button—the third up—is missing, leaving loose +threads and not the more usual metal fastener. Mr Carlyle’s +trousers, sir, are of a dark material, a dark grey line of about a +quarter of an inch width on a darker ground. The bottoms are turned +permanently up and are, just now, a little muddy, if I may say +so.”</p> +<p>“Very muddy,” interposed Mr Carlyle generously. +“It is a wet night, Parkinson.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir; very unpleasant weather. If you will allow me, +sir, I will brush you in the hall. The mud is dry now, I notice. +Then, sir,” continued Parkinson, reverting to the business in +hand, “there are dark green cashmere hose. A curb-pattern +key-chain passes into the left-hand trouser pocket.”</p> +<p>From the visitor’s nether garments the photographic-eyed +Parkinson proceeded to higher ground, and with increasing wonder Mr +Carlyle listened to the faithful catalogue of his possessions. His +fetter-and-link albert of gold and platinum was minutely described. +His spotted blue ascot, with its gentlemanly pearl scarfpin, was +set forth, and the fact that the buttonhole in the left lapel of +his morning coat showed signs of use was duly noted. What Parkinson +saw he recorded but he made no deductions. A handkerchief carried +in the cuff of the right sleeve was simply that to him and not an +indication that Mr Carlyle was, indeed, left-handed.</p> +<p>But a more delicate part of Parkinson’s undertaking +remained. He approached it with a double cough.</p> +<p>“As regards Mr Carlyle’s personal appearance; +sir——”</p> +<p>“No, enough!” cried the gentleman concerned hastily. +“I am more than satisfied. You are a keen observer, +Parkinson.”</p> +<p>“I have trained myself to suit my master’s +requirements, sir,” replied the man. He looked towards Mr +Carrados, received a nod and withdrew.</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle was the first to speak.</p> +<p>“That man of yours would be worth five pounds a week to +me, Max,” he remarked thoughtfully. “But, of +course——”</p> +<p>“I don’t think that he would take it,” replied +Carrados, in a voice of equally detached speculation. “He +suits me very well. But you have the chance of using his +services—indirectly.”</p> +<p>“You still mean that—seriously?”</p> +<p>“I notice in you a chronic disinclination to take me +seriously, Louis. It is really—to an Englishman—almost +painful. Is there something inherently comic about me or the +atmosphere of The Turrets?”</p> +<p>“No, my friend,” replied Mr Carlyle, “but +there is something essentially prosperous. That is what points to +the improbable. Now what is it?”</p> +<p>“It might be merely a whim, but it is more than +that,” replied Carrados. “It is, well, partly vanity, +partly <i>ennui</i>, partly”—certainly there was +something more nearly tragic in his voice than comic +now—“partly hope.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle was too tactful to pursue the subject.</p> +<p>“Those are three tolerable motives,” he acquiesced. +“I’ll do anything you want, Max, on one +condition.”</p> +<p>“Agreed. And it is?”</p> +<p>“That you tell me how you knew so much of this +affair.” He tapped the silver coin which lay on the table +near them. “I am not easily flabbergasted,” he +added.</p> +<p>“You won’t believe that there is nothing to +explain—that it was purely second-sight?”</p> +<p>“No,” replied Carlyle tersely; “I +won’t.”</p> +<p>“You are quite right. And yet the thing is very +simple.”</p> +<p>“They always are—when you know,” soliloquized +the other. “That’s what makes them so confoundedly +difficult when you don’t.”</p> +<p>“Here is this one then. In Padua, which seems to be +regaining its old reputation as the birthplace of spurious +antiques, by the way, there lives an ingenious craftsman named +Pietro Stelli. This simple soul, who possesses a talent not +inferior to that of Cavino at his best, has for many years turned +his hand to the not unprofitable occupation of forging rare Greek +and Roman coins. As a collector and student of certain Greek +colonials and a specialist in forgeries I have been familiar with +Stelli’s workmanship for years. Latterly he seems to have +come under the influence of an international crook called—at +the moment—Dompierre, who soon saw a way of utilizing +Stelli’s genius on a royal scale. Helene Brunesi, who in +private life is—and really is, I believe—Madame +Dompierre, readily lent her services to the enterprise.”</p> +<p>“Quite so,” nodded Mr Carlyle, as his host +paused.</p> +<p>“You see the whole sequence, of course?”</p> +<p>“Not exactly—not in detail,” confessed Mr +Carlyle.</p> +<p>“Dompierre’s idea was to gain access to some of the +most celebrated cabinets of Europe and substitute Stelli’s +fabrications for the genuine coins. The princely collection of +rarities that he would thus amass might be difficult to dispose of +safely but I have no doubt that he had matured his plans. Helene, +in the person of Nina Bran, an Anglicised French +parlourmaid—a part which she fills to perfection—was to +obtain wax impressions of the most valuable pieces and to make the +exchange when the counterfeits reached her. In this way it was +obviously hoped that the fraud would not come to light until long +after the real coins had been sold, and I gather that she has +already done her work successfully in several houses. Then, +impressed by her excellent references and capable manner, my +housekeeper engaged her, and for a few weeks she went about her +duties here. It was fatal to this detail of the scheme, however, +that I have the misfortune to be blind. I am told that Helene has +so innocently angelic a face as to disarm suspicion, but I was +incapable of being impressed and that good material was thrown +away. But one morning my material fingers—which, of course, +knew nothing of Helene’s angelic face—discovered an +unfamiliar touch about the surface of my favourite Euclideas, and, +although there was doubtless nothing to be seen, my critical sense +of smell reported that wax had been recently pressed against it. I +began to make discreet inquiries and in the meantime my cabinets +went to the local bank for safety. Helene countered by receiving a +telegram from Angiers, calling her to the death-bed of her aged +mother. The aged mother succumbed; duty compelled Helene to remain +at the side of her stricken patriarchal father, and doubtless The +Turrets was written off the syndicate’s operations as a bad +debt.”</p> +<p>“Very interesting,” admitted Mr Carlyle; “but +at the risk of seeming obtuse”—his manner had become +delicately chastened—“I must say that I fail to trace +the inevitable connexion between Nina Brun and this particular +forgery—assuming that it is a forgery.”</p> +<p>“Set your mind at rest about that, Louis,” replied +Carrados. “It is a forgery, and it is a forgery that none but +Pietro Stelli could have achieved. That is the essential connexion. +Of course, there are accessories. A private detective coming +urgently to see me with a notable tetradrachm in his pocket, which +he announces to be the clue to a remarkable fraud—well, +really, Louis, one scarcely needs to be blind to see through +that.”</p> +<p>“And Lord Seastoke? I suppose you happened to discover +that Nina Brun had gone there?”</p> +<p>“No, I cannot claim to have discovered that, or I should +certainly have warned him at once when I found out—only +recently—about the gang. As a matter of fact, the last +information I had of Lord Seastoke was a line in yesterday’s +<i>Morning Post</i> to the effect that he was still at Cairo. But +many of these pieces——” He brushed his finger +almost lovingly across the vivid chariot race that embellished the +reverse of the coin, and broke off to remark: “You really +ought to take up the subject, Louis. You have no idea how useful it +might prove to you some day.”</p> +<p>“I really think I must,” replied Carlyle grimly. +“Two hundred and fifty pounds the original of this cost, I +believe.”</p> +<p>“Cheap, too; it would make five hundred pounds in New York +to-day. As I was saying, many are literally unique. This gem by +Kimon is—here is his signature, you see; Peter is +particularly good at lettering—and as I handled the genuine +tetradrachm about two years ago, when Lord Seastoke exhibited it at +a meeting of our society in Albemarle Street, there is nothing at +all wonderful in my being able to fix the locale of your mystery. +Indeed, I feel that I ought to apologize for it all being so +simple.”</p> +<p>“I think,” remarked Mr Carlyle, critically examining +the loose threads on his left boot, “that the apology on that +head would be more appropriate from me.”</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_KNIGHT8217S_CROSS_SIGNAL_PROBLEM" id= +"THE_KNIGHT8217S_CROSS_SIGNAL_PROBLEM"></a>THE KNIGHT’S CROSS +SIGNAL PROBLEM</h2> +<p>“Louis,” exclaimed Mr Carrados, with the air of +genial gaiety that Carlyle had found so incongruous to his +conception of a blind man, “you have a mystery somewhere +about you! I know it by your step.”</p> +<p>Nearly a month had passed since the incident of the false +Dionysius had led to the two men meeting. It was now December. +Whatever Mr Carlyle’s step might indicate to the inner eye it +betokened to the casual observer the manner of a crisp, alert, +self-possessed man of business. Carlyle, in truth, betrayed nothing +of the pessimism and despondency that had marked him on the earlier +occasion.</p> +<p>“You have only yourself to thank that it is a very poor +one,” he retorted. “If you hadn’t held me to a +hasty promise——”</p> +<p>“To give me an option on the next case that baffled you, +no matter what it was——”</p> +<p>“Just so. The consequence is that you get a very +unsatisfactory affair that has no special interest to an amateur +and is only baffling because it +is—well——”</p> +<p>“Well, baffling?”</p> +<p>“Exactly, Max. Your would-be jest has discovered the +proverbial truth. I need hardly tell you that it is only the +insoluble that is finally baffling and this is very probably +insoluble. You remember the awful smash on the Central and Suburban +at Knight’s Cross Station a few weeks ago?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” replied Carrados, with interest. “I +read the whole ghastly details at the time.”</p> +<p>“You read?” exclaimed his friend suspiciously.</p> +<p>“I still use the familiar phrases,” explained +Carrados, with a smile. “As a matter of fact, my secretary +reads to me. I mark what I want to hear and when he comes at ten +o’clock we clear off the morning papers in no +time.”</p> +<p>“And how do you know what to mark?” demanded Mr +Carlyle cunningly.</p> +<p>Carrados’s right hand, lying idly on the table, moved to a +newspaper near. He ran his finger along a column heading, his eyes +still turned towards his visitor.</p> +<p>“‘The Money Market. Continued from page 2. British +Railways,’” he announced.</p> +<p>“Extraordinary,” murmured Carlyle.</p> +<p>“Not very,” said Carrados. “If someone dipped +a stick in treacle and wrote ‘Rats’ across a marble +slab you would probably be able to distinguish what was there, +blindfold.”</p> +<p>“Probably,” admitted Mr Carlyle. “At all +events we will not test the experiment.”</p> +<p>“The difference to you of treacle on a marble background +is scarcely greater than that of printers’ ink on newspaper +to me. But anything smaller than pica I do not read with comfort, +and below long primer I cannot read at all. Hence the secretary. +Now the accident, Louis.”</p> +<p>“The accident: well, you remember all about that. An +ordinary Central and Suburban passenger train, non-stop at +Knight’s Cross, ran past the signal and crashed into a +crowded electric train that was just beginning to move out. It was +like sending a garden roller down a row of handlights. Two +carriages of the electric train were flattened out of existence; +the next two were broken up. For the first time on an English +railway there was a good stand-up smash between a heavy +steam-engine and a train of light cars, and it was ‘bad for +the coo.’”</p> +<p>“Twenty-seven killed, forty something injured, eight died +since,” commented Carrados.</p> +<p>“That was bad for the Co.,” said Carlyle. +“Well, the main fact was plain enough. The heavy train was in +the wrong. But was the engine-driver responsible? He claimed, and +he claimed vehemently from the first and he never varied one iota, +that he had a ‘clear’ signal—that is to say, the +green light, it being dark. The signalman concerned was equally +dogged that he never pulled off the signal—that it was at +‘danger’ when the accident happened and that it had +been for five minutes before. Obviously, they could not both be +right.”</p> +<p>“Why, Louis?” asked Mr Carrados smoothly.</p> +<p>“The signal must either have been up or down—red or +green.”</p> +<p>“Did you ever notice the signals on the Great Northern +Railway, Louis?”</p> +<p>“Not particularly. Why?”</p> +<p>“One winterly day, about the year when you and I were +concerned in being born, the engine-driver of a Scotch express +received the ‘clear’ from a signal near a little +Huntingdon station called Abbots Ripton. He went on and crashed +into a goods train and into the thick of the smash a down express +mowed its way. Thirteen killed and the usual tale of injured. He +was positive that the signal gave him a ‘clear’; the +signalman was equally confident that he had never pulled it off +the ‘danger.’ Both were right, and yet the signal was +in working order. As I said, it was a winterly day; it had been +snowing hard and the snow froze and accumulated on the upper edge +of the signal arm until its weight bore it down. That is a fact +that no fiction writer dare have invented, but to this day every +signal on the Great Northern pivots from the centre of the arm +instead of from the end, in memory of that snowstorm.”</p> +<p>“That came out at the inquest, I presume?” said Mr +Carlyle. “We have had the Board of Trade inquiry and the +inquest here and no explanation is forthcoming. Everything was in +perfect order. It rests between the word of the signalman and the +word of the engine-driver—not a jot of direct evidence either +way. Which is right?”</p> +<p>“That is what you are going to find out, Louis?” +suggested Carrados.</p> +<p>“It is what I am being paid for finding out,” +admitted Mr Carlyle frankly. “But so far we are just where +the inquest left it, and, between ourselves, I candidly can’t +see an inch in front of my face in the matter.”</p> +<p>“Nor can I,” said the blind man, with a rather wry +smile. “Never mind. The engine-driver is your client, of +course?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” admitted Carlyle. “But how the deuce +did you know?”</p> +<p>“Let us say that your sympathies are enlisted on his +behalf. The jury were inclined to exonerate the signalman, +weren’t they? What has the company done with your +man?”</p> +<p>“Both are suspended. Hutchins, the driver, hears that he +may probably be given charge of a lavatory at one of the stations. +He is a decent, bluff, short-spoken old chap, with his heart in his +work. Just now you’ll find him at his worst—bitter and +suspicious. The thought of swabbing down a lavatory and taking +pennies all day is poisoning him.”</p> +<p>“Naturally. Well, there we have honest Hutchins: taciturn, +a little touchy perhaps, grown grey in the service of the company, +and manifesting quite a bulldog-like devotion to his favourite +538.”</p> +<p>“Why, that actually was the number of his engine—how +do you know it?” demanded Carlyle sharply.</p> +<p>“It was mentioned two or three times at the inquest, +Louis,” replied Carrados mildly.</p> +<p>“And you remembered—with no reason to?”</p> +<p>“You can generally trust a blind man’s memory, +especially if he has taken the trouble to develop it.”</p> +<p>“Then you will remember that Hutchins did not make a very +good impression at the time. He was surly and irritable under the +ordeal. I want you to see the case from all sides.”</p> +<p>“He called the signalman—Mead—a ‘lying +young dog,’ across the room, I believe. Now, Mead, what is he +like? You have seen him, of course?”</p> +<p>“Yes. He does not impress me favourably. He is glib, +ingratiating, and distinctly ‘greasy.’ He has a ready +answer for everything almost before the question is out of your +mouth. He has thought of everything.”</p> +<p>“And now you are going to tell me something, Louis,” +said Carrados encouragingly.</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle laughed a little to cover an involuntary movement of +surprise.</p> +<p>“There is a suggestive line that was not touched at the +inquiries,” he admitted. “Hutchins has been a saving +man all his life, and he has received good wages. Among his class +he is regarded as wealthy. I daresay that he has five hundred +pounds in the bank. He is a widower with one daughter, a very +nice-mannered girl of about twenty. Mead is a young man, and he and +the girl are sweethearts—have been informally engaged for +some time. But old Hutchins would not hear of it; he seems to have +taken a dislike to the signalman from the first and latterly he had +forbidden him to come to his house or his daughter to speak to +him.”</p> +<p>“Excellent, Louis,” cried Carrados in great delight. +“We shall clear your man in a blaze of red and green lights +yet and hang the glib, ‘greasy’ signalman from his own +signal-post.”</p> +<p>“It is a significant fact, seriously?”</p> +<p>“It is absolutely convincing.”</p> +<p>“It may have been a slip, a mental lapse on Mead’s +part which he discovered the moment it was too late, and then, +being too cowardly to admit his fault, and having so much at stake, +he took care to make detection impossible. It may have been that, +but my idea is rather that probably it was neither quite pure +accident nor pure design. I can imagine Mead meanly pluming himself +over the fact that the life of this man who stands in his way, and +whom he must cordially dislike, lies in his power. I can imagine +the idea becoming an obsession as he dwells on it. A dozen times +with his hand on the lever he lets his mind explore the +possibilities of a moment’s defection. Then one day he pulls +the signal off in sheer bravado—and hastily puts it at danger +again. He may have done it once or he may have done it oftener +before he was caught in a fatal moment of irresolution. The chances +are about even that the engine-driver would be killed. In any case +he would be disgraced, for it is easier on the face of it to +believe that a man might run past a danger signal in +absentmindedness, without noticing it, than that a man should pull +off a signal and replace it without being conscious of his +actions.”</p> +<p>“The fireman was killed. Does your theory involve the +certainty of the fireman being killed, Louis?”</p> +<p>“No,” said Carlyle. “The fireman is a +difficulty, but looking at it from Mead’s point of +view—whether he has been guilty of an error or a +crime—it resolves itself into this: First, the fireman may be +killed. Second, he may not notice the signal at all. Third, in any +case he will loyally corroborate his driver and the good old jury +will discount that.”</p> +<p>Carrados smoked thoughtfully, his open, sightless eyes merely +appearing to be set in a tranquil gaze across the room.</p> +<p>“It would not be an improbable explanation,” he said +presently. “Ninety-nine men out of a hundred would say: +‘People do not do these things.’ But you and I, who +have in our different ways studied criminology, know that they +sometimes do, or else there would be no curious crimes. What have +you done on that line?”</p> +<p>To anyone who could see, Mr Carlyle’s expression conveyed +an answer.</p> +<p>“You are behind the scenes, Max. What was there for me to +do? Still I must do something for my money. Well, I have had a very +close inquiry made confidentially among the men. There might be a +whisper of one of them knowing more than had come out—a man +restrained by friendship, or enmity, or even grade jealousy. +Nothing came of that. Then there was the remote chance that some +private person had noticed the signal without attaching any +importance to it then, one who would be able to identify it still +by something associated with the time. I went over the line myself. +Opposite the signal the line on one side is shut in by a high blank +wall; on the other side are houses, but coming below the butt-end +of a scullery the signal does not happen to be visible from any +road or from any window.”</p> +<p>“My poor Louis!” said Carrados, in friendly +ridicule. “You were at the end of your tether?”</p> +<p>“I was,” admitted Carlyle. “And now that you +know the sort of job it is I don’t suppose that you are keen +on wasting your time over it.”</p> +<p>“That would hardly be fair, would it?” said Carrados +reasonably. “No, Louis, I will take over your honest old +driver and your greasy young signalman and your fatal signal that +cannot be seen from anywhere.”</p> +<p>“But it is an important point for you to remember, Max, +that although the signal cannot be seen from the box, if the +mechanism had gone wrong, or anyone tampered with the arm, the +automatic indicator would at once have told Mead that the green +light was showing. Oh, I have gone very thoroughly into the +technical points, I assure you.”</p> +<p>“I must do so too,” commented Mr Carrados +gravely.</p> +<p>“For that matter, if there is anything you want to know, I +dare say that I can tell you,” suggested his visitor. +“It might save your time.”</p> +<p>“True,” acquiesced Carrados. “I should like to +know whether anyone belonging to the houses that bound the line +there came of age or got married on the twenty-sixth of +November.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle looked across curiously at his host.</p> +<p>“I really do not know, Max,” he replied, in his +crisp, precise way. “What on earth has that got to do with +it, may I inquire?”</p> +<p>“The only explanation of the Pont St Lin swing-bridge +disaster of ’75 was the reflection of a green bengal light on +a cottage window.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle smiled his indulgence privately.</p> +<p>“My dear chap, you mustn’t let your retentive memory +of obscure happenings run away with you,” he remarked wisely. +“In nine cases out of ten the obvious explanation is the true +one. The difficulty, as here, lies in proving it. Now, you would +like to see these men?”</p> +<p>“I expect so; in any case, I will see Hutchins +first.”</p> +<p>“Both live in Holloway. Shall I ask Hutchins to come here +to see you—say to-morrow? He is doing nothing.”</p> +<p>“No,” replied Carrados. “To-morrow I must call +on my brokers and my time may be filled up.”</p> +<p>“Quite right; you mustn’t neglect your own affairs +for this—experiment,” assented Carlyle.</p> +<p>“Besides, I should prefer to drop in on Hutchins at his +own home. Now, Louis, enough of the honest old man for one night. I +have a lovely thing by Eumenes that I want to show you. To-day +is—Tuesday. Come to dinner on Sunday and pour the vials of +your ridicule on my want of success.”</p> +<p>“That’s an amiable way of putting it,” replied +Carlyle. “All right, I will.”</p> +<p>Two hours later Carrados was again in his study, apparently, for +a wonder, sitting idle. Sometimes he smiled to himself, and once or +twice he laughed a little, but for the most part his pleasant, +impassive face reflected no emotion and he sat with his useless +eyes tranquilly fixed on an unseen distance. It was a fantastic +caprice of the man to mock his sightlessness by a parade of light, +and under the soft brilliance of a dozen electric brackets the room +was as bright as day. At length he stood up and rang the bell.</p> +<p>“I suppose Mr Greatorex isn’t still here by any +chance, Parkinson?” he asked, referring to his secretary.</p> +<p>“I think not, sir, but I will ascertain,” replied +the man.</p> +<p>“Never mind. Go to his room and bring me the last two +files of <i>The Times</i>. Now”—when he +returned—“turn to the earliest you have there. The +date?”</p> +<p>“November the second.”</p> +<p>“That will do. Find the Money Market; it will be in the +Supplement. Now look down the columns until you come to British +Railways.”</p> +<p>“I have it, sir.”</p> +<p>“Central and Suburban. Read the closing price and the +change.”</p> +<p>“Central and Suburban Ordinary, 66-1/2-67-1/2, fall 1/8. +Preferred Ordinary, 81-81-1/2, no change. Deferred Ordinary, +27-1/2-27-3/4, fall 1/4. That is all, sir.”</p> +<p>“Now take a paper about a week on. Read the Deferred +only.”</p> +<p>“27-27-1/4, no change.”</p> +<p>“Another week.”</p> +<p>“29-1/2-30, rise 5/8.”</p> +<p>“Another.”</p> +<p>“31-1/2-32-1/2, rise 1.”</p> +<p>“Very good. Now on Tuesday the twenty-seventh +November.”</p> +<p>“31-7/8-32-3/4, rise 1/2.”</p> +<p>“Yes. The next day.”</p> +<p>“24-1/2-23-1/2, fall 9.”</p> +<p>“Quite so, Parkinson. There had been an accident, you +see.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. Very unpleasant accident. Jane knows a person +whose sister’s young man has a cousin who had his arm torn +off in it—torn off at the socket, she says, sir. It seems to +bring it home to one, sir.”</p> +<p>“That is all. Stay—in the paper you have, look down +the first money column and see if there is any reference to the +Central and Suburban.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. ‘City and Suburbans, which after their +late depression on the projected extension of the motor bus +service, had been steadily creeping up on the abandonment of the +scheme, and as a result of their own excellent traffic returns, +suffered a heavy slump through the lamentable accident of Thursday +night. The Deferred in particular at one time fell eleven points as +it was felt that the possible dividend, with which rumour has of +late been busy, was now out of the question.’”</p> +<p>“Yes; that is all. Now you can take the papers back. And +let it be a warning to you, Parkinson, not to invest your savings +in speculative railway deferreds.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir, I will endeavour to +remember.” He lingered for a moment as he shook the file of +papers level. “I may say, sir, that I have my eye on a small +block of cottage property at Acton. But even cottage property +scarcely seems safe from legislative depredation now, +sir.”</p> +<p>The next day Mr Carrados called on his brokers in the city. It +is to be presumed that he got through his private business quicker +than he expected, for after leaving Austin Friars he continued his +journey to Holloway, where he found Hutchins at home and sitting +morosely before his kitchen fire. Rightly assuming that his +luxuriant car would involve him in a certain amount of public +attention in Klondyke Street, the blind man dismissed it some +distance from the house, and walked the rest of the way, guided by +the almost imperceptible touch of Parkinson’s arm.</p> +<p>“Here is a gentleman to see you, father,” explained +Miss Hutchins, who had come to the door. She divined the relative +positions of the two visitors at a glance.</p> +<p>“Then why don’t you take him into the +parlour?” grumbled the ex-driver. His face was a testimonial +of hard work and general sobriety but at the moment one might +hazard from his voice and manner that he had been drinking earlier +in the day.</p> +<p>“I don’t think that the gentleman would be impressed +by the difference between our parlour and our kitchen,” +replied the girl quaintly, “and it is warmer here.”</p> +<p>“What’s the matter with the parlour now?” +demanded her father sourly. “It was good enough for your +mother and me. It used to be good enough for you.”</p> +<p>“There is nothing the matter with it, nor with the kitchen +either.” She turned impassively to the two who had followed +her along the narrow passage. “Will you go in, +sir?”</p> +<p>“I don’t want to see no gentleman,” cried +Hutchins noisily. “Unless”—his manner suddenly +changed to one of pitiable anxiety—“unless you’re +from the Company, sir, to—to——”</p> +<p>“No; I have come on Mr Carlyle’s behalf,” +replied Carrados, walking to a chair as though he moved by a kind +of instinct.</p> +<p>Hutchins laughed his wry contempt.</p> +<p>“Mr Carlyle!” he reiterated; “Mr Carlyle! Fat +lot of good he’s been. Why don’t he <i>do</i> something +for his money?”</p> +<p>“He has,” replied Carrados, with imperturbable +good-humour; “he has sent me. Now, I want to ask you a few +questions.”</p> +<p>“A few questions!” roared the irate man. “Why, +blast it, I have done nothing else but answer questions for a +month. I didn’t pay Mr Carlyle to ask me questions; I can get +enough of that for nixes. Why don’t you go and ask Mr Herbert +Ananias Mead your few questions—then you might find out +something.”</p> +<p>There was a slight movement by the door and Carrados knew that +the girl had quietly left the room.</p> +<p>“You saw that, sir?” demanded the father, diverted +to a new line of bitterness. “You saw that girl—my own +daughter, that I’ve worked for all her life?”</p> +<p>“No,” replied Carrados.</p> +<p>“The girl that’s just gone out—she’s my +daughter,” explained Hutchins.</p> +<p>“I know, but I did not see her. I see nothing. I am +blind.”</p> +<p>“Blind!” exclaimed the old fellow, sitting up in +startled wonderment. “You mean it, sir? You walk all right +and you look at me as if you saw me. You’re kidding +surely.”</p> +<p>“No,” smiled Carrados. “It’s quite +right.”</p> +<p>“Then it’s a funny business, sir—you what are +blind expecting to find something that those with their eyes +couldn’t,” ruminated Hutchins sagely.</p> +<p>“There are things that you can’t see with your eyes, +Hutchins.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps you are right, sir. Well, what is it you want to +know?”</p> +<p>“Light a cigar first,” said the blind man, holding +out his case and waiting until the various sounds told him that his +host was smoking contentedly. “The train you were driving at +the time of the accident was the six-twenty-seven from Notcliff. It +stopped everywhere until it reached Lambeth Bridge, the chief +London station of your line. There it became something of an +express, and leaving Lambeth Bridge at seven-eleven, should not +stop again until it fetched Swanstead on Thames, eleven miles out, +at seven-thirty-four. Then it stopped on and off from Swanstead to +Ingerfield, the terminus of that branch, which it reached at +eight-five.”</p> +<p>Hutchins nodded, and then, remembering, said: +“That’s right, sir.”</p> +<p>“That was your business all day—running between +Notcliff and Ingerfield?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. Three journeys up and three down +mostly.”</p> +<p>“With the same stops on all the down journeys?”</p> +<p>“No. The seven-eleven is the only one that does a run from +the Bridge to Swanstead. You see, it is just on the close of the +evening rush, as they call it. A good many late business gentlemen +living at Swanstead use the seven-eleven regular. The other +journeys we stop at every station to Lambeth Bridge, and then here +and there beyond.”</p> +<p>“There are, of course, other trains doing exactly the same +journey—a service, in fact?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. About six.”</p> +<p>“And do any of those—say, during the rush—do +any of those run non-stop from Lambeth to Swanstead?”</p> +<p>Hutchins reflected a moment. All the choler and restlessness had +melted out of the man’s face. He was again the excellent +artisan, slow but capable and self-reliant.</p> +<p>“That I couldn’t definitely say, sir. Very few +short-distance trains pass the junction, but some of those may. A +guide would show us in a minute but I haven’t got +one.”</p> +<p>“Never mind. You said at the inquest that it was no +uncommon thing for you to be pulled up at the ‘stop’ +signal east of Knight’s Cross Station. How often would that +happen—only with the seven-eleven, mind.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps three times a week; perhaps twice.”</p> +<p>“The accident was on a Thursday. Have you noticed that you +were pulled up oftener on a Thursday than on any other +day?”</p> +<p>A smile crossed the driver’s face at the question.</p> +<p>“You don’t happen to live at Swanstead yourself, +sir?” he asked in reply.</p> +<p>“No,” admitted Carrados. “Why?”</p> +<p>“Well, sir, we were <i>always</i> pulled up on Thursday; +practically always, you may say. It got to be quite a saying among +those who used the train regular; they used to look out for +it.”</p> +<p>Carrados’s sightless eyes had the one quality of +concealing emotion supremely. “Oh,” he commented +softly, “always; and it was quite a saying, was it? And +<i>why</i> was it always so on Thursday?”</p> +<p>“It had to do with the early closing, I’m told. The +suburban traffic was a bit different. By rights we ought to have +been set back two minutes for that day, but I suppose it +wasn’t thought worth while to alter us in the time-table, so +we most always had to wait outside Three Deep tunnel for a +west-bound electric to make good.”</p> +<p>“You were prepared for it then?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir, I was,” said Hutchins, reddening at some +recollection, “and very down about it was one of the jury +over that. But, mayhap once in three months, I did get through even +on a Thursday, and it’s not for me to question whether things +are right or wrong just because they are not what I may expect. The +signals are my orders, sir—stop! go on! and it’s for me +to obey, as you would a general on the field of battle. What would +happen otherwise! It was nonsense what they said about going +cautious; and the man who started it was a barber who didn’t +know the difference between a ‘distance’ and a +‘stop’ signal down to the minute they gave their +verdict. My orders, sir, given me by that signal, was ‘Go +right ahead and keep to your running time!’”</p> +<p>Carrados nodded a soothing assent. “That is all, I +think,” he remarked.</p> +<p>“All!” exclaimed Hutchins in surprise. “Why, +sir, you can’t have got much idea of it yet.”</p> +<p>“Quite enough. And I know it isn’t pleasant for you +to be taken along the same ground over and over again.”</p> +<p>The man moved awkwardly in his chair and pulled nervously at his +grizzled beard.</p> +<p>“You mustn’t take any notice of what I said just +now, sir,” he apologized. “You somehow make me feel +that something may come of it; but I’ve been badgered about +and accused and cross-examined from one to another of them these +weeks till it’s fairly made me bitter against everything. And +now they talk of putting me in a lavatory—me that has been +with the company for five and forty years and on the foot-plate +thirty-two—a man suspected of running past a danger +signal.”</p> +<p>“You have had a rough time, Hutchins; you will have to +exercise your patience a little longer yet,” said Carrados +sympathetically.</p> +<p>“You think something may come of it, sir? You think you +will be able to clear me? Believe me, sir, if you could give me +something to look forward to it might save me +from——” He pulled himself up and shook his head +sorrowfully. “I’ve been near it,” he added +simply.</p> +<p>Carrados reflected and took his resolution.</p> +<p>“To-day is Wednesday. I think you may hope to hear +something from your general manager towards the middle of next +week.”</p> +<p>“Good God, sir! You really mean that?”</p> +<p>“In the interval show your good sense by behaving +reasonably. Keep civilly to yourself and don’t talk. Above +all”—he nodded towards a quart jug that stood on the +table between them, an incident that filled the simple-minded +engineer with boundless wonder when he recalled it +afterwards—“above all, leave that alone.”</p> +<p>Hutchins snatched up the vessel and brought it crashing down on +the hearthstone, his face shining with a set resolution.</p> +<p>“I’ve done with it, sir. It was the bitterness and +despair that drove me to that. Now I can do without it.”</p> +<p>The door was hastily opened and Miss Hutchins looked anxiously +from her father to the visitors and back again.</p> +<p>“Oh, whatever is the matter?” she exclaimed. +“I heard a great crash.”</p> +<p>“This gentleman is going to clear me, Meg, my dear,” +blurted out the old man irrepressibly. “And I’ve done +with the drink for ever.”</p> +<p>“Hutchins! Hutchins!” said Carrados warningly.</p> +<p>“My daughter, sir; you wouldn’t have her not +know?” pleaded Hutchins, rather crest-fallen. “It +won’t go any further.”</p> +<p>Carrados laughed quietly to himself as he felt Margaret +Hutchins’s startled and questioning eyes attempting to read +his mind. He shook hands with the engine-driver without further +comment, however, and walked out into the commonplace little street +under Parkinson’s unobtrusive guidance.</p> +<p>“Very nice of Miss Hutchins to go into half-mourning, +Parkinson,” he remarked as they went along. +“Thoughtful, and yet not ostentatious.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir,” agreed Parkinson, who had long ceased to +wonder at his master’s perceptions.</p> +<p>“The Romans, Parkinson, had a saying to the effect that +gold carries no smell. That is a pity sometimes. What jewellery did +Miss Hutchins wear?”</p> +<p>“Very little, sir. A plain gold brooch representing a +merry-thought—the merry-thought of a sparrow, I should say, +sir. The only other article was a smooth-backed gun-metal watch, +suspended from a gun-metal bow.”</p> +<p>“Nothing showy or expensive, eh?”</p> +<p>“Oh dear no, sir. Quite appropriate for a young person of +her position.”</p> +<p>“Just what I should have expected.” He slackened his +pace. “We are passing a hoarding, are we not?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“We will stand here a moment. Read me the letterpress of +the poster before us.”</p> +<p>“This ‘Oxo’ one, sir?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“‘Oxo,’ sir.”</p> +<p>Carrados was convulsed with silent laughter. Parkinson had +infinitely more dignity and conceded merely a tolerant recognition +of the ludicrous.</p> +<p>“That was a bad shot, Parkinson,” remarked his +master when he could speak. “We will try another.”</p> +<p>For three minutes, with scrupulous conscientiousness on the part +of the reader and every appearance of keen interest on the part of +the hearer, there were set forth the particulars of a sale by +auction of superfluous timber and builders’ material.</p> +<p>“That will do,” said Carrados, when the last detail +had been reached. “We can be seen from the door of No. 107 +still?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“No indication of anyone coming to us from +there?”</p> +<p>“No, sir.”</p> +<p>Carrados walked thoughtfully on again. In the Holloway Road they +rejoined the waiting motor car. “Lambeth Bridge +Station,” was the order the driver received.</p> +<p>From the station the car was sent on home and Parkinson was +instructed to take two first-class singles for Richmond, which +could be reached by changing at Stafford Road. The “evening +rush” had not yet commenced and they had no difficulty in +finding an empty carriage when the train came in.</p> +<p>Parkinson was kept busy that journey describing what he saw at +various points between Lambeth Bridge and Knight’s Cross. For +a quarter of a mile Carrados’s demands on the eyes and the +memory of his remarkable servant were wide and incessant. Then his +questions ceased. They had passed the “stop” signal, +east of Knight’s Cross Station.</p> +<p>The following afternoon they made the return journey as far as +Knight’s Cross. This time, however, the surroundings failed +to interest Carrados. “We are going to look at some +rooms,” was the information he offered on the subject, and an +imperturbable “Yes, sir” had been the extent of +Parkinson’s comment on the unusual proceeding. After leaving +the station they turned sharply along a road that ran parallel with +the line, a dull thoroughfare of substantial, elderly houses that +were beginning to sink into decrepitude. Here and there a corner +residence displayed the brass plate of a professional occupant, but +for the most part they were given up to the various branches of +second-rate apartment letting.</p> +<p>“The third house after the one with the flagstaff,” +said Carrados.</p> +<p>Parkinson rang the bell, which was answered by a young servant, +who took an early opportunity of assuring them that she was not +tidy as it was rather early in the afternoon. She informed +Carrados, in reply to his inquiry, that Miss Chubb was at home, and +showed them into a melancholy little sitting-room to await her +appearance.</p> +<p>“I shall be ‘almost’ blind here, +Parkinson,” remarked Carrados, walking about the room. +“It saves explanation.”</p> +<p>“Very good, sir,” replied Parkinson.</p> +<p>Five minutes later, an interval suggesting that Miss Chubb also +found it rather early in the afternoon, Carrados was arranging to +take rooms for his attendant and himself for the short time that he +would be in London, seeing an oculist.</p> +<p>“One bedroom, mine, must face north,” he stipulated. +“It has to do with the light.”</p> +<p>Miss Chubb replied that she quite understood. Some gentlemen, +she added, had their requirements, others their fancies. She +endeavoured to suit all. The bedroom she had in view from the first +<i>did</i> face north. She would not have known, only the last +gentleman, curiously enough, had made the same request.</p> +<p>“A sufferer like myself?” inquired Carrados +affably.</p> +<p>Miss Chubb did not think so. In his case she regarded it merely +as a fancy. He had said that he could not sleep on any other side. +She had had to turn out of her own room to accommodate him, but if +one kept an apartment-house one had to be adaptable; and Mr Ghoosh +was certainly very liberal in his ideas.</p> +<p>“Ghoosh? An Indian gentleman, I presume?” hazarded +Carrados.</p> +<p>It appeared that Mr Ghoosh was an Indian. Miss Chubb confided +that at first she had been rather perturbed at the idea of taking +in “a black man,” as she confessed to regarding him. +She reiterated, however, that Mr Ghoosh proved to be “quite +the gentleman.” Five minutes of affability put Carrados in +full possession of Mr Ghoosh’s manner of life and +movements—the dates of his arrival and departure, his +solitariness and his daily habits.</p> +<p>“This would be the best bedroom,” said Miss +Chubb.</p> +<p>It was a fair-sized room on the first floor. The window looked +out on to the roof of an outbuilding; beyond, the deep cutting of +the railway line. Opposite stood the dead wall that Mr Carlyle had +spoken of.</p> +<p>Carrados “looked” round the room with the +discriminating glance that sometimes proved so embarrassing to +those who knew him.</p> +<p>“I have to take a little daily exercise,” he +remarked, walking to the window and running his hand up the +woodwork. “You will not mind my fixing a +‘developer’ here, Miss Chubb—a few small +screws?”</p> +<p>Miss Chubb thought not. Then she was sure not. Finally she +ridiculed the idea of minding with scorn.</p> +<p>“If there is width enough,” mused Carrados, spanning +the upright critically. “Do you happen to have a wooden +foot-rule convenient?”</p> +<p>“Well, to be sure!” exclaimed Miss Chubb, opening a +rapid succession of drawers until she produced the required +article. “When we did out this room after Mr Ghoosh, there +was this very ruler among the things that he hadn’t thought +worth taking. This is what you require, sir?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” replied Carrados, accepting it, “I +think this is exactly what I require.” It was a common new +white-wood rule, such as one might buy at any small +stationer’s for a penny. He carelessly took off the width of +the upright, reading the figures with a touch; and then continued +to run a finger-tip delicately up and down the edges of the +instrument.</p> +<p>“Four and seven-eighths,” was his unspoken +conclusion.</p> +<p>“I hope it will do, sir.”</p> +<p>“Admirably,” replied Carrados. “But I +haven’t reached the end of my requirements yet, Miss +Chubb.”</p> +<p>“No, sir?” said the landlady, feeling that it would +be a pleasure to oblige so agreeable a gentleman, “what else +might there be?”</p> +<p>“Although I can see very little I like to have a light, +but not any kind of light. Gas I cannot do with. Do you think that +you would be able to find me an oil lamp?”</p> +<p>“Certainly, sir. I got out a very nice brass lamp that I +have specially for Mr Ghoosh. He read a good deal of an evening and +he preferred a lamp.”</p> +<p>“That is very convenient. I suppose it is large enough to +burn for a whole evening?”</p> +<p>“Yes, indeed. And very particular he was always to have it +filled every day.”</p> +<p>“A lamp without oil is not very useful,” smiled +Carrados, following her towards another room, and absentmindedly +slipping the foot-rule into his pocket.</p> +<p>Whatever Parkinson thought of the arrangement of going into +second-rate apartments in an obscure street it is to be inferred +that his devotion to his master was sufficient to overcome his +private emotions as a self-respecting “man.” At all +events, as they were approaching the station he asked, and without +a trace of feeling, whether there were any orders for him with +reference to the proposed migration.</p> +<p>“None, Parkinson,” replied his master. “We +must be satisfied with our present quarters.”</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Parkinson, with some +constraint. “I understood that you had taken the rooms for a +week certain.”</p> +<p>“I am afraid that Miss Chubb will be under the same +impression. Unforeseen circumstances will prevent our going, +however. Mr Greatorex must write to-morrow, enclosing a cheque, +with my regrets, and adding a penny for this ruler which I seem to +have brought away with me. It, at least, is something for the +money.”</p> +<p>Parkinson may be excused for not attempting to understand the +course of events.</p> +<p>“Here is your train coming in, sir,” he merely +said.</p> +<p>“We will let it go and wait for another. Is there a signal +at either end of the platform?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir; at the further end.”</p> +<p>“Let us walk towards it. Are there any of the porters or +officials about here?”</p> +<p>“No, sir; none.”</p> +<p>“Take this ruler. I want you to go up the +steps—there are steps up the signal, by the way?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“I want you to measure the glass of the lamp. Do not go up +any higher than is necessary, but if you have to stretch be careful +not to mark on the measurement with your nail, although the impulse +is a natural one. That has been done already.”</p> +<p>Parkinson looked apprehensively around and about. Fortunately +the part was a dark and unfrequented spot and everyone else was +moving towards the exit at the other end of the platform. +Fortunately, also, the signal was not a high one.</p> +<p>“As near as I can judge on the rounded surface, the glass +is four and seven-eighths across,” reported Parkinson.</p> +<p>“Thank you,” replied Carrados, returning the measure +to his pocket, “four and seven-eighths is quite near enough. +Now we will take the next train back.”</p> +<p>Sunday evening came, and with it Mr Carlyle to The Turrets at +the appointed hour. He brought to the situation a mind poised for +any eventuality and a trenchant eye. As the time went on and the +impenetrable Carrados made no allusion to the case, Carlyle’s +manner inclined to a waggish commiseration of his host’s +position. Actually, he said little, but the crisp precision of his +voice when the path lay open to a remark of any significance left +little to be said.</p> +<p>It was not until they had finished dinner and returned to the +library that Carrados gave the slightest hint of anything unusual +being in the air. His first indication of coming events was to +remove the key from the outside to the inside of the door.</p> +<p>“What are you doing, Max?” demanded Mr Carlyle, his +curiosity overcoming the indirect attitude.</p> +<p>“You have been very entertaining, Louis,” replied +his friend, “but Parkinson should be back very soon now and +it is as well to be prepared. Do you happen to carry a +revolver?”</p> +<p>“Not when I come to dine with you, Max,” replied +Carlyle, with all the aplomb he could muster. “Is it +usual?”</p> +<p>Carrados smiled affectionately at his guest’s agile +recovery and touched the secret spring of a drawer in an antique +bureau by his side. The little hidden receptacle shot smoothly out, +disclosing a pair of dull-blued pistols.</p> +<p>“To-night, at all events, it might be prudent,” he +replied, handing one to Carlyle and putting the other into his own +pocket. “Our man may be here at any minute, and we do not +know in what temper he will come.”