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diff --git a/old/55115-0.txt b/old/55115-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index feab80e..0000000 --- a/old/55115-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8702 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The City Of Pleasure, by Arnold Bennett - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The City Of Pleasure - A Fantasia on Modern Themes - -Author: Arnold Bennett - -Release Date: July 15, 2017 [EBook #55115] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CITY OF PLEASURE *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - -THE CITY OF PLEASURE - -A Fantasia on Modern Themes - -By Arnold Bennett - -Author Of “The Old Wives’ Tale,” “Clayhanger,” “The Old Adam,” Etc. - -New York: George H. Doran Company - -1907 - - - -[Illustration: 0001] - - -[Illustration: 0007] - - - - -THE CITY OF PLEASURE - - - - -PART I--CARPENTARIA - - - - -CHAPTER I--Over the City - - -Carpentaria! - -One of the three richly-uniformed officials who were in charge of the -captive balloon, destined to be a leading attraction of the City of -Pleasure, murmured this name warningly to his companions, as if to -advise them that the moment had arrived for them to mind their p’s and -q’s. And each man looked cautiously through the tail of his eye at a -striking figure which was approaching through crowds of people to the -enclosure. The figure was tall and had red hair and a masterful -face, and it was clothed in a blue suit that set off the red hair to -perfection. Over the wicket of the enclosure a small enamelled sign had -been hung: - -“CITY OF PLEASURE. - -“_President_: Josephus Ilam. - -“_Managing and Musical Director_: Charles Carpentaria. - -“_Balloon Ascents every half-hour after three o’clock. Height of a -thousand feet guaranteed. Seats, half-a-crown, including field-glass_.” - -The sign was slightly askew, and the approaching figure tapped it into -position, and then entered the enclosure. - -“Good afternoon,” it said. “Everything ready?” - -“’d afternoon, Mr. Carpentaria,” said the head balloonist -respectfully. “Yes, sir.” - -The three men with considerable ostentation busied themselves among -ropes, while a young man in gold-rimmed spectacles gazed with sudden -self-consciousness into the far distance, just as if he had that very -instant discovered something there that demanded the whole of his -attention. - -“Going up, sir?” inquired the head balloonist. - -“Yes,” replied Carpentaria. “Mr. Ilam and I are going up together. We -have time, haven’t we? It’s only half-past two.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -Carpentaria examined the vast balloon, which was trembling and swaying -and lugging with that aspiration towards heaven and the infinite so -characteristic of well-filled balloons. He ignored the young man in -spectacles. - -“Where’s the parachutist?” Carpentaria demanded. - -A parachutist was to give éclat to the first public ascent of the silken -monster by dropping from it into the Thames or somewhere else. His -apparatus hung beneath the great circular car. - -“He’ll be here before three, sir,” said the head balloonist. - -“He’s been here once, sir,” added the second balloonist, anxious to -prove to himself that he also had the right to converse with the mighty -Carpentaria. - -A few seconds later the august President arrived. Mr. Josephus Ilam was -tall, like his partner, but much stouter. He had, indeed, almost the -inflated appearance which one observes constantly in the drivers of -brewers’ drays; even his fingers bulged. His age was fifty, ten years -more than that of Carpentaria, and it was probably ten years since he -had seen his own feet. Finally, he was clean-shaven, with areas of -blue on his chin and cheeks like the sea on a map, and his hair--what -remained of it--seemed to be hesitating between black and grey. - -“What’s the matter?” he asked of Carpentaria. - -“Oh, I thought I would just like to make the first ascent with you -alone,” Carpentaria answered, and added, smiling, “I have something to -show you up there.” - -His hand indicated the firmament, and his peculiar smile indicated that -he took Ilam’s consent for granted. - -Ilam sighed obesely, and agreed. He did not care to argue before members -of the staff. Nevertheless, the futility of ascending to the skies on -this, the opening day, when the colossal organism of the show cried -aloud for continual supervision on earth, was sufficiently clear to his -mind. He climbed gingerly over the edge of the wickerwork car, which had -a circumference of thirty feet, with a protected aperture in the middle, -and Carpentaria followed him. - -“Let go,” said Carpentaria, gleefully. “Let go!” he repeated with -impatience, when the balloon was arrested at a height of about ten feet. - -“Right sir,” responded briskly the head balloonist. There appeared to -have been some altercation between the balloonists. - -The day was the first of May, but the London spring had chosen to be -capricious and unseasonable. Instead of the snow and frost and east wind -which almost invariably accompany what is termed, with ferocious irony, -the merry month, there was strong, brilliant sunshine and a perfect -calm. The sun glinted and glittered on the upper surfaces of the -balloon, but of course the voyagers could not perceive