</p> +<p>“Our man!” exclaimed Carlyle, craning forward in +excitement. “Max! you don’t mean to say that you have +got Mead to admit it?”</p> +<p>“No one has admitted it,” said Carrados. “And +it is not Mead.”</p> +<p>“Not Mead.... Do you mean that +Hutchins——?”</p> +<p>“Neither Mead nor Hutchins. The man who tampered with the +signal—for Hutchins was right and a green light <i>was</i> +exhibited—is a young Indian from Bengal. His name is Drishna +and he lives at Swanstead.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle stared at his friend between sheer surprise and blank +incredulity.</p> +<p>“You really mean this, Carrados?” he said.</p> +<p>“My fatal reputation for humour!” smiled Carrados. +“If I am wrong, Louis, the next hour will expose +it.”</p> +<p>“But why—why—why? The colossal villainy, the +unparalleled audacity!” Mr Carlyle lost himself among +incredulous superlatives and could only stare.</p> +<p>“Chiefly to get himself out of a disastrous +speculation,” replied Carrados, answering the question. +“If there was another motive—or at least an +incentive—which I suspect, doubtless we shall hear of +it.”</p> +<p>“All the same, Max, I don’t think that you have +treated me quite fairly,” protested Carlyle, getting over his +first surprise and passing to a sense of injury. “Here we are +and I know nothing, absolutely nothing, of the whole +affair.”</p> +<p>“We both have our ideas of pleasantry, Louis,” +replied Carrados genially. “But I dare say you are right and +perhaps there is still time to atone.” In the fewest possible +words he outlined the course of his investigations. “And now +you know all that is to be known until Drishna arrives.”</p> +<p>“But will he come?” questioned Carlyle doubtfully. +“He may be suspicious.”</p> +<p>“Yes, he will be suspicious.”</p> +<p>“Then he will not come.”</p> +<p>“On the contrary, Louis, he will come because my letter +will make him suspicious. He <i>is</i> coming; otherwise Parkinson +would have telephoned me at once and we should have had to take +other measures.”</p> +<p>“What did you say, Max?” asked Carlyle +curiously.</p> +<p>“I wrote that I was anxious to discuss an Indo-Scythian +inscription with him, and sent my car in the hope that he would be +able to oblige me.”</p> +<p>“But is he interested in Indo-Scythian +inscriptions?”</p> +<p>“I haven’t the faintest idea,” admitted +Carrados, and Mr Carlyle was throwing up his hands in despair when +the sound of a motor car wheels softly kissing the gravel surface +of the drive outside brought him to his feet.</p> +<p>“By gad, you are right, Max!” he exclaimed, peeping +through the curtains. “There is a man inside.”</p> +<p>“Mr Drishna,” announced Parkinson, a minute +later.</p> +<p>The visitor came into the room with leisurely self-possession +that might have been real or a desperate assumption. He was a +slightly built young man of about twenty-five, with black hair and +eyes, a small, carefully trained moustache, and a dark olive skin. +His physiognomy was not displeasing, but his expression had a harsh +and supercilious tinge. In attire he erred towards the immaculately +spruce.</p> +<p>“Mr Carrados?” he said inquiringly.</p> +<p>Carrados, who had risen, bowed slightly without offering his +hand.</p> +<p>“This gentleman,” he said, indicating his friend, +“is Mr Carlyle, the celebrated private detective.”</p> +<p>The Indian shot a very sharp glance at the object of this +description. Then he sat down.</p> +<p>“You wrote me a letter, Mr Carrados,” he remarked, +in English that scarcely betrayed any foreign origin, “a +rather curious letter, I may say. You asked me about an ancient +inscription. I know nothing of antiquities; but I thought, as you +had sent, that it would be more courteous if I came and explained +this to you.”</p> +<p>“That was the object of my letter,” replied +Carrados.</p> +<p>“You wished to see me?” said Drishna, unable to +stand the ordeal of the silence that Carrados imposed after his +remark.</p> +<p>“When you left Miss Chubb’s house you left a ruler +behind.” One lay on the desk by Carrados and he took it up as +he spoke.</p> +<p>“I don’t understand what you are talking +about,” said Drishna guardedly. “You are making some +mistake.”</p> +<p>“The ruler was marked at four and seven-eighths +inches—the measure of the glass of the signal lamp +outside.”</p> +<p>The unfortunate young man was unable to repress a start. His +face lost its healthy tone. Then, with a sudden impulse, he made a +step forward and snatched the object from Carrados’s +hand.</p> +<p>“If it is mine I have a right to it,” he exclaimed, +snapping the ruler in two and throwing it on to the back of the +blazing fire. “It is nothing.”</p> +<p>“Pardon me, I did not say that the one you have so +impetuously disposed of was yours. As a matter of fact, it was +mine. Yours is—elsewhere.”</p> +<p>“Wherever it is you have no right to it if it is +mine,” panted Drishna, with rising excitement. “You are +a thief, Mr Carrados. I will not stay any longer here.”</p> +<p>He jumped up and turned towards the door. Carlyle made a step +forward, but the precaution was unnecessary.</p> +<p>“One moment, Mr Drishna,” interposed Carrados, in +his smoothest tones. “It is a pity, after you have come so +far, to leave without hearing of my investigations in the +neighbourhood of Shaftesbury Avenue.”</p> +<p>Drishna sat down again.</p> +<p>“As you like,” he muttered. “It does not +interest me.”</p> +<p>“I wanted to obtain a lamp of a certain pattern,” +continued Carrados. “It seemed to me that the simplest +explanation would be to say that I wanted it for a motor car. +Naturally I went to Long Acre. At the first shop I said: +‘Wasn’t it here that a friend of mine, an Indian +gentleman, recently had a lamp made with a green glass that was +nearly five inches across?’ No, it was not there but they +could make me one. At the next shop the same; at the third, and +fourth, and so on. Finally my persistence was rewarded. I found the +place where the lamp had been made, and at the cost of ordering +another I obtained all the details I wanted. It was news to them, +the shopman informed me, that in some parts of India green was the +danger colour and therefore tail lamps had to show a green light. +The incident made some impression on him and he would be able to +identify their customer—who paid in advance and gave no +address—among a thousand of his countrymen. Do I succeed in +interesting you, Mr Drishna?”</p> +<p>“Do you?” replied Drishna, with a languid yawn. +“Do I look interested?”</p> +<p>“You must make allowance for my unfortunate +blindness,” apologized Carrados, with grim irony.</p> +<p>“Blindness!” exclaimed Drishna, dropping his +affectation of unconcern as though electrified by the word, +“do you mean—really blind—that you do not see +me?”</p> +<p>“Alas, no,” admitted Carrados.</p> +<p>The Indian withdrew his right hand from his coat pocket and with +a tragic gesture flung a heavy revolver down on the table between +them.</p> +<p>“I have had you covered all the time, Mr Carrados, and if +I had wished to go and you or your friend had raised a hand to stop +me, it would have been at the peril of your lives,” he said, +in a voice of melancholy triumph. “But what is the use of +defying fate, and who successfully evades his destiny? A month ago +I went to see one of our people who reads the future and sought to +know the course of certain events. ‘You need fear no human +eye,’ was the message given to me. Then she added: ‘But +when the sightless sees the unseen, make your peace with +Yama.’ And I thought she spoke of the Great +Hereafter!”</p> +<p>“This amounts to an admission of your guilt,” +exclaimed Mr Carlyle practically.</p> +<p>“I bow to the decree of fate,” replied Drishna. +“And it is fitting to the universal irony of existence that a +blind man should be the instrument. I don’t imagine, Mr +Carlyle,” he added maliciously, “that you, with your +eyes, would ever have brought that result about.”</p> +<p>“You are a very cold-blooded young scoundrel, sir!” +retorted Mr Carlyle. “Good heavens! do you realize that you +are responsible for the death of scores of innocent men and +women?”</p> +<p>“Do <i>you</i> realise, Mr Carlyle, that you and your +Government and your soldiers are responsible for the death of +thousands of innocent men and women in my country every day? If +England was occupied by the Germans who quartered an army and an +administration with their wives and their families and all their +expensive paraphernalia on the unfortunate country until the whole +nation was reduced to the verge of famine, and the appointment of +every new official meant the callous death sentence on a thousand +men and women to pay his salary, then if you went to Berlin and +wrecked a train you would be hailed a patriot. What Boadicea did +and—and Samson, so have I. If they were heroes, so am +I.”</p> +<p>“Well, upon my word!” cried the highly scandalized +Carlyle, “what next! Boadicea was +a—er—semi-legendary person, whom we may possibly admire +at a distance. Personally, I do not profess to express an opinion. +But Samson, I would remind you, is a Biblical character. Samson was +mocked as an enemy. You, I do not doubt, have been entertained as a +friend.”</p> +<p>“And haven’t I been mocked and despised and sneered +at every day of my life here by your supercilious, superior, +empty-headed men?” flashed back Drishna, his eyes leaping +into malignity and his voice trembling with sudden passion. +“Oh! how I hated them as I passed them in the street and +recognized by a thousand petty insults their lordly English +contempt for me as an inferior being—a nigger. How I longed +with Caligula that a nation had a single neck that I might destroy +it at one blow. I loathe you in your complacent hypocrisy, Mr +Carlyle, despise and utterly abominate you from an eminence of +superiority that you can never even understand.”</p> +<p>“I think we are getting rather away from the point, Mr +Drishna,” interposed Carrados, with the impartiality of a +judge. “Unless I am misinformed, you are not so ungallant as +to include everyone you have met here in your +execration?”</p> +<p>“Ah, no,” admitted Drishna, descending into a quite +ingenuous frankness. “Much as I hate your men I love your +women. How is it possible that a nation should be so +divided—its men so dull-witted and offensive, its women so +quick, sympathetic and capable of appreciating?”</p> +<p>“But a little expensive, too, at times?” suggested +Carrados.</p> +<p>Drishna sighed heavily.</p> +<p>“Yes; it is incredible. It is the generosity of their +large nature. My allowance, though what most of you would call +noble, has proved quite inadequate. I was compelled to borrow money +and the interest became overwhelming. Bankruptcy was impracticable +because I should have then been recalled by my people, and much as +I detest England a certain reason made the thought of leaving it +unbearable.”</p> +<p>“Connected with the Arcady Theatre?”</p> +<p>“You know? Well, do not let us introduce the lady’s +name. In order to restore myself I speculated on the Stock +Exchange. My credit was good through my father’s position and +the standing of the firm to which I am attached. I heard on +reliable authority, and very early, that the Central and Suburban, +and the Deferred especially, was safe to fall heavily, through a +motor bus amalgamation that was then a secret. I opened a bear +account and sold largely. The shares fell, but only fractionally, +and I waited. Then, unfortunately, they began to go up. Adverse +forces were at work and rumours were put about. I could not stand +the settlement, and in order to carry over an account I was +literally compelled to deal temporarily with some securities that +were not technically my own property.”</p> +<p>“Embezzlement, sir,” commented Mr Carlyle icily. +“But what is embezzlement on the top of wholesale +murder!”</p> +<p>“That is what it is called. In my case, however, it was +only to be temporary. Unfortunately, the rise continued. Then, at +the height of my despair, I chanced to be returning to Swanstead +rather earlier than usual one evening, and the train was stopped at +a certain signal to let another pass. There was conversation in the +carriage and I learned certain details. One said that there would +be an accident some day, and so forth. In a flash—as by an +inspiration—I saw how the circumstance might be turned to +account. A bad accident and the shares would certainly fall and my +position would be retrieved. I think Mr Carrados has somehow +learned the rest.”</p> +<p>“Max,” said Mr Carlyle, with emotion, “is +there any reason why you should not send your man for a police +officer and have this monster arrested on his own confession +without further delay?”</p> +<p>“Pray do so, Mr Carrados,” acquiesced Drishna. +“I shall certainly be hanged, but the speech I shall prepare +will ring from one end of India to the other; my memory will be +venerated as that of a martyr; and the emancipation of my +motherland will be hastened by my sacrifice.”</p> +<p>“In other words,” commented Carrados, “there +will be disturbances at half-a-dozen disaffected places, a few +unfortunate police will be clubbed to death, and possibly worse +things may happen. That does not suit us, Mr Drishna.”</p> +<p>“And how do you propose to prevent it?” asked +Drishna, with cool assurance.</p> +<p>“It is very unpleasant being hanged on a dark winter +morning; very cold, very friendless, very inhuman. The long trial, +the solitude and the confinement, the thoughts of the long +sleepless night before, the hangman and the pinioning and the +noosing of the rope, are apt to prey on the imagination. Only a +very stupid man can take hanging easily.”</p> +<p>“What do you want me to do instead, Mr Carrados?” +asked Drishna shrewdly.</p> +<p>Carrados’s hand closed on the weapon that still lay on the +table between them. Without a word he pushed it across.</p> +<p>“I see,” commented Drishna, with a short laugh and a +gleaming eye. “Shoot myself and hush it up to suit your +purpose. Withhold my message to save the exposures of a trial, and +keep the flame from the torch of insurrectionary +freedom.”</p> +<p>“Also,” interposed Carrados mildly, “to save +your worthy people a good deal of shame, and to save the lady who +is nameless the unpleasant necessity of relinquishing the house and +the income which you have just settled on her. She certainly would +not then venerate your memory.”</p> +<p>“What is that?”</p> +<p>“The transaction which you carried through was based on a +felony and could not be upheld. The firm you dealt with will go to +the courts, and the money, being directly traceable, will be held +forfeit as no good consideration passed.”</p> +<p>“Max!” cried Mr Carlyle hotly, “you are not +going to let this scoundrel cheat the gallows after all?”</p> +<p>“The best use you can make of the gallows is to cheat it, +Louis,” replied Carrados. “Have you ever reflected what +human beings will think of us a hundred years hence?”</p> +<p>“Oh, of course I’m not really in favour of +hanging,” admitted Mr Carlyle.</p> +<p>“Nobody really is. But we go on hanging. Mr Drishna is a +dangerous animal who for the sake of pacific animals must cease to +exist. Let his barbarous exploit pass into oblivion with him. The +disadvantages of spreading it broadcast immeasurably outweigh the +benefits.”</p> +<p>“I have considered,” announced Drishna. “I +will do as you wish.”</p> +<p>“Very well,” said Carrados. “Here is some +plain notepaper. You had better write a letter to someone saying +that the financial difficulties in which you are involved make life +unbearable.”</p> +<p>“But there are no financial +difficulties—now.”</p> +<p>“That does not matter in the least. It will be put down to +an hallucination and taken as showing the state of your +mind.”</p> +<p>“But what guarantee have we that he will not +escape?” whispered Mr Carlyle.</p> +<p>“He cannot escape,” replied Carrados tranquilly. +“His identity is too clear.”</p> +<p>“I have no intention of trying to escape,” put in +Drishna, as he wrote. “You hardly imagine that I have not +considered this eventuality, do you?”</p> +<p>“All the same,” murmured the ex-lawyer, “I +should like to have a jury behind me. It is one thing to execute a +man morally; it is another to do it almost literally.”</p> +<p>“Is that all right?” asked Drishna, passing across +the letter he had written.</p> +<p>Carrados smiled at this tribute to his perception.</p> +<p>“Quite excellent,” he replied courteously. +“There is a train at nine-forty. Will that suit +you?”</p> +<p>Drishna nodded and stood up. Mr Carlyle had a very uneasy +feeling that he ought to do something but could not suggest to +himself what.</p> +<p>The next moment he heard his friend heartily thanking the +visitor for the assistance he had been in the matter of the +Indo-Scythian inscription, as they walked across the hall together. +Then a door closed.</p> +<p>“I believe that there is something positively uncanny +about Max at times,” murmured the perturbed gentleman to +himself.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_TRAGEDY_AT_BROOKBEND_COTTAGE" id= +"THE_TRAGEDY_AT_BROOKBEND_COTTAGE"></a>THE TRAGEDY AT BROOKBEND +COTTAGE</h2> +<p>“Max,” said Mr Carlyle, when Parkinson had closed +the door behind him, “this is Lieutenant Hollyer, whom you +consented to see.”</p> +<p>“To hear,” corrected Carrados, smiling straight into +the healthy and rather embarrassed face of the stranger before him. +“Mr Hollyer knows of my disability?”</p> +<p>“Mr Carlyle told me,” said the young man, +“but, as a matter of fact, I had heard of you before, Mr +Carrados, from one of our men. It was in connexion with the +foundering of the <i>Ivan Saratov</i>.”</p> +<p>Carrados wagged his head in good-humoured resignation.</p> +<p>“And the owners were sworn to inviolable secrecy!” +he exclaimed. “Well, it is inevitable, I suppose. Not another +scuttling case, Mr Hollyer?”</p> +<p>“No, mine is quite a private matter,” replied the +lieutenant. “My sister, Mrs Creake—but Mr Carlyle would +tell you better than I can. He knows all about it.”</p> +<p>“No, no; Carlyle is a professional. Let me have it in the +rough, Mr Hollyer. My ears are my eyes, you know.”</p> +<p>“Very well, sir. I can tell you what there is to tell, +right enough, but I feel that when all’s said and done it +must sound very little to another, although it seems important +enough to me.”</p> +<p>“We have occasionally found trifles of significance +ourselves,” said Carrados encouragingly. “Don’t +let that deter you.”</p> +<p>This was the essence of Lieutenant Hollyer’s +narrative:</p> +<p>“I have a sister, Millicent, who is married to a man +called Creake. She is about twenty-eight now and he is at least +fifteen years older. Neither my mother (who has since died), nor I, +cared very much about Creake. We had nothing particular against +him, except, perhaps, the moderate disparity of age, but none of us +appeared to have anything in common. He was a dark, taciturn man, +and his moody silence froze up conversation. As a result, of +course, we didn’t see much of each other.”</p> +<p>“This, you must understand, was four or five years ago, +Max,” interposed Mr Carlyle officiously.</p> +<p>Carrados maintained an uncompromising silence. Mr Carlyle blew +his nose and contrived to impart a hurt significance into the +operation. Then Lieutenant Hollyer continued:</p> +<p>“Millicent married Creake after a very short engagement. +It was a frightfully subdued wedding—more like a funeral to +me. The man professed to have no relations and apparently he had +scarcely any friends or business acquaintances. He was an agent for +something or other and had an office off Holborn. I suppose he made +a living out of it then, although we knew practically nothing of +his private affairs, but I gather that it has been going down +since, and I suspect that for the past few years they have been +getting along almost entirely on Millicent’s little income. +You would like the particulars of that?”</p> +<p>“Please,” assented Carrados.</p> +<p>“When our father died about seven years ago, he left three +thousand pounds. It was invested in Canadian stock and brought in a +little over a hundred a year. By his will my mother was to have the +income of that for life and on her death it was to pass to +Millicent, subject to the payment of a lump sum of five hundred +pounds to me. But my father privately suggested to me that if I +should have no particular use for the money at the time, he would +propose my letting Millicent have the income of it until I did want +it, as she would not be particularly well off. You see, Mr +Carrados, a great deal more had been spent on my education and +advancement than on her; I had my pay, and, of course, I could look +out for myself better than a girl could.”</p> +<p>“Quite so,” agreed Carrados.</p> +<p>“Therefore I did nothing about that,” continued the +lieutenant. “Three years ago I was over again but I did not +see much of them. They were living in lodgings. That was the only +time since the marriage that I have seen them until last week. In +the meanwhile our mother had died and Millicent had been receiving +her income. She wrote me several letters at the time. Otherwise we +did not correspond much, but about a year ago she sent me their new +address—Brookbend Cottage, Mulling Common—a house that +they had taken. When I got two months’ leave I invited myself +there as a matter of course, fully expecting to stay most of my +time with them, but I made an excuse to get away after a week. The +place was dismal and unendurable, the whole life and atmosphere +indescribably depressing.” He looked round with an instinct +of caution, leaned forward earnestly, and dropped his voice. +“Mr Carrados, it is my absolute conviction that Creake is +only waiting for a favourable opportunity to murder +Millicent.”</p> +<p>“Go on,” said Carrados quietly. “A week of the +depressing surroundings of Brookbend Cottage would not alone +convince you of that, Mr Hollyer.”</p> +<p>“I am not so sure,” declared Hollyer doubtfully. +“There was a feeling of suspicion and—before +me—polite hatred that would have gone a good way towards it. +All the same there <i>was</i> something more definite. Millicent +told me this the day after I went there. There is no doubt that a +few months ago Creake deliberately planned to poison her with some +weed-killer. She told me the circumstances in a rather distressed +moment, but afterwards she refused to speak of it again—even +weakly denied it—and, as a matter of fact, it was with the +greatest difficulty that I could get her at any time to talk about +her husband or his affairs. The gist of it was that she had the +strongest suspicion that Creake doctored a bottle of stout which he +expected she would drink for her supper when she was alone. The +weed-killer, properly labelled, but also in a beer bottle, was kept +with other miscellaneous liquids in the same cupboard as the beer +but on a high shelf. When he found that it had miscarried he poured +away the mixture, washed out the bottle and put in the dregs from +another. There is no doubt in my mind that if he had come back and +found Millicent dead or dying he would have contrived it to appear +that she had made a mistake in the dark and drunk some of the +poison before she found out.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” assented Carrados. “The open way; the +safe way.”</p> +<p>“You must understand that they live in a very small style, +Mr Carrados, and Millicent is almost entirely in the man’s +power. The only servant they have is a woman who comes in for a few +hours every day. The house is lonely and secluded. Creake is +sometimes away for days and nights at a time, and Millicent, either +through pride or indifference, seems to have dropped off all her +old friends and to have made no others. He might poison her, bury +the body in the garden, and be a thousand miles away before anyone +began even to inquire about her. What am I to do, Mr +Carrados?”</p> +<p>“He is less likely to try poison than some other means +now,” pondered Carrados. “That having failed, his wife +will always be on her guard. He may know, or at least suspect, that +others know. No.... The common-sense precaution would be for your +sister to leave the man, Mr Hollyer. She will not?”</p> +<p>“No,” admitted Hollyer, “she will not. I at +once urged that.” The young man struggled with some +hesitation for a moment and then blurted out: “The fact is, +Mr Carrados, I don’t understand Millicent. She is not the +girl she was. She hates Creake and treats him with a silent +contempt that eats into their lives like acid, and yet she is so +jealous of him that she will let nothing short of death part them. +It is a horrible life they lead. I stood it for a week and I must +say, much as I dislike my brother-in-law, that he has something to +put up with. If only he got into a passion like a man and killed +her it wouldn’t be altogether incomprehensible.”</p> +<p>“That does not concern us,” said Carrados. “In +a game of this kind one has to take sides and we have taken ours. +It remains for us to see that our side wins. You mentioned +jealousy, Mr Hollyer. Have you any idea whether Mrs Creake has real +ground for it?”</p> +<p>“I should have told you that,” replied Lieutenant +Hollyer. “I happened to strike up with a newspaper man whose +office is in the same block as Creake’s. When I mentioned the +name he grinned. ‘Creake,’ he said, ‘oh, +he’s the man with the romantic typist, isn’t he?’ +‘Well, he’s my brother-in-law,’ I replied. +‘What about the typist?’ Then the chap shut up like a +knife. ‘No, no,’ he said, ‘I didn’t know he +was married. I don’t want to get mixed up in anything of that +sort. I only said that he had a typist. Well, what of that? So have +we; so has everyone.’ There was nothing more to be got out of +him, but the remark and the grin meant—well, about as usual, +Mr Carrados.”</p> +<p>Carrados turned to his friend.</p> +<p>“I suppose you know all about the typist by now, +Louis?”</p> +<p>“We have had her under efficient observation, Max,” +replied Mr Carlyle, with severe dignity.</p> +<p>“Is she unmarried?”</p> +<p>“Yes; so far as ordinary repute goes, she is.”</p> +<p>“That is all that is essential for the moment. Mr Hollyer +opens up three excellent reasons why this man might wish to dispose +of his wife. If we accept the suggestion of poisoning—though +we have only a jealous woman’s suspicion for it—we add +to the wish the determination. Well, we will go forward on that. +Have you got a photograph of Mr Creake?”</p> +<p>The lieutenant took out his pocket-book.</p> +<p>“Mr Carlyle asked me for one. Here is the best I could +get.”</p> +<p>Carrados rang the bell.</p> +<p>“This, Parkinson,” he said, when the man appeared, +“is a photograph of a Mr——What first name, by the +way?”</p> +<p>“Austin,” put in Hollyer, who was following +everything with a boyish mixture of excitement and subdued +importance.</p> +<p>“—of a Mr Austin Creake. I may require you to +recognize him.”</p> +<p>Parkinson glanced at the print and returned it to his +master’s hand.</p> +<p>“May I inquire if it is a recent photograph of the +gentleman, sir?” he asked.</p> +<p>“About six years ago,” said the lieutenant, taking +in this new actor in the drama with frank curiosity. “But he +is very little changed.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, sir. I will endeavour to remember Mr Creake, +sir.”</p> +<p>Lieutenant Hollyer stood up as Parkinson left the room. The +interview seemed to be at an end.</p> +<p>“Oh, there’s one other matter,” he remarked. +“I am afraid that I did rather an unfortunate thing while I +was at Brookbend. It seemed to me that as all Millicent’s +money would probably pass into Creake’s hands sooner or later +I might as well have my five hundred pounds, if only to help her +with afterwards. So I broached the subject and said that I should +like to have it now as I had an opportunity for +investing.”</p> +<p>“And you think?”</p> +<p>“It may possibly influence Creake to act sooner than he +otherwise might have done. He may have got possession of the +principal even and find it very awkward to replace it.”</p> +<p>“So much the better. If your sister is going to be +murdered it may as well be done next week as next year so far as I +am concerned. Excuse my brutality, Mr Hollyer, but this is simply a +case to me and I regard it strategically. Now Mr Carlyle’s +organization can look after Mrs Creake for a few weeks but it +cannot look after her for ever. By increasing the immediate risk we +diminish the permanent risk.”</p> +<p>“I see,” agreed Hollyer. “I’m awfully +uneasy but I’m entirely in your hands.”</p> +<p>“Then we will give Mr Creake every inducement and every +opportunity to get to work. Where are you staying now?”</p> +<p>“Just now with some friends at St Albans.”</p> +<p>“That is too far.” The inscrutable eyes retained +their tranquil depth but a new quality of quickening interest in +the voice made Mr Carlyle forget the weight and burden of his +ruffled dignity. “Give me a few minutes, please. The +cigarettes are behind you, Mr Hollyer.” The blind man walked +to the window and seemed to look out over the cypress-shaded lawn. +The lieutenant lit a cigarette and Mr Carlyle picked up +<i>Punch</i>. Then Carrados turned round again.</p> +<p>“You are prepared to put your own arrangements +aside?” he demanded of his visitor.</p> +<p>“Certainly.”</p> +<p>“Very well. I want you to go down now—straight from +here—to Brookbend Cottage. Tell your sister that your leave +is unexpectedly cut short and that you sail to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“The <i>Martian</i>?”</p> +<p>“No, no; the <i>Martian</i> doesn’t sail. Look up +the movements on your way there and pick out a boat that does. Say +you are transferred. Add that you expect to be away only two or +three months and that you really want the five hundred pounds by +the time of your return. Don’t stay in the house long, +please.”</p> +<p>“I understand, sir.”</p> +<p>“St Albans is too far. Make your excuse and get away from +there to-day. Put up somewhere in town, where you will be in reach +of the telephone. Let Mr Carlyle and myself know where you are. +Keep out of Creake’s way. I don’t want actually to tie +you down to the house, but we may require your services. We will +let you know at the first sign of anything doing and if there is +nothing to be done we must release you.”</p> +<p>“I don’t mind that. Is there nothing more that I can +do now?”</p> +<p>“Nothing. In going to Mr Carlyle you have done the best +thing possible; you have put your sister into the care of the +shrewdest man in London.” Whereat the object of this quite +unexpected eulogy found himself becoming covered with modest +confusion.</p> +<p>“Well, Max?” remarked Mr Carlyle tentatively when +they were alone.</p> +<p>“Well, Louis?”</p> +<p>“Of course it wasn’t worth while rubbing it in +before young Hollyer, but, as a matter of fact, every single man +carries the life of any other man—only one, mind you—in +his hands, do what you will.”</p> +<p>“Provided he doesn’t bungle,” acquiesced +Carrados.</p> +<p>“Quite so.”</p> +<p>“And also that he is absolutely reckless of the +consequences.”</p> +<p>“Of course.”</p> +<p>“Two rather large provisos. Creake is obviously +susceptible to both. Have you seen him?”</p> +<p>“No. As I told you, I put a man on to report his habits in +town. Then, two days ago, as the case seemed to promise some +interest—for he certainly is deeply involved with the typist, +Max, and the thing might take a sensational turn any time—I +went down to Mulling Common myself. Although the house is lonely it +is on the electric tram route. You know the sort of market garden +rurality that about a dozen miles out of London +offers—alternate bricks and cabbages. It was easy enough to +get to know about Creake locally. He mixes with no one there, goes +into town at irregular times but generally every day, and is +reputed to be devilish hard to get money out of. Finally I made the +acquaintance of an old fellow who used to do a day’s +gardening at Brookbend occasionally. He has a cottage and a garden +of his own with a greenhouse, and the business cost me the price of +a pound of tomatoes.”</p> +<p>“Was it—a profitable investment?”</p> +<p>“As tomatoes, yes; as information, no. The old fellow had +the fatal disadvantage from our point of view of labouring under a +grievance. A few weeks ago Creake told him that he would not +require him again as he was going to do his own gardening in +future.”</p> +<p>“That is something, Louis.”</p> +<p>“If only Creake was going to poison his wife with +hyoscyamine and bury her, instead of blowing her up with a dynamite +cartridge and claiming that it came in among the coal.”</p> +<p>“True, true. Still——”</p> +<p>“However, the chatty old soul had a simple explanation for +everything that Creake did. Creake was mad. He had even seen him +flying a kite in his garden where it was bound to get wrecked among +the trees. ‘A lad of ten would have known better,’ he +declared. And certainly the kite did get wrecked, for I saw it +hanging over the road myself. But that a sane man should spend his +time ‘playing with a toy’ was beyond him.”</p> +<p>“A good many men have been flying kites of various kinds +lately,” said Carrados. “Is he interested in +aviation?”</p> +<p>“I dare say. He appears to have some knowledge of +scientific subjects. Now what do you want me to do, Max?”</p> +<p>“Will you do it?”</p> +<p>“Implicitly—subject to the usual +reservations.”</p> +<p>“Keep your man on Creake in town and let me have his +reports after you have seen them. Lunch with me here now. +’Phone up to your office that you are detained on unpleasant +business and then give the deserving Parkinson an afternoon off by +looking after me while we take a motor run round Mulling Common. If +we have time we might go on to Brighton, feed at the +‘Ship,’ and come back in the cool.”</p> +<p>“Amiable and thrice lucky mortal,” sighed Mr +Carlyle, his glance wandering round the room.</p> +<p>But, as it happened, Brighton did not figure in that day’s +itinerary. It had been Carrados’s intention merely to pass +Brookbend Cottage on this occasion, relying on his highly developed +faculties, aided by Mr Carlyle’s description, to inform him +of the surroundings. A hundred yards before they reached the house +he had given an order to his chauffeur to drop into the lowest +speed and they were leisurely drawing past when a discovery by Mr +Carlyle modified their plans.</p> +<p>“By Jupiter!” that gentleman suddenly exclaimed, +“there’s a board up, Max. The place is to be +let.”</p> +<p>Carrados picked up the tube again. A couple of sentences passed +and the car stopped by the roadside, a score of paces past the +limit of the garden. Mr Carlyle took out his notebook and wrote +down the address of a firm of house agents.</p> +<p>“You might raise the bonnet and have a look at the +engines, Harris,” said Carrados. “We want to be +occupied here for a few minutes.”</p> +<p>“This is sudden; Hollyer knew nothing of their +leaving,” remarked Mr Carlyle.</p> +<p>“Probably not for three months yet. All the same, Louis, +we will go on to the agents and get a card to view, whether we use +it to-day or not.”</p> +<p>A thick hedge, in its summer dress effectively screening the +house beyond from public view, lay between the garden and the road. +Above the hedge showed an occasional shrub; at the corner nearest +to the car a chestnut flourished. The wooden gate, once white; +which they had passed, was grimed and rickety. The road itself was +still the unpretentious country lane that the advent of the +electric car had found it. When Carrados had taken in these details +there seemed little else to notice. He was on the point of giving +Harris the order to go on when his ear caught a trivial sound.</p> +<p>“Someone is coming out of the house, Louis,” he +warned his friend. “It may be Hollyer, but he ought to have +gone by this time.”</p> +<p>“I don’t hear anyone,” replied the other, but +as he spoke a door banged noisily and Mr Carlyle slipped into +another seat and ensconced himself behind a copy of <i>The +Globe</i>.</p> +<p>“Creake himself,” he whispered across the car, as a +man appeared at the gate. “Hollyer was right; he is hardly +changed. Waiting for a car, I suppose.”</p> +<p>But a car very soon swung past them from the direction in which +Mr Creake was looking and it did not interest him. For a minute or +two longer he continued to look expectantly along the road. Then he +walked slowly up the drive back to the house.</p> +<p>“We will give him five or ten minutes,” decided +Carrados. “Harris is behaving very naturally.”</p> +<p>Before even the shorter period had run out they were repaid. A +telegraph-boy cycled leisurely along the road, and, leaving his +machine at the gate, went up to the cottage. Evidently there was no +reply, for in less than a minute he was trundling past them back +again. Round the bend an approaching tram clanged its bell noisily, +and, quickened by the warning sound, Mr Creake again appeared, this +time with a small portmanteau in his hand. With a backward glance +he hurried on towards the next stopping-place, and, boarding the +car as it slackened down, he was carried out of their +knowledge.</p> +<p>“Very convenient of Mr Creake,” remarked Carrados, +with quiet satisfaction. “We will now get the order and go +over the house in his absence. It might be useful to have a look at +the wire as well.”</p> +<p>“It might, Max,” acquiesced Mr Carlyle a little +dryly. “But if it is, as it probably is, in Creake’s +pocket, how do you propose to get it?”</p> +<p>“By going to the post office, Louis.”</p> +<p>“Quite so. Have you ever tried to see a copy of a telegram +addressed to someone else?”</p> +<p>“I don’t think I have ever had occasion yet,” +admitted Carrados. “Have you?”</p> +<p>“In one or two cases I have perhaps been an accessory to +the act. It is generally a matter either of extreme delicacy or +considerable expenditure.”</p> +<p>“Then for Hollyer’s sake we will hope for the former +here.” And Mr Carlyle smiled darkly and hinted that he was +content to wait for a friendly revenge.</p> +<p>A little later, having left the car at the beginning of the +straggling High Street, the two men called at the village post +office. They had already visited the house agent and obtained an +order to view Brookbend Cottage, declining, with some difficulty, +the clerk’s persistent offer to accompany them. The reason +was soon forthcoming. “As a matter of fact,” explained +the young man, “the present tenant is under <i>our</i> notice +to leave.”</p> +<p>“Unsatisfactory, eh?” said Carrados +encouragingly.</p> +<p>“He’s a corker,” admitted the clerk, +responding to the friendly tone. “Fifteen months and not a +doit of rent have we had. That’s why I should have +liked——”</p> +<p>“We will make every allowance,” replied +Carrados.</p> +<p>The post office occupied one side of a stationer’s shop. +It was not without some inward trepidation that Mr Carlyle found +himself committed to the adventure. Carrados, on the other hand, +was the personification of bland unconcern.</p> +<p>“You have just sent a telegram to Brookbend +Cottage,” he said to the young lady behind the brasswork +lattice. “We think it may have come inaccurately and should +like a repeat.” He took out his purse. “What is the +fee?”</p> +<p>The request was evidently not a common one. “Oh,” +said the girl uncertainly, “wait a minute, please.” She +turned to a pile of telegram duplicates behind the desk and ran a +doubtful finger along the upper sheets. “I think this is all +right. You want it repeated?”</p> +<p>“Please.” Just a tinge of questioning surprise gave +point to the courteous tone.</p> +<p>“It will be fourpence. If there is an error the amount +will be refunded.”</p> +<p>Carrados put down a coin and received his change.</p> +<p>“Will it take long?” he inquired carelessly, as he +pulled on his glove.</p> +<p>“You will most likely get it within a quarter of an +hour,” she replied.</p> +<p>“Now you’ve done it,” commented Mr Carlyle, as +they walked back to their car. “How do you propose to get +that telegram, Max?”</p> +<p>“Ask for it,” was the laconic explanation.</p> +<p>And, stripping the artifice of any elaboration, he simply asked +for it and got it. The car, posted at a convenient bend in the +road, gave him a warning note as the telegraph-boy approached. Then +Carrados took up a convincing attitude with his hand on the gate +while Mr Carlyle lent himself to the semblance of a departing +friend. That was the inevitable impression when the boy rode +up.</p> +<p>“Creake, Brookbend Cottage?” inquired Carrados, +holding out his hand, and without a second thought the boy gave him +the envelope and rode away on the assurance that there would be no +reply.</p> +<p>“Some day, my friend,” remarked Mr Carlyle, looking +nervously towards the unseen house, “your ingenuity will get +you into a tight corner.”</p> +<p>“Then my ingenuity must get me out again,” was the +retort. “Let us have our ‘view’ now. The telegram +can wait.”</p> +<p>An untidy workwoman took their order and left them standing at +the door. Presently a lady whom they both knew to be Mrs Creake +appeared.</p> +<p>“You wish to see over the house?” she said, in a +voice that was utterly devoid of any interest. Then, without +waiting for a reply, she turned to the nearest door and threw it +open.</p> +<p>“This is the drawing-room,” she said, standing +aside.</p> +<p>They walked into a sparsely furnished, damp-smelling room and +made a pretence of looking round, while Mrs Creake remained silent +and aloof.</p> +<p>“The dining-room,” she continued, crossing the +narrow hall and opening another door.</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle ventured a genial commonplace in the hope of inducing +conversation. The result was not encouraging. Doubtless they would +have gone through the house under the same frigid guidance had not +Carrados been at fault in a way that Mr Carlyle had never known him +fail before. In crossing the hall he stumbled over a mat and almost +fell.</p> +<p>“Pardon my clumsiness,” he said to the lady. +“I am, unfortunately, quite blind. But,” he added, with +a smile, to turn off the mishap, “even a blind man must have +a house.”</p> +<p>The man who had eyes was surprised to see a flood of colour rush +into Mrs Creake’s face.</p> +<p>“Blind!” she exclaimed, “oh, I beg your +pardon. Why did you not tell me? You might have fallen.”</p> +<p>“I generally manage fairly well,” he replied. +“But, of course, in a strange house——”</p> +<p>She put her hand on his arm very lightly.</p> +<p>“You must let me guide you, just a little,” she +said.</p> +<p>The house, without being large, was full of passages and +inconvenient turnings. Carrados asked an occasional question and +found Mrs Creake quite amiable without effusion. Mr Carlyle +followed them from room to room in the hope, though scarcely the +expectation, of learning something that might be useful.</p> +<p>“This is the last one. It is the largest bedroom,” +said their guide. Only two of the upper rooms were fully furnished +and Mr Carlyle at once saw, as Carrados knew without seeing, that +this was the one which the Creakes occupied.</p> +<p>“A very pleasant outlook,” declared Mr Carlyle.</p> +<p>“Oh, I suppose so,” admitted the lady vaguely. The +room, in fact, looked over the leafy garden and the road beyond. It +had a French window opening on to a small balcony, and to this, +under the strange influence that always attracted him to light, +Carrados walked.</p> +<p>“I expect that there is a certain amount of repair +needed?” he said, after standing there a moment.</p> +<p>“I am afraid there would be,” she confessed.</p> +<p>“I ask because there is a sheet of metal on the floor +here,” he continued. “Now that, in an old house, spells +dry rot to the wary observer.”</p> +<p>“My husband said that the rain, which comes in a little +under the window, was rotting the boards there,” she replied. +“He put that down recently. I had not noticed anything +myself.”</p> +<p>It was the first time she had mentioned her husband; Mr Carlyle +pricked up his ears.</p> +<p>“Ah, that is a less serious matter,” said Carrados. +“May I step out on to the balcony?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes, if you like to.” Then, as he appeared to be +fumbling at the catch, “Let me open it for you.”</p> +<p>But the window was already open, and Carrados, facing the +various points of the compass, took in the bearings.</p> +<p>“A sunny, sheltered corner,” he remarked. “An +ideal spot for a deck-chair and a book.”</p> +<p>She shrugged her shoulders half contemptuously.</p> +<p>“I dare say,” she replied, “but I never use +it.”</p> +<p>“Sometimes, surely,” he persisted mildly. “It +would be my favourite retreat. But then——”</p> +<p>“I was going to say that I had never even been out on it, +but that would not be quite true. It has two uses for me, both +equally romantic; I occasionally shake a duster from it, and when +my husband returns late without his latchkey he wakes me up and I +come out here and drop him mine.”</p> +<p>Further revelation of Mr Creake’s nocturnal habits was cut +off, greatly to Mr Carlyle’s annoyance, by a cough of +unmistakable significance from the foot of the stairs. They had +heard a trade cart drive up to the gate, a knock at the door, and +the heavy-footed woman tramp along the hall.</p> +<p>“Excuse me a minute, please,” said Mrs Creake.</p> +<p>“Louis,” said Carrados, in a sharp whisper, the +moment they were alone, “stand against the door.”</p> +<p>With extreme plausibility Mr Carlyle began to admire a picture +so situated that while he was there it was impossible to open the +door more than a few inches. From that position he observed his +confederate go through the curious procedure of kneeling down on +the bedroom floor and for a full minute pressing his ear to the +sheet of metal that had already engaged his attention. Then he rose +to his feet, nodded, dusted his trousers, and Mr Carlyle moved to a +less equivocal position.</p> +<p>“What a beautiful rose-tree grows up your balcony,” +remarked Carrados, stepping into the room as Mrs Creake returned. +“I suppose you are very fond of gardening?”</p> +<p>“I detest it,” she replied.</p> +<p>“But this <i>Glorie</i>, so carefully +trained——?”</p> +<p>“Is it?” she replied. “I think my husband was +nailing it up recently.” By some strange fatality +Carrados’s most aimless remarks seemed to involve the absent +Mr Creake. “Do you care to see the garden?”</p> +<p>The garden proved to be extensive and neglected. Behind the +house was chiefly orchard. In front, some semblance of order had +been kept up; here it was lawn and shrubbery, and the drive they +had walked along. Two things interested Carrados: the soil at the +foot of the balcony, which he declared on examination to be +particularly suitable for roses, and the fine chestnut-tree in the +corner by the road.</p> +<p>As they walked back to the car Mr Carlyle lamented that they had +learned so little of Creake’s movements.</p> +<p>“Perhaps the telegram will tell us something,” +suggested Carrados. “Read it, Louis.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle cut open the envelope, glanced at the enclosure, and +in spite of his disappointment could not restrain a chuckle.</p> +<p>“My poor Max,” he explained, “you have put +yourself to an amount of ingenious trouble for nothing. Creake is +evidently taking a few days’ holiday and prudently availed +himself of the Meteorological Office forecast before going. Listen: +‘<i>Immediate prospect for London warm and settled. Further +outlook cooler but fine.</i>’ Well, well; I did get a pound +of tomatoes for <i>my</i> fourpence.”</p> +<p>“You certainly scored there, Louis,” admitted +Carrados, with humorous appreciation. “I wonder,” he +added speculatively, “whether it is Creake’s peculiar +taste usually to spend his week-end holiday in London.”</p> +<p>“Eh?” exclaimed Mr Carlyle, looking at the words +again, “by gad, that’s rum, Max. They go to +Weston-super-Mare. Why on earth should he want to know about +London?”</p> +<p>“I can make a guess, but before we are satisfied I must +come here again. Take another look at that kite, Louis. Are there a +few yards of string hanging loose from it?”</p> +<p>“Yes, there are.”</p> +<p>“Rather thick string—unusually thick for the +purpose?”</p> +<p>“Yes; but how do you know?”</p> +<p>As they drove home again Carrados explained, and Mr Carlyle sat +aghast, saying incredulously: “Good God, Max, is it +possible?”