that. They, -in fact, perceived nothing except that the entire world was gradually -falling away from them. The balloon had ceased to shiver; it stood -as firm as consols, while the City of Pleasure sank and sank, and the -upturned faces of more than fifty thousand spectators grew tinier and -tinier. - -It would be interesting and certainly instructive to unfold some of the -many mysteries and minor dramas which had diversified the history of the -making of the City of Pleasure, from the time when Carpentaria, having -conceived the idea of the thing, found the necessary millionaire in -the person of Josephus Ilam, to the hurried and tumultuous eve of the -opening day; but these are unconnected with the present recital. It -needs only to remind the reader of the City’s geography. Towards the -lower left-hand corner of any map of London not later than 1905, may be -observed a large, nearly empty space in the form of an inverted letter -“U.” This space is bounded everywhere, except across the bottom, by the -Thames. It is indeed a peninsula made by an extraordinary curve of the -Thames, and Barnes Common connects if with the mainland of the parish of -Putney. Its dimensions are little short of a mile either way, and yet, -although Hammersmith Bridge joins it to Hammersmith at the top, it was -almost uninhabited, save for the houses which lined Bridge Road and -a scattering of houses in Lonsdale Road and the short streets between -Lonsdale Road and the reservoir near the bridge. The contrast was -violent; on the north side of the Thames the crowded populousness of -Hammersmith, and on the south side--well, possibly four people to the -acre. - -Ilam and Carpentaria, with Ilam’s money, bought or leased the whole -of the middle part of the peninsula--over three hundred acres--with a -glorious half-mile frontage to the Thames on the east side. They would -have acquired all the earth as far as Barnes Common but for the fact -that the monomaniacs of the Ranelagh Club Golf Course could not be -induced to part with their links, even when offered a fantastic number -of thousand pounds per hole. They obtained the closing of the Bridge -Road, which cut the peninsula downwards into two halves, and the -omnibus traffic between Hammersmith and Barnes was diverted to Lonsdale -Road--not without terrific diplomacy, and pitched battles in the columns -of newspapers and in Local Government offices. They pulled down every -house in Bridge Road, thus breaking up some seventy presumably happy -English homes, and then they started upon the erection of the City of -Pleasure, which they intended to be, and which all the world now admits -to be, the most gigantic enterprise of amusement that Europe has ever -seen. - -As the balloon rose the general conformation of the City of Pleasure -became visible. Running almost north and south from Hammersmith Bridge -was the Central Way, the splendid private thoroughfare which had -superseded Bridge Road. It was a hundred feet wide, and its surface -was treated with westrumite, and a service of gaily coloured cable-cars -flashed along it in either direction, between the north and the south -entrances to the City. It was lined with multifarious buildings, all -painted cream--the theatre, the variety theatre, the concert hall, the -circus, the panorama, the lecture hall, the menagerie, the art gallery, -the story-tellers’ hall, the dancing-rooms, restaurants, cafés and bars, -and those numerous shops for the sale of useless and expensive souvenirs -without which the happiness of no Briton on a holiday is complete. -The footpaths, 20 feet wide, were roofed with glass, and between -the footpaths and the roadway came two rows of trees which were -industriously taking advantage of the weather to put forth their -verdure. Footpaths and road were thronged with people, and the street -was made gay, not only by the toilettes and sunshades of women, but -also by processions of elephants, camels, and other wild-fowl, bearing -children of all ages in charge of gorgeous Indians and Ethiops. From -every roof floated great crimson flags with the legend in gold: “City of -Pleasure. President: Ilam; Director: Carpentaria.” Add to this combined -effect the music of bands and the sunshine, and do not forget the virgin -creaminess of the elaborate architecture, and you will be able to form -a notion of the spectacle offered by the esplanade upon which Ilam and -Carpentaria looked down. - -Midway between the north and south entrances, the Central Way expanded -itself into a circular place, with a twenty-jetted bronze fountain in -the middle. To the west was the façade of what was called the Exposition -Palace, an enormous quadrangular building, containing a huge covered -court which, with its balconies, would hold twenty thousand people on -wet days. The galleries of the palace were devoted to an exhibition of -everything that related to woman, from high-heeled shoes to thrones; -it was astonishing how many things did relate to woman. North of the -Exposition Palace stretched out the Amusements Park, where people looped -the loop, shot the chute, wheeled the wheel, switched the switchback, -etc.; and here was the balloon enclosure. South of the palace lay the -Sports Fields, where a cricket match was progressing. - -Finally, and most important of all, to the east of the circular place -in