</p> +<p>An hour later he was satisfied that it was possible. In reply to +his inquiry someone in his office telephoned him the information +that “they” had left Paddington by the four-thirty for +Weston.</p> +<p>It was more than a week after his introduction to Carrados that +Lieutenant Hollyer had a summons to present himself at The Turrets +again. He found Mr Carlyle already there and the two friends +awaiting his arrival.</p> +<p>“I stayed in all day after hearing from you this morning, +Mr Carrados,” he said, shaking hands. “When I got your +second message I was all ready to walk straight out of the house. +That’s how I did it in the time. I hope everything is all +right?”</p> +<p>“Excellent,” replied Carrados. “You’d +better have something before we start. We probably have a long and +perhaps an exciting night before us.”</p> +<p>“And certainly a wet one,” assented the lieutenant. +“It was thundering over Mulling way as I came +along.”</p> +<p>“That is why you are here,” said his host. “We +are waiting for a certain message before we start, and in the +meantime you may as well understand what we expect to happen. As +you saw, there is a thunderstorm coming on. The Meteorological +Office morning forecast predicted it for the whole of London if the +conditions remained. That was why I kept you in readiness. Within +an hour it is now inevitable that we shall experience a deluge. +Here and there damage will be done to trees and buildings; here and +there a person will probably be struck and killed.”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“It is Mr Creake’s intention that his wife should be +among the victims.”</p> +<p>“I don’t exactly follow,” said Hollyer, +looking from one man to the other. “I quite admit that Creake +would be immensely relieved if such a thing did happen, but the +chance is surely an absurdly remote one.”</p> +<p>“Yet unless we intervene it is precisely what a +coroner’s jury will decide has happened. Do you know whether +your brother-in-law has any practical knowledge of electricity, Mr +Hollyer?”</p> +<p>“I cannot say. He was so reserved, and we really knew so +little of him——”</p> +<p>“Yet in 1896 an Austin Creake contributed an article on +‘Alternating Currents’ to the American <i>Scientific +World</i>. That would argue a fairly intimate +acquaintanceship.”</p> +<p>“But do you mean that he is going to direct a flash of +lightning?”</p> +<p>“Only into the minds of the doctor who conducts the +post-mortem, and the coroner. This storm, the opportunity for which +he has been waiting for weeks, is merely the cloak to his act. The +weapon which he has planned to use—scarcely less powerful +than lightning but much more tractable—is the high voltage +current of electricity that flows along the tram wire at his +gate.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” exclaimed Lieutenant Hollyer, as the sudden +revelation struck him.</p> +<p>“Some time between eleven o’clock +to-night—about the hour when your sister goes to +bed—and one-thirty in the morning—the time up to which +he can rely on the current—Creake will throw a stone up at +the balcony window. Most of his preparation has long been made; it +only remains for him to connect up a short length to the window +handle and a longer one at the other end to tap the live wire. That +done, he will wake his wife in the way I have said. The moment she +moves the catch of the window—and he has carefully filed its +parts to ensure perfect contact—she will be electrocuted as +effectually as if she sat in the executioner’s chair in Sing +Sing prison.”</p> +<p>“But what are we doing here!” exclaimed Hollyer, +starting to his feet, pale and horrified. “It is past ten now +and anything may happen.”</p> +<p>“Quite natural, Mr Hollyer,” said Carrados +reassuringly, “but you need have no anxiety. Creake is being +watched, the house is being watched, and your sister is as safe as +if she slept to-night in Windsor Castle. Be assured that whatever +happens he will not be allowed to complete his scheme; but it is +desirable to let him implicate himself to the fullest limit. Your +brother-in-law, Mr Hollyer, is a man with a peculiar capacity for +taking pains.”</p> +<p>“He is a damned cold-blooded scoundrel!” exclaimed +the young officer fiercely. “When I think of Millicent five +years ago——”</p> +<p>“Well, for that matter, an enlightened nation has decided +that electrocution is the most humane way of removing its +superfluous citizens,” suggested Carrados mildly. “He +is certainly an ingenious-minded gentleman. It is his misfortune +that in Mr Carlyle he was fated to be opposed by an even subtler +brain——”</p> +<p>“No, no! Really, Max!” protested the embarrassed +gentleman.</p> +<p>“Mr Hollyer will be able to judge for himself when I tell +him that it was Mr Carlyle who first drew attention to the +significance of the abandoned kite,” insisted Carrados +firmly. “Then, of course, its object became plain to +me—as indeed to anyone. For ten minutes, perhaps, a wire must +be carried from the overhead line to the chestnut-tree. Creake has +everything in his favour, but it is just within possibility that +the driver of an inopportune tram might notice the appendage. What +of that? Why, for more than a week he has seen a derelict kite with +its yards of trailing string hanging in the tree. A very +calculating mind, Mr Hollyer. It would be interesting to know what +line of action Mr Creake has mapped out for himself afterwards. I +expect he has half-a-dozen artistic little touches up his sleeve. +Possibly he would merely singe his wife’s hair, burn her feet +with a red-hot poker, shiver the glass of the French window, and be +content with that to let well alone. You see, lightning is so +varied in its effects that whatever he did or did not do would be +right. He is in the impregnable position of the body showing all +the symptoms of death by lightning shock and nothing else but +lightning to account for it—a dilated eye, heart contracted +in systole, bloodless lungs shrunk to a third the normal weight, +and all the rest of it. When he has removed a few outward traces of +his work Creake might quite safely ‘discover’ his dead +wife and rush off for the nearest doctor. Or he may have decided to +arrange a convincing alibi, and creep away, leaving the discovery +to another. We shall never know; he will make no +confession.”</p> +<p>“I wish it was well over,” admitted Hollyer. +“I’m not particularly jumpy, but this gives me a touch +of the creeps.”</p> +<p>“Three more hours at the worst, Lieutenant,” said +Carrados cheerfully. “Ah-ha, something is coming through +now.”</p> +<p>He went to the telephone and received a message from one +quarter; then made another connection and talked for a few minutes +with someone else.</p> +<p>“Everything working smoothly,” he remarked between +times over his shoulder. “Your sister has gone to bed, Mr +Hollyer.”</p> +<p>Then he turned to the house telephone and distributed his +orders.</p> +<p>“So we,” he concluded, “must get +up.”</p> +<p>By the time they were ready a large closed motor car was +waiting. The lieutenant thought he recognized Parkinson in the +well-swathed form beside the driver, but there was no temptation to +linger for a second on the steps. Already the stinging rain had +lashed the drive into the semblance of a frothy estuary; all round +the lightning jagged its course through the incessant tremulous +glow of more distant lightning, while the thunder only ceased its +muttering to turn at close quarters and crackle viciously.</p> +<p>“One of the few things I regret missing,” remarked +Carrados tranquilly; “but I hear a good deal of colour in +it.”</p> +<p>The car slushed its way down to the gate, lurched a little +heavily across the dip into the road, and, steadying as it came +upon the straight, began to hum contentedly along the deserted +highway.</p> +<p>“We are not going direct?” suddenly inquired +Hollyer, after they had travelled perhaps half-a-dozen miles. The +night was bewildering enough but he had the sailor’s gift for +location.</p> +<p>“No; through Hunscott Green and then by a field-path to +the orchard at the back,” replied Carrados. “Keep a +sharp look out for the man with the lantern about here, +Harris,” he called through the tube.</p> +<p>“Something flashing just ahead, sir,” came the +reply, and the car slowed down and stopped.</p> +<p>Carrados dropped the near window as a man in glistening +waterproof stepped from the shelter of a lich-gate and +approached.</p> +<p>“Inspector Beedel, sir,” said the stranger, looking +into the car.</p> +<p>“Quite right, Inspector,” said Carrados. “Get +in.”</p> +<p>“I have a man with me, sir.”</p> +<p>“We can find room for him as well.”</p> +<p>“We are very wet.”</p> +<p>“So shall we all be soon.”</p> +<p>The lieutenant changed his seat and the two burly forms took +places side by side. In less than five minutes the car stopped +again, this time in a grassy country lane.</p> +<p>“Now we have to face it,” announced Carrados. +“The inspector will show us the way.”</p> +<p>The car slid round and disappeared into the night, while Beedel +led the party to a stile in the hedge. A couple of fields brought +them to the Brookbend boundary. There a figure stood out of the +black foliage, exchanged a few words with their guide and piloted +them along the shadows of the orchard to the back door of the +house.</p> +<p>“You will find a broken pane near the catch of the +scullery window,” said the blind man.</p> +<p>“Right, sir,” replied the inspector. “I have +it. Now who goes through?”</p> +<p>“Mr Hollyer will open the door for us. I’m afraid +you must take off your boots and all wet things, Lieutenant. We +cannot risk a single spot inside.”</p> +<p>They waited until the back door opened, then each one divested +himself in a similar manner and passed into the kitchen, where the +remains of a fire still burned. The man from the orchard gathered +together the discarded garments and disappeared again.</p> +<p>Carrados turned to the lieutenant.</p> +<p>“A rather delicate job for you now, Mr Hollyer. I want you +to go up to your sister, wake her, and get her into another room +with as little fuss as possible. Tell her as much as you think fit +and let her understand that her very life depends on absolute +stillness when she is alone. Don’t be unduly hurried, but not +a glimmer of a light, please.”</p> +<p>Ten minutes passed by the measure of the battered old alarum on +the dresser shelf before the young man returned.</p> +<p>“I’ve had rather a time of it,” he reported, +with a nervous laugh, “but I think it will be all right now. +She is in the spare room.”</p> +<p>“Then we will take our places. You and Parkinson come with +me to the bedroom. Inspector, you have your own arrangements. Mr +Carlyle will be with you.”</p> +<p>They dispersed silently about the house. Hollyer glanced +apprehensively at the door of the spare room as they passed it but +within was as quiet as the grave. Their room lay at the other end +of the passage.</p> +<p>“You may as well take your place in the bed now, +Hollyer,” directed Carrados when they were inside and the +door closed. “Keep well down among the clothes. Creake has to +get up on the balcony, you know, and he will probably peep through +the window, but he dare come no farther. Then when he begins to +throw up stones slip on this dressing-gown of your sister’s. +I’ll tell you what to do after.”</p> +<p>The next sixty minutes drew out into the longest hour that the +lieutenant had ever known. Occasionally he heard a whisper pass +between the two men who stood behind the window curtains, but he +could see nothing. Then Carrados threw a guarded remark in his +direction.</p> +<p>“He is in the garden now.”</p> +<p>Something scraped slightly against the outer wall. But the night +was full of wilder sounds, and in the house the furniture and the +boards creaked and sprung between the yawling of the wind among the +chimneys, the rattle of the thunder and the pelting of the rain. It +was a time to quicken the steadiest pulse, and when the crucial +moment came, when a pebble suddenly rang against the pane with a +sound that the tense waiting magnified into a shivering crash, +Hollyer leapt from the bed on the instant.</p> +<p>“Easy, easy,” warned Carrados feelingly. “We +will wait for another knock.” He passed something across. +“Here is a rubber glove. I have cut the wire but you had +better put it on. Stand just for a moment at the window, move the +catch so that it can blow open a little, and drop immediately. +Now.”</p> +<p>Another stone had rattled against the glass. For Hollyer to go +through his part was the work merely of seconds, and with a few +touches Carrados spread the dressing-gown to more effective +disguise about the extended form. But an unforeseen and in the +circumstances rather horrible interval followed, for Creake, in +accordance with some detail of his never-revealed plan, continued +to shower missile after missile against the panes until even the +unimpressionable Parkinson shivered.</p> +<p>“The last act,” whispered Carrados, a moment after +the throwing had ceased. “He has gone round to the back. Keep +as you are. We take cover now.” He pressed behind the arras +of an extemporized wardrobe, and the spirit of emptiness and +desolation seemed once more to reign over the lonely house.</p> +<p>From half-a-dozen places of concealment ears were straining to +catch the first guiding sound. He moved very stealthily, burdened, +perhaps, by some strange scruple in the presence of the tragedy +that he had not feared to contrive, paused for a moment at the +bedroom door, then opened it very quietly, and in the fickle light +read the consummation of his hopes.</p> +<p>“At last!” they heard the sharp whisper drawn from +his relief. “At last!”</p> +<p>He took another step and two shadows seemed to fall upon him +from behind, one on either side. With primitive instinct a cry of +terror and surprise escaped him as he made a desperate movement to +wrench himself free, and for a short second he almost succeeded in +dragging one hand into a pocket. Then his wrists slowly came +together and the handcuffs closed.</p> +<p>“I am Inspector Beedel,” said the man on his right +side. “You are charged with the attempted murder of your +wife, Millicent Creake.”</p> +<p>“You are mad,” retorted the miserable creature, +falling into a desperate calmness. “She has been struck by +lightning.”</p> +<p>“No, you blackguard, she hasn’t,” wrathfully +exclaimed his brother-in-law, jumping up. “Would you like to +see her?”</p> +<p>“I also have to warn you,” continued the inspector +impassively, “that anything you say may be used as evidence +against you.”</p> +<p>A startled cry from the farther end of the passage arrested +their attention.</p> +<p>“Mr Carrados,” called Hollyer, “oh, come at +once.”</p> +<p>At the open door of the other bedroom stood the lieutenant, his +eyes still turned towards something in the room beyond, a little +empty bottle in his hand.</p> +<p>“Dead!” he exclaimed tragically, with a sob, +“with this beside her. Dead just when she would have been +free of the brute.”</p> +<p>The blind man passed into the room, sniffed the air, and laid a +gentle hand on the pulseless heart.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he replied. “That, Hollyer, does not +always appeal to the woman, strange to say.”</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CLEVER_MRS_STRAITHWAITE" id= +"THE_CLEVER_MRS_STRAITHWAITE"></a>THE CLEVER MRS STRAITHWAITE</h2> +<p>Mr Carlyle had arrived at The Turrets in the very best possible +spirits. Everything about him, from his immaculate white spats to +the choice gardenia in his buttonhole, from the brisk decision with +which he took the front-door steps to the bustling importance with +which he had positively brushed Parkinson aside at the door of the +library, proclaimed consequence and the extremely good terms on +which he stood with himself.</p> +<p>“Prepare yourself, Max,” he exclaimed. “If I +hinted at a case of exceptional delicacy that will certainly +interest you by its romantic +possibilities——?”</p> +<p>“I should have the liveliest misgivings. Ten to one it +would be a jewel mystery,” hazarded Carrados, as his friend +paused with the point of his communication withheld, after the +manner of a quizzical youngster with a promised bon-bon held behind +his back. “If you made any more of it I should reluctantly be +forced to the conclusion that the case involved a society scandal +connected with a priceless pearl necklace.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle’s face fell.</p> +<p>“Then it <i>is</i> in the papers, after all?” he said, with +an air of disappointment.</p> +<p>“What is in the papers, Louis?”</p> +<p>“Some hint of the fraudulent insurance of the Hon. Mrs +Straithwaite’s pearl necklace,” replied Carlyle.</p> +<p>“Possibly,” admitted Carrados. “But so far I +have not come across it.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle stared at his friend, and marching up to the table +brought his hand down on it with an arresting slap.</p> +<p>“Then what in the name of goodness are you talking about, +may I ask?” he demanded caustically. “If you know +nothing of the Straithwaite affair, Max, what other pearl necklace +case are you referring to?”</p> +<p>Carrados assumed the air of mild deprecation with which he +frequently apologized for a blind man venturing to make a +discovery.</p> +<p>“A philosopher once made the +remark——”</p> +<p>“Had it anything to do with Mrs +Straithwaite’s—the Hon. Mrs +Straithwaite’s—pearl necklace? And let me warn you, +Max, that I have read a good deal both of Mill and Spencer at odd +times.”</p> +<p>“It was neither Mill nor Spencer. He had a German name, so +I will not mention it. He made the observation, which, of course, +we recognize as an obvious commonplace when once it has been +expressed, that in order to have an accurate knowledge of what a +man will do on any occasion it is only necessary to study a single +characteristic action of his.”</p> +<p>“Utterly impracticable,” declared Mr Carlyle.</p> +<p>“I therefore knew that when you spoke of a case of +exceptional interest to <i>me</i>, what you really meant, Louis, +was a case of exceptional interest to <i>you</i>.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle’s sudden thoughtful silence seemed to admit +that possibly there might be something in the point.</p> +<p>“By applying, almost unconsciously, the same useful rule, +I became aware that a mystery connected with a valuable pearl +necklace and a beautiful young society belle would appeal the most +strongly to your romantic imagination.”</p> +<p>“Romantic! I, romantic? Thirty-five and a private inquiry +agent! You are—positively feverish, Max.”</p> +<p>“Incurably romantic—or you would have got over it by +now: the worst kind.”</p> +<p>“Max, this may prove a most important and interesting +case. Will you be serious and discuss it?”</p> +<p>“Jewel cases are rarely either important or interesting. +Pearl necklace mysteries, in nine cases out of ten, spring from the +miasma of social pretence and vapid competition and only concern +people who do not matter in the least. The only attractive thing +about them is the name. They are so barren of originality that a +criminological Linnæus could classify them with absolute nicety. +I’ll tell you what, we’ll draw up a set of tables +giving the solution to every possible pearl necklace case for the +next twenty-one years.”</p> +<p>“We will do any mortal thing you like, Max, if you will +allow Parkinson to administer a bromo-seltzer and then enable me to +meet the officials of the Direct Insurance without a +blush.”</p> +<p>For three minutes Carrados picked his unerring way among the +furniture as he paced the room silently but with irresolution in +his face. Twice his hand went to a paper-covered book lying on his +desk, and twice he left it untouched.</p> +<p>“Have you ever been in the lion-house at feeding-time, +Louis?” he demanded abruptly.</p> +<p>“In the very remote past, possibly,” admitted Mr +Carlyle guardedly.</p> +<p>“As the hour approaches it is impossible to interest the +creatures with any other suggestion than that of raw meat. You came +a day too late, Louis.” He picked up the book and skimmed it +adroitly into Mr Carlyle’s hands. “I have already +scented the gore, and tasted in imagination the joy of tearing +choice morsels from other similarly obsessed animals.”</p> +<p>“‘Catalogue des monnaies grecques et +romaines,’” read the gentleman. “‘To be +sold by auction at the Hotel Drouet, Paris, salle 8, April the +24th, 25th, etc.’ H’m.” He turned to the plates +of photogravure illustration which gave an air to the volume. +“This is an event, I suppose?”</p> +<p>“It is the sort of dispersal we get about once in three +years,” replied Carrados. “I seldom attend the little +sales, but I save up and then have a week’s orgy.”</p> +<p>“And when do you go?”</p> +<p>“To-day. By the afternoon boat—Folkestone. I have +already taken rooms at Mascot’s. I’m sorry it has +fallen so inopportunely, Louis.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle rose to the occasion with a display of extremely +gentlemanly feeling—which had the added merit of being quite +genuine.</p> +<p>“My dear chap, your regrets only serve to remind me how +much I owe to you already. <i>Bon voyage</i>, and the most +desirable of Eu—Eu—well, perhaps it would be safer to +say, of Kimons, for your collection.”</p> +<p>“I suppose,” pondered Carrados, “this +insurance business might have led to other profitable +connexions?”</p> +<p>“That is quite true,” admitted his friend. “I +have been trying for some time—but do not think any more of +it, Max.”</p> +<p>“What time is it?” demanded Carrados suddenly.</p> +<p>“Eleven-twenty-five.”</p> +<p>“Good. Has any officious idiot had anyone +arrested?”</p> +<p>“No, it is only——”</p> +<p>“Never mind. Do you know much of the case?”</p> +<p>“Practically nothing as yet, unfortunately. I +came——”</p> +<p>“Excellent. Everything is on our side. Louis, I +won’t go this afternoon—I will put off till the night +boat from Dover. That will give us nine hours.”</p> +<p>“Nine hours?” repeated the mystified Carlyle, +scarcely daring to put into thought the scandalous inference that +Carrados’s words conveyed.</p> +<p>“Nine full hours. A pearl necklace case that cannot at +least be left straight after nine hours’ work will require a +column to itself in our chart. Now, Louis, where does this Direct +Insurance live?”</p> +<p>Carlyle had allowed his blind friend to persuade him +into—as they had seemed at the beginning—many mad +enterprises. But none had ever, in the light of his own experience, +seemed so foredoomed to failure as when, at eleven-thirty, Carrados +ordered his luggage to be on the platform of Charing Cross Station +at eight-fifty and then turned light-heartedly to the task of +elucidating the mystery of Mrs Straithwaite’s pearl necklace +in the interval.</p> +<p>The head office of the Direct and Intermediate Insurance Company +proved to be in Victoria Street. Thanks to Carrados’s +speediest car, they entered the building as the clocks of +Westminster were striking twelve, but for the next twenty minutes +they were consigned to the general office while Mr Carlyle fumed +and displayed his watch ostentatiously. At last a clerk slid off +his stool by the speaking-tube and approached them.</p> +<p>“Mr Carlyle?” he said. “The General Manager +will see you now, but as he has another appointment in ten minutes +he will be glad if you will make your business as short as +possible. This way, please.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle bit his lip at the pompous formality of the message +but he was too experienced to waste any words about it and with a +mere nod he followed, guiding his friend until they reached the +Manager’s room. But, though subservient to circumstance, he +was far from being negligible when he wished to create an +impression.</p> +<p>“Mr Carrados has been good enough to give us a +consultation over this small affair,” he said, with just the +necessary touches of deference and condescension that it was +impossible either to miss or to resent. “Unfortunately he can +do little more as he has to leave almost at once to direct an +important case in Paris.”</p> +<p>The General Manager conveyed little, either in his person or his +manner, of the brisk precision that his message seemed to promise. +The name of Carrados struck him as being somewhat +familiar—something a little removed from the routine of his +business and a matter therefore that he could unbend over. He +continued to stand comfortably before his office fire, making up by +a tolerant benignity of his hard and bulbous eye for the physical +deprivation that his attitude entailed on his visitors.</p> +<p>“Paris, egad?” he grunted. “Something in your +line that France can take from us since the days +of—what’s-his-name—Vidocq, eh? Clever fellow, +that, what? Wasn’t it about him and the Purloined +Letter?”</p> +<p>Carrados smiled discreetly.</p> +<p>“Capital, wasn’t it?” he replied. “But +there is something else that Paris can learn from London, more in +your way, sir. Often when I drop in to see the principal of one of +their chief houses or the head of a Government department, we fall +into an entertaining discussion of this or that subject that may be +on the tapis. ‘Ah, monsieur,’ I say, after perhaps +half-an-hour’s conversation, ‘it is very amiable of you +and sometimes I regret our insular methods, but it is not thus that +great businesses are formed. At home, if I call upon one of our +princes of industry—a railway director, a merchant, or the +head of one of our leading insurance companies—nothing will +tempt him for a moment from the stern outline of the business in +hand. You are too complaisant; the merest gossip takes advantage of +you.’”</p> +<p>“That’s quite true,” admitted the General +Manager, occupying the revolving chair at his desk and assuming a +serious and very determined expression. “Slackers, I call +them. Now, Mr Carlyle, where are we in this business?”</p> +<p>“I have your letter of yesterday. We should naturally like +all the particulars you can give us.”</p> +<p>The Manager threw open a formidable-looking volume with an +immense display of energy, sharply flattened some typewritten pages +that had ventured to raise their heads, and lifted an impressive +finger.</p> +<p>“We start here, the 27th of January. On that day Karsfeld, +the Princess Street jeweller, y’know, who acted as our +jewellery assessor, forwards a proposal of the Hon. Mrs +Straithwaite to insure a pearl necklace against theft. Says that he +has had an opportunity of examining it and passes it at five +thousand pounds. That business goes through in the ordinary way; +the premium is paid and the policy taken out.</p> +<p>“A couple of months later Karsfeld has a little +unpleasantness with us and resigns. Resignation accepted. We have +nothing against him, you understand. At the same time there is an +impression among the directors that he has been perhaps a little +too easy in his ways, a little too—let us say, expansive, in +some of his valuations and too accommodating to his own clients in +recommending to us business of a—well—speculative +basis; business that we do not care about and which we now feel is +foreign to our traditions as a firm. However”—the +General Manager threw apart his stubby hands as though he would +shatter any fabric of criminal intention that he might be supposed +to be insidiously constructing—“that is the extent of +our animadversion against Karsfeld. There are no irregularities and +you may take it from me that the man is all right.”</p> +<p>“You would propose accepting the fact that a +five-thousand-pound necklace was submitted to him?” suggested +Mr Carlyle.</p> +<p>“I should,” acquiesced the Manager, with a weighty +nod. “Still—this brings us to April the +third—this break, so to speak, occurring in our routine, it +seemed a good opportunity for us to assure ourselves on one or two +points. Mr Bellitzer—you know Bellitzer, of course; know +<i>of</i> him, I should say—was appointed <i>vice</i> +Karsfeld and we wrote to certain of our clients, asking +them—as our policies entitled us to do—as a matter of +form to allow Mr Bellitzer to confirm the assessment of his +predecessor. Wrapped it up in silver paper, of course; said it +would certify the present value and be a guarantee that would save +them some formalities in case of ensuing claim, and so on. Among +others, wrote to the Hon. Mrs Straithwaite to that +effect—April fourth. Here is her reply of three days later. +Sorry to disappoint us, but the necklace has just been sent to her +bank for custody as she is on the point of leaving town. Also +scarcely sees that it is necessary in her case as the insurance was +only taken so recently.”</p> +<p>“That is dated April the seventh?” inquired Mr +Carlyle, busy with pencil and pocket-book.</p> +<p>“April seventh,” repeated the Manager, noting this +conscientiousness with an approving glance and then turning to +regard questioningly the indifferent attitude of his other visitor. +“That put us on our guard—naturally. Wrote by return +regretting the necessity and suggesting that a line to her bankers, +authorizing them to show us the necklace, would meet the case and +save her any personal trouble. Interval of a week. Her reply, April +sixteenth. Thursday last. Circumstances have altered her plans and +she has returned to London sooner than she expected. Her jewel-case +has been returned from the bank, and will we send our man +round—‘our man,’ Mr Carlyle!—on Saturday +morning not later than twelve, please.”</p> +<p>The Manager closed the record book, with a sweep of his hand +cleared his desk for revelations, and leaning forward in his chair +fixed Mr Carlyle with a pragmatic eye.</p> +<p>“On Saturday Mr Bellitzer goes to Luneburg Mansions and +the Hon. Mrs Straithwaite shows him the necklace. He examines it +carefully, assesses its insurable value up to five thousand, two +hundred and fifty pounds, and reports us to that effect. But he +reports something else, Mr Carlyle. It is not the necklace that the +lady had insured.”</p> +<p>“Not the necklace?” echoed Mr Carlyle.</p> +<p>“No. In spite of the number of pearls and a general +similarity there are certain technical differences, well known to +experts, that made the fact indisputable. The Hon. Mrs Straithwaite +has been guilty of misrepresentation. Possibly she has no +fraudulent intention. We are willing to pay to find out. +That’s your business.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle made a final note and put away his book with an air +of decision that could not fail to inspire confidence.</p> +<p>“To-morrow,” he said, “we shall perhaps be able +to report something.”</p> +<p>“Hope so,” vouchsafed the Manager. +“’Morning.”</p> +<p>From his position near the window, Carrados appeared to wake up +to the fact that the interview was over.</p> +<p>“But so far,” he remarked blandly, with his eyes +towards the great man in the chair, “you have told us nothing +of the theft.”</p> +<p>The Manager regarded the speaker dumbly for a moment and then +turned to Mr Carlyle.</p> +<p>“What does he mean?” he demanded pungently.</p> +<p>But for once Mr Carlyle’s self-possession had forsaken +him. He recognized that somehow Carrados had been guilty of an +appalling lapse, by which his reputation for prescience was wrecked +in that quarter for ever, and at the catastrophe his very ears +began to exude embarrassment.</p> +<p>In the awkward silence Carrados himself seemed to recognize that +something was amiss.</p> +<p>“We appear to be at cross-purposes,” he observed. +“I inferred that the disappearance of the necklace would be +the essence of our investigation.”</p> +<p>“Have I said a word about it disappearing?” demanded +the Manager, with a contempt-laden raucity that he made no pretence +of softening. “You don’t seem to have grasped the +simple facts about the case, Mr Carrados. Really, I hardly +think——Oh, come in!”</p> +<p>There had been a knock at the door, then another. A clerk now +entered with an open telegram.</p> +<p>“Mr Longworth wished you to see this at once, +sir.”</p> +<p>“We may as well go,” whispered Mr Carlyle with +polite depression to his colleague.</p> +<p>“Here, wait a minute,” said the Manager, who had +been biting his thumb-nail over the telegram. “No, not +you”—to the lingering clerk—“you +clear.” Much of the embarrassment that had troubled Mr +Carlyle a minute before seemed to have got into the Manager’s +system. “I don’t understand this,” he confessed +awkwardly. “It’s from Bellitzer. He wires: +‘<i>Have just heard alleged robbery Straithwaite pearls. +Advise strictest investigation.</i>’”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle suddenly found it necessary to turn to the wall and +consult a highly coloured lithographic inducement to insure. Mr +Carrados alone remained to meet the Manager’s constrained +glance.</p> +<p>“Still, <i>he</i> tells us really nothing about the +theft,” he remarked sociably.</p> +<p>“No,” admitted the Manager, experiencing some little +difficulty with his breathing, “he does not.”</p> +<p>“Well, we still hope to be able to report something +to-morrow. Good-bye.”</p> +<p>It was with an effort that Mr Carlyle straightened himself +sufficiently to take leave of the Manager. Several times in the +corridor he stopped to wipe his eyes.</p> +<p>“Max, you unholy fraud,” he said, when they were +outside, “you knew all the time.”</p> +<p>“No; I told you that I knew nothing of it,” replied +Carrados frankly. “I am absolutely sincere.”</p> +<p>“Then all I can say is, that I see a good many things +happen that I don’t believe in.”</p> +<p>Carrados’s reply was to hold out a coin to a passing +newsboy and to hand the purchase to his friend who was already in +the car.</p> +<p>“There is a slang injunction to ‘keep your eyes +skinned.’ That being out of my power, I habitually +‘keep my ears skinned.’ You would be surprised to know +how very little you hear, Louis, and how much you miss. In the last +five minutes up there I have had three different newsboys’ +account of this development.”</p> +<p>“By Jupiter, she hasn’t waited long!” +exclaimed Mr Carlyle, referring eagerly to the headlines. +“‘PEARL NECKLACE SENSATION. SOCIETY LADY’S +₤5000 TRINKET DISAPPEARS.’ Things are moving. Where +next, Max?”</p> +<p>“It is now a quarter to one,” replied Carrados, +touching the fingers of his watch. “We may as well lunch on +the strength of this new turn. Parkinson will have finished +packing; I can telephone him to come to us at Merrick’s in +case I require him. Buy all the papers, Louis, and we will collate +the points.”</p> +<p>The undoubted facts that survived a comparison were few and +meagre, for in each case a conscientious journalist had touched up +a few vague or doubtful details according to his own ideas of +probability. All agreed that on Tuesday evening—it was now +Thursday—Mrs Straithwaite had formed one of a party that had +occupied a box at the new Metropolitan Opera House to witness the +performance of <i>La Pucella</i>, and that she had been robbed of a +set of pearls valued in round figures at five thousand pounds. +There agreement ended. One version represented the theft as taking +place at the theatre. Another asserted that at the last moment the +lady had decided not to wear the necklace that evening and that its +abstraction had been cleverly effected from the flat during her +absence. Into a third account came an ambiguous reference to +Markhams, the well-known jewellers, and a conjecture that their +loss would certainly be covered by insurance.</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle, who had been picking out the salient points of the +narratives, threw down the last paper with an impatient shrug.</p> +<p>“Why in heaven’s name have we Markhams coming into +it now?” he demanded. “What have they to lose by it, +Max? What do you make of the thing?”</p> +<p>“There is the second genuine string—the one +Bellitzer saw. That belongs to someone.”</p> +<p>“By gad, that’s true—only five days ago, too. +But what does our lady stand to make by that being +stolen?”</p> +<p>Carrados was staring into obscurity between an occasional moment +of attention to his cigarette or coffee.</p> +<p>“By this time the lady probably stands to wish she was +well out of it,” he replied thoughtfully. “Once you +have set this sort of stone rolling and it has got beyond +you——” He shook his head.</p> +<p>“It has become more intricate than you expected?” +suggested Carlyle, in order to afford his friend an opportunity of +withdrawing.</p> +<p>Carrados pierced the intention and smiled affectionately.</p> +<p>“My dear Louis,” he said, “one-fifth of the +mystery is already solved.”</p> +<p>“One-fifth? How do you arrive at that?”</p> +<p>“Because it is one-twenty-five and we started at +eleven-thirty.”</p> +<p>He nodded to their waiter, who was standing three tables away, +and paid the bill. Then with perfect gravity he permitted Mr +Carlyle to lead him by the arm into the street, where their car was +waiting, Parkinson already there in attendance.</p> +<p>“Sure I can be of no further use?” asked Carlyle. +Carrados had previously indicated that after lunch he would go on +alone, but, because he was largely sceptical of the outcome, the +professional man felt guiltily that he was deserting. “Say +the word?”</p> +<p>Carrados smiled and shook his head. Then he leaned across.</p> +<p>“I am going to the opera house now; then, possibly, to +talk to Markham a little. If I have time I must find a man who +knows the Straithwaites, and after that I may look up Inspector +Beedel if he is at the Yard. That is as far as I can see yet, until +I call at Luneburg Mansions. Come round on the third +anyway.”</p> +<p>“Dear old chap,” murmured Mr Carlyle, as the car +edged its way ahead among the traffic. “Marvellous shots he +makes!”</p> +<p>In the meanwhile, at Luneburg Mansions, Mrs Straithwaite had +been passing anything but a pleasant day. She had awakened with a +headache and an overnight feeling that there was some +unpleasantness to be gone on with. That it did not amount to actual +fear was due to the enormous self-importance and the incredible +ignorance which ruled the butterfly brain of the young society +beauty—for in spite of three years’ experience of +married life Stephanie Straithwaite was as yet on the enviable side +of two and twenty.</p> +<p>Anticipating an early visit from a particularly obnoxious +sister-in-law, she had remained in bed until after lunch in order +to be able to deny herself with the more conviction. Three +journalists who would have afforded her the mild excitement of +being interviewed had called and been in turn put off with polite +regrets by her husband. The objectionable sister-in-law postponed +her visit until the afternoon and for more than an hour Stephanie +“suffered agonies.” When the visitor had left and the +martyred hostess announced her intention of flying immediately to +the consoling society of her own bridge circle, Straithwaite had +advised her, with some significance, to wait for a lead. The +unhappy lady cast herself bodily down upon a couch and asked +whether she was to become a nun. Straithwaite merely shrugged his +shoulders and remembered a club engagement. Evidently there was no +need for him to become a monk: Stephanie followed him down the +hall, arguing and protesting. That was how they came jointly to +encounter Carrados at the door.</p> +<p>“I have come from the Direct Insurance in the hope of +being able to see Mrs Straithwaite,” he explained, when the +door opened rather suddenly before he had knocked. “My name +is Carrados—Max Carrados.”</p> +<p>There was a moment of hesitation all round. Then Stephanie read +difficulties in the straightening lines of her husband’s face +and rose joyfully to the occasion.</p> +<p>“Oh yes; come in, Mr Carrados,” she exclaimed +graciously. “We are not quite strangers, you know. You found +out something for Aunt Pigs; I forget what, but she was most +frantically impressed.”</p> +<p>“Lady Poges,” enlarged Straithwaite, who had stepped +aside and was watching the development with slow, calculating eyes. +“But, I say, you are blind, aren’t you?”</p> +<p>Carrados’s smiling admission turned the edge of Mrs +Straithwaite’s impulsive, “Teddy!”</p> +<p>“But I get along all right,” he added. “I left +my man down in the car and I found your door first shot, you +see.”</p> +<p>The references reminded the velvet-eyed little mercenary that +the man before her had the reputation of being quite desirably +rich, his queer taste merely an eccentric hobby. The consideration +made her resolve to be quite her nicest possible, as she led the +way to the drawing-room. Then Teddy, too, had been horrid beyond +words and must be made to suffer in the readiest way that +offered.</p> +<p>“Teddy is just going out and I was to be left in solitary +bereavement if you had not appeared,” she explained airily. +“It wasn’t very compy only to come to see me on +business by the way, Mr Carrados, but if those are your only terms +I must agree.”</p> +<p>Straithwaite, however, did not seem to have the least intention +of going. He had left his hat and stick in the hall and he now +threw his yellow gloves down on a table and took up a negligent +position on the arm of an easy-chair.</p> +<p>“The thing is, where do we stand?” he remarked +tentatively.</p> +<p>“That is the attitude of the insurance company, I +imagine,” replied Carrados.</p> +<p>“I don’t see that the company has any standing in +the matter. We haven’t reported any loss to them and we are +not making any claim, so far. That ought to be enough.”</p> +<p>“I assume that they act on general inference,” +explained Carrados. “A limited liability company is not +subtle, Mrs Straithwaite. This one knows that you have insured a +five-thousand-pound pearl necklace with it, and when it becomes a +matter of common knowledge that you have had one answering to that +description stolen, it jumps to the conclusion that they are one +and the same.”</p> +<p>“But they aren’t—worse luck,” explained +the hostess. “This was a string that I let Markhams send me +to see if I would keep.”</p> +<p>“The one that Bellitzer saw last Saturday?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” admitted Mrs Straithwaite quite simply.</p> +<p>Straithwaite glanced sharply at Carrados and then turned his +eyes with lazy indifference to his wife.</p> +<p>“My dear Stephanie, what are you thinking of?” he +drawled. “Of course those could not have been Markhams’ +pearls. Not knowing that you are much too clever to do such a +foolish thing, Mr Carrados will begin to think that you have had +fraudulent designs upon his company.”</p> +<p>Whether the tone was designed to exasperate or merely fell upon +a fertile soil, Stephanie threw a hateful little glance in his +direction.</p> +<p>“I don’t care,” she exclaimed recklessly; +“I haven’t the least little objection in the world to +Mr Carrados knowing exactly how it happened.”</p> +<p>Carrados put in an instinctive word of warning, even raised an +arresting hand, but the lady was much too excited, too voluble, to +be denied.</p> +<p>“It doesn’t really matter in the least, Mr Carrados, +because nothing came of it,” she explained. “There +never were any real pearls to be insured. It would have made no +difference to the company, because I did not regard this as an +ordinary insurance from the first. It was to be a loan.”</p> +<p>“A loan?” repeated Carrados.</p> +<p>“Yes. I shall come into heaps and heaps of money in a few +years’ time under Prin-Prin’s will. Then I should pay +back whatever had been advanced.”</p> +<p>“But would it not have been better—simpler—to +have borrowed purely on the anticipation?”</p> +<p>“We have,” explained the lady eagerly. “We +have borrowed from all sorts of people, and both Teddy and I have +signed heaps and heaps of papers, until now no one will lend any +more.”</p> +<p>The thing was too tragically grotesque to be laughed at. +Carrados turned his face from one to the other and by ear, and by +even finer perceptions, he focussed them in his mind—the +delicate, feather-headed beauty, with the heart of a cat and the +irresponsibility of a kitten, eye and mouth already hardening under +the stress of her frantic life, and, across the room, her debonair +consort, whose lank pose and nonchalant attitude towards the +situation Carrados had not yet categorized.</p> +<p>Straithwaite’s dry voice, with its habitual drawl, broke +into his reflection.</p> +<p>“I don’t suppose for a moment that you either know +or care what this means, my dear girl, but I will proceed to +enlighten you. It means the extreme probability that unless you can +persuade Mr Carrados to hold his tongue, you, and—without +prejudice—I also, will get two years’ hard. And yet, +with unconscious but consummate artistry, it seems to me that you +have perhaps done the trick; for, unless I am mistaken, Mr Carrados +will find himself unable to take advantage of your guileless +confidence, whereas he would otherwise have quite easily found out +all he wanted.”</p> +<p>“That is the most utter nonsense, Teddy,” cried +Stephanie, with petulant indignation. She turned to Carrados with +the assurance of meeting understanding. “We know Mr Justice +Enderleigh very well indeed, and if there was any bother I should +not have the least difficulty in getting him to take the case +privately and in explaining everything to him. But why should there +be? Why indeed?” A brilliant little new idea possessed her. +“Do you know any of these insurance people at all intimately, +Mr Carrados?”</p> +<p>“The General Manager and I are on terms that almost +justify us in addressing each other as ‘silly +ass,’” admitted Carrados.</p> +<p>“There you see, Teddy, you needn’t have been in a +funk. Mr Carrados would put everything right. Let me tell you +exactly how I had arranged it. I dare say you know that insurances +are only too pleased to pay for losses: it gives them an +advertisement. Freddy Tantroy told me so, and his father is a +director of hundreds of companies. Only, of course, it must be done +quite regularly. Well, for months and months we had both been most +frightfully hard up, and, unfortunately, everyone else—at +least all our friends—seemed just as stony. I had been +absolutely racking my poor brain for an idea when I remembered +papa’s wedding present. It was a string of pearls that he +sent me from Vienna, only a month before he died; not real, of +course, because poor papa was always quite utterly on the verge +himself, but very good imitation and in perfect taste. Otherwise I +am sure papa would rather have sent a silver penwiper, for although +he had to live abroad because of what people said, his taste was +simply exquisite and he was most romantic in his ideas. What do you +say, Teddy?”</p> +<p>“Nothing, dear; it was only my throat ticking.”</p> +<p>“I wore the pearls often and millions of people had seen +them. Of course our own people knew about them, but others took it +for granted that they were genuine for me to be wearing them. Teddy +will tell you that I was almost babbling in delirium, things were +becoming so ghastly, when an idea occurred. +Tweety—she’s a cousin of Teddy’s, but quite an +aged person—has a whole coffer full of jewels that she never +wears and I knew that there was a necklace very like mine among +them. She was going almost immediately to Africa for some shooting, +so I literally flew into the wilds of Surrey and begged her on my +knees to lend me her pearls for the Lycester House dance. When I +got back with them I stamped on the clasp and took it at once to +Karsfeld in Princess Street. I told him they were only paste but I +thought they were rather good and I wanted them by the next day. +And of course he looked at them, and then looked again, and then +asked me if I was certain they were imitation, and I said, Well, we +had never thought twice about it, because poor papa was always +rather chronic, only certainly he did occasionally have fabulous +streaks at the tables, and finally, like a great owl, Karsfeld +said:</p> +<p>“‘I am happy to be able to congratulate you, madam. +They are undoubtedly Bombay pearls of very fine orient. They are +certainly worth five thousand pounds.’”