Central Way rose the impressive entrance to the Oriental Gardens, the -pride of Ilam and Carpentaria. The Oriental Gardens occupied the entire -eastern side of the City, and they sloped down to the Thames. They -formed over a hundred acres of gardens, wood, and pleasaunce, laid out -with formal magnificence. Flowers bloomed there in defiance of seasons. -On every hand the eye was met by vistas of trees and shrubs, and -by lawns and statues, and lakes and fountains. In the middle was -Carpentaria’s own special bandstand. A terrace, two thousand five. -hundred feet long, bordered the river, and from the terrace jutted out a -pier at which steamers were unloading visitors. - - - - -CHAPTER II--Interviewed - -The occupants of the balloon could see everything. They saw the -debarcation from the steamers; they saw the unending crowd of doll-like -persons thrown up out of the ground by the new Tube station at the -south end of Hammersmith Bridge; they saw the heavy persistent stream -of vehicles and pedestrians over the bridge; they saw the trains -approaching Barnes on the South-Western Railway; they saw the struggles -for admittance at all the gates of the City; they even saw flocks of -people streaming Cityward along the Barnes High Street and the Lower -Richmond Road. It was not for nothing that advertisements of the City of -Pleasure had filled one solid page of every daily paper in London, and -many in the provinces, for a week past. Visitors were now entering the -city at the rate of seventy thousand an hour, at a shilling a head. - -There was a gentle tug beneath the car. The thousand feet of rope had -been paid out, and the balloon hung motionless. - -Then a faint noise, something between the crackling of musketry and the -surge of waves on a pebbly beach, ascended from the city. - -“They’re cheering,” said Josephus Ilam. “What for?” - -“Cheering us, of course,” answered Carpentaria excitedly. “Isn’t it -immense?” - -“Immense?” said Ilam heavily. “It’s hot. What did you want to show me up -here?” - -“That!” exclaimed Carpentaria, pointing below to the city with a superb -gesture. “And that!” he added passionately, pointing with another -gesture to the whole of London, which lay spread out with all its towers -and steeples and its blanket of smoke, tremendous and interminable to -the east. “That is our prey,” he said, “our food.” - -And he began to sing the Toreador song from “Carmen,” exultantly -launching the notes into the sky. - -“Mr. Carpentaria,” said Josephus Ilam, with unexpected bitterness, “is -this your idea of a joke? Bringing me up here to see London and our -show, as if I didn’t know London and our show like my pocket!” - -Ilam’s concealed, hatred of Carpentaria, which had been slowly growing -for more than a year, as a fire spreads secretly in the hold of a ship, -seemed to spurt out a swift tongue of flame in the acrimony of his tone. -Carpentaria was startled. Even then, in a sudden flash of illumination, -he grasped to a certain extent the import of Ilam’s attitude towards -him, but he did not grasp it fully. How should he? - -“Why,” he said to himself, “I believe the old johnny dislikes mel What -on earth for?” He could not understand all Ilam’s reasons. “Pity!” he -reflected further. “If the managers of a show like this can’t hit it off -together, there may be trouble.” - -In which supposition he was infinitely more right than he imagined. - -He balanced himself lightly on the edge of the car, his left leg -dangling, and seized one of the field-glasses which hung secured by thin -steel chains round the inside of the wicker parapet, and putting it -to his eyes, he gazed down at the Oriental Gardens. He must have seen -something there that profoundly interested him, for the glasses remained -glued to his eyes for a long time. - -“I repeat,” said Ilam firmly, standing up, “is this your idea of a -joke?” - -He was close to Carpentaria, and his glance was vicious. - -“My friend,” murmured Carpentaria, dropping the glasses. “What’s the -matter with you is that you aren’t an artist, not a bit of one. You are -an excellent fellow, with a splendid head for figures, and I respect -you enormously, but you haven’t the artistic sense. If you had you would -share the thrill which I feel as I survey our creation and that London -over there. You would appreciate why I brought you up here.” - -“I’m a business man--a plain business man, that’s what I am,” said Ilam. -“I’ve never pretended to be an artist, and I don’t want to be an artist. -Let me tell you that I ought to be in the advertisement department, and -not canoodling my time away up here, Mr. Carpentaria.” - -“My dear sir,” said Carpentaria hastily, “accept my apologies. Let us -descend at once.” - -“And while I’m about it,” pursued Ilam unheedingly--his irritation was -like a stone rolling down a hill--“while I’m about it, I’ll point -out that your objection to having advertisements on the walls of the -restaurants is fatuous.” - -“But, my dear Ilam,” Carpentaria protested, “people don’t care to have -to read advertisements while they’re at their meals. It puts them off. -For instance, to have it dinned into you that G. H. Mumm is the only -champagne worth drinking when you happen to be drinking Heidsieck, or to -have Wall’s sausages thrust down your throat while you are toying with -an ice-cream--people don’t like it. We must think of our patrons. And, -besides, it’s so inarti----” - -“Rubbish!” said Ilam. “One way and another these ads. would be worth a -hundred’ a week to us.” - -“Well, and what’s a hundred a week?” - -“It’s the interest on a hundred and twenty thousand pounds,” Ilam -replied vivaciously. “And there’s another thing. It would be much -better if you employed more time in inspection instead of rehearsing and -conducting your precious band. Any fool can conduct a band. Give me a -stick and I’d do it myself. But inspection------” - -“My precious band!” stammered Carpentaria, aghast. - -His very soul was laid low; and considering that Carpentaria’s Band had -been famous in the capitals of two continents for twelve years at least, -it was not surprising that his soul should be laid low by this terrible -phrase. - -“Yes,” said Ilam, “I’ve had enough of it.” His shoulder touched -Carpentaria’s, and his eyes--little, like a pig’s--shot arrows of light. -“Supposing I shoved you over? I should have the concern to myself then, -and no foolish interference.” - -He twisted his face into a grim laugh. - -“You have a sense of humour, after all, Ilam,” responded gaily the man -on the edge of the car, fingering his long red moustache, and he, too, -laughed, but he got down from his perch. - -“I’d just like you to comprehend----” Ilam began again. - -But at that instant a head appeared above the edge of the central -aperture of the car, and Ilam stopped. - -It was the head of the young man in spectacles--gold-rimmed spectacles. - -“I’m Smithers, of the _Morning Herald_,” said the young man brightly and -calmly, “and I took this opportunity of seeing you privately. Your men -objected when I got into the parachute attachment, but you told ‘em to -let go, and so they let go. I’ve had some difficulty in climbing up here -off the parachute bar. Dangerous, rather. However, I’ve done it. I dare -say you heard the crowd cheering.” - -“So it was him they were cheering,” muttered Ilam, and then looked at -Carpentaria. - -Ilam was not a genius in the art of conversation. He could only say what -he meant, and when the running of the City of Pleasure demanded the art -of conversation he relied on Carpentaria, even if he was furious with -him. - -“What’s the game?” asked Carpentaria. - -“Well,” said Smithers politely, “don’t you think I deserve an -interview?” - -“You know we have absolutely declined all interviews.” - -“Yes, that’s why the _Herald_ wants one so badly; that’s why I’m -dangling a thousand feet above my grave.” - -Carpentaria and Ilam exchanged glances. Each read the thought of -the other--that the spectacled Smithers might have overheard their -conversation, and should therefore be handled with care, this side up. -“Leave it to me,” said the eyes of Carpentaria to the eyes of Ilam. - -“Mr. Smithers, of the _Herald_”--Carpentaria blossomed into the flowers -of speech--“we heartily applaud your courage and your devotion to duty -in a profession full of perils, but you are trespassing.” - -“Excuse me, I’m not,” said Smithers. “You can only trespass on land and -water, and this isn’t a salmon river or a forbidden footpath. Besides, -I’ve got my press season-ticket. Come now, talk to me.” - -“We are talking to you.” - -“I mean, answer my questions, for the benefit of humanity. I’m the -father of a family with two penniless aunts, and the _Herald_ will -probably sack me if I fail in this interview. Think of that.” - -“I prefer not to think of it,” said Carpentaria. “However, we -will answer any reasonable questions you care to put to us, on one -condition.” - -“Name it,” snapped Smithers. - -“I will name it afterwards,” said Carpentaria, looking at Ilam. - -“All right,” sighed Smithers, “I agree, whatever it is.” - -“You look like an honourable man. I shall trust you,” Carpentaria -remarked. - -“Journalists are always honourable,” said Smithers. “It is their -employers who sometimes--however, that’s neither here nor there. You may -trust me. Now tell me. Why this objection to interviews? That’s what’s -puzzling the public. You’re a business concern, aren’t you?” - -“That’s just the reason,” said Carpentaria. “We aren’t a star-actor or a -bogus company. We’re above interviews, we are. Do you catch Smith and -Son, or Cook’s, or the North-Western Railway, or Mrs. Humphry Ward -having themselves interviewed?” - -“Not much,” ejaculated Ilam glumly. - -“People who refuse to be interviewed have a status that other people -can never have. Our business is our business. When we want the public to -know anything, we take a page in the _Herald_, say, and pay two hundred -and fifty pounds for it, and inform the public exactly what we do want -’em to know, in our own words. We do not require the assistance of -interviewers. There’s the whole secret. What next?” - -“That seems pretty straight,” Smithers agreed. “Another thing. Why have -you gone and called this concern the City of Pleasure?” - -“Because it is the City of Pleasure,” growled Ilam. - -“Yes. But it seems rather a fancy name, doesn’t it?