</p> +<p>From this point Mrs Straithwaite’s narrative ran its +slangy, obvious course. The insurance effected—on the strict +understanding of the lady with herself that it was merely a novel +form of loan, and after satisfying her mind on Freddy +Tantroy’s authority that the Direct and Intermediate could +stand a temporary loss of five thousand pounds—the genuine +pearls were returned to the cousin in the wilds of Surrey and +Stephanie continued to wear the counterfeit. A decent interval was +allowed to intervene and the plot was on the point of maturity when +the company’s request for a scrutiny fell like a thunderbolt. +With many touching appeals to Mr Carrados to picture her frantic +distraction, with appropriate little gestures of agony and despair, +Stephanie described her absolute prostration, her subsequent wild +scramble through the jewel stocks of London to find a substitute. +The danger over, it became increasingly necessary to act without +delay, not only to anticipate possible further curiosity on the +part of the insurance, but in order to secure the means with which +to meet an impending obligation held over them by an inflexibly +obdurate Hebrew.</p> +<p>The evening of the previous Tuesday was to be the time; the +opera house, during the performance of <i>La Pucella</i>, the +place. Straithwaite, who was not interested in that precise form of +drama, would not be expected to be present, but with a false +moustache and a few other touches which his experience as an +amateur placed within his easy reach, he was to occupy a stall, an +end stall somewhere beneath his wife’s box. At an agreed +signal Stephanie would jerk open the catch of the necklace, and as +she leaned forward the ornament would trickle off her neck and +disappear into the arena beneath. Straithwaite, the only one +prepared for anything happening, would have no difficulty in +securing it. He would look up quickly as if to identify the box, +and with the jewels in his hand walk deliberately out into the +passage. Before anyone had quite realized what was happening he +would have left the house.</p> +<p>Carrados turned his face from the woman to the man.</p> +<p>“This scheme commended itself to you, Mr +Straithwaite?”</p> +<p>“Well, you see, Stephanie is so awfully clever that I took +it for granted that the thing would go all right.”</p> +<p>“And three days before, Bellitzer had already reported +misrepresentation and that two necklaces had been used!”</p> +<p>“Yes,” admitted Straithwaite, with an air of +reluctant candour, “I had a suspicion that Stephanie’s +native ingenuity rather fizzled there. You know, Stephanie dear, +there <i>is</i> a difference, it seems, between Bombay and +Californian pearls.”</p> +<p>“The wretch!” exclaimed the girl, grinding her +little teeth vengefully. “And we gave him +champagne!”</p> +<p>“But nothing came of it; so it doesn’t +matter?” prompted Straithwaite.</p> +<p>“Except that now Markhams’ pearls have gone and they +are hinting at all manner of diabolical things,” she +wrathfully reminded him.</p> +<p>“True,” he confessed. “That is by way of a +sequel, Mr Carrados. I will endeavour to explain that part of the +incident, for even yet Stephanie seems unable to do me +justice.”</p> +<p>He detached himself from the arm of the chair and lounged across +the room to another chair, where he took up exactly the same +position.</p> +<p>“On the fatal evening I duly made my way to the +theatre—a little late, so as to take my seat unobserved. +After I had got the general hang I glanced up occasionally until I +caught Stephanie’s eye, by which I knew that she was there +all right and concluded that everything was going along quite +jollily. According to arrangement, I was to cross the theatre +immediately the first curtain fell and standing opposite +Stephanie’s box twist my watch chain until it was certain +that she had seen me. Then Stephanie was to fan herself three times +with her programme. Both, you will see, perfectly innocent +operations, and yet conveying to each other the intimation that all +was well. Stephanie’s idea, of course. After that, I would +return to my seat and Stephanie would do her part at the first +opportunity in Act II.</p> +<p>“However, we never reached that. Towards the end of the +first act something white and noiseless slipped down and fell at my +feet. For the moment I thought they were the pearls gone wrong. +Then I saw that it was a glove—a lady’s glove. +Intuition whispered that it was Stephanie’s before I touched +it. I picked it up and quietly got out. Down among the fingers was +a scrap of paper—the corner torn off a programme. On it were +pencilled words to this effect:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“‘Something quite unexpected. Can do nothing +to-night. Go back at once and wait. May return early. Frightfully +worried.—S.’”</p> +</div> +<p>“You kept the paper, of course?”</p> +<p>“Yes. It is in my desk in the next room. Do you care to +see it?”</p> +<p>“Please.”</p> +<p>Straithwaite left the room and Stephanie flung herself into a +charming attitude of entreaty.</p> +<p>“Mr Carrados, you will get them back for us, won’t +you? It would not really matter, only I seem to have signed +something and now Markhams threaten to bring an action against us +for culpable negligence in leaving them in an empty +flat.”</p> +<p>“You see,” explained Straithwaite, coming back in +time to catch the drift of his wife’s words, “except to +a personal friend like yourself, it is quite impossible to submit +these clues. The first one alone would raise embarrassing +inquiries; the other is beyond explanation. Consequently I have +been obliged to concoct an imaginary burglary in our absence and to +drop the necklace case among the rhododendrons in the garden at the +back, for the police to find.”</p> +<p>“Deeper and deeper,” commented Carrados.</p> +<p>“Why, yes. Stephanie and I are finding that out, +aren’t we, dear? However, here is the first note; also the +glove. Of course I returned immediately. It was Stephanie’s +strategy and I was under her orders. In something less than +half-an-hour I heard a motor car stop outside. Then the bell here +rang.</p> +<p>“I think I have said that I was alone. I went to the door +and found a man who might have been anything standing there. He +merely said: ‘Mr Straithwaite?’ and on my nodding +handed me a letter. I tore it open in the hall and read it. Then I +went into my room and read it again. This is it:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“‘<span class="smcap">Dear</span> +T.,—Absolutely ghastly. We simply must put off to-night. Will +explain that later. Now what do you think? Bellitzer is here in the +stalls and young K. D. has asked him to join us at supper at the +Savoy. It appears that the creature is Something and I suppose the +D.’s want to borrow off him. I can’t get out of it and +I am literally quaking. Don’t you see, he will spot +something? Send me the M. string at once and I will change somehow +before supper. I am scribbling this in the dark. I have got the +Willoughby’s man to take it. Don’t, don’t +fail.—S.’”</p> +</div> +<p>“It is ridiculous, preposterous,” snapped Stephanie. +“I never wrote a word of it—or the other. There was I, +sitting the whole evening. And Teddy—oh, it is +maddening!”</p> +<p>“I took it into my room and looked at it closely,” +continued the unruffled Straithwaite. “Even if I had any +reason to doubt, the internal evidence was convincing, but how +could I doubt? It read like a continuation of the previous message. +The writing was reasonably like Stephanie’s under the +circumstances, the envelope had obviously been obtained from the +box-office of the theatre and the paper itself was a sheet of the +programme. A corner was torn off; I put against it the previous +scrap and they exactly fitted.” The gentleman shrugged his +shoulders, stretched his legs with deliberation and walked across +the room to look out of the window. “I made them up into a +neat little parcel and handed it over,” he concluded.</p> +<p>Carrados put down the two pieces of paper which he had been +minutely examining with his finger-tips and still holding the glove +addressed his small audience collectively.</p> +<p>“The first and most obvious point is that whoever carried +out the scheme had more than a vague knowledge of your affairs, not +only in general but also relating to this—well, loan, Mrs +Straithwaite.”</p> +<p>“Just what I have insisted,” agreed Straithwaite. +“You hear that, Stephanie?”</p> +<p>“But who is there?” pleaded Stephanie, with weary +intonation. “Absolutely no one in the wide world. Not a +soul.”</p> +<p>“So one is liable to think offhand. Let us go further, +however, merely accounting for those who are in a position to have +information. There are the officials of the insurance company who +suspect something; there is Bellitzer, who perhaps knows a little +more. There is the lady in Surrey from whom the pearls were +borrowed, a Mr Tantroy who seems to have been consulted, and, +finally, your own servants. All these people have friends, or +underlings, or observers. Suppose Mr Bellitzer’s confidential +clerk happens to be the sweetheart of your maid?”</p> +<p>“They would still know very little.”</p> +<p>“The arc of a circle may be very little, but, given that, +it is possible to construct the entire figure. Now your servants, +Mrs Straithwaite? We are accusing no one, of course.”</p> +<p>“There is the cook, Mullins. She displayed alarming +influenza on Tuesday morning, and although it was most frightfully +inconvenient I packed her off home without a moment’s delay. +I have a horror of the influ. Then Fraser, the parlourmaid. She +does my hair—I haven’t really got a maid, you +know.”</p> +<p>“Peter,” prompted Straithwaite.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, Beta. She’s a daily girl and helps in the +kitchen. I have no doubt she is capable of any villainy.”</p> +<p>“And all were out on Tuesday evening?”</p> +<p>“Yes. Mullins gone home. Beta left early as there was no +dinner, and I told Fraser to take the evening after she had dressed +me so that Teddy could make up and get out without being +seen.”</p> +<p>Carrados turned to his other witness.</p> +<p>“The papers and the glove have been with you ever +since?”</p> +<p>“Yes, in my desk.”</p> +<p>“Locked?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“And this glove, Mrs Straithwaite? There is no doubt that +it is yours?”</p> +<p>“I suppose not,” she replied. “I never +thought. I know that when I came to leave the theatre one had +vanished and Teddy had it here.”</p> +<p>“That was the first time you missed it?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“But it might have gone earlier in the +evening—mislaid or lost or stolen?”</p> +<p>“I remember taking them off in the box. I sat in the +corner farthest from the stage—the front row, of +course—and I placed them on the support.”</p> +<p>“Where anyone in the next box could abstract one without +much difficulty at a favourable moment.”</p> +<p>“That is quite likely. But we didn’t see anyone in +the next box.”</p> +<p>“I have half an idea that I caught sight of someone +hanging back,” volunteered Straithwaite.</p> +<p>“Thank you,” said Carrados, turning towards him +almost gratefully. “That is most important—that you +think you saw someone hanging back. Now the other glove, Mrs +Straithwaite; what became of that?”</p> +<p>“An odd glove is not very much good, is it?” said +Stephanie. “Certainly I wore it coming back. I think I threw +it down somewhere in here. Probably it is still about. We are in a +frantic muddle and nothing is being done.”</p> +<p>The second glove was found on the floor in a corner. Carrados +received it and laid it with the other.</p> +<p>“You use a very faint and characteristic scent, I notice, +Mrs Straithwaite,” he observed.</p> +<p>“Yes; it is rather sweet, isn’t it? I don’t +know the name because it is in Russian. A friend in the Embassy +sent me some bottles from Petersburg.”</p> +<p>“But on Tuesday you supplemented it with something +stronger,” he continued, raising the gloves delicately one +after the other to his face.</p> +<p>“Oh, eucalyptus; rather,” she admitted. “I +simply drenched my handkerchief with it.”</p> +<p>“You have other gloves of the same pattern?”</p> +<p>“Have I? Now let me think! Did you give them to me, +Teddy?”</p> +<p>“No,” replied Straithwaite from the other end of the +room. He had lounged across to the window and his attitude detached +him from the discussion. “Didn’t Whitstable?” he +added shortly.</p> +<p>“Of course. Then there are three pairs, Mr Carrados, +because I never let Bimbi lose more than that to me at once, poor +boy.”</p> +<p>“I think you are rather tiring yourself out, +Stephanie,” warned her husband.</p> +<p>Carrados’s attention seemed to leap to the voice; then he +turned courteously to his hostess.</p> +<p>“I appreciate that you have had a trying time lately, Mrs +Straithwaite,” he said. “Every moment I have been +hoping to let you out of the witness-box——”</p> +<p>“Perhaps to-morrow——” began +Straithwaite, recrossing the room.</p> +<p>“Impossible; I leave town to-night,” replied +Carrados firmly. “You have three pairs of these gloves, Mrs +Straithwaite. Here is one. The other two——?”</p> +<p>“One pair I have not worn yet. The other—good +gracious, I haven’t been out since Tuesday! I suppose it is +in my glove-box.”</p> +<p>“I must see it, please.”</p> +<p>Straithwaite opened his mouth, but as his wife obediently rose +to her feet to comply he turned sharply away with the word +unspoken.</p> +<p>“These are they,” she said, returning.</p> +<p>“Mr Carrados and I will finish our investigation in my +room,” interposed Straithwaite, with quiet assertiveness. +“I should advise you to lie down for half-an-hour, Stephanie, +if you don’t want to be a nervous wreck to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“You must allow the culprit to endorse that good advice, +Mrs Straithwaite,” added Carrados. He had been examining the +second pair of gloves as they spoke and he now handed them back +again. “They are undoubtedly of the same set,” he +admitted, with extinguished interest, “and so our clue runs +out.”</p> +<p>“I hope you don’t mind,” apologized +Straithwaite, as he led his guest to his own smoking-room. +“Stephanie,” he confided, becoming more cordial as two +doors separated them from the lady, “is a creature of nerves +and indiscretions. She forgets. To-night she will not sleep. +To-morrow she will suffer.” Carrados divined the grin. +“So shall I!”</p> +<p>“On the contrary, pray accept my regrets,” said the +visitor. “Besides,” he continued, “there is +nothing more for me to do here, I suppose....”</p> +<p>“It is a mystery,” admitted Straithwaite, with +polite agreement. “Will you try a cigarette?”</p> +<p>“Thanks. Can you see if my car is below?” They +exchanged cigarettes and stood at the window lighting them.</p> +<p>“There is one point, by the way, that may have some +significance.” Carrados had begun to recross the room and +stopped to pick up the two fictitious messages. “You will +have noticed that this is the outside sheet of a programme. It is +not the most suitable for the purpose; the first inner sheet is +more convenient to write on, but there the date appears. You see +the inference? The programme was obtained +before——”</p> +<p>“Perhaps. Well——?” for Carrados had +broken off abruptly and was listening.</p> +<p>“You hear someone coming up the steps?”</p> +<p>“It is the general stairway.”</p> +<p>“Mr Straithwaite, I don’t know how far this has gone +in other quarters. We may only have a few seconds before we are +interrupted.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> +<p>“I mean that the man who is now on the stairs is a +policeman or has worn the uniform. If he stops at your +door——”</p> +<p>The heavy tread ceased. Then came the authoritative knock.</p> +<p>“Wait,” muttered Carrados, laying his hand +impressively on Straithwaite’s tremulous arm. “I may +recognize the voice.”</p> +<p>They heard the servant pass along the hall and the door +unlatched; then caught the jumble of a gruff inquiry.</p> +<p>“Inspector Beedel of Scotland Yard!” The servant +repassed their door on her way to the drawing-room. “It is no +good disguising the fact from you, Mr Straithwaite, that you may no +longer be at liberty. But I am. <i>Is there anything you wish +done?</i>”</p> +<p>There was no time for deliberation. Straithwaite was indeed +between the unenviable alternatives of the familiar proverb, but, +to do him justice, his voice had lost scarcely a ripple of its +usual sang-froid.</p> +<p>“Thanks,” he replied, taking a small stamped and +addressed parcel from his pocket, “you might drop this into +some obscure pillar-box, if you will.”</p> +<p>“The Markham necklace?”</p> +<p>“Exactly. I was going out to post it when you +came.”</p> +<p>“I am sure you were.”</p> +<p>“And if you could spare five minutes later—if I am +here——”</p> +<p>Carrados slid his cigarette-case under some papers on the +desk.</p> +<p>“I will call for that,” he assented. “Let us +say about half-past eight.”</p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<p>“I am still at large, you see, Mr Carrados; though after +reflecting on the studied formality of the inspector’s +business here, I imagine that you will scarcely be +surprised.”</p> +<p>“I have made it a habit,” admitted Carrados, +“never to be surprised.”</p> +<p>“However, I still want to cut a rather different figure in +your eyes. You regard me, Mr Carrados, either as a detected rogue +or a repentant ass?”</p> +<p>“Another excellent rule is never to form deductions from +uncertainties.”</p> +<p>Straithwaite made a gesture of mild impatience.</p> +<p>“You only give me ten minutes. If I am to put my case +before you, Mr Carrados, we cannot fence with phrases.... To-day +you have had an exceptional opportunity of penetrating into our +mode of life. You will, I do not doubt, have summed up our +perpetual indebtedness and the easy credit that our connexion +procures; Stephanie’s social ambitions and expensive +popularity; her utterly extravagant incapacity to see any other +possible existence; and my tacit acquiescence. You will, I know, +have correctly gauged her irresponsible, neurotic temperament, and +judged the result of it in conflict with my own. What possibly has +escaped you, for in society one has to disguise these things, is +that I still love my wife.</p> +<p>“When you dare not trust the soundness of your reins you +do not try to pull up a bolting horse. For three years I have +endeavoured to guide Stephanie round awkward comers with as little +visible restraint as possible. When we differ over any project upon +which she has set her heart Stephanie has one strong +argument.”</p> +<p>“That you no longer love her?”</p> +<p>“Well, perhaps; but more forcibly expressed. She rushes to +the top of the building—there are six floors, Mr Carrados, +and we are on the second—and climbing on to the banister she +announces her intention of throwing herself down into the basement. +In the meanwhile I have followed her and drag her back again. One +day I shall stay where I am and let her do as she +intends.”</p> +<p>“I hope not,” said Carrados gravely.</p> +<p>“Oh, don’t be concerned. She will then climb back +herself. But it will mark an epoch. It was by that threat that she +obtained my acquiescence to this scheme—that and the +certainty that she would otherwise go on without me. But I had no +intention of allowing her to land herself—to say nothing of +us both—behind the bars of a prison if I could help it. And, +above all, I wished to cure her of her fatuous delusion that she is +clever, in the hope that she may then give up being foolish.</p> +<p>“To fail her on the occasion was merely to postpone the +attempt. I conceived the idea of seeming to cooperate and at the +same time involving us in what appeared to be a clever +counter-fraud. The thought of the real loss will perhaps have a +good effect; the publicity will certainly prevent her from daring a +second ‘theft.’ A sordid story, Mr Carrados,” he +concluded. “Do not forget your cigarette-case in +reality.”</p> +<p>The paternal shake of Carrados’s head over the recital was +neutralized by his benevolent smile.</p> +<p>“Yes, yes,” he said. “I think we can classify +you, Mr Straithwaite. One point—the glove?”</p> +<p>“That was an afterthought. I had arranged the whole story +and the first note was to be brought to me by an attendant. Then, +on my way, in my overcoat pocket I discovered a pair of +Stephanie’s gloves which she had asked me to carry the day +before. The suggestion flashed—how much more convincing if I +could arrange for her to seem to drop the writing in that way. As +she said, the next box <i>was</i> empty; I merely took possession +of it for a few minutes and quietly drew across one of her gloves. +And that reminds me—of course there was nothing in it, but +your interest in them made me rather nervous.”</p> +<p>Carrados laughed outright. Then he stood up and held out his +hand.</p> +<p>“Good-night, Mr Straithwaite,” he said, with real +friendliness. “Let me give you the quaker’s advice: +Don’t attempt another conspiracy—but if you do, +don’t produce a ‘pair’ of gloves of which one is +still suggestive of scent, and the other identifiable with +eucalyptus!”</p> +<p>“Oh——!” said Straithwaite.</p> +<p>“Quite so. But at all hazard suppress a second pair that +has the same peculiarity. Think over what it must mean. +Good-bye.”</p> +<p>Twelve minutes later Mr Carlyle was called to the telephone.</p> +<p>“It is eight-fifty-five and I am at Charing Cross,” +said a voice he knew. “If you want local colour contrive an +excuse to be with Markham when the first post arrives +to-morrow.” A few more words followed, and an affectionate +valediction.</p> +<p>“One moment, my dear Max, one moment. Do I understand you +to say that you will post me on the report of the case from +Dover?”</p> +<p>“No, Louis,” replied Carrados, with cryptic +discrimination. “I only said that I will post you on <i>a</i> +report of the case from Dover.”</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LAST_EXPLOIT_OF_HARRY_THE_ACTOR" id= +"THE_LAST_EXPLOIT_OF_HARRY_THE_ACTOR"></a>THE LAST EXPLOIT OF HARRY +THE ACTOR</h2> +<p>The one insignificant fact upon which turned the following +incident in the joint experiences of Mr Carlyle and Max Carrados +was merely this: that having called upon his friend just at the +moment when the private detective was on the point of leaving his +office to go to the safe deposit in Lucas Street, Piccadilly, the +blind amateur accompanied him, and for ten minutes amused himself +by sitting quite quietly among the palms in the centre of the +circular hall while Mr Carlyle was occupied with his deed-box in +one of the little compartments provided for the purpose.</p> +<p>The Lucas Street depository was then (it has since been +converted into a picture palace) generally accepted as being one of +the strongest places in London. The front of the building was +constructed to represent a gigantic safe door, and under the +colloquial designation of “The Safe” the place had +passed into a synonym for all that was secure and impregnable. Half +of the marketable securities in the west of London were popularly +reported to have seen the inside of its coffers at one time or +another, together with the same generous proportion of family +jewels. However exaggerated an estimate this might be, the +substratum of truth was solid and auriferous enough to dazzle the +imagination. When ordinary safes were being carried bodily away +with impunity or ingeniously fused open by the scientifically +equipped cracksman, nervous bond-holders turned with relief to the +attractions of an establishment whose modest claim was summed up in +its telegraphic address: “Impregnable.” To it went also +the jewel-case between the lady’s social engagements, and +when in due course “the family” journeyed +north—or south, east or west—whenever, in short, the +London house was closed, its capacious storerooms received the +plate-chest as an established custom. Not a few traders +also—jewellers, financiers, dealers in pictures, antiques and +costly bijouterie, for instance—constantly used its +facilities for any stock that they did not requite immediately to +hand.</p> +<p>There was only one entrance to the place, an exaggerated +keyhole, to carry out the similitude of the safe-door alluded to. +The ground floor was occupied by the ordinary offices of the +company; all the strong-rooms and safes lay in the steel-cased +basement. This was reached both by a lift and by a flight of steps. +In either case the visitor found before him a grille of massive +proportions. Behind its bars stood a formidable commissionaire who +never left his post, his sole duty being to open and close the +grille to arriving and departing clients. Beyond this, a short +passage led into the round central hall where Carrados was waiting. +From this part, other passages radiated off to the vaults and +strong-rooms, each one barred from the hall by a grille scarcely +less ponderous than the first one. The doors of the various private +rooms put at the disposal of the company’s clients, and that +of the manager’s office, filled the wall-space between the +radiating passages. Everything was very quiet, everything looked +very bright, and everything seemed hopelessly impregnable.</p> +<p>“But I wonder?” ran Carrados’s dubious +reflection; as he reached this point.</p> +<p>“Sorry to have kept you so long, my dear Max,” broke +in Mr Carlyle’s crisp voice. He had emerged from his +compartment and was crossing the hall, deed-box in hand. +“Another minute and I will be with you.”</p> +<p>Carrados smiled and nodded and resumed his former expression, +which was merely that of an uninterested gentleman waiting +patiently for another. It is something of an attainment to watch +closely without betraying undue curiosity, but others of the +senses—hearing and smelling, for instance—can be keenly +engaged while the observer possibly has the appearance of falling +asleep.</p> +<p>“Now,” announced Mr Carlyle, returning briskly to +his friend’s chair, and drawing on his grey suede gloves.</p> +<p>“You are in no particular hurry?”</p> +<p>“No,” admitted the professional man, with the +slowness of mild surprise. “Not at all. What do you +propose?”</p> +<p>“It is very pleasant here,” replied Carrados +tranquilly. “Very cool and restful with this armoured steel +between us and the dust and scurry of the hot July afternoon above. +I propose remaining here for a few minutes longer.”</p> +<p>“Certainly,” agreed Mr Carlyle, taking the nearest +chair and eyeing Carrados as though he had a shrewd suspicion of +something more than met the ear. “I believe some very +interesting people rent safes here. We may encounter a bishop, or a +winning jockey, or even a musical comedy actress. Unfortunately it +seems to be rather a slack time.”</p> +<p>“Two men came down while you were in your cubicle,” +remarked Carrados casually. “The first took the lift. I +imagine that he was a middle-aged, rather portly man. He carried a +stick, wore a silk hat, and used spectacles for close sight. The +other came by the stairway. I infer that he arrived at the top +immediately after the lift had gone. He ran down the steps, so that +the two were admitted at the same time, but the second man, though +the more active of the pair, hung back for a moment in the passage +and the portly one was the first to go to his safe.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle’s knowing look expressed: “Go on, my +friend; you are coming to something.” But he merely +contributed an encouraging “Yes?”</p> +<p>“When you emerged just now our second man quietly opened +the door of his pen a fraction. Doubtless he looked out. Then he +closed it as quietly again. You were not his man, Louis.”</p> +<p>“I am grateful,” said Mr Carlyle expressively. +“What next, Louis?”</p> +<p>“That is all; they are still closeted.”</p> +<p>Both were silent for a moment. Mr Carlyle’s feeling was +one of unconfessed perplexity. So far the incident was utterly +trivial in his eyes; but he knew that the trifles which appeared +significant to Max had a way of standing out like signposts when +the time came to look back over an episode. Carrados’s +sightless faculties seemed indeed to keep him just a move ahead as +the game progressed.</p> +<p>“Is there really anything in it, Max?” he asked at +length.</p> +<p>“Who can say?” replied Carrados. “At least we +may wait to see them go. Those tin deed-boxes now. There is one to +each safe, I think?”</p> +<p>“Yes, so I imagine. The practice is to carry the box to +your private lair and there unlock it and do your business. Then +you lock it up again and take it back to your safe.”</p> +<p>“Steady! our first man,” whispered Carrados +hurriedly. “Here, look at this with me.” He opened a +paper—a prospectus—which he pulled from his pocket, and +they affected to study its contents together.</p> +<p>“You were about right, my friend,” muttered Mr +Carlyle, pointing to a paragraph of assumed interest. “Hat, +stick and spectacles. He is a clean-shaven, pink-faced old boy. I +believe—yes, I know the man by sight. He is a bookmaker in a +large way, I am told.”</p> +<p>“Here comes the other,” whispered Carrados.</p> +<p>The bookmaker passed across the hall, joined on his way by the +manager whose duty it was to counterlock the safe, and disappeared +along one of the passages. The second man sauntered up and down, +waiting his turn. Mr Carlyle reported his movements in an undertone +and described him. He was a younger man than the other, of medium +height, and passably well dressed in a quiet lounge suit, green +Alpine hat and brown shoes. By the time the detective had reached +his wavy chestnut hair, large and rather ragged moustache, and +sandy, freckled complexion, the first man had completed his +business and was leaving the place.</p> +<p>“It isn’t an exchange lay, at all events,” +said Mr Carlyle. “His inner case is only half the size of the +other and couldn’t possibly be substituted.”</p> +<p>“Come up now,” said Carrados, rising. “There +is nothing more to be learned down here.”</p> +<p>They requisitioned the lift and on the steps outside the +gigantic keyhole stood for a few minutes discussing an investment +as a couple of trustees or a lawyer and a client who were parting +there might do. Fifty yards away, a very large silk hat with a very +curly brim marked the progress of the bookmaker towards +Piccadilly.</p> +<p>The lift in the hall behind them swirled up again and the gate +clashed. The second man walked leisurely out and sauntered away +without a backward glance.</p> +<p>“He has gone in the opposite direction,” exclaimed +Mr Carlyle, rather blankly. “It isn’t the ‘lame +goat’ nor the ‘follow-me-on,’ nor even the homely +but efficacious sand-bag.”</p> +<p>“What colour were his eyes?” asked Carrados.</p> +<p>“Upon my word, I never noticed,” admitted the +other.</p> +<p>“Parkinson would have noticed,” was the severe +comment.</p> +<p>“I am not Parkinson,” retorted Mr Carlyle, with +asperity, “and, strictly as one dear friend to another, Max, +permit me to add, that while cherishing an unbounded admiration for +your remarkable gifts, I have the strongest suspicion that the +whole incident is a ridiculous mare’s nest, bred in the +fantastic imagination of an enthusiastic criminologist.”</p> +<p>Mr Carrados received this outburst with the utmost benignity. +“Come and have a coffee, Louis,” he suggested. +“Mehmed’s is only a street away.”</p> +<p>Mehmed proved to be a cosmopolitan gentleman from Mocha whose +shop resembled a house from the outside and an Oriental divan when +one was within. A turbaned Arab placed cigarettes and cups of +coffee spiced with saffron before the customers, gave salaam and +withdrew.</p> +<p>“You know, my dear chap,” continued Mr Carlyle, +sipping his black coffee and wondering privately whether it was +really very good or very bad, “speaking quite seriously, the +one fishy detail—our ginger friend’s watching for the +other to leave—may be open to a dozen very innocent +explanations.”</p> +<p>“So innocent that to-morrow I intend taking a safe +myself.”</p> +<p>“You think that everything is all right?”</p> +<p>“On the contrary, I am convinced that something is very +wrong.”</p> +<p>“Then why——?”</p> +<p>“I shall keep nothing there, but it will give me the +<i>entrée</i>. I should advise you, Louis, in the first +place to empty your safe with all possible speed, and in the second +to leave your business card on the manager.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle pushed his cup away, convinced now that the coffee +was really very bad.</p> +<p>“But, my dear Max, the place—‘The +Safe’—is impregnable!”</p> +<p>“When I was in the States, three years ago, the head +porter at one hotel took pains to impress on me that the building +was absolutely fireproof. I at once had my things taken off to +another hotel. Two weeks later the first place was burnt out. It +<i>was</i> fireproof, I believe, but of course the furniture and +the fittings were not and the walls gave way.”</p> +<p>“Very ingenious,” admitted Mr Carlyle, “but +why did you really go? You know you can’t humbug me with your +superhuman sixth sense, my friend.”</p> +<p>Carrados smiled pleasantly, thereby encouraging the watchful +attendant to draw near and replenish their tiny cups.</p> +<p>“Perhaps,” replied the blind man, “because so +many careless people were satisfied that it was +fireproof.”</p> +<p>“Ah-ha, there you are—the greater the confidence the +greater the risk. But only if your self-confidence results in +carelessness. Now do you know how this place is secured, +Max?”</p> +<p>“I am told that they lock the door at night,” +replied Carrados, with bland malice.</p> +<p>“And hide the key under the mat to be ready for the first +arrival in the morning,” crowed Mr Carlyle, in the same +playful spirit. “Dear old chap! Well, let me tell +you——”</p> +<p>“That force is out of the question. Quite so,” +admitted his friend.</p> +<p>“That simplifies the argument. Let us consider fraud. +There again the precautions are so rigid that many people pronounce +the forms a nuisance. I confess that I do not. I regard them as a +means of protecting my own property and I cheerfully sign my name +and give my password, which the manager compares with his +record-book before he releases the first lock of my safe. The +signature is burned before my eyes in a sort of crucible there, the +password is of my own choosing and is written only in a book that +no one but the manager ever sees, and my key is the sole one in +existence.”</p> +<p>“No duplicate or master-key?”</p> +<p>“Neither. If a key is lost it takes a skilful mechanic +half-a-day to cut his way in. Then you must remember that clients +of a safe-deposit are not multitudinous. All are known more or less +by sight to the officials there, and a stranger would receive close +attention. Now, Max, by what combination of circumstances is a +rogue to know my password, to be able to forge my signature, to +possess himself of my key, and to resemble me personally? And, +finally, how is he possibly to determine beforehand whether there +is anything in my safe to repay so elaborate a plant?” Mr +Carlyle concluded in triumph and was so carried away by the +strength of his position that he drank off the contents of his +second cup before he realized what he was doing.</p> +<p>“At the hotel I just spoke of,” replied Carrados, +“there was an attendant whose one duty in case of alarm was +to secure three iron doors. On the night of the fire he had a bad +attack of toothache and slipped away for just a quarter of an hour +to have the thing out. There was a most up-to-date system of +automatic fire alarm; it had been tested only the day before and +the electrician, finding some part not absolutely to his +satisfaction, had taken it away and not had time to replace it. The +night watchman, it turned out, had received leave to present +himself a couple of hours later on that particular night, and the +hotel fireman, whose duties he took over, had missed being +notified. Lastly, there was a big riverside blaze at the same time +and all the engines were down at the other end of the +city.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle committed himself to a dubious monosyllable. Carrados +leaned forward a little.</p> +<p>“All these circumstances formed a coincidence of pure +chance. Is it not conceivable, Louis, that an even more remarkable +series might be brought about by design?”</p> +<p>“Our tawny friend?”</p> +<p>“Possibly. Only he was not really tawny.” Mr +Carlyle’s easy attitude suddenly stiffened into rigid +attention. “He wore a false moustache.”</p> +<p>“He wore a false moustache!” repeated the amazed +gentleman. “And you cannot see! No, really, Max, this is +beyond the limit!”</p> +<p>“If only you would not trust your dear, blundering old +eyes so implicitly you would get nearer that limit yourself,” +retorted Carrados. “The man carried a five-yard aura of +spirit gum, emphasized by a warm, perspiring skin. That inevitably +suggested one thing. I looked for further evidence of making-up and +found it—these preparations all smell. The hair you described +was characteristically that of a wig—worn long to hide the +joining and made wavy to minimize the length. All these things are +trifles. As yet we have not gone beyond the initial stage of +suspicion. I will tell you another trifle. When this man retired to +a compartment with his deed-box, he never even opened it. Possibly +it contains a brick and a newspaper. He is only +watching.”</p> +<p>“Watching the bookmaker.”</p> +<p>“True, but it may go far wider than that. Everything +points to a plot of careful elaboration. Still, if you are +satisfied——”</p> +<p>“I am quite satisfied,” replied Mr Carlyle +gallantly. “I regard ‘The Safe’ almost as a +national institution, and as such I have an implicit faith in its +precautions against every kind of force or fraud.” So far Mr +Carlyle’s attitude had been suggestive of a rock, but at this +point he took out his watch, hummed a little to pass the time, +consulted his watch again, and continued: “I am afraid that +there were one or two papers which I overlooked. It would perhaps +save me coming again to-morrow if I went back +now——”</p> +<p>“Quite so,” acquiesced Carrados, with perfect +gravity. “I will wait for you.”</p> +<p>For twenty minutes he sat there, drinking an occasional tiny cup +of boiled coffee and to all appearance placidly enjoying the quaint +atmosphere which Mr Mehmed had contrived to transplant from the +shore of the Persian Gulf.</p> +<p>At the end of that period Carlyle returned, politely effusive +about the time he had kept his friend waiting but otherwise bland +and unassailable. Anyone with eyes might have noticed that he +carried a parcel of about the same size and dimensions as the +deed-box that fitted his safe.</p> +<p>The next day Carrados presented himself at the safe-deposit as +an intending renter. The manager showed him over the vaults and +strong-rooms, explaining the various precautions taken to render +the guile or force of man impotent: the strength of the +chilled-steel walls, the casing of electricity-resisting concrete, +the stupendous isolation of the whole inner fabric on metal pillars +so that the watchman, while inside the building, could walk above, +below, and all round the outer walls of what was +really—although it bore no actual relationship to the +advertising device of the front—a monstrous safe; and, +finally, the arrangement which would enable the basement to be +flooded with steam within three minutes of an alarm. These details +were public property. “The Safe” was a showplace and +its directors held that no harm could come of displaying a strong +hand.</p> +<p>Accompanied by the observant eyes of Parkinson, Carrados gave an +adventurous but not a hopeful attention to these particulars. +Submitting the problem of the tawny man to his own ingenuity, he +was constantly putting before himself the question: How shall I set +about robbing this place? and he had already dismissed force as +impracticable. Nor, when it came to the consideration of fraud, did +the simple but effective safeguards which Mr Carlyle had specified +seem to offer any loophole.</p> +<p>“As I am blind I may as well sign in the book,” he +suggested, when the manager passed to him a gummed slip for the +purpose. The precaution against one acquiring particulars of +another client might well be deemed superfluous in his case.</p> +<p>But the manager did not fall into the trap.</p> +<p>“It is our invariable rule in all cases, sir,” he +replied courteously. “What word will you take?” +Parkinson, it may be said, had been left in the hall.</p> +<p>“Suppose I happen to forget it? How do we +proceed?”</p> +<p>“In that case I am afraid that I might have to trouble you +to establish your identity,” the manager explained. “It +rarely happens.”</p> +<p>“Then we will say ‘Conspiracy.’”</p> +<p>The word was written down and the book closed.</p> +<p>“Here is your key, sir. If you will allow me—your +key-ring——”</p> +<p>A week went by and Carrados was no nearer the absolute solution +of the problem he had set himself. He had, indeed, evolved several +ways by which the contents of the safes might be reached, some +simple and desperate, hanging on the razor-edge of chance to fall +this way or that; others more elaborate, safer on the whole, but +more liable to break down at some point of their ingenious +intricacy. And setting aside complicity on the part of the +manager—a condition that Carrados had satisfied himself did +not exist—they all depended on a relaxation of the forms by +which security was assured. Carrados continued to have several +occasions to visit the safe during the week, and he +“watched” with a quiet persistence that was deadly in +its scope. But from beginning to end there was no indication of +slackness in the business-like methods of the place; nor during any +of his visits did the “tawny man” appear in that or any +other disguise. Another week passed; Mr Carlyle was becoming +inexpressibly waggish, and Carrados himself, although he did not +abate a jot of his conviction, was compelled to bend to the +realities of the situation. The manager, with the obstinacy of a +conscientious man who had become obsessed with the pervading note +of security, excused himself from discussing abstract methods of +fraud. Carrados was not in a position to formulate a detailed +charge; he withdrew from active investigation, content to await his +time.</p> +<p>It came, to be precise, on a certain Friday morning, seventeen +days after his first visit to “The Safe.” Returning +late on the Thursday night, he was informed that a man giving the +name of Draycott had called to see him. Apparently the matter had +been of some importance to the visitor for he had returned three +hours later on the chance of finding Mr Carrados in. Disappointed +in this, he had left a note. Carrados cut open the envelope and ran +a finger along the following words:—</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,—I have to-day +consulted Mr Louis Carlyle, who thinks that you would like to see +me. I will call again in the morning, say at nine o’clock. If +this is too soon or otherwise inconvenient I entreat you to leave a +message fixing as early an hour as possible. to leave a message +fixing as early an hour as possible.<br /> +Yours faithfully,</p> +<p class="alignright"> +<span class="smcap">Herbert Draycott</span>.”<br /></p> +<p>“<i>P.S.</i>—I should add that I am the renter of a +safe at the Lucas Street depository. H. D.”</p> +</div> +<p>A description of Mr Draycott made it clear that he was not the +West-End bookmaker. The caller, the servant explained, was a thin, +wiry, keen-faced man. Carrados felt agreeably interested in this +development, which seemed to justify his suspicion of a plot.</p> +<p>At five minutes to nine the next morning Mr Draycott again +presented himself.</p> +<p>“Very good of you to see me so soon, sir,” he +apologized, on Carrados at once receiving him. “I don’t +know much of English ways—I’m an Australian—and I +was afraid it might be too early.”</p> +<p>“You could have made it a couple of hours earlier as far +as I am concerned,” replied Carrados. “Or you either +for that matter, I imagine,” he added, “for I +don’t think that you slept much last night.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t sleep at all last night,” corrected +Mr Draycott. “But it’s strange that you should have +seen that. I understood from Mr Carlyle that you—excuse me if +I am mistaken, sir—but I understood that you were +blind.”</p> +<p>Carrados laughed his admission lightly.</p> +<p>“Oh yes,” he said. “But never mind that. What +is the trouble?”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid it means more than just trouble for me, +Mr Carrados.” The man had steady, half-closed eyes, with the +suggestion of depth which one notices in the eyes of those whose +business it is to look out over great expanses of land or water; +they were turned towards Carrados’s face with quiet +resignation in their frankness now. “I’m afraid it +spells disaster. I am a working engineer from the Mount Magdalena +district of Coolgardie. I don’t want to take up your time +with outside details so I will only say that about two years ago I +had an opportunity of acquiring a share in a very promising +claim—gold, you understand, both reef and alluvial. As the +work went on I put more and more into the undertaking—you +couldn’t call it a venture by that time. The results were +good, better than we had dared to expect, but from one cause and +another the expenses were terrible. We saw that it was a bigger +thing than we had bargained for and we admitted that we must get +outside help.”</p> +<p>So far Mr Draycott’s narrative had proceeded smoothly +enough under the influence of the quiet despair that had come over +the man. But at this point a sudden recollection of his position +swept him into a frenzy of bitterness.</p> +<p>“Oh, what the blazes is the good of going over all this +again!” he broke out. “What can you or anyone else do +anyhow? I’ve been robbed, rooked, cleared out of everything I +possess,” and tormented by recollections and by the impotence +of his rage the unfortunate engineer beat the oak table with the +back of his hand until his knuckles bled.</p> +<p>Carrados waited until the fury had passed.</p> +<p>“Continue, if you please, Mr Draycott,” he said. +“Just what you thought it best to tell me is just what I want +to know.”</p> +<p>“I’m sorry, sir,” apologized the man, +colouring under his tanned skin. “I ought to be able to +control myself better. But this business has shaken me. Three times +last night I looked down the barrel of my revolver, and three times +I threw it away.... Well, we arranged that I should come to London +to interest some financiers in the property. We might have done it +locally or in Perth, to be sure, but then, don’t you see, +they would have wanted to get control. Six weeks ago I landed here. +I brought with me specimens of the quartz and good samples of +extracted gold, dust and nuggets, the clearing up of several +weeks’ working, about two hundred and forty ounces in all. +That includes the Magdalena Lodestar, our lucky nugget, a lump +weighing just under seven pounds of pure gold.</p> +<p>“I had seen an advertisement of this Lucas Street +safe-deposit and it seemed just the thing I wanted. Besides the +gold, I had all the papers to do with the claims—plans, +reports, receipts, licences and so on. Then when I cashed my letter +of credit I had about one hundred and fifty pounds in notes. Of +course I could have left everything at a bank but it was more +convenient to have it, as it were, in my own safe, to get at any +time, and to have a private room that I could take any gentlemen +to. I hadn’t a suspicion that anything could be wrong. +Negotiations hung on in several quarters—it’s a bad +time to do business here, I find. Then, yesterday, I wanted +something. I went to Lucas Street, as I had done half-a-dozen times +before, opened my safe, and had the inner case carried to a +room.... Mr Carrados, it was empty!”</p> +<p>“Quite empty?”</p> +<p>“No.” He laughed bitterly. “At the bottom was +a sheet of wrapper paper. I recognized it as a piece I had left +there in case I wanted to make up a parcel. But for that I should +have been convinced that I had somehow opened the wrong safe. That +was my first idea.”</p> +<p>“It cannot be done.”</p> +<p>“So I understand, sir. And, then, there was the paper with +my name written on it in the empty tin. I was dazed; it seemed +impossible. I think I stood there without moving for +minutes—it was more like hours. Then I closed the tin box +again, took it back, locked up the safe and came out.”</p> +<p>“Without notifying anything wrong?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Mr Carrados.” The steady blue eyes regarded +him with pained thoughtfulness. “You see, I reckoned it out +in that time that it must be someone about the place who had done +it.”</p> +<p>“You were wrong,” said Carrados.</p> +<p>“So Mr Carlyle seemed to think. I only knew that the key +had never been out of my possession and I had told no one of the +password. Well, it did come over me rather like cold water down the +neck, that there was I alone in the strongest dungeon in London and +not a living soul knew where I was.”</p> +<p>“Possibly a sort of up-to-date Sweeney +Todd’s?”</p> +<p>“I’d heard of such things in London,” admitted +Draycott. “Anyway, I got out. It was a mistake; I see it now. +Who is to believe me as it is—it sounds a sort of unlikely +tale. And how do they come to pick on me? to know what I had? I +don’t drink, or open my mouth, or hell round. It beats +me.”</p> +<p>“They didn’t pick on you—you picked on +them,” replied Carrados. “Never mind how; you’ll +be believed all right. But as for getting anything +back——” The unfinished sentence confirmed Mr +Draycott in his gloomiest anticipations.</p> +<p>“I have the numbers of the notes,” he suggested, +with an attempt at hopefulness. “They can be stopped, I take +it?”</p> +<p>“Stopped? Yes,” admitted Carrados. “And what +does that amount to? The banks and the police stations will be +notified and every little public-house between here and +Land’s End will change one for the scribbling of ‘John +Jones’ across the back. No, Mr Draycott, it’s awkward, +I dare say, but you must make up your mind to wait until you can +get fresh supplies from home. Where are you staying?”</p> +<p>Draycott hesitated.</p> +<p>“I have been at the Abbotsford, in Bloomsbury, up to +now,” he said, with some embarrassment. “The fact is, +Mr Carrados, I think I ought to have told you how I was placed +before consulting you, because I—I see no prospect of being +able to pay my way. Knowing that I had plenty in the safe, I had +run it rather close. I went chiefly yesterday to get some notes. I +have a week’s hotel bill in my pocket, and”—he +glanced down at his trousers—“I’ve ordered one or +two other things unfortunately.”</p> +<p>“That will be a matter of time, doubtless,” +suggested the other encouragingly.</p> +<p>Instead of replying Draycott suddenly dropped his arms on to the +table and buried his face between them. A minute passed in +silence.</p> +<p>“It’s no good, Mr Carrados,” he said, when he +was able to speak; “I can’t meet it. Say what you like, +I simply can’t tell those chaps that I’ve lost +everything we had and ask them to send me more. They couldn’t +do it if I did. Understand, sir. The mine is a valuable one; we +have the greatest faith in it, but it has gone beyond our depth. +The three of us have put everything we own into it. While I am here +they are doing labourers’ work for a wage, just to keep going +... waiting, oh, my God! waiting for good news from me!”</p> +<p>Carrados walked round the table to his desk and wrote. Then, +without a word, he held out a paper to his visitor.</p> +<p>“What’s this?” demanded Draycott, in +bewilderment. “It’s—it’s a cheque for a +hundred pounds.”</p> +<p>“It will carry you on,” explained Carrados +imperturbably. “A man like you isn’t going to throw up +the sponge for this set-back. Cable to your partners that you +require copies of all the papers at once. They’ll manage it, +never fear. The gold ... must go. Write fully by the next mail. +Tell them everything and add that in spite of all you feel that you +are nearer success than ever.”</p> +<p>Mr Draycott folded the cheque with thoughtful deliberation and +put it carefully away in his pocket-book.</p> +<p>“I don’t know whether you’ve guessed as much, +sir,” he said in a queer voice, “but I think that +you’ve saved a man’s life to-day. It’s not the +money, it’s the encouragement ... and faith. If you could see +you’d know better than I can say how I feel about +it.”</p> +<p>Carrados laughed quietly. It always amused him to have people +explain how much more he would learn if he had eyes.</p> +<p>“Then we’ll go on to Lucas Street and give the +manager the shock of his life,” was all he said. “Come, +Mr Draycott, I have already rung up the car.”</p> +<p>But, as it happened, another instrument had been destined to +apply that stimulating experience to the manager. As they stepped +out of the car opposite “The Safe” a taxicab drew up +and Mr Carlyle’s alert and cheery voice hailed them.</p> +<p>“A moment, Max,” he called, turning to settle with +his driver, a transaction that he invested with an air of dignified +urbanity which almost made up for any small pecuniary +disappointment that may have accompanied it. “This is indeed +fortunate. Let us compare notes for a moment. I have just received +an almost imploring message from the manager to come at once. I +assumed that it was the affair of our colonial friend here, but he +went on to mention Professor Holmfast Bulge. Can it really be +possible that he also has made a similar discovery?”</p> +<p>“What did the manager say?” asked Carrados.</p> +<p>“He was practically incoherent, but I really think it must +be so. What have you done?”</p> +<p>“Nothing,” replied Carrados. He turned his back on +“The Safe” and appeared to be regarding the other side +of the street. “There is a tobacconist’s shop directly +opposite?”</p> +<p>“There is.”</p> +<p>“What do they sell on the first floor?”</p> +<p>“Possibly they sell ‘Rubbo.’ I hazard the +suggestion from the legend ‘Rub in Rubbo for +Everything’ which embellishes each window.”</p> +<p>“The windows are frosted?”</p> +<p>“They are, to half-way up, mysterious man.”</p> +<p>Carrados walked back to his motor car.</p> +<p>“While we are away, Parkinson, go across and buy a tin, +bottle, box or packet of ‘Rubbo.’”</p> +<p>“What is ‘Rubbo,’ Max?” chirped Mr +Carlyle with insatiable curiosity.</p> +<p>“So far we do not know. When Parkinson gets some, Louis, +you shall be the one to try it.”</p> +<p>They descended into the basement and were passed in by the +grille-keeper, whose manner betrayed a discreet consciousness of +something in the air. It was unnecessary to speculate why. In the +distance, muffled by the armoured passages, an authoritative voice +boomed like a sonorous bell heard under water.</p> +<p>“What, however, are the facts?” it was demanding, +with the causticity of baffled helplessness. “I am assured +that there is no other key in existence; yet my safe has been +unlocked. I am given to understand that without the password it +would be impossible for an unauthorized person to tamper with my +property. My password, deliberately chosen, is +‘anthropophaginian,’ sir. Is it one that is familiarly +on the lips of the criminal classes? But my safe is empty! What is +the explanation? Who are the guilty persons? What is being done? +Where are the police?”</p> +<p>“If you consider that the proper course to adopt is to +stand on the doorstep and beckon in the first constable who happens +to pass, permit me to say, sir, that I differ from you,” +retorted the distracted manager. “You may rely on everything +possible being done to clear up the mystery. As I told you, I have +already telephoned for a capable private detective and for one of +my directors.”</p> +<p>“But that is not enough,” insisted the professor +angrily. “Will one mere private detective restore my #6000 +Japanese 4-1/2 per cent. bearer bonds? Is the return of my +irreplaceable notes on ‘Polyphyletic Bridal Customs among the +mid-Pleistocene Cave Men’ to depend on a solitary director? I +demand that the police shall be called in—as many as are +available. Let Scotland Yard be set in motion. A searching inquiry +must be made. I have only been a user of your precious +establishment for six months, and this is the result.”</p> +<p>“There you hold the key of the mystery, Professor +Bulge,” interposed Carrados quietly.</p> +<p>“Who is this, sir?” demanded the exasperated +professor at large.</p> +<p>“Permit me,” explained Mr Carlyle, with bland +assurance. “I am Louis Carlyle, of Bampton Street. This +gentleman is Mr Max Carrados, the eminent amateur specialist in +crime.”</p> +<p>“I shall be thankful for any assistance towards +elucidating this appalling business,” condescended the +professor sonorously. “Let me put you in possession of the +facts——”</p> +<p>“Perhaps if we went into your room,” suggested +Carrados to the manager, “we should be less liable to +interruption.”</p> +<p>“Quite so; quite so,” boomed the professor, +accepting the proposal on everyone else’s behalf. “The +facts, sir, are these: I am the unfortunate possessor of a safe +here, in which, a few months ago, I deposited—among less +important matter—sixty bearer bonds of the Japanese Imperial +Loan—the bulk of my small fortune—and the manuscript of +an important projected work on ‘Polyphyletic Bridal Customs +among the mid-Pleistocene Cave Men.’ To-day I came to detach +the coupons which fall due on the fifteenth, to pay them into my +bank a week in advance, in accordance with my custom. What do I +find? I find the safe locked and apparently intact, as when I last +saw it a month ago. But it is far from being intact, sir. It has +been opened; ransacked, cleared out. Not a single bond; not a scrap +of paper remains.”</p> +<p>It was obvious that the manager’s temperature had been +rising during the latter part of this speech and now he boiled +over.</p> +<p>“Pardon my flatly contradicting you, Professor Bulge. You +have again referred to your visit here a month ago as your last. +You will bear witness of that, gentlemen. When I inform you that +the professor had access to his safe as recently as on Monday last +you will recognize the importance that the statement may +assume.”</p> +<p>The professor glared across the room like an infuriated animal, +a comparison heightened by his notoriously hircine appearance.</p> +<p>“How dare you contradict me, sir!” he cried, +slapping the table sharply with his open hand. “I was not +here on Monday.”</p> +<p>The manager shrugged his shoulders coldly.</p> +<p>“You forget that the attendants also saw you,” he +remarked. “Cannot we trust our own eyes?”</p> +<p>“A common assumption, yet not always a strictly reliable +one,” insinuated Carrados softly.</p> +<p>“I cannot be mistaken.”</p> +<p>“Then can you tell me, without looking, what colour +Professor Bulge’s eyes are?”</p> +<p>There was a curious and expectant silence for a minute. The +professor turned his back on the manager and the manager passed +from thoughtfulness to embarrassment.</p> +<p>“I really do not know, Mr Carrados,” he declared +loftily at last. “I do not refer to mere trifles like +that.”</p> +<p>“Then you can be mistaken,” replied Carrados mildly +yet with decision.</p> +<p>“But the ample hair, the venerable flowing beard, the +prominent nose and heavy eyebrows——”</p> +<p>“These are just the striking points that are most easily +counterfeited. They ‘take the eye.’ If you would ensure +yourself against deception, learn rather to observe the eye itself, +and particularly the spots on it, the shape of the fingernails, the +set of the ears. These things cannot be simulated.”</p> +<p>“You seriously suggest that the man was not Professor +Bulge—that he was an impostor?”</p> +<p>“The conclusion is inevitable. Where were you on Monday, +Professor?”</p> +<p>“I was on a short lecturing tour in the Midlands. On +Saturday I was in Nottingham. On Monday in Birmingham. I did not +return to London until yesterday.”</p> +<p>Carrados turned to the manager again and indicated Draycott, who +so far had remained in the background.</p> +<p>“And this gentleman? Did he by any chance come here on +Monday?”</p> +<p>“He did not, Mr Carrados. But I gave him access to his +safe on Tuesday afternoon and again yesterday.”</p> +<p>Draycott shook his head sadly.</p> +<p>“Yesterday I found it empty,” he said. “And +all Tuesday afternoon I was at Brighton, trying to see a gentleman +on business.”</p> +<p>The manager sat down very suddenly.</p> +<p>“Good God, another!” he exclaimed faintly.</p> +<p>“I am afraid the list is only beginning,” said +Carrados. “We must go through your renters’ +book.”</p> +<p>The manager roused himself to protest.</p> +<p>“That cannot be done. No one but myself or my deputy ever +sees the book. It would be—unprecedented.”</p> +<p>“The circumstances are unprecedented,” replied +Carrados.</p> +<p>“If any difficulties are placed in the way of these +gentlemen’s investigations, I shall make it my duty to bring +the facts before the Home Secretary,” announced the +professor; speaking up to the ceiling with the voice of a brazen +trumpet.</p> +<p>Carrados raised a deprecating hand.</p> +<p>“May I make a suggestion?” he remarked. “Now; +I am blind. If, therefore——?”</p> +<p>“Very well,” acquiesced the manager. “But I +must request the others to withdraw.”</p> +<p>For five minutes Carrados followed the list of safe-renters as +the manager read them to him. Sometimes he stopped the catalogue to +reflect a moment; now and then he brushed a finger-tip over a +written signature and compared it with another. Occasionally a +password interested him. But when the list came to an end he +continued to look into space without any sign of enlightenment.</p> +<p>“So much is perfectly clear and yet so much is +incredible,” he mused. “You insist that you alone have +been in charge for the last six months?”</p> +<p>“I have not been away a day this year.”</p> +<p>“Meals?”</p> +<p>“I have my lunch sent in.”</p> +<p>“And this room could not be entered without your knowledge +while you were about the place?”</p> +<p>“It is impossible. The door is fitted with a powerful +spring and a feather-touch self-acting lock. It cannot be left +unlocked unless you deliberately prop it open.”</p> +<p>“And, with your knowledge, no one has had an opportunity +of having access to this book?”</p> +<p>“No,” was the reply.</p> +<p>Carrados stood up and began to put on his gloves.</p> +<p>“Then I must decline to pursue my investigation any +further,” he said icily.</p> +<p>“Why?” stammered the manager.</p> +<p>“Because I have positive reason for believing that you are +deceiving me.”</p> +<p>“Pray sit down, Mr Carrados. It is quite true that when +you put the last question to me a circumstance rushed into my mind +which—so far as the strict letter was concerned—might +seem to demand ‘Yes’ instead of ‘No.’ But +not in the spirit of your inquiry. It would be absurd to attach any +importance to the incident I refer to.”</p> +<p>“That would be for me to judge.”</p> +<p>“You shall do so, Mr Carrados. I live at Windermere +Mansions with my sister. A few months ago she got to know a married +couple who had recently come to the opposite flat. The husband was +a middle-aged, scholarly man who spent most of his time in the +British Museum. His wife’s tastes were different; she was +much younger, brighter, gayer; a mere girl in fact, one of the most +charming and unaffected I have ever met. My sister Amelia does not +readily——”</p> +<p>“Stop!” exclaimed Carrados. “A studious +middle-aged man and a charming young wife! Be as brief as possible. +If there is any chance it may turn on a matter of minutes at the +ports. She came here, of course?”</p> +<p>“Accompanied by her husband,” replied the manager +stiffly. “Mrs Scott had travelled and she had a hobby of +taking photographs wherever she went. When my position accidentally +came out one evening she was carried away by the novel idea of +adding views of a safe-deposit to her collection—as +enthusiastic as a child. There was no reason why she should not; +the place has often been taken for advertising purposes.”</p> +<p>“She came, and brought her camera—under your very +nose!”</p> +<p>“I do not know what you mean by ‘under my very +nose.’ She came with her husband one evening just about our +closing time. She brought her camera, of course—quite a small +affair.”</p> +<p>“And contrived to be in here alone?”</p> +<p>“I take exception to the word ‘contrived.’ +It—it happened. I sent out for some tea, and in the +course——”</p> +<p>“How long was she alone in here?”</p> +<p>“Two or three minutes at the most. When I returned she was +seated at my desk. That was what I referred to. The little rogue +had put on my glasses and had got hold of a big book. We were great +chums, and she delighted to mock me. I confess that I was +startled—merely instinctively—to see that she had taken +up this book, but the next moment I saw that she had it upside +down.”</p> +<p>“Clever! She couldn’t get it away in time. And the +camera, with half-a-dozen of its specially sensitized films already +snapped over the last few pages, by her side!”</p> +<p>“That child!”</p> +<p>“Yes. She is twenty-seven and has kicked hats off tall +men’s heads in every capital from Petersburg to Buenos Aires! +Get through to Scotland Yard and ask if Inspector Beedel can come +up.”</p> +<p>The manager breathed heavily through his nose.</p> +<p>“To call in the police and publish everything would ruin +this establishment—confidence would be gone. I cannot do it +without further authority.”</p> +<p>“Then the professor certainly will.”</p> +<p>“Before you came I rang up the only director who is at +present in town and gave him the facts as they then stood. Possibly +he has arrived by this. If you will accompany me to the boardroom +we will see.”</p> +<p>They went up to the floor above, Mr Carlyle joining them on the +way.</p> +<p>“Excuse me a moment,” said the manager.</p> +<p>Parkinson, who had been having an improving conversation with +the hall porter on the subject of land values, approached.</p> +<p>“I am sorry, sir,” he reported, “but I was +unable to procure any ‘Rubbo.’ The place appears to be +shut up.”</p> +<p>“That is a pity; Mr Carlyle had set his heart on +it.”</p> +<p>“Will you come this way, please?” said the manager, +reappearing.</p> +<p>In the boardroom they found a white-haired old gentleman who had +obeyed the manager’s behest from a sense of duty, and then +remained in a distant corner of the empty room in the hope that he +might be overlooked. He was amiably helpless and appeared to be +deeply aware of it.</p> +<p>“This is a very sad business, gentlemen,” he said, +in a whispering, confiding voice. “I am informed that you +recommend calling in the Scotland Yard authorities. That would be a +disastrous course for an institution that depends on the implicit +confidence of the public.”</p> +<p>“It is the only course,” replied Carrados.</p> +<p>“The name of Mr Carrados is well known to us in connexion +with a delicate case. Could you not carry this one +through?”</p> +<p>“It is impossible. A wide inquiry must be made. Every port +will have to be watched. The police alone can do that.” He +threw a little significance into the next sentence. “I alone +can put the police in the right way of doing it.”</p> +<p>“And you will do that, Mr Carrados?”</p> +<p>Carrados smiled engagingly. He knew exactly what constituted the +great attraction of his services.</p> +<p>“My position is this,” he explained. “So far +my work has been entirely amateur. In that capacity I have averted +one or two crimes, remedied an occasional injustice, and now and +then been of service to my professional friend, Louis Carlyle. But +there is no reason at all why I should serve a commercial firm in +an ordinary affair of business for nothing. For any information I +should require a fee, a quite nominal fee of, say, one hundred +pounds.”</p> +<p>The director looked as though his faith in human nature had +received a rude blow.</p> +<p>“A hundred pounds would be a very large initial fee for a +small firm like this, Mr Carrados,” he remarked in a pained +voice.</p> +<p>“And that, of course, would be independent of Mr +Carlyle’s professional charges,” added Carrados.</p> +<p>“Is that sum contingent on any specific +performance?” inquired the manager.</p> +<p>“I do not mind making it conditional on my procuring for +you, for the police to act on, a photograph and a description of +the thief.”</p> +<p>The two officials conferred apart for a moment. Then the manager +returned.</p> +<p>“We will agree, Mr Carrados, on the understanding that +these things are to be in our hands within two days. Failing +that——”</p> +<p>“No, no!” cried Mr Carlyle indignantly, but Carrados +good-humouredly put him aside.</p> +<p>“I will accept the condition in the same sporting spirit +that inspires it. Within forty-eight hours or no pay. The cheque, +of course, to be given immediately the goods are +delivered?”</p> +<p>“You may rely on that.”</p> +<p>Carrados took out his pocket-book, produced an envelope bearing +an American stamp, and from it extracted an unmounted print.</p> +<p>“Here is the photograph,” he announced. “The +man is called Ulysses K. Groom, but he is better known as +‘Harry the Actor.’ You will find the description +written on the back.”</p> +<p>Five minutes later, when they were alone, Mr Carlyle expressed +his opinion of the transaction.</p> +<p>“You are an unmitigated humbug, Max,” he said, +“though an amiable one, I admit. But purely for your own +private amusement you spring these things on people.”</p> +<p>“On the contrary,” replied Carrados, “people +spring these things on me.”</p> +<p>“Now this photograph. Why have I heard nothing of it +before?”</p> +<p>Carrados took out his watch and touched the fingers.</p> +<p>“It is now three minutes to eleven. I received the +photograph at twenty past eight.”</p> +<p>“Even then, an hour ago you assured me that you had done +nothing.”</p> +<p>“Nor had I—so far as result went. Until the keystone +of the edifice was wrung from the manager in his room, I was as far +away from demonstrable certainty as ever.”</p> +<p>“So am I—as yet,” hinted Mr Carlyle.</p> +<p>“I am coming to that, Louis. I turn over the whole thing +to you. The man has got two clear days’ start and the chances +are nine to one against catching him. We know everything, and the +case has no further interest for me. But it is your business. Here +is your material.</p> +<p>“On that one occasion when the ‘tawny’ man +crossed our path, I took from the first a rather more serious view +of his scope and intention than you did. That same day I sent a +cipher cable to Pierson of the New York service. I asked for news +of any man of such and such a description—merely +negative—who was known to have left the States; an educated +man, expert in the use of disguises, audacious in his operations, +and a specialist in ‘dry’ work among banks and +strong-rooms.”</p> +<p>“Why the States, Max?”</p> +<p>“That was a sighting shot on my part. I argued that he +must be an English-speaking man. The smart and inventive turn of +the modern Yank has made him a specialist in ingenious devices, +straight or crooked. Unpickable locks and invincible lock-pickers, +burglar-proof safes and safe-specializing burglars, come equally +from the States. So I tried a very simple test. As we talked that +day and the man walked past us, I dropped the words ‘New +York’—or, rather, ‘Noo Y’rk’—in +his hearing.”</p> +<p>“I know you did. He neither turned nor stopped.”</p> +<p>“He was that much on his guard; but into his step there +came—though your poor old eyes could not see it, +Louis—the ‘psychological pause,’ an absolute +arrest of perhaps a fifth of a second; just as it would have done +with you if the word ‘London’ had fallen on your ear in +a distant land. However, the whys and the wherefores don’t +matter. Here is the essential story.</p> +<p>“Eighteen months ago ‘Harry the Actor’ +successfully looted the office safe of M’Kenkie, J. F. Higgs +& Co.; of Cleveland, Ohio. He had just married a smart but very +facile third-rate vaudeville actress—English by +origin—and wanted money for the honeymoon. He got about five +hundred pounds, and with that they came to Europe and stayed in +London for some months. That period is marked by the Congreave +Square post office burglary, you may remember. While studying such +of the British institutions as most appealed to him, the +‘Actor’s’ attention became fixed on this +safe-deposit. Possibly the implied challenge contained in its +telegraphic address grew on him until it became a point of +professional honour with him to despoil it; at all events he was +presumedly attracted by an undertaking that promised not only glory +but very solid profit. The first part of the plot was, to the most +skilful criminal ‘impersonator’ in the States, mere +skittles. Spreading over those months he appeared at ‘The +Safe’ in twelve different characters and rented twelve safes +of different sizes. At the same time he made a thorough study of +the methods of the place. As soon as possible he got the keys back +again into legitimate use, having made duplicates for his own +private ends, of course. Five he seems to have returned during his +first stay; one was received later, with profuse apologies, by +registered post; one was returned through a leading Berlin bank. +Six months ago he made a flying visit here, purely to work off two +more. One he kept from first to last, and the remaining couple he +got in at the beginning of his second long residence here, three or +four months ago.</p> +<p>“This brings us to the serious part of the cool +enterprise. He had funds from the Atlantic and South-Central +Mail-car coup when he arrived here last April. He appears to have +set up three establishments; a home, in the guise of an elderly +scholar with a young wife, which, of course, was next door to our +friend the manager; an observation point, over which he plastered +the inscription ‘Rub in Rubbo for Everything’ as a +reason for being; and, somewhere else, a dressing-room with +essential conditions of two doors into different streets.</p> +<p>“About six weeks ago he entered the last stage. Mrs Harry, +with quite ridiculous ease, got photographs of the necessary page +or two of the record-book. I don’t doubt that for weeks +before then everyone who entered the place had been observed, but +the photographs linked them up with the actual men into whose hands +the ‘Actor’s’ old keys had passed—gave +their names and addresses, the numbers of their safes, their +passwords and signatures. The rest was easy.”</p> +<p>“Yes, by Jupiter; mere play for a man like that,” +agreed Mr Carlyle, with professional admiration. “He could +contrive a dozen different occasions for studying the voice and +manner and appearance of his victims. How much has he +cleared?”</p> +<p>“We can only speculate as yet. I have put my hand on seven +doubtful callers on Monday and Tuesday last. Two others he had +ignored for some reason; the remaining two safes had not been +allotted. There is one point that raises an interesting +speculation.”</p> +<p>“What is that, Max?”</p> +<p>“The ‘Actor’ has one associate, a man known as +‘Billy the Fondant,’ but beyond that—with the +exception of his wife, of course—he does not usually trust +anyone. It is plain, however, that at least seven men must latterly +have been kept under close observation. It has occurred to +me——”</p> +<p>“Yes, Max?”</p> +<p>“I have wondered whether Harry has enlisted the innocent +services of one or other of our clever private inquiry +offices.”</p> +<p>“Scarcely,” smiled the professional. “It would +hardly pass muster.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t know. Mrs Harry, in the character of a +jealous wife or a suspicious sweetheart, might +reasonably——”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle’s smile suddenly faded.</p> +<p>“By Jupiter!” he exclaimed. “I +remember——”</p> +<p>“Yes, Louis?” prompted Carrados, with laughter in +his voice.</p> +<p>“I remember that I must telephone to a client before +Beedel comes,” concluded Mr Carlyle, rising in some +haste.</p> +<p>At the door he almost ran into the subdued director, who was +wringing his hands in helpless protest at a new stroke of +calamity.</p> +<p>“Mr Carrados,” wailed the poor old gentleman in a +tremulous bleat, “Mr Carrados, there is another now—Sir +Benjamin Gump. He insists on seeing me. You will not—you will +not desert us?”</p> +<p>“I should have to stay a week,” replied Carrados +briskly, “and I’m just off now. There will be a +procession. Mr Carlyle will support you, I am sure.”</p> +<p>He nodded “Good-morning” straight into the eyes of +each and found his way out with the astonishing certainty of +movement that made so many forget his infirmity. Possibly he was +not desirous of encountering Draycott’s embarrassed gratitude +again, for in less than a minute they heard the swirl of his +departing car.</p> +<p>“Never mind, my dear sir,” Mr Carlyle assured his +client, with impenetrable complacency. “Never mind. <i>I</i> +will remain instead. Perhaps I had better make myself known to Sir +Benjamin at once.”</p> +<p>The director turned on him the pleading, trustful look of a +cornered dormouse.</p> +<p>“He is in the basement,” he whispered. “I +shall be in the boardroom—if necessary.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle had no difficulty in discovering the centre of +interest in the basement. Sir Benjamin was expansive and reserved, +bewildered and decisive, long-winded and short-tempered, each in +turn and more or less all at once. He had already demanded the +attention of the manager, Professor Bulge, Draycott and two +underlings to his case and they were now involved in a babel of +inutile reiteration. The inquiry agent was at once drawn into a +circle of interrogation that he did his best to satisfy +impressively while himself learning the new facts.</p> +<p>The latest development was sufficiently astonishing. Less than +an hour before Sir Benjamin had received a parcel by district +messenger. It contained a jewel-case which ought at that moment to +have been securely reposing in one of the deposit safes. Hastily +snatching it open, the recipient’s incredible forebodings +were realized. It was empty—empty of jewels, that is to say, +for, as if to add a sting to the blow, a neatly inscribed card had +been placed inside, and on it the agitated baronet read the +appropriate but at the moment rather gratuitous maxim: “Lay +not up for yourselves treasures upon earth——”</p> +<p>The card was passed round and all eyes demanded the +expert’s pronouncement.</p> +<p>“‘—where moth and rust doth corrupt and where +thieves break through and steal.’ H’m,” read Mr +Carlyle with weight. “This is a most important clue, Sir +Benjamin——”</p> +<p>“Hey, what? What’s that?” exclaimed a voice +from the other side of the hall. “Why, damme if I don’t +believe you’ve got another! Look at that, gentlemen; look at +that. What’s on, I say? Here now, come; give me my safe. I +want to know where I am.”</p> +<p>It was the bookmaker who strode tempestuously in among them, +flourishing before their faces a replica of the card that was in Mr +Carlyle’s hand.</p> +<p>“Well, upon my soul this is most extraordinary,” +exclaimed that gentleman, comparing the two. “You have just +received this, Mr—Mr Berge, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“That’s right, Berge—‘Iceberg’ on +the course. Thank the Lord Harry, I can take my losses coolly +enough, but this—this is a facer. Put into my hand +half-an-hour ago inside an envelope that ought to be here and as +safe as in the Bank of England. What’s the game, I say? Here, +Johnny, hurry and let me into my safe.”</p> +<p>Discipline and method had for the moment gone by the board. +There was no suggestion of the boasted safeguards of the +establishment. The manager added his voice to that of the client, +and when the attendant did not at once appear he called again.</p> +<p>“John, come and give Mr Berge access to his safe at +once.”</p> +<p>“All right, sir,” pleaded the harassed +key-attendant; hurrying up with the burden of his own distraction. +“There’s a silly fathead got in what thinks this is a +left-luggage office, so far as I can make out—a +foreigner.”</p> +<p>“Never mind that now,” replied the manager severely. +“Mr Berge’s safe: No. 01724.”</p> +<p>The attendant and Mr Berge went off together down one of the +brilliant colonnaded vistas. One or two of the others who had +caught the words glanced across and became aware of a strange +figure that was drifting indecisively towards them. He was +obviously an elderly German tourist of pronounced +type—long-haired, spectacled, outrageously garbed and +involved in the mental abstraction of his philosophical race. One +hand was occupied with the manipulation of a pipe, as markedly +Teutonic as its owner; the other grasped a carpet-bag that would +have ensured an opening laugh to any low comedian.</p> +<p>Quite impervious to the preoccupation of the group, the German +made his way up to them and picked out the manager.</p> +<p>“This was a safety deposit, <i>nicht wahr</i>?”</p> +<p>“Quite so,” acquiesced the manager loftily, +“but just now——”</p> +<p>“Your fellow was dense of gomprehension.” The eyes +behind the clumsy glasses wrinkled to a ponderous humour. “He +forgot his own business. Now this goot bag——”</p> +<p>Brought into fuller prominence, the carpet-bag revealed further +details of its overburdened proportions. At one end a flannel shirt +cuff protruded in limp dejection; at the other an ancient collar, +with the grotesque attachment known as a “dickey,” +asserted its presence. No wonder the manager frowned his annoyance. +“The Safe” was in low enough repute among its patrons +at that moment without any burlesque interlude to its tragic +hour.</p> +<p>“Yes, yes,” he whispered, attempting to lead the +would-be depositor away, “but you are under a mistake. This +is not——”</p> +<p>“It was a safety deposit? Goot. Mine bag—I would +deposit him in safety till the time of mine train. +<i>Ja?</i>“</p> +<p>“<i>Nein, nein!</i>“ almost hissed the agonized +official. “Go away, sir, go away! It isn’t a cloakroom. +John, let this gentleman out.”</p> +<p>The attendant and Mr Berge were returning from their quest. The +inner box had been opened and there was no need to ask the result. +The bookmaker was shaking his head like a baffled bull.</p> +<p>“Gone, no effects,” he shouted across the hall. +“Lifted from ‘The Safe,’ by crumb!”</p> +<p>To those who knew nothing of the method and operation of the +fraud it seemed as if the financial security of the Capital was +tottering. An amazed silence fell, and in it they heard the great +grille door of the basement clang on the inopportune +foreigner’s departure. But, as if it was impossible to stand +still on that morning of dire happenings, he was immediately +succeeded by a dapper, keen-faced man in severe clerical attire who +had been let in as the intruder passed out.</p> +<p>“Canon Petersham!” exclaimed the professor, going +forward to greet him.</p> +<p>“My dear Professor Bulge!” reciprocated the canon. +“You here! A most disquieting thing has happened to me. I +must have my safe at once.” He divided his attention between +the manager and the professor as he monopolized them both. “A +most disquieting and—and outrageous circumstance. My safe, +please—yes, yes, Rev. Henry Noakes Petersham. I have just +received by hand a box, a small box of no value but one that I +<i>thought</i>, yes, I am convinced that it was the one, a box that +was used to contain certain valuables of family interest which +should at this moment be in my safe here. No. 7436? Very likely, +very likely. Yes, here is my key. But not content with the +disconcerting effect of that, professor, the box +contained—and I protest that it’s a most unseemly thing +to quote <i>any</i> text from the Bible in this way to a clergyman +of my position—well, here it is. ‘Lay not up for +yourselves treasures upon earth——’ Why, I have a +dozen sermons of my own in my desk now on that very verse. +I’m particularly partial to the very needful lesson that it +teaches. And to apply it to <i>me</i>! It’s +monstrous!”</p> +<p>“No. 7436, John,” ordered the manager, with weary +resignation.</p> +<p>The attendant again led the way towards another armour-plated +aisle. Smartly turning a corner, he stumbled over something, bit a +profane exclamation in two, and looked back.</p> +<p>“It’s that bloomin’ foreigner’s old bag +again,” he explained across the place in aggrieved apology. +“He left it here after all.”</p> +<p>“Take it upstairs and throw it out when you’ve +finished,” said the manager shortly.</p> +<p>“Here, wait a minute,” pondered John, in +absent-minded familiarity. “Wait a minute. This is a funny +go. There’s a label on that wasn’t here before. +‘<i>Why not look inside?</i>’“</p> +<p>“‘Why not look inside?’” repeated +someone.</p> +<p>“That’s what it says.”</p> +<p>There was another puzzled silence. All were arrested by some +intangible suggestion of a deeper mystery than they had yet +touched. One by one they began to cross the hall with the conscious +air of men who were not curious but thought that they might as well +see.</p> +<p>“Why, curse my crumpet,” suddenly exploded Mr Berge, +“if that ain’t the same writing as these +texts!”</p> +<p>“By gad, but I believe you are right,” assented Mr +Carlyle. “Well, why not look inside?”</p> +<p>The attendant, from his stooping posture, took the verdict of +the ring of faces and in a trice tugged open the two buckles. The +central fastening was not locked, and yielded to a touch. The +flannel shirt, the weird collar and a few other garments in the +nature of a “top-dressing” were flung out and +John’s hand plunged deeper....</p> +<p>Harry the Actor had lived up to his dramatic instinct. Nothing +was wrapped up; nay, the rich booty had been deliberately opened +out and displayed, as it were, so that the overturning of the bag, +when John the keybearer in an access of riotous extravagance lifted +it up and strewed its contents broadcast on the floor, was like the +looting of a smuggler’s den, or the realization of a +speculator’s dream, or the bursting of an Aladdin’s +cave, or something incredibly lavish and bizarre. Bank-notes +fluttered down and lay about in all directions, relays of +sovereigns rolled away like so much dross, bonds and scrip for +thousands and tens of thousands clogged the downpouring stream of +jewellery and unset gems. A yellow stone the size of a four-pound +weight and twice as heavy dropped plump upon the canon’s toes +and sent him hopping and grimacing to the wall. A ruby-hilted kris +cut across the manager’s wrist as he strove to arrest the +splendid rout. Still the miraculous cornucopia deluged the ground, +with its pattering, ringing, bumping, crinkling, rolling, +fluttering produce until, like the final tableau of some +spectacular ballet, it ended with a golden rain that masked the +details of the heap beneath a glittering veil of yellow sand.</p> +<p>“My dust!” gasped Draycott.</p> +<p>“My fivers, by golly!” ejaculated the bookmaker, +initiating a plunge among the spoil.</p> +<p>“My Japanese bonds, coupons and all, and—yes, even +the manuscript of my work on ‘Polyphyletic Bridal Customs +among the mid-Pleistocene Cave Men.’ Hah!” Something +approaching a cachinnation of delight closed the professor’s +contribution to the pandemonium, and eyewitnesses afterwards +declared that for a moment the dignified scientist stood on one +foot in the opening movement of a can-can.</p> +<p>“My wife’s diamonds, thank heaven!” cried Sir +Benjamin, with the air of a schoolboy who was very well out of a +swishing.</p> +<p>“But what does it mean?” demanded the bewildered +canon. “Here are my family heirlooms—a few decent +pearls, my grandfather’s collection of camei and other +trifles—but who——?”</p> +<p>“Perhaps this offers some explanation,” suggested Mr +Carlyle, unpinning an envelope that had been secured to the lining +of the bag. “It is addressed ‘To Seven Rich +Sinners.’ Shall I read it for you?”</p> +<p>For some reason the response was not unanimous, but it was +sufficient. Mr Carlyle cut open the envelope.</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“<span class="smcap">My dear +Friends</span>,—Aren’t you glad? Aren’t you happy +at this moment? Ah yes; but not with the true joy of regeneration +that alone can bring lightness to the afflicted soul. Pause while +there is yet time. Cast off the burden of your sinful lusts, for +what shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and +lose his own soul? (Mark, chap. viii., v. 36.)</p> +<p>“Oh, my friends, you have had an all-fired narrow squeak. +Up till the Friday in last week I held your wealth in the hollow of +my ungodly hand and rejoiced in my nefarious cunning, but on that +day as I with my guilty female accomplice stood listening with +worldly amusement to the testimony of a converted brother at a +meeting of the Salvation Army on Clapham Common, the gospel light +suddenly shone into our rebellious souls and then and there we +found salvation. Hallelujah!</p> +<p>“What we have done to complete the unrighteous scheme upon +which we had laboured for months has only been for your own good, +dear friends that you are, though as yet divided from us by your +carnal lusts. Let this be a lesson to you. Sell all you have and +give it to the poor—through the organization of the Salvation +Army by preference—and thereby lay up for yourselves +treasures where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt and where +thieves do not break through and steal. (Matthew, chap, vi., v. +20.)</p> +<p>“Yours in good works,</p> +<p class="alignright">“<span class="smcap">Private Henry, the +Salvationist</span>.<br /></p> +<p>“<i>P.S.</i> (in haste).—I may as well inform you +that no crib is really uncrackable, though the Cyrus J. Coy +Co.’s Safe Deposit on West 24th Street, N.Y., comes nearest +the kernel. And even that I could work to the bare rock if I took +hold of the job with both hands—that is to say I could have +done in my sinful days. As for you, I should recommend you to +change your T. A. to ‘Peanut.’</p> +<p class="alignright">“U. K. G.”<br /></p> +</div> +<p>“There sounds a streak of the old Adam in that postscript, +Mr Carlyle,” whispered Inspector Beedel, who had just arrived +in time to hear the letter read.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_TILLING_SHAW_MYSTERY" id= +"THE_TILLING_SHAW_MYSTERY"></a>THE TILLING SHAW MYSTERY</h2> +<p>“I will see Miss George now,” assented Carrados. +Parkinson retired and Greatorex looked round from his chair. The +morning “clearing-up” was still in progress.</p> +<p>“Shall I go?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“Not unless the lady desires it. I don’t know her at +all.”</p> +<p>The secretary was not unobservant and he had profited from his +association with Mr Carrados. Without more ado, he began to get his +papers quietly together.</p> +<p>The door opened and a girl of about twenty came eagerly yet half +timorously into the room. Her eyes for a moment swept Carrados with +an anxious scrutiny. Then, with a slight shade of disappointment, +she noticed that they were not alone.</p> +<p>“I have come direct from Oakshire to see you, Mr +Carrados,” she announced, in a quick, nervous voice that was +evidently the outcome of a desperate resolution to be brave and +explicit. “The matter is a dreadfully important one to me and +I should very much prefer to tell it to you alone.”</p> +<p>There was no need for Carrados to turn towards his secretary; +that discriminating young gentleman was already on his way. Miss +George flashed him a shy look of thanks and filled in the moment +with a timid survey of the room.</p> +<p>“Is it something that you think I can help you +with?”</p> +<p>“I had hoped so. I had heard in a roundabout way of your +wonderful power—ought I to tell you how—does it +matter?”</p> +<p>“Not in the least if it has nothing to do with the +case,” replied Carrados.</p> +<p>“When this dreadful thing happened I instinctively thought +of you. I felt sure that I ought to come and get you to help me at +once. But I—I have very little money, Mr Carrados, only a few +pounds, and I am not so childish as not to know that very clever +men require large fees. Then when I got here my heart sank, for I +saw at once from your house and position that what seemed little +even to me would be ridiculous to you—that if you did help me +it would be purely out of kindness of heart and +generosity.”</p> +<p>“Suppose you tell me what the circumstances are,” +suggested Carrados cautiously. Then, to afford an opening, he +added: “You have recently gone into mourning, I +see.”</p> +<p>“See!” exclaimed the girl almost sharply. +“Then you are not blind?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes,” he replied; “only I use the familiar +expression, partly from custom, partly because it sounds +unnecessarily pedantic to say, ‘I deduce from certain +observations.’”</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon. I suppose I was startled not so much +by the expression as by your knowledge. I ought to have been +prepared. But I am already wasting your time and I came so +determined to be business-like. I got a copy of the local paper on +the way, because I thought that the account in it would be clearer +to you than I could tell it. Shall I read it?”</p> +<p>“Please; if that was your intention.”</p> +<p>“It is <i>The Stinbridge Herald</i>,” explained the +girl, taking a closely folded newspaper from the handbag which she +carried. “Stinbridge is our nearest town—about six +miles from Tilling Shaw, where we live. This is the account:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“‘MYSTERIOUS TRAGEDY AT TILLING</p> +<p>“‘<span class="smcap">Well-known Agriculturalist +Attempts Murder and Commits Suicide</span></p> +<p>“‘The districts of Great Tilling, Tilling Shaw and +the immediate neighbourhood were thrown into a state of unusual +excitement on Thursday last by the report of a tragedy in their +midst such as has rarely marked the annals of our law-abiding +country-side.</p> +<p>“‘A <i>Herald</i> representative was early on the +scene, and his inquiries elucidated the fact that it was only too +true that in this case rumour had not exaggerated the +circumstances, rather the reverse indeed.</p> +<p>“‘On the afternoon of the day in question, Mr Frank +Whitmarsh, of High Barn, presented himself at Barony, the residence +of his uncle, Mr William Whitmarsh, with the intention of seeing +him in reference to a dispute that was pending between them. This +is understood to be connected with an alleged trespass in pursuit +of game, each relative claiming exclusive sporting rights over a +piece of water known as Hunstan Mere.</p> +<p>“‘On this occasion the elder gentleman was not at +home and Mr Frank Whitmarsh, after waiting for some time, departed, +leaving a message to the effect that he would return, and, +according to one report, “have it out with Uncle +William,” later in the evening.</p> +<p>“‘This resolution he unfortunately kept. Returning +about eight-forty-five <span class="smcap">p.m.</span> he found his +uncle in and for some time the two men remained together in the +dining-room. What actually passed between them has not yet +transpired, but it is said that for half-an-hour there had been +nothing to indicate to the other occupants of the house that +anything unusual was in progress when suddenly two shots rang out +in rapid succession. Mrs Lawrence, the housekeeper at Barony, and a +servant were the soonest on the spot, and, conquering the natural +terror that for a moment held them outside the now silent room, +they summoned up courage to throw open the door and to enter. The +first thing that met their eyes was the body of Mr Frank Whitmarsh +lying on the floor almost at their feet. In their distressed state +it was immediately assumed by the horrified women that he was dead, +or at least seriously wounded, but a closer examination revealed +the fact that the gentleman had experienced an almost miraculous +escape. At the time of the tragedy he was wearing a large +old-fashioned silver watch; and in this the bullet intended for his +heart was found, literally embedded deep in the works. The second +shot had, however, effected its purpose, for at the other side of +the room, still seated at the table, was Mr William Whitmarsh, +already quite dead, with a terrible wound in his head and the +weapon, a large-bore revolver of obsolete pattern, lying at his +feet.</p> +<p>“‘Mr Frank Whitmarsh subsequently explained that the +shock of the attack, and the dreadful appearance presented by his +uncle when, immediately afterwards, he turned his hand against +himself, must have caused him to faint.</p> +<p>“‘Readers of <i>The Herald</i> will join in our +expression of sympathy for all members of the Whitmarsh family, and +in our congratulations to Mr Frank Whitmarsh on his providential +escape.</p> +<p>“‘The inquest is fixed for Monday and it is +anticipated that the funeral will take place on the following +day.’”</p> +</div> +<p>“That is all,” concluded Miss George.</p> +<p>“All that is in the paper,” amended Carrados.</p> +<p>“It is the same everywhere—‘attempted murder +and suicide’—that is what everyone accepts as a matter +of course,” went on the girl quickly. “How do they know +that my father tried to kill Frank, or that he killed himself? How +can they know, Mr Carrados?”</p> +<p>“Your father, Miss George?”