--rather too -poetical, highfalutin?” - -“That’s merely because you journalists never have any imagination,” - Carpentaria explained. “You aren’t used to this name yet. It was you -journalists who cried out that the Crystal Palace was a too poetical and -highfalutin name for that glass wigwam over there”--and he pointed to -the twin towers of Sydenham in the distance--“but you’ve got used to it, -and you admit now that it is the Crystal Palace and couldn’t be anything -else.” - -Smithers laughed. - -“Good!” said he. “All that’s nothing. Let me come to the core of the -apple. Do you expect this thing to pay? Do you really mean it to pay, or -is it only a millionaire’s lark? You know all the experts are saying it -can’t pay.” - -“Can’t it?” ejaculated Ilam. - -“We shall take fifteen thousand pounds at the gates to-day,” said -Carpentaria. “The highest attendance in any one day at the Paris -Exhibition of 1900 was six hundred thousand. Do you imagine we can’t -equal that? We shall surpass it, sir. Wait for our August fêtes. Wait -for our Congress of Trade Unions in September, and you will see! The -average total attendance at the last three Paris exhibitions has been -forty-five millions. We hope to reach fifty millions. But suppose we -only reach forty millions. That means two million pounds in gates -alone; and let me remind you that the minor activities of this show are -self-supporting. Why, the Chicago Exhibition made a profit of nearly a -million and a half dollars. Do you suppose we can’t beat that, with a -city of six million people at our doors, and the millions of Lancashire -and Yorkshire within four hours of us?” - -“But Chicago was State-aided,” Mr. Smithers ventured. - -“State-aided!” cried Ilam. “Chicago was the worst-managed show in the -history of shows, except St. Louis. If the State came to me I should--I -should----” - -“Offer it a penny to go away and play in the next street.” Carpentaria -finished his sentence for him. - -“You interest me extremely,” said the journalist. “And now, as to the -number of your employés.” - -He chuckled to himself with glee at the splendid interview he was -getting out of Carpentaria and Ilam as they obligingly responded to his -queries. It was Ilam who at last revolted, and insisted that he must -descend. - -“Now for my condition,” said Carpentaria. - -“Let’s have it,” said the journalist. - -“You asked us to talk to you and we have talked to you. The condition -is that you regard all you have heard up here as strictly -confidential--mind, all! You tell no one; you print nothing..Remember, -you are an honourable man.” - -“But this is farcical,” Smithers expostulated. - -“Not at all,” said Carpentaria sweetly. “Do you imagine that because you -have an inordinate amount of cheek, a family and two penniless aunts, we -are going to break the habits of a life-time? For myself, I have never -been interviewed.” - -“Is this your last word?” the journalist demanded. - -“It is,” said Carpentaria. - -“Very well,” said the journalist, and his head disappeared. - -“Let us descend,” said Ilam, savagely pleased. And he waved the descent -flag. - -“We shan’t descend just yet,” the journalist informed them, popping up -his head again. - -“And pray, why not?” - -“Because I’ve cut the rope.” - -Carpentaria, always calm when art was not concerned, tore a fragment -of paper from an envelope in his pocket and threw it out of the car. It -sank away rapidly from the balloon. Moreover, it was evident, even to -the eye, that their distance from the earth was vastly increasing. - -“I withdraw my promise now this moment,” said the journalist, climbing -carefully into the car. “Everything that you say henceforward will -be printed. We shall have quite an exciting trip. We may even get to -France. Anyhow, I shall have a clinking column for Monday’s _Herald_. -You evidently hadn’t quite appreciated what the new journalism is.” - -Then there was silence in the mounting balloon. - -Ilam bent his malevolent eyes longingly upon the disappearing scene -below. The glory of the sunshine was nothing to him. He wanted to be in -the advertisement department, arranging future contracts for spaces on -the programmes. He reflected that it was another of the mad caprices of -Carpentaria that had got him into this grotesque scrape. And he was -so angry that he forgot even to think of the danger to which he was -exposed. - -“So here we are!” said the journalist. “And you can’t do anything!” - - - - -CHAPTER III--Inspiration - -Permit me to say, Mr. Smithers,” Carpentaria remarked at last, “that -your knavery is futile. The resources of civilization are not yet -exhausted. We are, in fact, already descending.” - -He held tightly in his hand the end of a rope, which reached up high -above them and was lost in the mass of cordage. He had opened the valve -to its widest. - -“Don’t venture to move,” he added, “or Mr. Ilam will break your head for -you. This affair will cost us nothing but a few thousand cubic feet of -gas at a half-a-crown a thousand. What it will cost you, I shall have to -consider.” - -And without saying anything further for the moment, he unloosed a very -thin cable that was wound round a windlass in the car itself, and, tying -a white flag at the end of it, he began to lower it rapidly over the -edge of the car. - -Thanks to the perfect calm which reigned, the balloon was still well -over the Amusements Park. - -Soon the voyagers could perceive the excited movements of the crowds -below, and then the white flag touched earth, and was seized by the -eager hands of the balloonists, and slowly the balloon, in a condition -bordering on collapse, subsided to the ground with the