</p> +<p>“Yes. My name is Madeline Whitmarsh. At home everyone +looks at me as if I was an object of mingled pity and reproach. I +thought that they might know the name here, so I gave the first +that came into my head. I think it is a street I was directed +along. Besides, I don’t want it to be known that I came to +see you in any case.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>Much of the girl’s conscious nervousness had stiffened +into an attitude of unconscious hardness. Grief takes many forms, +and whatever she had been before, the tragic episode had left Miss +Whitmarsh a little hurt and cynical.</p> +<p>“You are a man living in a town and can do as you like. I +am a girl living in the country and have therefore to do largely as +my neighbours like. For me to set up my opinion against popular +feeling would constitute no small offence; to question its justice +would be held to be adding outrageous insult to enormous +injury.”</p> +<p>“So far I am unable to go beyond the newspaper account. On +the face of it, your father—with what provocation of course I +do not know—did attempt this Mr Frank Whitmarsh’s life +and then take his own. You imply another version. What reason have +you?”</p> +<p>“That is the terrible part of it,” exclaimed the +girl, with rising distress. “It was that which made me so +afraid of coming to you, although I felt that I must, for I dreaded +that when you asked me for proofs and I could give you none you +would refuse to help me. We were not even in time to hear him +speak, and yet I know, <i>know</i> with absolute conviction, that +my father would not have done this. There are things that you +cannot explain, Mr Carrados, and—well, there is an end of +it.”</p> +<p>Her voice sank to an absent-minded whisper.</p> +<p>“Everyone will condemn him now that he cannot defend +himself, and yet he could not even have had the revolver that was +found at his feet.”</p> +<p>“What is that?” demanded Carrados sharply. “Do +you mean that?”</p> +<p>“Mean what?” she asked, with the blankness of one +who has lost the thread of her own thoughts.</p> +<p>“What you said about the revolver—that your father +could not have had it?”</p> +<p>“The revolver?” she repeated half wearily; “oh +yes. It was a heavy, old-fashioned affair. It had been lying in a +drawer of his desk for more than ten years because once a dog came +into the orchard in broad daylight light and worried half-a-dozen +lambs before anyone could do anything.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but why could he not have it on Thursday?”</p> +<p>“I noticed that it was gone. After Frank had left in the +afternoon I went into the room where he had been waiting, to finish +dusting. The paper says the dining-room, but it was really +papa’s business-room and no one else used it. Then when I was +dusting the desk I saw that the revolver was no longer +there.”</p> +<p>“You had occasion to open the drawer?”</p> +<p>“It is really a very old bureau and none of the drawers +fit closely. Dust lies on the ledges and you always have to open +them a little to dust properly. They were never kept +locked.”</p> +<p>“Possibly your father had taken the revolver with +him.”</p> +<p>“No. I had seen it there after he had gone. He rode to +Stinbridge immediately after lunch and did not return until nearly +eight. After he left I went to dust his room. It was then that I +saw it. I was doing the desk when Frank knocked and interrupted me. +That is how I came to be there twice.”</p> +<p>“But you said that you had no proof, Miss +Whitmarsh,” Carrados reminded her, with deep seriousness. +“Do you not recognize the importance—the deadly +importance—that this one shred of evidence may +assume?”</p> +<p>“Does it?” she replied simply. “I am afraid +that I am rather dull just now. All yesterday I was absolutely +dazed; I could not do the most ordinary things. I found myself +looking at the clock for minutes together, yet absolutely incapable +of grasping what time it was. In the same way I know that it struck +me as being funny about the revolver but I always had to give it +up. It was as though everything was there but things would not fit +in.”</p> +<p>“You are sure, absolutely sure, that you saw the revolver +there after your father had left, and missed it before he +returned?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes,” said the girl quickly; “I remember +realizing how curious it was at the time. Besides there is +something else. I so often had things to ask papa about when he was +out of the house that I got into the way of making little notes to +remind me later. This morning I found on my dressing-table one that +I had written on Thursday afternoon.”</p> +<p>“About this weapon?”</p> +<p>“Yes; to ask him what could have become of it.”</p> +<p>Carrados made a further inquiry, and this was Madeline +Whitmarsh’s account of affairs existing between the two +branches of the family:</p> +<p>Until the time of William Whitmarsh, father of the William +Whitmarsh just deceased, the properties of Barony and High Barn had +formed one estate, descending from a William senior to a William +junior down a moderately long line of yeomen Whitmarshes. Through +the influence of his second wife this William senior divided the +property, leaving Barony with its four hundred acres of good land +to William junior, and High Barn, with which went three hundred +acres of poor land, to his other son, father of the Frank +implicated in the recent tragedy. But though divided, the two farms +still had one common link. Beneath their growing corn and varied +pasturage lay, it was generally admitted, a seam of coal at a depth +and of a thickness that would render its working a paying venture. +Even in William the Divider’s time, when the idea was new, +money in plenty would have been forthcoming, but he would have none +of it, and when he died his will contained a provision restraining +either son from mining or exploiting his land for mineral without +the consent and co-operation of the other.</p> +<p>This restriction became a legacy of hate. The brothers were only +half-brothers and William having suffered unforgettably at the +hands of his step-mother had old scores to pay off. Quite +comfortably prosperous on his own rich farm, and quite satisfied +with the excellent shooting and the congenial life, he had not the +slightest desire to increase his wealth. He had the old dour, +peasant-like instinct to cling to the house and the land of his +forefathers. From this position no argument moved him.</p> +<p>In the meanwhile, on the other side of the new boundary fence, +Frank senior was growing poorer year by year. To his periodical +entreaties that William would agree to shafts being sunk on High +Barn he received an emphatic “Never in my time!” The +poor man argued, besought, threatened and swore; the prosperous one +shook his head and grinned. Carrados did not need to hear the local +saying: “Half brothers: whole haters; like the +Whitmarshes,” to read the situation.</p> +<p>“Of course I do not really understand the business part of +it,” said Madeline, “and many people blamed poor papa, +especially when Uncle Frank drank himself to death. But I know that +it was not mere obstinacy. He loved the undisturbed, peaceful land +just as it was, and his father had wished it to remain the same. +Collieries would bring swarms of strange men into the +neighbourhood, poachers and trespassers, he said. The smoke and +dust would ruin the land for miles round and drive away the game, +and in the end, if the work did not turn out profitable, we should +all be much worse off than before.”</p> +<p>“Does the restriction lapse now; will Mr Frank junior be +able to mine?”</p> +<p>“It will now lie with Frank and my brother William, just +as it did before with their fathers. I should expect Willie to be +quite favourable. He is more—modern.”</p> +<p>“You have not spoken of your brother.”</p> +<p>“I have two. Bob, the younger, is in Mexico,” she +explained; “and Willie in Canada with an engineering firm. +They did not get on very well with papa and they went +away.”</p> +<p>It did not require preternatural observation to deduce that the +late William Whitmarsh had been “a little +difficult.”</p> +<p>“When Uncle Frank died, less than six months ago, Frank +came back to High Barn from South Africa. He had been away about +two years.”</p> +<p>“Possibly he did not get on well with his +father?”</p> +<p>Madeline smiled sadly.</p> +<p>“I am afraid that no two Whitmarsh men ever did get on +well together,” she admitted.</p> +<p>“Your father and young Frank, for instance?”</p> +<p>“Their lands adjoin; there were always quarrels and +disputes,” she replied. “Then Frank had his +father’s grievance over again.”</p> +<p>“He wished to mine?”</p> +<p>“Yes. He told me that he had had experience of coal in +Natal.”</p> +<p>“There was no absolute ostracism between you then? You +were to some extent friends?”</p> +<p>“Scarcely.” She appeared to reflect. +“Acquaintances.... We met occasionally, of course, at +people’s houses.”</p> +<p>“You did not visit High Barn?”</p> +<p>“Oh no.”</p> +<p>“But there was no particular reason why you should +not?”</p> +<p>“Why do you ask me that?” she demanded quickly, and +in a tone that was quite incompatible with the simple inquiry. +Then, recognizing the fact, she added, with shamefaced penitence: +“I beg your pardon, Mr Carrados. I am afraid that my nerves +have gone to pieces since Thursday. The most ordinary things affect +me inexplicably.”</p> +<p>“That is a common experience in such circumstances,” +said Carrados reassuringly. “Where were you at the time of +the tragedy?”</p> +<p>“I was in my bedroom, which is rather high up, changing. I +had driven down to the village, to give an order, and had just +returned. Mrs Lawrence told me that she had been afraid there might +be quarrelling, but no one would ever have dreamed of this, and +then came a loud shot and then, after a few seconds, another not so +loud, and we rushed to the door—she and Mary first—and +everything was absolutely still.”</p> +<p>“A loud shot <i>and then another not so +loud</i>?”</p> +<p>“Yes; I noticed that even at the time. I happened to speak +to Mrs Lawrence of it afterwards and then she also remembered that +it had been like that.”</p> +<p>Afterwards Carrados often recalled with grim pleasantry that the +two absolutely vital points in the fabric of circumstantial +evidence that was to exonerate her father and fasten the guilt upon +another had dropped from the girl’s lips utterly by chance. +But at the moment the facts themselves monopolized his +attention.</p> +<p>“You are not disappointed that I can tell you so +little?” she asked timidly.</p> +<p>“Scarcely,” he replied. “A suicide who could +not have had the weapon he dies by, a victim who is miraculously +preserved by an opportune watch, and two shots from the same pistol +that differ materially in volume, all taken together do not admit +of disappointment.”</p> +<p>“I am very stupid,” she said. “I do not seem +able to follow things. But you will come and clear my +father’s name?”</p> +<p>“I will come,” he replied. “Beyond that who +shall prophesy?”</p> +<p>It had been arranged between them that the girl should return at +once, while Carrados would travel down to Great Tilling late that +same afternoon and put up at the local fishing inn. In the evening +he would call at Barony, where Madeline would accept him as a +distant connexion of the family. The arrangement was only for the +benefit of the domestics and any casual visitor who might be +present, for there was no possibility of a near relation being in +attendance. Nor was there any appreciable danger of either his name +or person being recognized in those parts, a consideration that +seemed to have some weight with the girl, for, more than once, she +entreated him not to disclose to anyone his real business there +until he had arrived at a definite conclusion.</p> +<p>It was nine o’clock, but still just light enough to +distinguish the prominent features of the landscape, when Carrados, +accompanied by Parkinson, reached Barony. The house, as described +by the man-servant, was a substantial grey stone building, very +plain, very square, very exposed to the four winds. It had not even +a porch to break the flat surface, and here and there in the line +of its three solid storeys a window had been built up by some +frugal, tax-evading Whitmarsh of a hundred years ago.</p> +<p>“Sombre enough,” commented Carrados, “but the +connexion between environment and crime is not yet capable of +analysis. We get murders in brand-new suburban villas and the +virtues, light-heartedness and good-fellowship, in moated granges. +What should you say about it, eh, Parkinson?”</p> +<p>“I should say it was damp, sir,” observed Parkinson, +with his wisest air.</p> +<p>Madeline Whitmarsh herself opened the door. She took them down +the long flagged hall to the dining-room, a cheerful enough +apartment whatever its exterior might forebode.</p> +<p>“I am glad you have come now, Mr Carrados,” she said +hurriedly, when the door was closed. “Sergeant Brewster is +here from Stinbridge police station to make some arrangements for +the inquest. It is to be held at the schools here on Monday. He +says that he must take the revolver with him to produce. Do you +want to see it before he goes?”</p> +<p>“I should like to,” replied Carrados.</p> +<p>“Will you come into papa’s room then? He is +there.”</p> +<p>The sergeant was at the table, making notes in his pocket-book, +when they entered. An old-fashioned revolver lay before him.</p> +<p>“This gentleman has come a long way on hearing about poor +papa,” said the girl. “He would like to see the +revolver before you take it, Mr Brewster.”</p> +<p>“Good-evening, sir,” said Brewster. +“It’s a bad business that brings us here.”</p> +<p>Carrados “looked” round the room and returned the +policeman’s greeting. Madeline hesitated for a moment, and +then, picking up the weapon, put it into the blind man’s +hand.</p> +<p>“A bit out of date, sir,” remarked Brewster, with a +nod. “But in good order yet, I find.”</p> +<p>“An early French make, I should say; one of +Lefaucheux’s probably,” said Carrados. “You have +removed the cartridges?”</p> +<p>“Why, yes,” admitted the sergeant, producing a +matchbox from his pocket. “They’re pin-fire, you see, +and I’m not too fond of carrying a thing like that loaded in +my pocket as I’m riding a young horse.”</p> +<p>“Quite so,” agreed Carrados, fingering the +cartridges. “I wonder if you happened to mark the order of +these in the chambers?”</p> +<p>“That was scarcely necessary, sir. Two, together, had been +fired; the other four had not.”</p> +<p>“I once knew a case—possibly I read of +it—where a pack of cards lay on the floor. It was a murder +case and the guilt or innocence of an accused man depended on the +relative positions of the fifty-first and fifty-second +cards.”</p> +<p>“I think you must have read of that, sir,” replied +Brewster, endeavouring to implicate first Miss Whitmarsh and then +Parkinson in his meaning smile. “However, this is +straightforward enough.”</p> +<p>“Then, of course, you have not thought it worth while to +look for anything else?”</p> +<p>“I have noted all the facts that have any bearing on the +case. Were you referring to any particular point, sir?”</p> +<p>“I was only wondering,” suggested Carrados, with +apologetic mildness, “whether you, or anyone, had happened to +find a wad lying about anywhere.”</p> +<p>The sergeant stroked his well-kept moustache to hide the smile +that insisted, however, on escaping through his eyes.</p> +<p>“Scarcely, sir,” he replied, with fine irony. +“Bulleted revolver cartridges contain no wad. You are +thinking of a shot-gun, sir.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” said Carrados, bending over the spent +cartridge he was examining, “that settles it, of +course.”</p> +<p>“I think so, sir,” assented the sergeant, +courteously but with a quiet enjoyment of the situation. +“Well, miss, I’ll be getting back now. I think I have +everything I want.”</p> +<p>“You will excuse me a few minutes?” said Miss +Whitmarsh, and the two callers were left alone.</p> +<p>“Parkinson,” said Carrados softly, as the door +closed, “look round on the floor. There is no wad lying +within sight?”</p> +<p>“No, sir.”</p> +<p>“Then take the lamp and look behind things. But if you +find one don’t disturb it.”</p> +<p>For a minute strange and gigantic shadows chased one another +across the ceiling as Parkinson moved the table-lamp to and fro +behind the furniture. The man to whom blazing sunlight and the +deepest shade were as one sat with his eyes fixed tranquilly on the +unseen wall before him.</p> +<p>“There is a little pellet of paper here behind the couch, +sir,” announced Parkinson.</p> +<p>“Then put the lamp back.”</p> +<p>Together they drew the cumbrous old piece of furniture from the +wall and Carrados went behind. On hands and knees, with his face +almost to the floor, he appeared to be studying even the dust that +lay there. Then with a light, unerring touch he carefully picked up +the thing that Parkinson had found. Very gently he unrolled it, +using his long, delicate fingers so skilfully that even at the end +the particles of dust still clung here and there to the surface of +the paper.</p> +<p>“What do you make of it, Parkinson?”</p> +<p>Parkinson submitted it to the judgment of a single sense.</p> +<p>“A cigarette-paper to all appearance, sir. I can’t +say it’s a kind that I’ve had experience of. It +doesn’t seem to have any distinct watermark but there is a +half-inch of glossy paper along one edge.”</p> +<p>“Amber-tipped. Yes?”</p> +<p>“Another edge is a little uneven; it appears to have been +cut.”</p> +<p>“This edge opposite the mouthpiece. Yes, yes.”</p> +<p>“Patches are blackened, and little holes—like +pinpricks—burned through. In places it is scorched +brown.”</p> +<p>“Anything else?”</p> +<p>“I hope there is nothing I have failed to observe, +sir,” said Parkinson, after a pause.</p> +<p>Carrados’s reply was a strangely irrelevant question.</p> +<p>“What is the ceiling made of?” he demanded.</p> +<p>“Oak boards, sir, with a heavy cross-beam.”</p> +<p>“Are there any plaster figures about the room?”</p> +<p>“No, sir.”</p> +<p>“Or anything at all that is whitewashed?”</p> +<p>“Nothing, sir.”</p> +<p>Carrados raised the scrap of tissue paper to his nose again, and +for the second time he touched it with his tongue.</p> +<p>“Very interesting, Parkinson,” he remarked, and +Parkinson’s responsive “Yes, sir” was a model of +discreet acquiescence.</p> +<p>“I am sorry that I had to leave you,” said Miss +Whitmarsh, returning, “but Mrs Lawrence is out and my father +made a practice of offering everyone refreshment.”</p> +<p>“Don’t mention it,” said Carrados. “We +have not been idle. I came from London to pick up a scrap of paper, +lying on the floor of this room. Well, here it is.” He rolled +the tissue into a pellet again and held it before her eyes.</p> +<p>“The wad!” she exclaimed eagerly. “Oh, that +proves that I was right?”</p> +<p>“Scarcely ‘proves,’ Miss Whitmarsh.”</p> +<p>“But it shows that one of the shots was a blank charge, as +you suggested this morning might have been the case.”</p> +<p>“Hardly even that.”</p> +<p>“What then?” she demanded, with her large dark eyes +fixed in a curious fascination on his inscrutable face.</p> +<p>“That behind the couch we have found this scrap of +powder-singed paper.”</p> +<p>There was a moment’s silence. The girl turned away her +head.</p> +<p>“I am afraid that I am a little disappointed,” she +murmured.</p> +<p>“Perhaps better now than later. I wished to warn you that +we must prove every inch of ground. Does your cousin Frank smoke +cigarettes?”</p> +<p>“I cannot say, Mr Carrados. You see ... I knew so little +of him.”</p> +<p>“Quite so; there was just the chance. And your +father?”</p> +<p>“He never did. He despised them.”</p> +<p>“That is all I need ask you now. What time to-morrow shall +I find you in, Miss Whitmarsh? It is Sunday, you +remember.”</p> +<p>“At any time. The curiosity I inspire doesn’t tempt +me to encounter my friends, I can assure you,” she replied, +her face hardening at the recollection. “But ... Mr +Carrados——”</p> +<p>“Yes?”</p> +<p>“The inquest is on Monday afternoon.... I had a sort of +desperate faith that you would be able to vindicate +papa.”</p> +<p>“By the time of the inquest, you mean?”</p> +<p>“Yes. Otherwise——”</p> +<p>“The verdict of a coroner’s jury means nothing, Miss +Whitmarsh. It is the merest formality.”</p> +<p>“It means a very great deal to me. It haunts and oppresses +me. If they say—if it goes out—that papa is guilty of +the attempt of murder, and of suicide, I shall never raise my head +again.”</p> +<p>Carrados had no desire to prolong a futile discussion.</p> +<p>“Good-night,” he said, holding out his hand.</p> +<p>“Good-night, Mr Carrados.” She detained him a +moment, her voice vibrant with quiet feeling. “I already owe +you more than I can ever hope to express. Your wonderful +kindness——”</p> +<p>“A strange case,” moralized Carrados, as they walked +out of the quadrangular yard into the silent lane. +“Instructive, but I more than half wish I’d never heard +of it.”</p> +<p>“The young lady seems grateful, sir,” Parkinson +ventured to suggest.</p> +<p>“The young lady is the case, Parkinson,” replied his +master rather grimly.</p> +<p>A few score yards farther on a swing gate gave access to a +field-path, cutting off the corner that the high road made with the +narrow lane. This was their way, but instead of following the brown +line of trodden earth Carrados turned to the left and indicated the +line of buildings that formed the back of one side of the +quadrangle they had passed through.</p> +<p>“We will investigate here,” he said. “Can you +see a way in?”</p> +<p>Most of the buildings opened on to the yard, but at one end of +the range Parkinson discovered a door, secured only by a wooden +latch. The place beyond was impenetrably dark, but the sweet, dusty +smell of hay, and, from beyond, the occasional click of a +horse’s shoe on stone and the rattle of a head-stall chain +through the manger ring told them that they were in the chaff-pen +at the back of the stable.</p> +<p>Carrados stretched out his hand and touched the wall with a +single finger.</p> +<p>“We need go no farther,” he remarked, and as they +resumed their way across the field he took out a handkerchief to +wipe the taste of whitewash off his tongue.</p> +<p>Madeline had spoken of the gradual decay of High Barn, but +Carrados was hardly prepared for the poverty-stricken desolation +which Parkinson described as they approached the homestead on the +following afternoon. He had purposely selected a way that took them +across many of young Whitmarsh’s ill-stocked fields, fields +in which sedge and charlock wrote an indictment of neglected drains +and half-hearted tillage. On the land, the gates and hedges had +been broken and unkempt; the buildings, as they passed through the +farmyard, were empty and showed here and there a skeletonry of bare +rafters to the sky.</p> +<p>“Starved,” commented the blind man, as he read the +signs. “The thirsty owner and the hungry land: they +couldn’t both be fed.”</p> +<p>Although it was afternoon the bolts and locks of the front door +had to be unfastened in answer to their knock. When at last the +door was opened a shrivelled little old woman, rather +wicked-looking in a comic way, and rather begrimed, stood +there.</p> +<p>“Mr Frank Whitmarsh?” she replied to +Carrados’s polite inquiry; “oh yes, he lives here. +Frank,” she called down the passage, “you’re +wanted.”</p> +<p>“What is it, mother?” responded a man’s full, +strong voice rather lazily.</p> +<p>“Come and see!” and the old creature ogled Carrados +with her beady eyes as though the situation constituted an +excellent joke between them.</p> +<p>There was the sound of a chair being moved and at the end of the +passage a tall man appeared in his shirt sleeves.</p> +<p>“I am a stranger to you,” explained Carrados, +“but I am staying at the Bridge Inn and I heard of your +wonderful escape on Thursday. I was so interested that I have taken +the liberty of coming across to congratulate you on it.”</p> +<p>“Oh, come in, come in,” said Whitmarsh. “Yes +... it was a sort of miracle, wasn’t it?”</p> +<p>He led the way back into the room he had come from, half +kitchen, half parlour. It at least had the virtue of an air of rude +comfort, and some of the pewter and china that ornamented its +mantelpiece and dresser would have rejoiced a collector’s +heart.</p> +<p>“You find us a bit rough,” apologized the young man, +with something of contempt towards his surroundings. “We +weren’t expecting visitors.”</p> +<p>“And I was hesitating to come because I thought that you +would be surrounded by your friends.”</p> +<p>This very ordinary remark seemed to afford Mrs Whitmarsh +unbounded entertainment and for quite a number of seconds she was +convulsed with silent amusement at the idea.</p> +<p>“Shut up, mother,” said her dutiful son. +“Don’t take any notice of her,” he remarked to +his visitors, “she often goes on like that. The fact +is,” he added, “we Whitmarshes aren’t popular in +these parts. Of course that doesn’t trouble me; I’ve +seen too much of things. And, taken as a boiling, the Whitmarshes +deserve it.”</p> +<p>“Ah, wait till you touch the coal, my boy, then +you’ll see,” put in the old lady, with malicious +triumph.</p> +<p>“I reckon we’ll show them then, eh, mother?” +he responded bumptiously. “Perhaps you’ve heard of +that, Mr——?”</p> +<p>“Carrados—Wynn Carrados. This is my man, Parkinson. +I have to be attended because my sight has failed me. Yes, I had +heard something about coal. Providence seems to be on your side +just now, Mr Whitmarsh. May I offer you a cigarette?”</p> +<p>“Thanks, I don’t mind for once in a way.”</p> +<p>“They’re Turkish; quite innocuous, I +believe.”</p> +<p>“Oh, it isn’t that. I can smoke cutty with any man, +I reckon, but the paper affects my lips. I make my own and use a +sort of paper with an end that doesn’t stick.”</p> +<p>“The paper is certainly a drawback sometimes,” +agreed Carrados. “I’ve found that. Might I try one of +yours?”</p> +<p>They exchanged cigarettes and Whitmarsh returned to the subject +of the tragedy.</p> +<p>“This has made a bit of a stir, I can tell you,” he +remarked, with complacency.</p> +<p>“I am sure it would. Well, it was the chief topic of +conversation when I was in London.”</p> +<p>“Is that a fact?” Avowedly indifferent to the +opinion of his neighbours, even Whitmarsh was not proof against the +pronouncement of the metropolis. “What do they say about it +up there?”</p> +<p>“I should be inclined to think that the interest centres +round the explanation you will give at the inquest of the cause of +the quarrel.”</p> +<p>“There! What did I tell you?” exclaimed Mrs +Whitmarsh.</p> +<p>“Be quiet, mother. That’s easily answered, Mr +Carrados. There was a bit of duck shooting that lay between our two +places. But perhaps you saw that in the papers?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” admitted Carrados, “I saw that. +Frankly, the reason seemed inadequate to so deadly a +climax.”</p> +<p>“What did I say?” demanded the irrepressible dame. +“They won’t believe it.”</p> +<p>The young man cast a wrathful look in his mother’s +direction and turned again to the visitor.</p> +<p>“That’s because you don’t know Uncle William. +<i>Any</i> reason was good enough for him to quarrel over. Here, +let me give you an instance. When I went in on Thursday he was +smoking a pipe. Well, after a bit I took out a cigarette and lit +it. I’m damned if he didn’t turn round and start on me +for that. How does that strike you for one of your own family, Mr +Carrados?”</p> +<p>“Unreasonable, I am bound to admit. I am afraid that I +should have been inclined to argue the point. What did you do, Mr +Whitmarsh?”</p> +<p>“I hadn’t gone there to quarrel,” replied the +young man, half sulky at the recollection. “It was his house. +I threw it into the fireplace.”</p> +<p>“Very obliging,” said Carrados. “But, if I may +say so, it isn’t so much a matter of speculation why he +should shoot you as why he should shoot himself.”</p> +<p>“The gentleman seems friendly. Better ask his advice, +Frank,” put in the old woman in a penetrating whisper.</p> +<p>“Stow it, mother!” said Whitmarsh sharply. +“Are you crazy? Her idea of a coroner’s inquest,” +he explained to Carrados, with easy contempt, “is that I am +being tried for murder. As a matter of fact, Uncle William was a +very passionate man, and, like many of that kind, he frequently +went beyond himself. I don’t doubt that he was sure +he’d killed me, for he was a good shot and the force of the +blow sent me backwards. He was a very proud man too, in a +way—wouldn’t stand correction or any kind of authority, +and when he realized what he’d done and saw in a flash that +he would be tried and hanged for it, suicide seemed the easiest way +out of his difficulties, I suppose.”</p> +<p>“Yes; that sounds reasonable enough,” admitted +Carrados.</p> +<p>“Then you don’t think there will be any trouble, +sir?” insinuated Mrs Whitmarsh anxiously.</p> +<p>Frank had already professed his indifference to local opinion, +but Carrados was conscious that both of them hung rather +breathlessly on to his reply.</p> +<p>“Why, no,” he declared weightily. “I should +see no reason for anticipating any. Unless,” he added +thoughtfully, “some clever lawyer was instructed to insist +that there must be more in the dispute than appears on the +surface.”</p> +<p>“Oh, them lawyers, them lawyers!” moaned the old +lady in a panic. “They can make you say anything.”</p> +<p>“They can’t make me say anything.” A cunning +look came into his complacent face. “And, besides, +who’s going to engage a lawyer?”</p> +<p>“The family of the deceased gentleman might wish to do +so.”</p> +<p>“Both of the sons are abroad and could not be back in +time.”</p> +<p>“But is there not a daughter here? I understood +so.”</p> +<p>Whitmarsh gave a short, unpleasant laugh and turned to look at +his mother.</p> +<p>“Madeline won’t. You may bet your bottom tikkie +it’s the last thing she would want.”</p> +<p>The little old creature gazed admiringly at her big showy son +and responded with an appreciative grimace that made her look more +humorously rat-like than ever.</p> +<p>“He! he! Missie won’t,” she tittered. +“That would never do. He! he!” Wink succeeded nod and +meaning smile until she relapsed into a state of quietness; and +Parkinson, who had been fascinated by her contortions, was unable +to decide whether she was still laughing or had gone to sleep.</p> +<p>Carrados stayed a few more minutes and before they left he asked +to see the watch.</p> +<p>“A unique memento, Mr Whitmarsh,” he remarked, +examining it. “I should think this would become a family +heirloom.”</p> +<p>“It’s no good for anything else,” said +Whitmarsh practically. “A famous time-keeper it was, +too.”</p> +<p>“The fingers are both gone.”</p> +<p>“Yes; the glass was broken, of course, and they must have +caught in the cloth of my pocket and ripped off.”</p> +<p>“They naturally would; it was ten minutes past nine when +the shot was fired.”</p> +<p>The young man thought and then nodded.</p> +<p>“About that,” he agreed.</p> +<p>“Nearer than ‘about,’ if your watch was +correct. Very interesting, Mr Whitmarsh. I am glad to have seen the +watch that saved your life.”</p> +<p>Instead of returning to the inn Carrados directed Parkinson to +take the road to Barony. Madeline was at home, and from the sound +of voices it appeared that she had other visitors, but she came out +to Carrados at once, and at his request took him into the empty +dining-room while Parkinson stayed in the hall.</p> +<p>“Yes?” she said eagerly.</p> +<p>“I have come to tell you that I must throw up my +brief,” he said. “There is nothing more to be done and +I return to town to-night.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” she stammered helplessly. “I +thought—I thought——”</p> +<p>“Your cousin did not abstract the revolver when he was +here on Thursday, Miss Whitmarsh. He did not at his leisure fire a +bullet into his own watch to make it appear, later in the day, as +if he had been attacked. He did not reload the cartridge with a +blank charge. He did not deliberately shoot your father and then +fire off the blank cartridge. He <i>was</i> attacked and the +newspaper version is substantially correct. The whole fabric so +delicately suggested by inference and innuendo falls to +pieces.”</p> +<p>“Then you desert me, Mr Carrados?” she said, in a +low, bitter voice.</p> +<p>“I have seen the watch—the watch that saved +Whitmarsh’s life,” he continued, unmoved. “It +would save it again if necessary. It indicates ten minutes past +nine—the time to a minute at which it is agreed the shot was +fired. By what prescience was he to know at what exact minute his +opportunity would occur?”</p> +<p>“When I saw the watch on Thursday night the fingers were +not there.”</p> +<p>“They are not, but the shaft remains. It is of an +old-fashioned pattern and it will only take the fingers in one +position. That position indicates ten minutes past nine.”</p> +<p>“Surely it would have been an easy matter to have altered +that afterwards?”</p> +<p>“In this case fate has been curiously systematic, Miss +Whitmarsh. The bullet that shattered the works has so locked the +action that it will not move a fraction this way or +that.”</p> +<p>“There is something more than this—something that I +do not understand,” she persisted. “I think I have a +right to know.”</p> +<p>“Since you insist, there is. There is the wad of the blank +cartridge that you fired in the outbuilding.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” she exclaimed, in the moment of startled +undefence, “how do you—how can +you——”</p> +<p>“You must leave the conjurer his few tricks for effect. Of +course you naturally would fire it where the precious pellet could +not get lost—the paper you steamed off the cigarette that +Whitmarsh threw into the empty fire-grate; and of course the place +must be some distance from the house or even that slight report +might occasion remark.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” she confessed, in a sudden abandonment to +weary indifference, “it has been useless. I was a fool to set +my cleverness against yours. Now, I suppose, Mr Carrados, you will +have to hand me over to justice?</p> +<p>“Well; why don’t you say something?” she +demanded impatiently, as he offered no comment.</p> +<p>“People frequently put me in this embarrassing +position,” he explained diffidently, “and throw the +responsibility on me. Now a number of years ago a large and stately +building was set up in London and it was beautifully called +‘The Royal Palace of Justice.’ That was its official +name and that was what it was to be; but very soon people got into +the way of calling it the Law Courts, and to-day, if you asked a +Londoner to direct you to the Palace of Justice he would +undoubtedly set you down as a religious maniac. You see my +difficulty?”</p> +<p>“It is very strange,” she said, intent upon her own +reflections, “but I do not feel a bit ashamed to you of what +I have done. I do not even feel afraid to tell you all about it, +although of some of that I must certainly be ashamed. Why is +it?”</p> +<p>“Because I am blind?”</p> +<p>“Oh no,” she replied very positively.</p> +<p>Carrados smiled at her decision but he did not seek to explain +that when he could no longer see the faces of men the power was +gradually given to him of looking into their hearts, to which some +in their turn—strong, free spirits—instinctively +responded.</p> +<p>“There is such a thing as friendship at first +sight,” he suggested.</p> +<p>“Why, yes; like quite old friends,” she agreed. +“It is a pity that I had no very trusty friend, since my +mother died when I was quite little. Even my father has +been—it is queer to think of it now—well, almost a +stranger to me really.”</p> +<p>She looked at Carrados’s serene and kindly face and +smiled.</p> +<p>“It is a great relief to be able to talk like this, +without the necessity for lying,” she remarked. “Did +you know that I was engaged?”</p> +<p>“No; you had not told me that.”</p> +<p>“Oh no, but you might have heard of it. He is a clergyman +whom I met last summer. But, of course, that is all over +now.”</p> +<p>“You have broken it off?”</p> +<p>“Circumstances have broken it off. The daughter of a man +who had the misfortune to be murdered might just possibly be +tolerated as a vicar’s wife, but the daughter of a murderer +and suicide—it is unthinkable! You see, the requirements for +the office are largely social, Mr Carrados.”</p> +<p>“Possibly your vicar may have other views.”</p> +<p>“Oh, he isn’t a vicar yet, but he is rather +well-connected, so it is quite assured. And he would be dreadfully +torn if the choice lay with him. As it is, he will perhaps rather +soon get over my absence. But, you see, if we married he could +never get over my presence; it would always stand in the way of his +preferment. I worked very hard to make it possible, but it could +not be.”</p> +<p>“You were even prepared to send an innocent man to the +gallows?”</p> +<p>“I think so, at one time,” she admitted frankly. +“But I scarcely thought it would come to that. There are so +many well-meaning people who always get up petitions.... No, as I +stand here looking at myself over there, I feel that I +couldn’t quite have hanged Frank, no matter how much he +deserved it.... You are very shocked, Mr Carrados?”</p> +<p>“Well,” admitted Carrados, with pleasant +impartiality, “I have seen the young man, but the penalty, +even with a reprieve, still seems to me a little severe.”</p> +<p>“Yet how do you know, even now, that he is, as you say, an +innocent man?”</p> +<p>“I don’t,” was the prompt admission. “I +only know, in this astonishing case, that so far as my +investigation goes, he did not murder your father by the act of his +hand.”</p> +<p>“Not according to your Law Courts?” she suggested. +“But in the great Palace of Justice?... Well, you shall +judge.”</p> +<p>She left his side, crossed the room, and stood by the square, +ugly window, looking out, but as blind as Carrados to the details +of the somnolent landscape.</p> +<p>“I met Frank for the first time after I was at all +grown-up about three years ago, when I returned from +boarding-school. I had not seen him since I was a child, and I +thought him very tall and manly. It seemed a frightfully romantic +thing in the circumstances to meet him secretly—of course my +thoughts flew to Romeo and Juliet. We put impassioned letters for +one another in a hollow tree that stood on the boundary hedge. But +presently I found out—gradually and incredulously at first +and then one night with a sudden terrible certainty—that my +ideas of romance were not his.... I had what is called, I believe, +a narrow escape. I was glad when he went abroad, for it was only my +self-conceit that had suffered. I was never in love with him: only +in love with the idea of being in love with him.</p> +<p>“A few months ago Frank came back to High Barn. I tried +never to meet him anywhere, but one day he overtook me in the +lanes. He said that he had thought a lot about me while he was +away, and would I marry him. I told him that it was impossible in +any case, and, besides, I was engaged. He coolly replied that he +knew. I was dumbfounded and asked him what he meant.</p> +<p>“Then he took out a packet of my letters that he had kept +somewhere all the time. He insisted on reading parts of them up and +telling me what this and that meant and what everyone would say it +proved. I was horrified at the construction that seemed capable of +being put on my foolish but innocent gush. I called him a coward +and a blackguard and a mean cur and a sneaking cad and everything I +could think of in one long breath, until I found myself faint and +sick with excitement and the nameless growing terror of it.</p> +<p>“He only laughed and told me to think it over, and then +walked on, throwing the letters up into the air and catching +them.</p> +<p>“It isn’t worth while going into all the times he +met and threatened me. I was to marry him or he would expose me. He +would never allow me to marry anyone else. And then finally he +turned round and said that he didn’t really want to marry me +at all; he only wanted to force father’s consent to start +mining and this had seemed the easiest way.”</p> +<p>“That is what is called blackmail, Miss Whitmarsh; a word +you don’t seem to have applied to him. The punishment ranges +up to penal servitude for life in extreme cases.”</p> +<p>“Yes, that is what it really was. He came on Thursday with +the letters in his pocket. That was his last threat when he could +not move me. I can guess what happened. He read the letters and +proposed a bargain. And my father, who was a very passionate man, +and very proud in certain ways, shot him as he thought, and then, +in shame and in the madness of despair, took his own life.... Now, +Mr Carrados, you were to be my judge.”</p> +<p>“I think,” said the blind man, with a great pity in +his voice, “that it will be sufficient for you to come up for +Judgment when called upon.”</p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<p>Three weeks later a registered letter bearing the Liverpool +postmark was delivered at The Turrets. After he had read it +Carrados put it away in a special drawer of his desk, and once or +twice in after years, when his work seemed rather barren, he took +it out and read it. This is what it contained:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Mr Carrados</span>,—Some +time after you had left me that Sunday afternoon, a man came in the +dark to the door and asked for me. I did not see his face for he +kept in the shade, but his figure was not very unlike that of your +servant Parkinson. A packet was put into my hands and he was gone +without a word. From this I imagine that perhaps you did not leave +quite as soon as you had intended.</p> +<p>“Thank you very much indeed for the letters. I was glad to +have the miserable things, to drop them into the fire, and to see +them pass utterly out of my own and everybody else’s life. I +wonder who else in the world would have done so much for a forlorn +creature who just flashed across a few days of his busy life? and +then I wonder who else could.</p> +<p>“But there is something else for which I thank you now +far, far more, and that is for saving me from the blindness of my +own passionate folly. When I look back on the abyss of meanness, +treachery and guilt into which I would have wilfully cast myself, +and been condemned to live in all my life, I can scarcely trust +myself to write.</p> +<p>“I will not say that I do not suffer now. I think I shall +for many years to come, but all the bitterness and I think all the +hardness have been drawn out.</p> +<p>“You will see that I am writing from Liverpool. I have +taken a second-class passage to Canada and we sail to-night. +Willie, who returned to Barony last week, has lent me all the money +I shall need until I find work. Do not be apprehensive. It is not +with the vague uncertainty of an indifferent typist or a +downtrodden governess that I go, but as an efficient domestic +servant—a capable cook, housemaid or ‘general,’ +as need be. It sounds rather incredible at first, does it not, but +such things happen, and I shall get on very well.</p> +<p>“Good-bye, Mr Carrados; I shall remember you very often +and very gratefully.</p> +<p class="alignright">“<span class="smcap">Madeline Whitmarsh.</span><br /></p> +<p>“<i>P.S.</i>—Yes, there is friendship at first +sight.”</p> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_COMEDY_AT_FOUNTAIN_COTTAGE" id= +"THE_COMEDY_AT_FOUNTAIN_COTTAGE"></a>THE COMEDY AT FOUNTAIN +COTTAGE</h2> +<p>Carrados had rung up Mr Carlyle soon after the inquiry agent had +reached his office in Bampton Street on a certain morning in April. +Mr Carlyle’s face at once assumed its most amiable expression +as he recognized his friend’s voice.</p> +<p>“Yes, Max,” he replied, in answer to the call, +“I am here and at the top of form, thanks. Glad to know that +you are back from Trescoe. Is there—anything?”</p> +<p>“I have a couple of men coming in this evening whom you +might like to meet,” explained Carrados. “Manoel the +Zambesia explorer is one and the other an East-End slum doctor who +has seen a few things. Do you care to come round to +dinner?”</p> +<p>“Delighted,” warbled Mr Carlyle, without a +moment’s consideration. “Charmed. Your usual hour, +Max?” Then the smiling complacence of his face suddenly +changed and the wire conveyed an exclamation of annoyance. “I +am really very sorry, Max, but I have just remembered that I have +an engagement. I fear that I must deny myself after all.”</p> +<p>“Is it important?”</p> +<p>“No,” admitted Mr Carlyle. “Strictly speaking, +it is not in the least important; this is why I feel compelled to +keep it. It is only to dine with my niece. They have just got into +an absurd doll’s house of a villa at Groat’s Heath and +I had promised to go there this evening.”</p> +<p>“Are they particular to a day?”</p> +<p>There was a moment’s hesitation before Mr Carlyle +replied.</p> +<p>“I am afraid so, now it is fixed,” he said. +“To you, Max, it will be ridiculous or incomprehensible that +a third to dinner—and he only a middle-aged +uncle—should make a straw of difference. But I know that in +their bijou way it will be a little domestic event to +Elsie—an added anxiety in giving the butcher an order, an +extra course for dinner, perhaps; a careful drilling of the one +diminutive maid-servant, and she is such a charming little +woman—eh? Who, Max? No! No! I did not say the maid-servant; +if I did it is the fault of this telephone. Elsie is such a +delightful little creature that, upon my soul, it would be too bad +to fail her now.”</p> +<p>“Of course it would, you old humbug,” agreed +Carrados, with sympathetic laughter in his voice. “Well, come +to-morrow instead. I shall be alone.”</p> +<p>“Oh, besides, there is a special reason for going, which +for the moment I forgot,” explained Mr Carlyle, after +accepting the invitation. “Elsie wishes for my advice with +regard to her next-door neighbour. He is an elderly man of retiring +disposition and he makes a practice of throwing kidneys over into +her garden.”</p> +<p>“Kittens! Throwing kittens?”</p> +<p>“No, no, Max. Kidneys. Stewed k-i-d-n-e-y-s. It is a +little difficult to explain plausibly over a badly vibrating +telephone, I admit, but that is what Elsie’s letter assured +me, and she adds that she is in despair.”</p> +<p>“At all events it makes the lady quite independent of the +butcher, Louis!”</p> +<p>“I have no further particulars, Max. It may be a solitary +diurnal offering, or the sky may at times appear to rain kidneys. +If it is a mania the symptoms may even have become more pronounced +and the man is possibly showering beef-steaks across by this time. +I will make full inquiry and let you know.”</p> +<p>“Do,” assented Carrados, in the same light-hearted +spirit. “Mrs Nickleby’s neighbourly admirer expressed +his feelings by throwing cucumbers, you remember, but this man puts +him completely in the shade.”</p> +<p>It had not got beyond the proportions of a jest to either of +them when they rang off—one of those whimsical occurrences in +real life that sound so fantastic in outline. Carrados did not give +the matter another thought until the next evening when his +friend’s arrival revived the subject.</p> +<p>“And the gentleman next door?” he inquired among his +greetings. “Did the customary offering arrive while you were +there?”</p> +<p>“No,” admitted Mr Carlyle, beaming pleasantly upon +all the familiar appointments of the room, “it did not, Max. +In fact, so diffident has the mysterious philanthropist become, +that no one at Fountain Cottage has been able to catch sight of him +lately, although I am told that Scamp—Elsie’s +terrier—betrays a very self-conscious guilt and suspiciously +muddy paws every morning.”</p> +<p>“Fountain Cottage?”</p> +<p>“That is the name of the toy villa.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but Fountain something, Groat’s +Heath—Fountain Court: wasn’t that where +Metrobe——?”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes, to be sure, Max. Metrobe the traveller, the +writer and scientist——”</p> +<p>“Scientist!”</p> +<p>“Well, he took up spiritualism or something, didn’t +he? At any rate, he lived at Fountain Court, an old red-brick house +in a large neglected garden there, until his death a couple of +years ago. Then, as Groat’s Heath had suddenly become a +popular suburb with a tube railway, a land company acquired the +estate, the house was razed to the ground and in a twinkling a +colony of Noah’s ark villas took its place. There is Metrobe +Road here, and Court Crescent there, and Mansion Drive and what +not, and Elsie’s little place perpetuates another +landmark.”