gentleness of -a fatigued British workman falling asleep. And great cheers, for the -second time that day, filled the air. - -“You might have been sure,” said Carpentaria, when they were ten feet -off safety, “that in a show like this due precautions would be taken -against accidents and idiots!” - -Smithers, nearly as limp as the balloon, made no reply. Josephus Ilam -glared over him. - -“It’s nothing, it’s nothing!” cried Carpentaria to the staff, who -besieged the party with questions. “Fill her up as quick as you can, -attach the rope, and get ready for your public. Don’t bother me!” And he -leapt out of the car and was running, literally running, away, when -Ilam called out: “Hi! wait a minute. What’s to be done with this maniac -here?” And Ilam muttered to himself, “Why does he run away like that? -What’s his next caprice going to be?” - -“I was forgetting,” said Carpentaria, stopping. “Young man”--and he -addressed Smithers severely--“follow me, and no nonsense!” - -Smithers obediently followed, pushing after Carpentaria through the -curious crowds. They came at length to the Central Way, and Carpentaria -halted and took Smithers by the coat collar. - -“Listen!” said he. “We’re much too busy to trouble with police-court -proceedings. And besides, there’s your brace of penniless aunts. Cut! -Clear out! Hook it! I rather admire you. See?” - -Smithers saw, and vanished. - -Carpentaria hastened on, rushing across the Central Way, scarcely -avoiding cable-cars, and so, by a private passage between two shops, -into the Oriental Gardens. Now, just within the Oriental Gardens, on -either side of the grand entrance to them, were two spacious houses, -built in the bungalow style, with enclosed gardens of their own. One -of these was occupied by Josephus Ilam and his mother, and the other by -Carpentaria and his half-sister, Juliette D’Avray. Between the house of -Ilam and the back of the shops in Central Way was one of those -small waste trifles of ground which often get left in planning a vast -exhibition or show. It was skilfully hidden from the view of the public -by wooden palisades, and in this palisading was a door, painted so as -to escape detection. The plot of ground, about three yards by two, was -already being utilized for lumber. Carpentaria entered by the door and -shut it after him. A man--a middle-aged man, in a blue suit of rather -shabby appearance--was seated on some planks. He started up, and then -seemed to sway. - -“What are you doing here?” Carpentaria curtly demanded. - -“Look ’ere,” said the man, swaying towards Carpentaria, “I’m aw -ri’--you’re aw ri’--eh? I’m a gemman. Come here to re’--rest. You leave -me ’lone--I leave you ’lone. Stop, I give you my car’.” - -The man was obviously inebriated and Carpentaria was in no mood to spend -precious minutes in diplomacy with a victim of Bacchus. He departed, -shutting the door, and leaving the victim fumbling with a card-case. He -meant to send some one to eject the man, but he forgot. - -“Say!” cried the drunkard after him, “how ju know I wazz ’ere? Mus’ -been up in a b’loon--I repea’--b’loon.” - -In another moment Carpentaria was in the study of his bungalow, panting. - -“Quick!” he said to Juliette, an extremely natty little woman of thirty -or so. - -He sank into the chair before his desk. Juliette placed some music-paper -in front of him and put a pen in his hand, and he scrawled across -the top of the page “The Balloon Lullaby,” and began to scribble -notes--quavers, crotchets, semibreves, and some other strange -wonders--all over the page. - -“It came to me all of a sudden,” he murmured, “while we were up in the -balloon.” - -“Don’t talk, dear,” said Juliette. “Write.” - -And he wrote. - -When it was finished Carpentaria wiped his brow and drank a whisky and -milk which Juliette had prepared for him. He sighed with content and -exhaustion. The creative crisis was over. - -“Play it,” he ejaculated. - -And Juliette sat down at the piano near the window overlooking -the magnificent gardens, and played softly the two hundred and -forty-seventh’ _opus_ of Carpentaria. - -“It is lovely,” she said. - -“Yes,” he admitted. “It’s a classy little thing. Came to me just like -that!” He snapped his fingers. - -“Your best ones always do,” Juliette smiled. - -“I’ll have that performed this very night,” he stated. - - - - -CHAPTER IV--Mrs. Ilam - -Somewhat later on the same afternoon, in the drawing-room of the house -opposite, Josephus Ilam was drinking tea with his mother. The aged Mrs. -Ilam, who was very thin and not in the least tall--her son would have -made a dozen of her--sat tremendously upright in her chair, while -Josephus lolled his great bulk in angry attitudes on a sofa, near which -the tea-table had been placed. Mrs. Ilam wore widow’s weeds, though it -was many years since she had lost her husband, a man who had made a vast -fortune out of soda-water--in the days when soda-water _was_ soda-water. -She had a narrow, hard face, with intensely black eyes, and intensely -white hair, and when she directed those eyes upon her son, it became -instantly plain that her son was at once her idol and her slave. She -lived solely for this man of fifty, who had scarcely ever left her side. -For her this mass of fifteen stone four was still a young child, needing -watchful care and constant advice. Certainly she spoilt him; but, -just