</p> +<p>“I have Metrobe’s last book there,” said +Carrados, nodding towards a point on his shelves. “In fact he +sent me a copy. ‘The Flame beyond the Dome’ it is +called—the queerest farrago of balderdash and metaphysics +imaginable. But what about the neighbour, Louis? Did you settle +what we might almost term ‘his hash’?”</p> +<p>“Oh, he is mad, of course. I advised her to make as little +fuss about it as possible, seeing that the man lives next door and +might become objectionable, but I framed a note for her to send +which will probably have a good effect.”</p> +<p>“Is he mad, Louis?”</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t say that he is strictly a lunatic, +but there is obviously a screw loose somewhere. He may carry +indiscriminate benevolence towards Yorkshire terriers to irrational +lengths. Or he may be a food specialist with a grievance. In effect +he is mad on at least that one point. How else are we to account +for the circumstances?”</p> +<p>“I was wondering,” replied Carrados +thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“You suggest that he really may have a sane +object?”</p> +<p>“I suggest it—for the sake of argument. If he has a +sane object, what is it?”</p> +<p>“That I leave to you, Max,” retorted Mr Carlyle +conclusively. “If he has a sane object, pray what is +it?”</p> +<p>“For the sake of the argument I will tell you that in +half-a-dozen words, Louis,” replied Carrados, with +good-humoured tolerance. “If he is not mad in the sense which +you have defined, the answer stares us in the face. His object is +precisely that which he is achieving.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle looked inquiringly into the placid, unemotional face +of his blind friend, as if to read there whether, incredible as it +might seem, Max should be taking the thing seriously after all.</p> +<p>“And what is that?” he asked cautiously.</p> +<p>“In the first place he has produced the impression that he +is eccentric or irresponsible. That is sometimes useful in itself. +Then what else has he done?”</p> +<p>“What else, Max?” replied Mr Carlyle, with some +indignation. “Well, whatever he wishes to achieve by it I can +tell you one thing else that he has done. He has so demoralized +Scamp with his confounded kidneys that Elsie’s neatly +arranged flower-beds—and she took Fountain Cottage +principally on account of an unusually large garden—are +hopelessly devastated. If she keeps the dog up, the garden is +invaded night and day by an army of peregrinating feline marauders +that scent the booty from afar. He has gained the everlasting +annoyance of an otherwise charming neighbour, Max. Can you tell me +what he has achieved by that?”</p> +<p>“The everlasting esteem of Scamp probably. Is he a good +watch-dog, Louis?”</p> +<p>“Good heavens, Max!” exclaimed Mr Carlyle, coming to +his feet as though he had the intention of setting out for +Groat’s Heath then and there, “is it possible that he +is planning a burglary?”</p> +<p>“Do they keep much of value about the house?”</p> +<p>“No,” admitted Mr Carlyle, sitting down again with +considerable relief. “No, they don’t. Bellmark is not +particularly well endowed with worldly goods—in fact, between +ourselves, Max, Elsie could have done very much better from a +strictly social point of view, but he is a thoroughly good fellow +and idolizes her. They have no silver worth speaking of, and for +the rest—well, just the ordinary petty cash of a frugal young +couple.”</p> +<p>“Then he probably is not planning a burglary. I confess +that the idea did not appeal to me. If it is only that, why should +he go to the trouble of preparing this particular succulent dish to +throw over his neighbour’s ground when cold liver would do +quite as well?”</p> +<p>“If it is not only that, why should he go to the trouble, +Max?”</p> +<p>“Because by that bait he produces the greatest disturbance +of your niece’s garden.”</p> +<p>“And, if sane, why should he wish to do that?”</p> +<p>“Because in those conditions he can the more easily +obliterate his own traces if he trespasses there at +nights.”</p> +<p>“Well, upon my word, that’s drawing a bow at a +venture, Max. If it isn’t burglary, what motive could the man +have for any such nocturnal perambulation?”</p> +<p>An expression of suave mischief came into Carrados’s +usually imperturbable face.</p> +<p>“Many imaginable motives surely, Louis. You are a man of +the world. Why not to meet a charming little +woman——”</p> +<p>“No, by gad!” exclaimed the scandalized uncle +warmly; “I decline to consider the remotest possibility of +that explanation. Elsie——”</p> +<p>“Certainly not,” interposed Carrados, smothering his +quiet laughter. “The maid-servant, of course.”</p> +<p>Mr Carlyle reined in his indignation and recovered himself with +his usual adroitness.</p> +<p>“But, you know, that is an atrocious libel, Max,” he +added. “I never said such a thing. However, is it +probable?”</p> +<p>“No,” admitted Carrados. “I don’t think +that in the circumstances it is at all probable.”</p> +<p>“Then where are we, Max?”</p> +<p>“A little further than we were at the beginning. Very +little.... Are you willing to give me a roving commission to +investigate?”</p> +<p>“Of course, Max, of course,” assented Mr Carlyle +heartily. “I—well, as far as I was concerned, I +regarded the matter as settled.”</p> +<p>Carrados turned to his desk and the ghost of a smile might +possibly have lurked about his face. He produced some stationery +and indicated it to his visitor.</p> +<p>“You don’t mind giving me a line of introduction to +your niece?”</p> +<p>“Pleasure,” murmured Carlyle, taking up a pen. +“What shall I say?”</p> +<p>Carrados took the inquiry in its most literal sense and for +reply he dictated the following letter:—</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“‘<span class="smcap">My dear +Elsie</span>,’—</p> +</div> +<p>“If that is the way you usually address her,” he +parenthesized.</p> +<p>“Quite so,” acquiesced Mr Carlyle, writing.</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“‘The bearer of this is Mr Carrados, of whom I have +spoken to you.’</p> +</div> +<p>“You have spoken of me to her, I trust, Louis?” he +put in.</p> +<p>“I believe that I have casually referred to you,” +admitted the writer.</p> +<p>“I felt sure you would have done. It makes the rest +easier.</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“‘He is not in the least mad although he frequently +does things which to the uninitiated appear more or less eccentric +at the moment. I think that you would be quite safe in complying +with any suggestion he may make.</p> +<p>“‘Your affectionate uncle,</p> +<p class="alignright">“‘<span class="smcap">Louis +Carlyle.</span>’”<br /></p> +</div> +<p>He accepted the envelope and put it away in a pocket-book that +always seemed extraordinarily thin for the amount of papers it +contained.</p> +<p>“I may call there to-morrow,” he added.</p> +<p>Neither again referred to the subject during the evening, but +when Parkinson came to the library a couple of hours after midnight +to know whether he would be required again, he found his master +rather deeply immersed in a book and a gap on the shelf where +“The Flame beyond the Dome” had formerly stood.</p> +<p>It is not impossible that Mr Carlyle supplemented his brief note +of introduction with a more detailed communication that reached his +niece by the ordinary postal service at an earlier hour than the +other. At all events, when Mr Carrados presented himself at the toy +villa on the following afternoon he found Elsie Bellmark +suspiciously disposed to accept him and his rather gratuitous +intervention among her suburban troubles as a matter of course.</p> +<p>When the car drew up at the bright green wooden gate of Fountain +Cottage another visitor, apparently a good-class working man, was +standing on the path of the trim front garden, lingering over a +reluctant departure. Carrados took sufficient time in alighting to +allow the man to pass through the gate before he himself entered. +The last exchange of sentences reached his ear.</p> +<p>“I’m sure, marm, you won’t find anyone to do +the work at less.”</p> +<p>“I can quite believe that,” replied a very fair +young lady who stood nearer the house, “but, you see, we do +all the gardening ourselves, thank you.”</p> +<p>Carrados made himself known and was taken into the daintily +pretty drawing-room that opened on to the lawn behind the +house.</p> +<p>“I do not need to ask if you are Mrs Bellmark,” he +had declared.</p> +<p>“I have Uncle Louis’s voice?” she divined +readily.</p> +<p>“The niece of his voice, so to speak,” he admitted. +“Voices mean a great deal to me, Mrs Bellmark.”</p> +<p>“In recognizing and identifying people?” she +suggested.</p> +<p>“Oh, very much more than that. In recognizing and +identifying their moods—their thoughts even. There are subtle +lines of trouble and the deep rings of anxious care quite as patent +to the ear as to the sharpest eye sometimes.”</p> +<p>Elsie Bellmark shot a glance of curiously interested speculation +to the face that, in spite of its frank, open bearing, revealed so +marvellously little itself.</p> +<p>“If I had any dreadful secret, I think that I should be a +little afraid to talk to you, Mr Carrados,” she said, with a +half-nervous laugh.</p> +<p>“Then please do not have any dreadful secret,” he +replied, with quite youthful gallantry. “I more than suspect +that Louis has given you a very transpontine idea of my tastes. I +do not spend all my time tracking murderers to their lairs, Mrs +Bellmark, and I have never yet engaged in a hand-to-hand encounter +with a band of cut-throats.”</p> +<p>“He told us,” she declared, the recital lifting her +voice into a tone that Carrados vowed to himself was wonderfully +thrilling, “about this: He said that you were once in a sort +of lonely underground cellar near the river with two desperate men +whom you could send to penal servitude. The police, who were to +have been there at a certain time, had not arrived, and you were +alone. The men had heard that you were blind but they could hardly +believe it. They were discussing in whispers which could not be +overheard what would be the best thing to do, and they had just +agreed that if you really were blind they would risk the attempt to +murder you. Then, Louis said, at that very moment you took a pair +of scissors from your pocket, and coolly asking them why they did +not have a lamp down there, you actually snuffed the candle that +stood on the table before you. Is that true?”</p> +<p>Carrados’s mind leapt vividly back to the most desperate +moment of his existence, but his smile was gently deprecating as he +replied:</p> +<p>“I seem to recognize the touch of truth in the inclination +to do <i>anything</i> rather than fight,” he confessed. +“But, although he never suspects it, Louis really sees life +through rose-coloured opera glasses. Take the case of your quite +commonplace neighbour——”</p> +<p>“That is really what you came about?” she interposed +shrewdly.</p> +<p>“Frankly, it is,” he replied. “I am more +attracted by a turn of the odd and grotesque than by the most +elaborate tragedy. The fantastic conceit of throwing stewed kidneys +over into a neighbour’s garden irresistibly appealed to me. +Louis, as I was saying, regards the man in the romantic light of a +humanitarian monomaniac or a demented food reformer. I take a more +subdued view and I think that his action, when rightly understood, +will prove to be something quite obviously natural.”</p> +<p>“Of course it is very ridiculous, but all the same it has +been desperately annoying,” she confessed. “Still, it +scarcely matters now. I am only sorry that it should have been the +cause of wasting your valuable time, Mr Carrados.”</p> +<p>“My valuable time,” he replied, “only seems +valuable to me when I am, as you would say, wasting it. But is the +incident closed? Louis told me that he had drafted you a letter of +remonstrance. May I ask if it has been effective?”</p> +<p>Instead of replying at once she got up and walked to the long +French window and looked out over the garden where the fruit-trees +that had been spared from the older cultivation were rejoicing the +eye with the promise of their pink and white profusion.</p> +<p>“I did not send it,” she said slowly, turning to her +visitor again. “There is something that I did not tell Uncle +Louis, because it would only have distressed him without doing any +good. We may be leaving here very soon.”</p> +<p>“Just when you had begun to get it well in hand?” he +said, in some surprise.</p> +<p>“It is a pity, is it not, but one cannot foresee these +things. There is no reason why you should not know the cause, since +you have interested yourself so far, Mr Carrados. In fact,” +she added, smiling away the seriousness of the manner into which +she had fallen, “I am not at all sure that you do not know +already.”</p> +<p>He shook his head and disclaimed any such prescience.</p> +<p>“At all events you recognized that I was not exactly +light-hearted,” she insisted. “Oh, you did not say that +<i>I</i> had dark rings under my eyes, I know, but the cap fitted +excellently.... It has to do with my husband’s business. He +is with a firm of architects. It was a little venturesome taking +this house—we had been in apartments for two years—but +Roy was doing so well with his people and I was so enthusiastic for +a garden that we did—scarcely two months ago. Everything +seemed quite assured. Then came this thunderbolt. The +partners—it is only a small firm, Mr Carrados—required +a little more capital in the business. Someone whom they know is +willing to put in two thousand pounds, but he stipulates for a post +with them as well. He, like my husband, is a draughtsman. There is +no need for the services of both and so——”</p> +<p>“Is it settled?”</p> +<p>“In effect, it is. They are as nice as can be about it but +that does not alter the facts. They declare that they would rather +have Roy than the new man and they have definitely offered to +retain him if he can bring in even one thousand pounds. I suppose +they have some sort of compunction about turning him adrift, for +they have asked him to think it over and let them know on Monday. +Of course, that is the end of it. It may be—I don’t +know—I don’t like to think, how long before Roy gets +another position equally good. We must endeavour to get this house +off our hands and creep back to our three rooms. It is ... +luck.”</p> +<p>Carrados had been listening to her wonderfully musical voice as +another man might have been drawn irresistibly to watch the piquant +charm of her delicate face.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he assented, almost to himself, “it is +that strange, inexplicable grouping of men and things that, under +one name or another, we all confess ... just luck.”</p> +<p>“Of course you will not mention this to Uncle Louis yet, +Mr Carrados?”</p> +<p>“If you do not wish it, certainly not.”</p> +<p>“I am sure that it would distress him. He is so +soft-hearted, so kind, in everything. Do you know, I found out that +he had had an invitation to dine somewhere and meet some quite +important people on Tuesday. Yet he came here instead, although +most other men would have cried off, just because he knew that we +small people would have been disappointed.”</p> +<p>“Well, you can’t expect me to see any self-denial in +that,” exclaimed Carrados. “Why, I was one of them +myself.”</p> +<p>Elsie Bellmark laughed outright at the expressive disgust of his +tone.</p> +<p>“I had no idea of that,” she said. “Then there +is another reason. Uncle is not very well off, yet if he knew how +Roy was situated he would make an effort to arrange matters. He +would, I am sure, even borrow himself in order to lend us the +money. That is a thing Roy and I are quite agreed on. We will go +back; we will go under, if it is to be; but we will not borrow +money, not even from Uncle Louis.”</p> +<p>Once, subsequently, Carrados suddenly asked Mr Carlyle whether +he had ever heard a woman’s voice roll like a celestial +kettle-drum. The professional gentleman was vastly amused by the +comparison, but he admitted that he had not.</p> +<p>“So that, you see,” concluded Mrs Bellmark, +“there is really nothing to be done.”</p> +<p>“Oh, quite so; I am sure that you are right,” +assented her visitor readily. “But in the meanwhile I do not +see why the annoyance of your next-door neighbour should be +permitted to go on.”</p> +<p>“Of course: I have not told you that, and I could not +explain it to uncle,” she said. “I am anxious not to do +anything to put him out because I have a hope—rather a faint +one, certainly—that the man may be willing to take over this +house.”</p> +<p>It would be incorrect to say that Carrados pricked up his +ears—if that curious phenomenon has any physical +manifestation—for the sympathetic expression of his face did +not vary a fraction. But into his mind there came a gleam such as +might inspire a patient digger who sees the first speck of gold +that justifies his faith in an unlikely claim.</p> +<p>“Oh,” he said, quite conversationally, “is +there a chance of that?”</p> +<p>“He undoubtedly did want it. It is very curious in a way. +A few weeks ago, before we were really settled, he came one +afternoon, saying he had heard that this house was to be let. Of +course I told him that he was too late, that we had already taken +it for three years.”</p> +<p>“You were the first tenants?”</p> +<p>“Yes. The house was scarcely ready when we signed the +agreement. Then this Mr Johns, or Jones—I am not sure which +he said—went on in a rather extraordinary way to persuade me +to sublet it to him. He said that the house was dear and I could +get plenty, more convenient, at less rent, and it was unhealthy, +and the drains were bad, and that we should be pestered by tramps +and it was just the sort of house that burglars picked on, only he +had taken a sort of fancy to it and he would give me a fifty-pound +premium for the term.”</p> +<p>“Did he explain the motive for this rather eccentric +partiality?”</p> +<p>“I don’t imagine that he did. He repeated several +times that he was a queer old fellow with his whims and fancies and +that they often cost him dear.”</p> +<p>“I think we all know that sort of old fellow,” said +Carrados. “It must have been rather entertaining for you, Mrs +Bellmark.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I suppose it was,” she admitted. “The +next thing we knew of him was that he had taken the other house as +soon as it was finished.”</p> +<p>“Then he would scarcely require this?”</p> +<p>“I am afraid not.” It was obvious that the situation +was not disposed of. “But he seems to have so little +furniture there and to live so solitarily,” she explained, +“that we have even wondered whether he might not be there +merely as a sort of caretaker.”</p> +<p>“And you have never heard where he came from or who he +is?”</p> +<p>“Only what the milkman told my servant—our chief +source of local information, Mr Carrados. He declares that the man +used to be the butler at a large house that stood here formerly, +Fountain Court, and that his name is neither Johns nor Jones. But +very likely it is all a mistake.”</p> +<p>“If not, he is certainly attached to the soil,” was +her visitor’s rejoinder. “And, apropos of that, will +you show me over your garden before I go, Mrs Bellmark?”</p> +<p>“With pleasure,” she assented, rising also. “I +will ring now and then I can offer you tea when we have been round. +That is, if you——?”</p> +<p>“Thank you, I do,” he replied. “And would you +allow my man to go through into the garden—in case I require +him?”</p> +<p>“Oh, certainly. You must tell me just what you want +without thinking it necessary to ask permission, Mr +Carrados,” she said, with a pretty air of protection. +“Shall Amy take a message?”</p> +<p>He acquiesced and turned to the servant who had appeared in +response to the bell.</p> +<p>“Will you go to the car and tell my +man—Parkinson—that I require him here. Say that he can +bring his book; he will understand.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>They stepped out through the French window and sauntered across +the lawn. Before they had reached the other side Parkinson reported +himself.</p> +<p>“You had better stay here,” said his master, +indicating the sward generally. “Mrs Bellmark will allow you +to bring out a chair from the drawing-room.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, sir; there is a rustic seat already +provided,” replied Parkinson.</p> +<p>He sat down with his back to the houses and opened the book that +he had brought. Let in among its pages was an ingeniously contrived +mirror.</p> +<p>When their promenade again brought them near the rustic seat +Carrados dropped a few steps behind.</p> +<p>“He is watching you from one of the upper rooms, +sir,” fell from Parkinson’s lips as he sat there +without raising his eyes from the page before him.</p> +<p>The blind man caught up to his hostess again.</p> +<p>“You intended this lawn for croquet?” he asked.</p> +<p>“No; not specially. It is too small, isn’t +it?”</p> +<p>“Not necessarily. I think it is in about the proportion of +four by five all right. Given that, size does not really matter for +an unsophisticated game.”</p> +<p>To settle the point he began to pace the plot of ground, across +and then lengthways. Next, apparently dissatisfied with this rough +measurement, he applied himself to marking it off more exactly by +means of his walking-stick. Elsie Bellmark was by no means dull but +the action sprang so naturally from the conversation that it did +not occur to her to look for any deeper motive.</p> +<p>“He has got a pair of field-glasses and is now at the +window,” communicated Parkinson.</p> +<p>“I am going out of sight,” was the equally quiet +response. “If he becomes more anxious tell me +afterwards.”</p> +<p>“It is quite all right,” he reported, returning to +Mrs Bellmark with the satisfaction of bringing agreeable news. +“It should make a splendid little ground, but you may have to +level up a few dips after the earth has set.”</p> +<p>A chance reference to the kitchen garden by the visitor took +them to a more distant corner of the enclosure where the rear of +Fountain Cottage cut off the view from the next house windows.</p> +<p>“We decided on this part for vegetables because it does +not really belong to the garden proper,” she explained. +“When they build farther on this side we shall have to give +it up very soon. And it would be a pity if it was all in +flowers.”</p> +<p>With the admirable spirit of the ordinary Englishwoman, she +spoke of the future as if there was no cloud to obscure its +prosperous course. She had frankly declared their position to her +uncle’s best friend because in the circumstances it had +seemed to be the simplest and most straightforward thing to do; +beyond that, there was no need to whine about it.</p> +<p>“It is a large garden,” remarked Carrados. +“And you really do all the work of it yourselves?”</p> +<p>“Yes; I think that is half the fun of a garden. Roy is out +here early and late and he does all the hard work. But how did you +know? Did uncle tell you?”</p> +<p>“No; you told me yourself.”</p> +<p>“I? Really?”</p> +<p>“Indirectly. You were scorning the proffered services of a +horticultural mercenary at the moment of my arrival.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I remember,” she laughed. “It was Irons, +of course. He is a great nuisance, he is so stupidly persistent. +For some weeks now he has been coming time after time, trying to +persuade me to engage him. Once when we were all out he had +actually got into the garden and was on the point of beginning work +when I returned. He said he saw the milkmen and the grocers leaving +samples at the door so he thought that he would too!”</p> +<p>“A practical jester evidently. Is Mr Irons a local +character?”</p> +<p>“He said that he knew the ground and the conditions round +about here better than anyone else in Groat’s Heath,” +she replied. “Modesty is not among Mr Irons’s +handicaps. He said that he——How curious!”</p> +<p>“What is, Mrs Bellmark?”</p> +<p>“I never connected the two men before, but he said that he +had been gardener at Fountain Court for seven years.”</p> +<p>“Another family retainer who is evidently attached to the +soil.”</p> +<p>“At all events they have not prospered equally, for while +Mr Johns seems able to take a nice house, poor Irons is willing to +work for half-a-crown a day, and I am told that all the other men +charge four shillings.”</p> +<p>They had paced the boundaries of the kitchen garden, and as +there was nothing more to be shown Elsie Bellmark led the way back +to the drawing-room. Parkinson was still engrossed in his book, the +only change being that his back was now turned towards the high +paling of clinker-built oak that separated the two gardens.</p> +<p>“I will speak to my man,” said Carrados, turning +aside.</p> +<p>“He hurried down and is looking through the fence, +sir,” reported the watcher.</p> +<p>“That will do then. You can return to the car.”</p> +<p>“I wonder if you would allow me to send you a small +hawthorn-tree?” inquired Carrados among his felicitations +over the teacups five minutes later. “I think it ought to be +in every garden.”</p> +<p>“Thank you—but is it worth while?” replied Mrs +Bellmark, with a touch of restraint. As far as mere words went she +had been willing to ignore the menace of the future, but in the +circumstances the offer seemed singularly inept and she began to +suspect that outside his peculiar gifts the wonderful Mr Carrados +might be a little bit obtuse after all.</p> +<p>“Yes; I think it is,” he replied, with quiet +assurance.</p> +<p>“In spite of——?”</p> +<p>“I am not forgetting that unless your husband is prepared +on Monday next to invest one thousand pounds you contemplate +leaving here.”</p> +<p>“Then I do not understand it, Mr Carrados.”</p> +<p>“And I am unable to explain as yet. But I brought you a +note from Louis Carlyle, Mrs Bellmark. You only glanced at it. Will +you do me the favour of reading me the last paragraph?”</p> +<p>She picked up the letter from the table where it lay and +complied with cheerful good-humour.</p> +<p>“There is some suggestion that you want me to accede +to,” she guessed cunningly when she had read the last few +words.</p> +<p>“There are some three suggestions which I hope you will +accede to,” he replied. “In the first place I want you +to write to Mr Johns next door—let him get the letter +to-night—inquiring whether he is still disposed to take this +house.”</p> +<p>“I had thought of doing that shortly.”</p> +<p>“Then that is all right. Besides, he will ultimately +decline.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” she exclaimed—it would be difficult to +say whether with relief or disappointment—“do you think +so? Then why——”</p> +<p>“To keep him quiet in the meantime. Next I should like you +to send a little note to Mr Irons—your maid could deliver it +also to-night, I dare say?”</p> +<p>“Irons! Irons the gardener?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” apologetically. “Only a line or two, +you know. Just saying that, after all, if he cares to come on +Monday you can find him a few days’ work.”</p> +<p>“But in any circumstances I don’t want +him.”</p> +<p>“No; I can quite believe that you could do better. Still, +it doesn’t matter, as he won’t come, Mrs Bellmark; not +for half-a-crown a day, believe me. But the thought will tend to +make Mr Irons less restive also. Lastly, will you persuade your +husband not to decline his firm’s offer until +Monday?”</p> +<p>“Very well, Mr Carrados,” she said, after a +moment’s consideration. “You are Uncle Louis’s +friend and therefore our friend. I will do what you ask.”</p> +<p>“Thank you,” said Carrados. “I shall endeavour +not to disappoint you.”</p> +<p>“I shall not be disappointed because I have not dared to +hope. And I have nothing to expect because I am still completely in +the dark.”</p> +<p>“I have been there for nearly twenty years, Mrs +Bellmark.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I am sorry!” she cried impulsively.</p> +<p>“So am I—occasionally,” he replied. +“Good-bye, Mrs Bellmark. You will hear from me shortly, I +hope. About the hawthorn, you know.”</p> +<p>It was, indeed, in something less than forty-eight hours that +she heard from him again. When Bellmark returned to his toy villa +early on Saturday afternoon Elsie met him almost at the gate with a +telegram in her hand.</p> +<p>“I really think, Roy, that everyone we have to do with +here goes mad,” she exclaimed, in tragi-humorous despair. +“First it was Mr Johns or Jones—if he is Johns or +Jones—and then Irons who wanted to work here for half of what +he could get at heaps of places about, and now just look at this +wire that came from Mr Carrados half-an-hour ago.”</p> +<p>This was the message that he read:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><i>Please procure sardine tin opener mariner’s compass and +bottle of champagne. Shall arrive 6.45 bringing Crataegus +Coccinea.</i>—<span class="smcap">Carrados.</span></p> +</div> +<p>“Could anything be more absurd?” she demanded.</p> +<p>“Sounds as though it was in code,” speculated her +husband. “Who’s the foreign gentleman he’s +bringing?”</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s a kind of special hawthorn—I +looked it up. But a bottle of champagne, and a compass, and a +sardine tin opener! What possible connexion is there between +them?”</p> +<p>“A very resourceful man might uncork a bottle of champagne +with a sardine tin opener,” he suggested.</p> +<p>“And find his way home afterwards by means of a +mariner’s compass?” she retorted. “No, Roy dear, +you are not a sleuth-hound. We had better have our +lunch.”</p> +<p>They lunched, but if the subject of Carrados had been tabooed +the meal would have been a silent one.</p> +<p>“I have a compass on an old watch-chain somewhere,” +volunteered Bellmark.</p> +<p>“And I have a tin opener in the form of a bull’s +head,” contributed Elsie.</p> +<p>“But we have no champagne, I suppose?”</p> +<p>“How could we have, Roy? We never have had any. Shall you +mind going down to the shops for a bottle?”</p> +<p>“You really think that we ought?”</p> +<p>“Of course we must, Roy. We don’t know what +mightn’t happen if we didn’t. Uncle Louis said that +they once failed to stop a jewel robbery because the jeweller +neglected to wipe his shoes on the shop doormat, as Mr Carrados had +told him to do. Suppose Johns is a desperate anarchist and he +succeeded in blowing up Buckingham Palace because +we——”</p> +<p>“All right. A small bottle, eh?”</p> +<p>“No. A large one. Quite a large one. Don’t you see +how exciting it is becoming?”</p> +<p>“If you are excited already you don’t need much +champagne,” argued her husband.</p> +<p>Nevertheless he strolled down to the leading wine-shop after +lunch and returned with his purchase modestly draped in the light +summer overcoat that he carried on his arm. Elsie Bellmark, who had +quite abandoned her previous unconcern, in the conviction that +“something was going to happen,” spent the longest +afternoon that she could remember, and even Bellmark, in spite of +his continual adjurations to her to “look at the matter +logically,” smoked five cigarettes in place of his usual +Saturday afternoon pipe and neglected to do any gardening.</p> +<p>At exactly six-forty-five a motor car was heard approaching. +Elsie made a desperate rally to become the self-possessed hostess +again. Bellmark was favourably impressed by such marked +punctuality. Then a Regent Street delivery van bowled past their +window and Elsie almost wept.</p> +<p>The suspense was not long, however. Less than five minutes later +another vehicle raised the dust of the quiet suburban road, and +this time a private car stopped at their gate.</p> +<p>“Can you see any policemen inside?” whispered +Elsie.</p> +<p>Parkinson got down and opening the door took out a small tree +which he carried up to the porch and there deposited. Carrados +followed.</p> +<p>“At all events there isn’t much wrong,” said +Bellmark. “He’s smiling all the time.”</p> +<p>“No, it isn’t really a smile,” explained +Elsie; “it’s his normal expression.”</p> +<p>She went out into the hall just as the front door was +opened.</p> +<p>“It is the ‘Scarlet-fruited thorn’ of North +America,” Bellmark heard the visitor remarking. “Both +the flowers and the berries are wonderfully good. Do you think that +you would permit me to choose the spot for it, Mrs +Bellmark?”</p> +<p>Bellmark joined them in the hall and was introduced.</p> +<p>“We mustn’t waste any time,” he suggested. +“There is very little light left.”</p> +<p>“True,” agreed Carrados. “And Coccinea +requires deep digging.”</p> +<p>They walked through the house, and turning to the right passed +into the region of the vegetable garden. Carrados and Elsie led the +way, the blind man carrying the tree, while Bellmark went to his +outhouse for the required tools.</p> +<p>“We will direct our operations from here,” said +Carrados, when they were half-way along the walk. “You told +me of a thin iron pipe that you had traced to somewhere in the +middle of the garden. We must locate the end of it +exactly.”</p> +<p>“My rosary!” sighed Elsie, with premonition of +disaster, when she had determined the spot as exactly as she could. +“Oh, Mr Carrados!”</p> +<p>“I am sorry, but it might be worse,” said Carrados +inflexibly. “We only require to find the elbow-joint. Mr +Bellmark will investigate with as little disturbance as +possible.”</p> +<p>For five minutes Bellmark made trials with a pointed iron. Then +he cleared away the soil of a small circle and at about a foot deep +exposed a broken inch pipe.</p> +<p>“The fountain,” announced Carrados, when he had +examined it. “You have the compass, Mr Bellmark?”</p> +<p>“Rather a small one,” admitted Bellmark.</p> +<p>“Never mind, you are a mathematician. I want you to strike +a line due east.”</p> +<p>The reel and cord came into play and an adjustment was finally +made from the broken pipe to a position across the vegetable +garden.</p> +<p>“Now a point nine yards, nine feet and nine inches along +it.”</p> +<p>“My onion bed!” cried Elsie tragically.</p> +<p>“Yes; it is really serious this time,” agreed +Carrados. “I want a hole a yard across, digging here. May we +proceed?”</p> +<p>Elsie remembered the words of her uncle’s letter—or +what she imagined to be his letter—and possibly the preamble +of selecting the spot had impressed her.</p> +<p>“Yes, I suppose so. Unless,” she added hopefully, +“the turnip bed will do instead? They are not sown +yet.”</p> +<p>“I am afraid that nowhere else in the garden will +do,” replied Carrados.</p> +<p>Bellmark delineated the space and began to dig. After clearing +to about a foot deep he paused.</p> +<p>“About deep enough, Mr Carrados?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“Oh, dear no,” replied the blind man.</p> +<p>“I am two feet down,” presently reported the +digger.</p> +<p>“Deeper!” was the uncompromising response.</p> +<p>Another six inches were added and Bellmark stopped to rest.</p> +<p>“A little more and it won’t matter which way up we +plant Coccinea,” he remarked.</p> +<p>“That is the depth we are aiming for,” replied +Carrados.</p> +<p>Elsie and her husband exchanged glances. Then Bellmark drove his +spade through another layer of earth.</p> +<p>“Three feet,” he announced, when he had cleared +it.</p> +<p>Carrados advanced to the very edge of the opening.</p> +<p>“I think that if you would loosen another six inches with +the fork we might consider the ground prepared,” he +decided.</p> +<p>Bellmark changed his tools and began to break up the soil. +Presently the steel prongs grated on some obstruction.</p> +<p>“Gently,” directed the blind watcher. “I think +you will find a half-pound cocoa tin at the end of your +fork.”</p> +<p>“Well, how on earth you spotted that——!” +was wrung from Bellmark admiringly, as he cleared away the +encrusting earth. “But I believe you are about right.” +He threw up the object to his wife, who was risking a catastrophe +in her eagerness to miss no detail. “Anything in it besides +soil, Elsie?”</p> +<p>“She cannot open it yet,” remarked Carrados. +“It is soldered down.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I say,” protested Bellmark.</p> +<p>“It is perfectly correct, Roy. The lid is soldered +on.”</p> +<p>They looked at each other in varying degrees of wonder and +speculation. Only Carrados seemed quite untouched.</p> +<p>“Now we may as well replace the earth,” he +remarked.</p> +<p>“Fill it all up again?” asked Bellmark.</p> +<p>“Yes; we have provided a thoroughly disintegrated subsoil. +That is the great thing. A depth of six inches is sufficient merely +for the roots.”</p> +<p>There was only one remark passed during the operation.</p> +<p>“I think I should plant the tree just over where the tin +was,” Carrados suggested. “You might like to mark the +exact spot.” And there the hawthorn was placed.</p> +<p>Bellmark, usually the most careful and methodical of men, left +the tools where they were, in spite of a threatening shower. +Strangely silent, Elsie led the way back to the house and taking +the men into the drawing-room switched on the light.</p> +<p>“I think you have a tin opener, Mrs Bellmark?”</p> +<p>Elsie, who had been waiting for him to speak, almost jumped at +the simple inquiry. Then she went into the next room and returned +with the bull-headed utensil.</p> +<p>“Here it is,” she said, in a voice that would have +amused her at any other time.</p> +<p>“Mr Bellmark will perhaps disclose our find.”</p> +<p>Bellmark put the soily tin down on Elsie’s best +table-cover without eliciting a word of reproach, grasped it firmly +with his left hand, and worked the opener round the top.</p> +<p>“Only paper!” he exclaimed, and without touching the +contents he passed the tin into Carrados’s hands.</p> +<p>The blind man dexterously twirled out a little roll that +crinkled pleasantly to the ear, and began counting the leaves with +a steady finger.</p> +<p>“They’re bank-notes!” whispered Elsie in an +awestruck voice. She caught sight of a further detail. +“Bank-notes for a hundred pounds each. And there are dozens +of them!”</p> +<p>“Fifty, there should be,” dropped Carrados between +his figures. “Twenty-five, +twenty-six——”</p> +<p>“Good God,” murmured Bellmark; “that’s +five thousand pounds!”</p> +<p>“Fifty,” concluded Carrados, straightening the edges +of the sheaf. “It is always satisfactory to find that +one’s calculations are exact.” He detached the upper +ten notes and held them out. “Mrs Bellmark, will you accept +one thousand pounds as a full legal discharge of any claim that you +may have on this property?”</p> +<p>“Me—I?” she stammered. “But I have no +right to any in any circumstances. It has nothing to do with +us.”</p> +<p>“You have an unassailable moral right to a fair +proportion, because without you the real owners would never have +seen a penny of it. As regards your legal right”—he +took out the thin pocket-book and extracting a business-looking +paper spread it open on the table before them—“here is +a document that concedes it. ‘In consideration of the +valuable services rendered by Elsie Bellmark, etc., etc., in +causing to be discovered and voluntarily surrendering the sum of +five thousand pounds deposited and not relinquished by Alexis +Metrobe, late of, etc., etc., deceased, Messrs Binstead & +Polegate, solicitors, of 77a Bedford Row, acting on behalf of the +administrator and next-of-kin of the said etc., etc., do +hereby’—well, that’s what they do. Signed, +witnessed and stamped at Somerset House.”</p> +<p>“I suppose I shall wake presently,” said Elsie +dreamily.</p> +<p>“It was for this moment that I ventured to suggest the +third requirement necessary to bring our enterprise to a successful +end,” said Carrados.</p> +<p>“Oh, how thoughtful of you!” cried Elsie. +“Roy, the champagne.”</p> +<p>Five minutes later Carrados was explaining to a small but +enthralled audience.</p> +<p>“The late Alexis Metrobe was a man of peculiar character. +After seeing a good deal of the world and being many things, he +finally embraced spiritualism, and in common with some of its most +pronounced adherents he thenceforward abandoned what we should call +‘the common-sense view.’</p> +<p>“A few years ago, by the collation of the Book of +Revelations, a set of Zadkiel’s Almanacs, and the complete +works of Mrs Mary Baker Eddy, Metrobe discovered that the end of +the world would take place on the tenth of October 1910. It +therefore became a matter of urgent importance in his mind to +ensure pecuniary provision for himself for the time after the +catastrophe had taken place.”</p> +<p>“I don’t understand,” interrupted Elsie. +“Did he expect to survive it?”</p> +<p>“You cannot understand, Mrs Bellmark, because it is +fundamentally incomprehensible. We can only accept the fact by the +light of cases which occasionally obtain prominence. Metrobe did +not expect to survive, but he was firmly convinced that the +currency of this world would be equally useful in the spirit-land +into which he expected to pass. This view was encouraged by a lady +medium at whose feet he sat. She kindly offered to transmit to his +banking account in the Hereafter, without making any charge +whatever, any sum that he cared to put into her hands for the +purpose. Metrobe accepted the idea but not the offer. His plan was +to deposit a considerable amount in a spot of which he alone had +knowledge, so that he could come and help himself to it as +required.”</p> +<p>“But if the world had come to an +end——?”</p> +<p>“Only the material world, you must understand, Mrs +Bellmark. The spirit world, its exact impalpable counterpart, would +continue as before and Metrobe’s hoard would be spiritually +intact and available. That is the prologue.</p> +<p>“About a month ago there appeared a certain advertisement +in a good many papers. I noticed it at the time and three days ago +I had only to refer to my files to put my hand on it at once. It +reads:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“‘Alexis Metrobe. Any servant or personal attendant +of the late Alexis Metrobe of Fountain Court, Groat’s Heath, +possessing special knowledge of his habits and movements may hear +of something advantageous on applying to Binstead & Polegate, +77a Bedford Row, W.C.’</p> +</div> +<p>“The solicitors had, in fact, discovered that five +thousand pounds’ worth of securities had been realized early +in 1910. They readily ascertained that Metrobe had drawn that +amount in gold out of his bank immediately after, and there the +trace ended. He died six months later. There was no hoard of gold +and not a shred of paper to show where it had gone, yet Metrobe +lived very simply within his income. The house had meanwhile been +demolished but there was no hint or whisper of any lucky find.</p> +<p>“Two inquirers presented themselves at 77a Bedford Row. +They were informed of the circumstances and offered a reward, +varying according to the results, for information that would lead +to the recovery of the money. They are both described as +thoughtful, slow-spoken men. Each heard the story, shook his head, +and departed. The first caller proved to be John Foster, the +ex-butler. On the following day Mr Irons, formerly gardener at the +Court, was the applicant.</p> +<p>“I must now divert your attention into a side track. In +the summer of 1910 Metrobe published a curious work entitled +‘The Flame beyond the Dome.’ In the main it is an +eschatological treatise, but at the end he tacked on an epilogue, +which he called ‘The Fable of the Chameleon.’ It is +even more curious than the rest and with reason, for under the +guise of a speculative essay he gives a cryptic account of the +circumstances of the five thousand pounds and, what is more +important, details the exact particulars of its disposal. His +reason for so doing is characteristic of the man. He was conscious +by experience that he possessed an utterly treacherous memory, and +having had occasion to move the treasure from one spot to another +he feared that when the time came his bemuddled shade would be +unable to locate it. For future reference, therefore, he embodied +the details in his book, and to make sure that plenty of copies +should be in existence he circulated it by the only means in his +power—in other words, he gave a volume to everyone he knew +and to a good many people whom he didn’t.</p> +<p>“So far I have dealt with actualities. The final details +are partly speculative but they are essentially correct. Metrobe +conveyed his gold to Fountain Court, obtained a stout oak coffer +for it, and selected a spot <i>west</i> of the fountain. He chose a +favourable occasion for burying it, but by some mischance Irons +came on the scene. Metrobe explained the incident by declaring that +he was burying a favourite parrot. Irons thought nothing particular +about it then, although he related the fact to the butler, and to +others, in evidence of the general belief that ‘the old cock +was quite barmy.’ But Metrobe himself was much disturbed by +the accident. A few days later he dug up the box. In pursuance of +his new plan he carried his gold to the Bank of England and changed +it into these notes. Then transferring the venue to one due +<i>east</i> of the fountain, he buried them in this tin, satisfied +that the small space it occupied would baffle the search of anyone +not in possession of the exact location.”</p> +<p>“But, I say!” exclaimed Mr Bellmark. “Gold +might remain gold, but what imaginable use could be made of +bank-notes after the end of the world?”</p> +<p>“That is a point of view, no doubt. But Metrobe, in spite +of his foreign name, was a thorough Englishman. The world might +come to an end, but he was satisfied that somehow the Bank of +England would ride through it all right. I only suggest that. There +is much that we can only guess.”</p> +<p>“That is all there is to know, Mr Carrados?”</p> +<p>“Yes. Everything comes to an end, Mrs Bellmark. I sent my +car away to call for me at eight. Eight has struck. That is Harris +announcing his arrival.”</p> +<p>He stood up, but embarrassment and indecision marked the looks +and movements of the other two.</p> +<p>“How can we possibly take all this money, though?” +murmured Elsie, in painful uncertainty. “It is entirely your +undertaking, Mr Carrados. It is the merest fiction bringing me into +it at all.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps in the circumstances,” suggested Bellmark +nervously—“you remember the circumstances, +Elsie?—Mr Carrados would be willing to regard it as a +loan——”</p> +<p>“No, no!” cried Elsie impulsively. “There must +be no half measures. We know that a thousand pounds would be +nothing to Mr Carrados, and he knows that a thousand pounds are +everything to us.” Her voice reminded the blind man of the +candle-snuffing recital. “We will take this great gift, Mr +Carrados, quite freely, and we will not spoil the generous +satisfaction that you must have in doing a wonderful and a splendid +service by trying to hedge our obligation.”</p> +<p>“But what can we ever do to thank Mr Carrados?” +faltered Bellmark mundanely.</p> +<p>“Nothing,” said Elsie simply. “That is +it.”</p> +<p>“But I think that Mrs Bellmark has quite solved +that,” interposed Carrados.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_GAME_PLAYED_IN_THE_DARK" id= +"THE_GAME_PLAYED_IN_THE_DARK"></a>THE GAME PLAYED IN THE DARK</h2> +<p>“It’s a funny thing, sir,” said Inspector +Beedel, regarding Mr Carrados with the pensive respect that he +always extended towards the blind amateur, “it’s a +funny thing, but nothing seems to go on abroad now but what +you’ll find some trace of it here in London if you take the +trouble to look.”</p> +<p>“In the right quarter,” contributed Carrados.</p> +<p>“Why, yes,” agreed the inspector. “But nothing +comes of it nine times out of ten, because it’s no +one’s particular business to look here or the thing’s +been taken up and finished from the other end. I don’t mean +ordinary murders or single-handed burglaries, of course, +but”—a modest ring of professional pride betrayed the +quiet enthusiast—“real First-Class Crimes.”</p> +<p>“The State Antonio Five per cent. Bond Coupons?” +suggested Carrados.</p> +<p>“Ah, you are right, Mr Carrados.” Beedel shook his +head sadly, as though perhaps on that occasion someone ought to +have looked. “A man has a fit in the inquiry office of the +Agent-General for British Equatoria, and two hundred and fifty +thousand pounds’ worth of faked securities is the result in +Mexico. Then look at that jade fylfot charm pawned for +one-and-three down at the Basin and the use that could have been +made of it in the Kharkov ‘ritual murder’ +trial.”</p> +<p>“The West Hampstead Lost Memory puzzle and the Baripur +bomb conspiracy that might have been smothered if one had +known.”</p> +<p>“Quite true, sir. And the three children of that Chicago +millionaire—Cyrus V. Bunting, wasn’t +it?—kidnapped in broad daylight outside the New York Lyric +and here, three weeks later, the dumb girl who chalked the wall at +Charing Cross. I remember reading once in a financial article that +every piece of foreign gold had a string from it leading to +Threadneedle Street. A figure of speech, sir, of course, but apt +enough, I don’t doubt. Well, it seems to me that every big +crime done abroad leaves a finger-print here in London—if +only, as you say, we look in the right quarter.”</p> +<p>“And at the right moment,” added Carrados. +“The time is often the present; the place the spot beneath +our very noses. We take a step and the chance has gone for +ever.”</p> +<p>The inspector nodded and contributed a weighty monosyllable of +sympathetic agreement. The most prosaic of men in the pursuit of +his ordinary duties, it nevertheless subtly appealed to some +half-dormant streak of vanity to have his profession taken +romantically when there was no serious work on hand.</p> +<p>“No; perhaps not ‘for ever’ in one case in a +thousand, after all,” amended the blind man thoughtfully. +“This perpetual duel between the Law and the Criminal has +sometimes appeared to me in the terms of a game of cricket, +inspector. Law is in the field; the Criminal at the wicket. If Law +makes a mistake—sends down a loose ball or drops a +catch—the Criminal scores a little or has another lease of +life. But if <i>he</i> makes a mistake—if he lets a straight +ball pass or spoons towards a steady man—he is done for. His +mistakes are fatal; those of the Law are only temporary and +retrievable.”</p> +<p>“Very good, sir,” said Mr Beedel, rising—the +conversation had taken place in the study at The Turrets, where +Beedel had found occasion to present himself—“very apt +indeed. I must remember that. Well, sir, I only hope that this +‘Guido the Razor’ lot will send a catch in our +direction.”</p> +<p>The ‘this’ delicately marked Inspector +Beedel’s instinctive contempt for Guido. As a craftsman he +was compelled, on his reputation, to respect him, and he had +accordingly availed himself of Carrados’s friendship for a +confabulation. As a man—he was a foreigner: worse, an +Italian, and if left to his own resources the inspector would have +opposed to his sinuous flexibility those rigid, essentially +Britannia-metal, methods of the Force that strike the impartial +observer as so ponderous, so amateurish and conventional, and, it +must be admitted, often so curiously and inexplicably +successful.</p> +<p>The offence that had circuitously brought “il +Rasojo” and his “lot” within the cognizance of +Scotland Yard outlines the kind of story that is discreetly hinted +at by the society paragraphist of the day, politely disbelieved by +the astute reader, and then at last laid indiscreetly bare in all +its details by the inevitable princessly +“Recollections” of a generation later. It centred round +an impending royal marriage in Vienna, a certain jealous +“Countess X.” (here you have the discretion of the +paragrapher), and a document or two that might be relied upon (the +aristocratic biographer will impartially sum up the contingencies) +to play the deuce with the approaching nuptials. To procure the +evidence of these papers the Countess enlisted the services of +Guido, as reliable a scoundrel as she could probably have selected +for the commission. To a certain point—to the abstraction of +the papers, in fact—he succeeded, but it was with pursuit +close upon his heels. There was that disadvantage in employing a +rogue to do work that implicated roguery, for whatever moral right +the Countess had to the property, her accomplice had no legal right +whatever to his liberty. On half-a-dozen charges at least he could +be arrested on sight in as many capitals of Europe. He slipped out +of Vienna by the Nordbahn with his destination known, resourcefully +stopped the express outside Czaslau and got away across to Chrudim. +By this time the game and the moves were pretty well understood in +more than one keenly interested quarter. Diplomacy supplemented +justice and the immediate history of Guido became that of a fox +hunted from covert to covert with all the familiar earths stopped +against him. From Pardubitz he passed on to Glatz, reached Breslau +and went down the Oder to Stettin. Out of the liberality of his +employer’s advances he had ample funds to keep going, and he +dropped and rejoined his accomplices as the occasion ruled. A +week’s harrying found him in Copenhagen, still with no time +to spare, and he missed his purpose there. He crossed to Malmo by +ferry, took the connecting night train to Stockholm and the same +morning sailed down the Saltsjon, ostensibly bound for Obo, +intending to cross to Revel and so get back to central Europe by +the less frequented routes. But in this move again luck was against +him and receiving warning just in time, and by the mysterious +agency that had so far protected him, he contrived to be dropped +from the steamer by boat among the islands of the crowded +Archipelago, made his way to Helsingfors and within forty-eight +hours was back again on the Frihavnen with pursuit for the moment +blinked and a breathing-time to the good.</p> +<p>To appreciate the exact significance of these wanderings it is +necessary to recall the conditions. Guido was not zigzagging a +course about Europe in an aimless search for the picturesque, still +less inspired by any love of the melodramatic. To him every step +was vital, each tangent or rebound the necessary outcome of his +much-badgered plans. In his pocket reposed the papers for which he +had run grave risks. The price agreed upon for the service was +sufficiently lavish to make the risks worth taking time after time; +but in order to consummate the transaction it was necessary that +the booty should be put into his employer’s hand. Half-way +across Europe that employer was waiting with such patience as she +could maintain, herself watched and shadowed at every step. The +Countess X. was sufficiently exalted to be personally immune from +the high-handed methods of her country’s secret service, but +every approach to her was tapped. The problem was for Guido to earn +a long enough respite to enable him to communicate his position to +the Countess and for her to go or to reach him by a trusty hand. +Then the whole fabric of intrigue could fall to pieces, but so far +Guido had been kept successfully on the run and in the meanwhile +time was pressing.</p> +<p>“They lost him after the <i>Hutola</i>,” Beedel +reported, in explaining the circumstances to Max Carrados. +“Three days later they found that he’d been back again +in Copenhagen but by that time he’d flown. Now they’re +without a trace except the inference of these ‘Orange peach +blossom’ agonies in <i>The Times</i>. But the Countess has +gone hurriedly to Paris; and Lafayard thinks it all points to +London.”</p> +<p>“I suppose the Foreign Office is anxious to oblige just +now?”</p> +<p>“I expect so, sir,” agreed Beedel, “but, of +course, my instructions don’t come from that quarter. What +appeals to <i>us</i> is that it would be a feather in our +caps—they’re still a little sore up at the Yard about +Hans the Piper.”</p> +<p>“Naturally,” assented Carrados. “Well, +I’ll see what I can do if there is real occasion. Let me know +anything, and, if you see your chance yourself, come round for a +talk if you like on—to-day’s Wednesday?—I shall +be in at any rate on Friday evening.”</p> +<p>Without being a precisian, the blind man was usually exact in +such matters. There are those who hold that an engagement must be +kept at all hazard: men who would miss a death-bed message in order +to keep literal faith with a beggar. Carrados took lower, if more +substantial, ground. “My word,” he sometimes had +occasion to remark, “is subject to contingencies, like +everything else about me. If I make a promise it is conditional on +nothing which seems more important arising to counteract it. That, +among men of sense, is understood.” And, as it happened, +something did occur on this occasion.</p> +<p>He was summoned to the telephone just before dinner on Friday +evening to receive a message personally. Greatorex, his secretary, +had taken the call, but came in to say that the caller would give +him nothing beyond his name—Brebner. The name was unknown to +Carrados, but such incidents were not uncommon, and he proceeded to +comply.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he responded; “I am Max Carrados +speaking. What is it?”</p> +<p>“Oh, it is you, sir, is it? Mr Brickwill told me to get to +you direct.”</p> +<p>“Well, you are all right. Brickwill? Are you the British +Museum?”</p> +<p>“Yes. I am Brebner in the Chaldean Art Department. They +are in a great stew here. We have just found out that someone has +managed to get access to the Second Inner Greek Room and looted +some of the cabinets there. It is all a mystery as yet.”</p> +<p>“What is missing?” asked Carrados.</p> +<p>“So far we can only definitely speak of about six trays of +Greek coins—a hundred to a hundred and twenty, +roughly.”</p> +<p>“Important?”</p> +<p>The line conveyed a caustic bark of tragic amusement.</p> +<p>“Why, yes, I should say so. The beggar seems to have known +his business. All fine specimens of the best period. +Syracuse—Messana—Croton—Amphipolis. +Eumenes—Evainetos—Kimons. The chief quite +wept.”</p> +<p>Carrados groaned. There was not a piece among them that he had +not handled lovingly.</p> +<p>“What are you doing?” he demanded.</p> +<p>“Mr Brickwill has been to Scotland Yard, and, on advice, +we are not making it public as yet. We don’t want a hint of +it to be dropped anywhere, if you don’t mind, sir.”</p> +<p>“That will be all right.”</p> +<p>“It was for that reason that I was to speak with you +personally. We are notifying the chief dealers and likely +collectors to whom the coins, or some of them, may be offered at +once if it is thought that we haven’t found it out yet. +Judging from the expertness displayed in the selection, we +don’t think that there is any danger of the lot being sold to +a pawnbroker or a metal-dealer, so that we are running very little +real risk in not advertising the loss.”</p> +<p>“Yes; probably it is as well,” replied Carrados. +“Is there anything that Mr Brickwill wishes me to +do?”</p> +<p>“Only this, sir; if you are offered a suspicious lot of +Greek coins, or hear of them, would you have a look—I mean +ascertain whether they are likely to be ours, and if you think they +are communicate with us and Scotland Yard at once.”</p> +<p>“Certainly,” replied the blind man. “Tell Mr +Brickwill that he can rely on me if any indication comes my way. +Convey my regrets to him and tell him that I feel the loss quite as +a personal one.... I don’t think that you and I have met as +yet, Mr Brebner?”</p> +<p>“No, sir,” said the voice diffidently, “but I +have looked forward to the pleasure. Perhaps this unfortunate +business will bring me an introduction.”</p> +<p>“You are very kind,” was Carrados’s +acknowledgment of the compliment. “Any time ... I was going +to say that perhaps you don’t know my weakness, but I have +spent many pleasant hours over your wonderful collection. That +ensures the personal element. Good-bye.”</p> +<p>Carrados was really disturbed by the loss although his concern +was tempered by the reflection that the coins would inevitably in +the end find their way back to the Museum. That their restitution +might involve ransom to the extent of several thousand pounds was +the least poignant detail of the situation. The one harrowing +thought was that the booty might, through stress or ignorance, find +its way into the melting-pot. That dreadful contingency, remote but +insistent, was enough to affect the appetite of the blind +enthusiast.</p> +<p>He was expecting Inspector Beedel, who would be full of his own +case, but he could not altogether dismiss the aspects of +possibility that Brebner’s communication opened before his +mind. He was still concerned with the chances of destruction and a +very indifferent companion for Greatorex, who alone sat with him, +when Parkinson presented himself. Dinner was over but Carrados had +remained rather longer than his custom, smoking his mild Turkish +cigarette in silence.</p> +<p>“A lady wishes to see you, sir. She said you would not +know her name, but that her business would interest you.”</p> +<p>The form of message was sufficiently unusual to take the +attention of both men.</p> +<p>“You don’t know her, of course, Parkinson?” +inquired his master.</p> +<p>For just a second the immaculate Parkinson seemed tongue-tied. +Then he delivered himself in his most ceremonial strain.</p> +<p>“I regret to say that I cannot claim the advantage, +sir,” he replied.</p> +<p>“Better let me tackle her, sir,” suggested Greatorex +with easy confidence. “It’s probably a sub.”</p> +<p>The sportive offer was declined by a smile and a shake of the +head. Carrados turned to his attendant.</p> +<p>“I shall be in the study, Parkinson. Show her there in +three minutes. You stay and have another cigarette, Greatorex. By +that time she will either have gone or have interested +me.”</p> +<p>In three minutes’ time Parkinson threw open the study +door.</p> +<p>“The lady, sir,” he announced.</p> +<p>Could he have seen, Carrados would have received the impression +of a plainly, almost dowdily, dressed young woman of buxom figure. +She wore a light veil, but it was ineffective in concealing the +unattraction of the face beneath. The features were swart and the +upper lip darkened with the more than incipient moustache of the +southern brunette. Worse remained, for a disfiguring rash had +assailed patches of her skin. As she entered she swept the room and +its occupant with a quiet but comprehensive survey.</p> +<p>“Please take a chair, Madame. You wished to see +me?”</p> +<p>The ghost of a demure smile flickered about her mouth as she +complied, and in that moment her face seemed less uncomely. Her eye +lingered for a moment on a cabinet above the desk, and one might +have noticed that her eye was very bright. Then she replied.</p> +<p>“You are Signor Carrados, in—in the +person?”</p> +<p>Carrados made his smiling admission and changed his position a +fraction—possibly to catch her curiously pitched voice the +better.</p> +<p>“The great collector of the antiquities?”</p> +<p>“I do collect a little,” he admitted guardedly.</p> +<p>“You will forgive me, Signor, if my language is not +altogether good. When I live at Naples with my mother we let +boardings, chiefly to Inglish and Amerigans. I pick up the words, +but since I marry and go to live in Calabria my Inglish has gone +all red—no, no, you say, rusty. Yes, that is it; quite +rusty.”</p> +<p>“It is excellent,” said Carrados. “I am sure +that we shall understand one another perfectly.”</p> +<p>The lady shot a penetrating glance but the blind man’s +expression was merely suave and courteous. Then she continued:</p> +<p>“My husband is of name Ferraja—Michele Ferraja. We +have a vineyard and a little property near Forenzana.” She +paused to examine the tips of her gloves for quite an appreciable +moment. “Signor,” she burst out, with some vehemence, +“the laws of my country are not good at all.”</p> +<p>“From what I hear on all sides,” said Carrados, +“I am afraid that your country is not alone.”</p> +<p>“There is at Forenzana a poor labourer, Gian Verde of +name,” continued the visitor, dashing volubly into her +narrative. “He is one day digging in the vineyard, the +vineyard of my husband, when his spade strikes itself upon an +obstruction. ‘Aha,’ says Gian, ‘what have we +here?’ and he goes down upon his knees to see. It is an oil +jar of red earth, Signor, such as was anciently used, and in it is +filled with silver money.</p> +<p>“Gian is poor but he is wise. Does he call upon the +authorities? No, no; he understands that they are all corrupt. He +carries what he has found to my husband for he knows him to be a +man of great honour.</p> +<p>“My husband also is of brief decision. His mind is made +up. ‘Gian,’ he says, ‘keep your mouth shut. This +will be to your ultimate profit.’ Gian understands, for he +can trust my husband. He makes a sign of mutual implication. Then +he goes back to the spade digging.</p> +<p>“My husband understands a little of these things but not +enough. We go to the collections of Messina and Naples and even +Rome and there we see other pieces of silver money, similar, and +learn that they are of great value. They are of different sizes but +most would cover a lira and of the thickness of two. On the one +side imagine the great head of a pagan deity; on the +other—oh, so many things I cannot remember what.” A +gesture of circumferential despair indicated the hopeless variety +of design.</p> +<p>“A biga or quadriga of mules?” suggested Carrados. +“An eagle carrying off a hare, a figure flying with a wreath, +a trophy of arms? Some of those perhaps?”</p> +<p>“<i>Si, si bene</i>,” cried Madame Ferraja. +“You understand, I perceive, Signor. We are very cautious, +for on every side is extortion and an unjust law. See, it is even +forbidden to take these things out of the country, yet if we try to +dispose of them at home they will be seized and we punished, for +they are <i>tesoro trovato</i>, what you call treasure troven and +belonging to the State—these coins which the industry of Gian +discovered and which had lain for so long in the ground of my +husband’s vineyard.”</p> +<p>“So you brought them to England?”</p> +<p>“<i>Si</i>, Signor. It is spoken of as a land of justice +and rich nobility who buy these things at the highest prices. Also +my speaking a little of the language would serve us +here.”</p> +<p>“I suppose you have the coins for disposal then? You can +show them to me?”</p> +<p>“My husband retains them. I will take you, but you must +first give <i>parola d’onore</i> of an English Signor not to +betray us, or to speak of the circumstance to another.”</p> +<p>Carrados had already foreseen this eventuality and decided to +accept it. Whether a promise exacted on the plea of treasure trove +would bind him to respect the despoilers of the British Museum was +a point for subsequent consideration. Prudence demanded that he +should investigate the offer at once and to cavil over Madame +Ferraja’s conditions would be fatal to that object. If the +coins were, as there seemed little reason to doubt, the proceeds of +the robbery, a modest ransom might be the safest way of preserving +irreplaceable treasures, and in that case Carrados could offer his +services as the necessary intermediary.</p> +<p>“I give you the promise you require, Madame,” he +accordingly declared.</p> +<p>“It is sufficient,” assented Madame. “I will +now take you to the spot. It is necessary that you alone should +accompany me, for my husband is so distraught in this country, +where he understands not a word of what is spoken, that his poor +spirit would cry ‘We are surrounded!’ if he saw two +strangers approach the house. Oh, he is become most dreadful in his +anxiety, my husband. Imagine only, he keeps on the fire a cauldron +of molten lead and he would not hesitate to plunge into it this +treasure and obliterate its existence if he imagined himself +endangered.”</p> +<p>“So,” speculated Carrados inwardly. “A likely +precaution for a simple vine-grower of Calabria! Very well,” +he assented aloud, “I will go with you alone. Where is the +place?”</p> +<p>Madame Ferraja searched in the ancient purse that she discovered +in her rusty handbag and produced a scrap of paper.</p> +<p>“People do not understand sometimes my way of saying +it,” she explained. “<i>Sette</i>, +Herringbone——”</p> +<p>“May I——?” said Carrados, stretching out +his hand. He took the paper and touched the writing with his +finger-tips. “Oh yes, 7 Heronsbourne Place. That is on the +edge of Heronsbourne Park, is it not?” He transferred the +paper casually to his desk as he spoke and stood up. “How did +you come, Madame Ferraja?”</p> +<p>Madame Ferraja followed the careless action with a discreet +smile that did not touch her voice.</p> +<p>“By motor bus—first one then another, inquiring at +every turning. Oh, but it was interminable,” sighed the +lady.</p> +<p>“My driver is off for the evening—I did not expect +to be going out—but I will ’phone up a taxi and it will +be at the gate as soon as we are.” He despatched the message +and then, turning to the house telephone, switched on to +Greatorex.</p> +<p>“I’m just going round to Heronsbourne Park,” +he explained. “Don’t stay, Greatorex, but if anyone +calls expecting to see me, they can say that I don’t +anticipate being away more than an hour.”</p> +<p>Parkinson was hovering about the hall. With quite novel +officiousness he pressed upon his master a succession of articles +that were not required. Over this usually complacent attendant the +unattractive features of Madame Ferraja appeared to exercise a +stealthy fascination, for a dozen times the lady detected his eyes +questioning her face and a dozen times he looked guiltily away +again. But his incongruities could not delay for more than a few +minutes the opening of the door.</p> +<p>“I do not accompany you, sir?” he inquired, with the +suggestion plainly tendered in his voice that it would be much +better if he did.</p> +<p>“Not this time, Parkinson.”</p> +<p>“Very well, sir. Is there any particular address to which +we can telephone in case you are required, sir?”</p> +<p>“Mr Greatorex has instructions.”</p> +<p>Parkinson stood aside, his resources exhausted. Madame Ferraja +laughed a little mockingly as they walked down the drive.</p> +<p>“Your man-servant thinks I may eat you, Signor +Carrados,” she declared vivaciously.</p> +<p>Carrados, who held the key of his usually exact +attendant’s perturbation—for he himself had recognized +in Madame Ferraja the angelic Nina Brun, of the Sicilian +tetradrachm incident, from the moment she opened her +mouth—admitted to himself the humour of her audacity. But it +was not until half-an-hour later that enlightenment rewarded +Parkinson. Inspector Beedel had just arrived and was speaking with +Greatorex when the conscientious valet, who had been winnowing his +memory in solitude, broke in upon them, more distressed than either +had ever seen him in his life before, and with the breathless +introduction: “It was the ears, sir! I have her ears at +last!” poured out his tale of suspicion, recognition and his +present fears.</p> +<p>In the meanwhile the two objects of his concern had reached the +gate as the summoned taxicab drew up.</p> +<p>“Seven Heronsbourne Place,” called Carrados to the +driver.</p> +<p>“No, no,” interposed the lady, with decision, +“let him stop at the beginning of the street. It is not far +to walk. My husband would be on the verge of distraction if he +thought in the dark that it was the arrival of the +police;—who knows?”</p> +<p>“Brackedge Road, opposite the end of Heronsbourne +Place,” amended Carrados.</p> +<p>Heronsbourne Place had the reputation, among those who were +curious in such matters, of being the most reclusive residential +spot inside the four-mile circle. To earn that distinction it was, +needless to say, a cul-de-sac. It bounded one side of Heronsbourne +Park but did not at any point of its length give access to that +pleasance. It was entirely devoted to unostentatious little houses, +something between the villa and the cottage, some detached and some +in pairs, but all possessing the endowment of larger, more +umbrageous gardens than can generally be secured within the radius. +The local house agent described them as “delightfully +old-world” or “completely modernized” according +to the requirement of the applicant.</p> +<p>The cab was dismissed at the corner and Madame Ferraja guided +her companion along the silent and deserted way. She had begun to +talk with renewed animation, but her ceaseless chatter only served +to emphasize to Carrados the one fact that it was contrived to +disguise.</p> +<p>“I am not causing you to miss the house with looking after +me—No. 7, Madame Ferraja?” he interposed.</p> +<p>“No, certainly,” she replied readily. “It is a +little farther. The numbers are from the other end. But we are +there. <i>Ecco!</i>”</p> +<p>She stopped at a gate and opened it, still guiding him. They +passed into a garden, moist and sweet-scented with the distillate +odours of a dewy evening. As she turned to relatch the gate the +blind man endeavoured politely to anticipate her. Between them his +hat fell to the ground.</p> +<p>“My clumsiness,” he apologized, recovering it from +the step. “My old impulses and my present helplessness, alas, +Madame Ferraja!”</p> +<p>“One learns prudence by experience,” said Madame +sagely. She was scarcely to know, poor lady, that even as she +uttered this trite aphorism, under cover of darkness and his hat, +Mr Carrados had just ruined his signet ring by blazoning a golden +“7” upon her garden step to establish its identity if +need be. A cul-de-sac that numbered from the closed end seemed to +demand some investigation.</p> +<p>“Seldom,” he replied to her remark. “One goes +on taking risks. So we are there?”</p> +<p>Madame Ferraja had opened the front door with a latchkey. She +dropped the latch and led Carrados forward along the narrow hall. +The room they entered was at the back of the house, and from the +position of the road it therefore overlooked the park. Again the +door was locked behind them.</p> +<p>“The celebrated Mr Carrados!” announced Madame +Ferraja, with a sparkle of triumph in her voice. She waved her hand +towards a lean, dark man who had stood beside the door as they +entered. “My husband.”</p> +<p>“Beneath our poor roof in the most fraternal +manner,” commented the dark man, in the same derisive spirit. +“But it is wonderful.”</p> +<p>“The even more celebrated Monsieur Dompierre, unless I am +mistaken?” retorted Carrados blandly. “I bow on our +first real meeting.”</p> +<p>“You knew!” exclaimed the Dompierre of the earlier +incident incredulously. “Stoker, you were right and I owe you +a hundred lire. Who recognized you, Nina?”</p> +<p>“How should I know?” demanded the real Madame +Dompierre crossly. “This blind man himself, by +chance.”</p> +<p>“You pay a poor compliment to your charming wife’s +personality to imagine that one could forget her so soon,” +put in Carrados. “And you a Frenchman, Dompierre!”</p> +<p>“You knew, Monsieur Carrados,” reiterated Dompierre, +“and yet you ventured here. You are either a fool or a +hero.”</p> +<p>“An enthusiast—it is the same thing as both,” +interposed the lady. “What did I tell you? What did it matter +if he recognized? You see?”</p> +<p>“Surely you exaggerate, Monsieur Dompierre,” +contributed Carrados. “I may yet pay tribute to your +industry. Perhaps I regret the circumstance and the necessity but I +am here to make the best of it. Let me see the things Madame has +spoken of, and then we can consider the detail of their price, +either for myself or on behalf of others.”</p> +<p>There was no immediate reply. From Dompierre came a saturnine +chuckle and from Madame Dompierre a titter that accompanied a +grimace. For one of the rare occasions in his life Carrados found +himself wholly out of touch with the atmosphere of the situation. +Instinctively he turned his face towards the other occupant of the +room, the man addressed as “Stoker,” whom he knew to be +standing near the window.</p> +<p>“This unfortunate business <i>has</i> brought me an +introduction,” said a familiar voice.</p> +<p>For one dreadful moment the universe stood still round Carrados. +Then, with the crash and grind of overwhelming mental tumult, the +whole strategy revealed itself, like the sections of a gigantic +puzzle falling into place before his eyes.</p> +<p>There had been no robbery at the British Museum! That plausible +concoction was as fictitious as the intentionally transparent tale +of treasure trove. Carrados recognized now how ineffective the one +device would have been without the other in drawing him—how +convincing the two together—and while smarting at the +humiliation of his plight he could not restrain a dash of +admiration at the ingenuity—the accurately conjectured line +of inference—of the plot. It was again the familiar artifice +of the cunning pitfall masked by the clumsily contrived trap just +beyond it. And straightway into it he had blundered!</p> +<p>“And this,” continued the same voice, “is +Carrados, Max Carrados, upon whose perspicuity a +government—only the present government, let me in justice +say—depends to outwit the undesirable alien! My country; O my +country!”</p> +<p>“Is it really Monsieur Carrados?” inquired Dompierre +in polite sarcasm. “Are you sure, Nina, that you have not +brought a man from Scotland Yard instead?”</p> +<p>“<i>Basta!</i> he is here; what more do you want? Do not +mock the poor sightless gentleman,” answered Madame +Dompierre, in doubtful sympathy.</p> +<p>“That is exactly what I was wondering,” ventured +Carrados mildly. “I am here—what more do you want? +Perhaps you, Mr Stoker——?”</p> +<p>“Excuse me. ‘Stoker’ is a mere colloquial +appellation based on a trifling incident of my career in connection +with a disabled liner. The title illustrates the childish weakness +of the criminal classes for nicknames, together with their pitiable +baldness of invention. My real name is Montmorency, Mr +Carrados—Eustace Montmorency.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, Mr Montmorency,” said Carrados gravely. +“We are on opposite sides of the table here to-night, but I +should be proud to have been with you in the stokehold of the +<i>Benvenuto</i>.”</p> +<p>“That was pleasure,” muttered the Englishman. +“This is business.”</p> +<p>“Oh, quite so,” agreed Carrados. “So far I am +not exactly complaining. But I think it is high time to be +told—and I address myself to you—why I have been +decoyed here and what your purpose is.”</p> +<p>Mr Montmorency turned to his accomplice.</p> +<p>“Dompierre,” he remarked, with great clearness, +“why the devil is Mr Carrados kept standing?”</p> +<p>“Ah, oh, heaven!” exclaimed Madame Dompierre with +tragic resignation, and flung herself down on a couch.</p> +<p>“<i>Scusi</i>,” grinned the lean man, and with +burlesque grace he placed a chair for their guest’s +acceptance.</p> +<p>“Your curiosity is natural,” continued Mr +Montmorency, with a cold eye towards Dompierre’s antics, +“although I really think that by this time you ought to have +guessed the truth. In fact, I don’t doubt that you have +guessed, Mr Carrados, and that you are only endeavouring to gain +time. For that reason—because it will perhaps convince you +that we have nothing to fear—I don’t mind obliging +you.”</p> +<p>“Better hasten,” murmured Dompierre uneasily.</p> +<p>“Thank you, Bill,” said the Englishman, with genial +effrontery. “I won’t fail to report your intelligence +to the Rasojo. Yes, Mr Carrados, as you have already conjectured, +it is the affair of the Countess X. to which you owe this +inconvenience. You will appreciate the compliment that underlies +your temporary seclusion, I am sure. When circumstances favoured +our plans and London became the inevitable place of meeting, you +and you alone stood in the way. We guessed that you would be +consulted and we frankly feared your intervention. You were +consulted. We know that Inspector Beedel visited you two days ago +and he has no other case in hand. Your quiescence for just three +days had to be obtained at any cost. So here you are.”</p> +<p>“I see,” assented Carrados. “And having got me +here, how do you propose to keep me?”</p> +<p>“Of course that detail has received consideration. In fact +we secured this furnished house solely with that in view. There are +three courses before us. The first, quite pleasant, hangs on your +acquiescence. The second, more drastic, comes into operation if you +decline. The third—but really, Mr Carrados, I hope you +won’t oblige me even to discuss the third. You will +understand that it is rather objectionable for me to contemplate +the necessity of two able-bodied men having to use even the +smallest amount of physical compulsion towards one who is blind and +helpless. I hope you will be reasonable and accept the +inevitable.”</p> +<p>“The inevitable is the one thing that I invariably +accept,” replied Carrados. “What does it +involve?”</p> +<p>“You will write a note to your secretary explaining that +what you have learned at 7 Heronsbourne Place makes it necessary +for you to go immediately abroad for a few days. By the way, Mr +Carrados, although this is Heronsbourne Place it is <i>not</i> No. +7.”</p> +<p>“Dear, dear me,” sighed the prisoner. “You +seem to have had me at every turn, Mr Montmorency.”</p> +<p>“An obvious precaution. The wider course of giving you a +different street altogether we rejected as being too risky in +getting you here. To continue: To give conviction to the message +you will direct your man Parkinson to follow by the first +boat-train to-morrow, with all the requirements for a short stay, +and put up at Mascot’s, as usual, awaiting your arrival +there.”</p> +<p>“Very convincing,” agreed Carrados. “Where +shall I be in reality?”</p> +<p>“In a charming though rather isolated bungalow on the +south coast. Your wants will be attended to. There is a boat. You +can row or fish. You will be run down by motor car and brought back +to your own gate. It’s really very pleasant for a few days. +I’ve often stayed there myself.”</p> +<p>“Your recommendation carries weight. Suppose, for the sake +of curiosity, that I decline?”</p> +<p>“You will still go there but your treatment will be +commensurate with your behaviour. The car to take you is at this +moment waiting in a convenient spot on the other side of the park. +We shall go down the garden at the back, cross the park, and put +you into the car—anyway.”</p> +<p>“And if I resist?”</p> +<p>The man whose pleasantry it had been to call himself Eustace +Montmorency shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“Don’t be a fool,” he said tolerantly. +“You know who you are dealing with and the kind of risks we +run. If you call out or endanger us at a critical point we shall +not hesitate to silence you effectively.”</p> +<p>The blind man knew that it was no idle threat. In spite of the +cloak of humour and fantasy thrown over the proceedings, he was in +the power of coolly desperate men. The window was curtained and +shuttered against sight and sound, the door behind him locked. +Possibly at that moment a revolver threatened him; certainly +weapons lay within reach of both his keepers.</p> +<p>“Tell me what to write,” he asked, with capitulation +in his voice.</p> +<p>Dompierre twirled his mustachios in relieved approval. Madame +laughed from her place on the couch and picked up a book, watching +Montmorency over the cover of its pages. As for that gentleman, he +masked his satisfaction by the practical business of placing on the +table before Carrados the accessories of the letter.</p> +<p>“Put into your own words the message that I outlined just +now.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps to make it altogether natural I had better write +on a page of the notebook that I always use,” suggested +Carrados.</p> +<p>“Do you wish to make it natural?” demanded +Montmorency, with latent suspicion.</p> +<p>“If the miscarriage of your plan is to result in my head +being knocked—yes, I do,” was the reply.</p> +<p>“Good!” chuckled Dompierre, and sought to avoid Mr +Montmorency’s cold glance by turning on the electric +table-lamp for the blind man’s benefit. Madame Dompierre +laughed shrilly.</p> +<p>“Thank you, Monsieur,” said Carrados, “you +have done quite right. What is light to you is warmth to +me—heat, energy, inspiration. Now to business.”</p> +<p>He took out the pocket-book he had spoken of and leisurely +proceeded to flatten it down upon the table before him. As his +tranquil, pleasant eyes ranged the room meanwhile it was hard to +believe that the shutters of an impenetrable darkness lay between +them and the world. They rested for a moment on the two accomplices +who stood beyond the table, picked out Madame Dompierre lolling on +the sofa on his right, and measured the proportions of the long, +narrow room. They seemed to note the positions of the window at the +one end and the door almost at the other, and even to take into +account the single pendent electric light which up till then had +been the sole illuminant.</p> +<p>“You prefer pencil?” asked Montmorency.</p> +<p>“I generally use it for casual purposes. But not,” +he added, touching the point critically, “like +this.”</p> +<p>Alert for any sign of retaliation, they watched him take an +insignificant penknife from his pocket and begin to trim the +pencil. Was there in his mind any mad impulse to force conclusions +with that puny weapon? Dompierre worked his face into a fiercer +expression and touched reassuringly the handle of his knife. +Montmorency looked on for a moment, then, whistling softly to +himself, turned his back on the table and strolled towards the +window, avoiding Madame Nina’s pursuant eye.</p> +<p>Then, with overwhelming suddenness, it came, and in its form +altogether unexpected.</p> +<p>Carrados had been putting the last strokes to the pencil, +whittling it down upon the table. There had been no hasty movement, +no violent act to give them warning; only the little blade had +pushed itself nearer and nearer to the electric light cord lying +there ... and suddenly and instantly the room was plunged into +absolute darkness.</p> +<p>“To the door, Dom!” shouted Montmorency in a flash. +“I am at the window. Don’t let him pass and we are all +right.”</p> +<p>“I am here,” responded Dompierre from the door.</p> +<p>“He will not attempt to pass,” came the quiet voice +of Carrados from across the room. “You are now all exactly +where I want you. You are both covered. If either moves an inch, I +fire—and remember that I shoot by sound, not +sight.”</p> +<p>“But—but what does it mean?” stammered +Montmorency, above the despairing wail of Madame Dompierre.</p> +<p>“It means that we are now on equal terms—three blind +men in a dark room. The numerical advantage that you possess is +counterbalanced by the fact that you are out of your +element—I am in mine.”</p> +<p>“Dom,” whispered Montmorency across the dark space, +“strike a match. I have none.”</p> +<p>“I would not, Dompierre, if I were you,” advised +Carrados, with a short laugh. “It might be dangerous.” +At once his voice seemed to leap into a passion. “Drop that +matchbox,” he cried. “You are standing on the brink of +your grave, you fool! Drop it, I say; let me hear it +fall.”</p> +<p>A breath of thought—almost too short to call a +pause—then a little thud of surrender sounded from the carpet +by the door. The two conspirators seemed to hold their breath.</p> +<p>“That is right.” The placid voice once more resumed +its sway. “Why cannot things be agreeable? I hate to have to +shout, but you seem far from grasping the situation yet. Remember +that I do not take the slightest risk. Also please remember, Mr +Montmorency, that the action even of a hair-trigger automatic +scrapes slightly as it comes up. I remind you of that for your own +good, because if you are so ill-advised as to think of trying to +pot me in the dark, that noise gives me a fifth of a second start +of you. Do you by any chance know Zinghi’s in Mercer +Street?”</p> +<p>“The shooting gallery?” asked Mr Montmorency a +little sulkily.</p> +<p>“The same. If you happen to come through this alive and +are interested you might ask Zinghi to show you a target of mine +that he keeps. Seven shots at twenty yards, the target indicated by +four watches, none of them so loud as the one you are wearing. He +keeps it as a curiosity.”</p> +<p>“I wear no watch,” muttered Dompierre, expressing +his thought aloud.</p> +<p>“No, Monsieur Dompierre, but you wear a heart, and that +not on your sleeve,” said Carrados. “Just now it is +quite as loud as Mr Montmorency’s watch. It is more central +too—I shall not have to allow any margin. That is right; +breathe naturally”—for the unhappy Dompierre had given +a gasp of apprehension. “It does not make any difference to +me, and after a time holding one’s breath becomes really +painful.”</p> +<p>“Monsieur,” declared Dompierre earnestly, +“there was no intention of submitting you to injury, I swear. +This Englishman did but speak within his hat. At the most extreme +you would have been but bound and gagged. Take care: killing is a +dangerous game.”</p> +<p>“For you—not for me,” was the bland rejoinder. +“If you kill me you will be hanged for it. If I kill you I +shall be honourably acquitted. You can imagine the scene—the +sympathetic court—the recital of your villainies—the +story of my indignities. Then with stumbling feet and groping hands +the helpless blind man is led forward to give evidence. Sensation! +No, no, it isn’t really fair but I can kill you both with +absolute certainty and Providence will be saddled with all the +responsibility. Please don’t fidget with your feet, Monsieur +Dompierre. I know that you aren’t moving but one is liable to +make mistakes.”</p> +<p>“Before I die,” said Montmorency—and for some +reason laughed unconvincingly in the dark—“before I +die, Mr Carrados, I should really like to know what has happened to +the light. That, surely, isn’t Providence?”</p> +<p>“Would it be ungenerous to suggest that you are trying to +gain time? You ought to know what has happened. But as it may +satisfy you that I have nothing to fear from delay, I don’t +mind telling you. In my hand was a sharp knife—contemptible, +you were satisfied, as a weapon; beneath my nose the +‘flex’ of the electric lamp. It was only necessary for +me to draw the one across the other and the system was +short-circuited. Every lamp on that fuse is cut off and in the +distributing-box in the hall you will find a burned-out wire. You, +perhaps—but Monsieur Dompierre’s experience in plating +ought to have put him up to simple electricity.”</p> +<p>“How did you know that there is a distributing-box in the +hall?” asked Dompierre, with dull resentment.</p> +<p>“My dear Dompierre, why beat the air with futile +questions?” replied Max Carrados. “What does it matter? +Have it in the cellar if you like.”</p> +<p>“True,” interposed Montmorency. “The only +thing that need concern us now——”</p> +<p>“But it is in the hall—nine feet high,” +muttered Dompierre in bitterness. “Yet he, this blind +man——”</p> +<p>“The only thing that need concern us,” repeated the +Englishman, severely ignoring the interruption, “is what you +intend doing in the end, Mr Carrados?”</p> +<p>“The end is a little difficult to foresee,” was the +admission. “So far, I am all for maintaining the <i>status +quo</i>. Will the first grey light of morning find us still in this +impasse? No, for between us we have condemned the room to eternal +darkness. Probably about daybreak Dompierre will drop off to sleep +and roll against the door. I, unfortunately mistaking his +intention, will send a bullet through——Pardon, Madame, +I should have remembered—but pray don’t +move.”</p> +<p>“I protest, Monsieur——”</p> +<p>“Don’t protest; just sit still. Very likely it will +be Mr Montmorency who will fall off to sleep the first after +all.”</p> +<p>“Then we will anticipate that difficulty,” said the +one in question, speaking with renewed decision. “We will +play the last hand with our cards upon the table if you like. Nina, +Mr Carrados will not injure you whatever happens—be sure of +that. When the moment comes you will rise——”</p> +<p>“One word,” put in Carrados with determination. +“My position is precarious and I take no risks. As you say, I +cannot injure Madame Dompierre, and you two men are therefore my +hostages for her good behaviour. If she rises from the couch you, +Dompierre, fall. If she advances another step Mr Montmorency +follows you.”</p> +<p>“Do nothing rash, <i>carissima</i>,” urged her +husband, with passionate solicitude. “You might get hit in +place of me. We will yet find a better way.”</p> +<p>“You dare not, Mr Carrados!” flung out Montmorency, +for the first time beginning to show signs of wear in this duel of +the temper. “He dare not, Dompierre. In cold blood and +unprovoked! No jury would acquit you!”</p> +<p>“Another who fails to do you justice, Madame Nina,” +said the blind man, with ironic gallantry. “The action might +be a little high-handed, one admits, but when you, appropriately +clothed and in your right complexion, stepped into the witness-box +and I said: ‘Gentlemen of the jury, what is my crime? That I +made Madame Dompierre a widow!’ can you doubt their gratitude +and my acquittal? Truly my countrymen are not all bats or monks, +Madame.” Dompierre was breathing with perfect freedom now, +while from the couch came the sounds of stifled emotion, but +whether the lady was involved in a paroxysm of sobs or of laughter +it might be difficult to swear.</p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<p>It was perhaps an hour after the flourish of the introduction +with which Madame Dompierre had closed the door of the trap upon +the blind man’s entrance.</p> +<p>The minutes had passed but the situation remained unchanged, +though the ingenuity of certainly two of the occupants of the room +had been tormented into shreds to discover a means of turning it to +their advantage. So far the terrible omniscience of the blind man +in the dark and the respect for his markmanship with which his +coolness had inspired them, dominated the group. But one strong +card yet remained to be played, and at last the moment came upon +which the conspirators had pinned their despairing hopes.</p> +<p>There was the sound of movement in the hall outside, not the +first about the house, but towards the new complication Carrados +had been strangely unobservant. True, Montmorency had talked rather +loudly, to carry over the dangerous moments. But now there came an +unmistakable step and to the accomplices it could only mean one +thing. Montmorency was ready on the instant.</p> +<p>“Down, Dom!” he cried, “throw yourself down! +Break in, Guido. Break in the door. We are held up!”</p> +<p>There was an immediate response. The door, under the pressure of +a human battering-ram, burst open with a crash. On the threshold +the intruders—four or five in number—stopped starkly +for a moment, held in astonishment by the extraordinary scene that +the light from the hall, and of their own bull’s-eyes, +revealed.</p> +<p>Flat on their faces, to present the least possible surface to +Carrados’s aim, Dompierre and Montmorency lay extended beside +the window and behind the door. On the couch, with her head buried +beneath the cushions, Madame Dompierre sought to shut out the sight +and sound of violence. Carrados—Carrados had not moved, but +with arms resting on the table and fingers placidly locked together +he smiled benignly on the new arrivals. His attitude, compared with +the extravagance of those around him, gave the impression of a +complacent modern deity presiding over some grotesque ceremonial of +pagan worship.</p> +<p>“So, Inspector, you could not wait for me, after +all?” was his greeting.</p> +<p class="printersnote">THE RIVERSIDE PRESS LIMITED, EDINBURGH</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE</h4> +<p>Minor punctuation errors have been repaired. An inconsistency +in the spelling of Messina/Messana (pages 269 and 274) has been +retained.</p> +<p>The following amendments have been made:</p> +<ul> +<li>Page 250—Carados amended to Carrados—““True,?” agreed Carrados.?”</li> +<li>Page 251—urning amended to turning—“They walked through the +house, and turning to the right ...?”</li> +</ul> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Max Carrados, by Ernest Bramah + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAX CARRADOS *** + +***** This file should be named 34732-h.htm or 34732-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/7/3/34732/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Megan Miller and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +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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