as certainly, he went in awe of her. The fact that by judicious -investments in hotel and public-house property he had more than doubled -the fortune which his father left, did not at all improve his standing -with the antique dame; it only made him in her view a clever boy with -financial leanings. Moreover, every penny of the Ilam fortune was -legally hers during her lifetime. Even Ilam’s share in the City of -Pleasure was hers. When Carpentaria had discovered him, he had had to -decide whether or not he should put more than a million pounds into -the enterprise, and it was his mother who decided, who listened to -everything, and then briefly told him that he would be a fool to leave -the thing alone. - -“Well,” she said, in her high quavering voice, as she passed him a -cup of tea--the cup rattled on the saucer in her blue-veined parchment -hand--“so you are not getting on with Carpentaria? I was afraid you -wouldn’t.” - -“He won’t listen to reason about the advertisements,” said Ilam crossly, -stirring his tea. - -“No?” - -“And he’s absolutely mad about his music. He’s spent ten hours in -rehearsing these last two days. All the work, I’ve had to do myself.” - -“Indeed!” - -“And then, to crown his exploits, he takes me up in the balloon, -mother--wastes a solid hour.” - -“In the balloon!” - -Ilam recounted the incident of the balloon. - -“And, after all, he lets that impudent journalist go free--absolutely -free!” - -“Jos,” said his mother, “it’s a wonder you’re alive, my dear.” - -“It’s a pity Carpentaria’s alive,” rejoined Ilam. - -His mother’s burning eyes met his. - -“That’s just what I’ve been thinking,” she piped calmly. - -Her son’s gaze dropped. - -“Since when?” - -“Since you began grumbling about him, last week but one, my pet.” - -“He’s no use now,” Ilam grumbled. “We’ve carried out all his ideas, -and it’s simply a matter of business, and Carpentaria doesn’t know the -meaning of the word ‘business.’ Just think of his argument about those -ads.!” - -“Never mind that, Jos,” Mrs. Ilam put in. - -“He’s only in the way now,” Jos proceeded gloomily. - -“I suppose he wouldn’t retire,” Mrs. Ilam suggested. - -“Retire? Of course he wouldn’t retire--nothing would induce him to -retire. He enjoys it--he enjoys annoying me.” - -“Anyway,” said the mother, “you’ll have the satisfaction of a very great -success.” - -She looked out of the window at the gardens. - -“Yes,” growled Ilam. “And he gets half the profits. I’ve found all the -money, and he hasn’t found a cent. But he gets half the profits. What -for? A few ideas--nothing else. He pretends to direct, but he’ll direct -nothing except his blessed band. And I reckon we shall clear a profit of -ten thousand a week! Half of ten is five.” - -“He only gets half the profits as long as he lives, Jos,” said Mrs. -Ilam. “After that--nothing.” - -“Nothing,” agreed Jos, biting cruelly into a hot scone. “But as long as -he lives he’s costing me, say, five thousand a week, besides worry.” - -“He mayn’t live long,” Mrs. Ilam ventured. “No, but he may live -fifty-years.” - -“Supposing he died very suddenly, Jos,” Mrs. Ilam pursued calmly; -“he wouldn’t be the first person that was inconvenient to you who had -disappeared unexpectedly.” - -“Mother!” Ilam almost shouted, starting up. “But would he?” Mrs. Ilam -persisted. - -“No, he wouldn’t,” muttered Josephus, and his voice trembled. - -Mrs. Ilam blew out the spirit-lamp under the kettle as though she was -blowing out Carpentaria. “I’m off,” said Josephus nervously. - -“Wait a moment, child. Ring the bell for me.” A servant entered. - -“Bring me your master’s knitted waistcoat,” said Mrs. Ilam. - -“But, mother, I shan’t want it.” - -“Yes, you will, Jos. There’s no month more treacherous than May. You’ll -put it on to please me.” - -He obeyed, bent down to kiss his terrible parent, and departed. - -“Think it over,” she called out after him. - -Ilam stopped. - -“And then, what about his sister?” he said. “Don’t mix up two quite -separate things,” Mrs. Ilam responded. “Besides, she isn’t his sister.” - - - - -CHAPTER V--The Band - -That night the City of Pleasure was illuminated. Eighty thousand tiny -electric lamps hanging in festoons from standard to standard lighted -the Central Way alone; the façades of all the places of amusement were -outlined in fire; the shops glittered; and the cable-cars, as they -flashed to and fro, bore the monogram I.C. in electricity on their -foreheads. At eight o’clock the thoroughfare was crowded with visitors, -and the stream of arrivals was stronger than ever. In the superb -restaurants, at all prices (no matter what the price, they were equally -superb in decoration), five thousand diners were finishing five thousand -dinners, their eyes undisturbed by the presence of advertisements on -the walls. The theatre, the music-hall, the circus, the menagerie, the -concerts, and the rest of the entertainments, were filling up. In the -Amusements Park people shot down railways into water, slid down smooth -slopes into mattresses, circled in great wheels, floated in the latest -novelties of merry-go-rounds, ascended in the balloon, and practised all -the other devices for frittering away eternity, just as though night -had not fallen. In the vast court of the Exposition Palace a band was -swelling the strains of the newest waltzes to three storeys of loungers -and sitters at café-tables, while within the interior of the building -men and women wandered about examining the multifarious attractions of -the Woman’s Exhibition. - -But the chief joy was the Oriental Gardens, wherein a multitude of over -fifty thousand persons had gathered together. The Oriental Gardens were -illuminated, but in a different manner from the Central Way. Chinese -lanterns were suspended everywhere in the budding trees, giving the -illusion of magic precocious flowers that had blossomed there in a -single hour, in all the tints of the rainbow and many others entirely -foreign to the rainbow. The bandstand alone was picked out in -electricity. It blazed in the centre of the gardens like a giant’s -crown, and, although yet empty, it formed the main object of attention. -Overhead stretched a dark-blue sky, silvered with stars, and the wind -had a warm and caressing quality which encouraged sightseers to expose -themselves to it to such an extent that the fifteen cafés of the -Oriental Gardens, some sheltered, some quite open, but each a centre -of light and laughter, were every one crowded with guests. The four -thousand chairs surrounding the bandstand were occupied, and also the -six thousand other chairs dispersed in various parts of the gardens. The -murmur of conversation, the rustle of dresses, the tinkle of glasses, -the rumour of uncountable footsteps, rose on the air. The faces of -pretty women could be observed obscurely in the delicious gloom, and -the glowing scarlet of cigars bobbed mysteriously about like aspecies of -restless glow-worm. - -And everybody was conscious of the sensation of the extraordinary and -amazing success of the great show. The evening papers had carried the -news of the wonderful thing to each suburb of London. These papers -gave from hour to hour the number of the persons who had passed the -turnstiles, and calculated the number of tons of shillings that Ilam -and Carpentaria would have to bank on Monday morning. But the principal -thing that struck the evening papers was the complete readiness of the -City of Pleasure. No detail of it was unfinished, and all agreed that -this phenomenon stood unique in the history of the art of amusing -immense crowds. All felt that a new era of amusement enterprise had been -ushered in by Ilam and Carpentaria, that everything was changed, and -that in the future an enlightened and excessively exacting public would -not be satisfied with what had pleased it in the past. And the owners -of the old-fashioned resorts trembled in their shoes, and hated Ilam and -Carpentaria, while the myriad patrons of Ilam and Carpentaria on that -first day flattered themselves that they had personally assisted at the -birth of the grand innovation, and thought how they would say to -their grandchildren: “Yes, I was present at the opening of the City of -Pleasure, and a marvellous affair it was,” and so on, in the manner of -grandparents. - -All were expecting Carpentaria, the lion of the show. - -His band was due to perform from eight o’clock to ten, and special -bills, posted on the sides of the gilded bandstand and in the cafés, -announced: “Carpentaria’s band will play the Balloon Lullaby, the latest -composition of Carpentaria, composed this afternoon.” - -At ten minutes before eight the members of the band, sixty in number, -and clad in the imperial purple uniform, marched in Indian file across -the gardens to the stand. At a distance of ten paces from the end of the -procession came Carpentaria, preceded by a small page bearing his -baton on a cushion of purple velvet. Carpentaria always did things with -overwhelming style and solemnity. Superior persons laughed at the style -and solemnity, but the vast majority did not laugh; they cheered; they -appreciated. Whether they were right or wrong, the indubitable fact -is that these things came naturally to Carpentaria; they were the -expression of his exceedingly theatrical soul, the devices of a man who -believes in himself. - -At eight o’clock precisely Carpentaria faced the fifty thousand from -his bandstand, and, after having bowed elaborately thrice, turned to the -band, and lifted the sacred stick. - -It was a dramatic moment, the real inauguration of the City of Pleasure. - -Cheers and hurrahs rolled in terrific volumes of sound across the -gardens, and they did not cease; and people not acquainted with the fame -and renown of Carpentaria perceived what it was to be a favourite of -capitals, a leading star in the galaxy of stars that the public salutes -and recognizes. - -Carpentaria preserved the immobility of carven stone until the -plaudits had ceased; they lasted for exactly five and a half minutes. -Consequently the concert was exactly five and a half minutes late in -commencing. Carpentaria himself was never late, but his public had a -habit of delaying him. - -Suddenly he brought rown his baton with a surprising shock. The carven -stone had started into life, and “God save the King” was under way. - -Now to see Carpentaria conduct was one of the sights of the world. He -conducted not merely with his hand and eye, but with the whole of his -immortal frame and his uniform. It was said that he was capable of -conducting the Eroica Symphony of Beethoven with his left foot--and who -shall deny it? “God save the King” was child’s play to him. Moreover, -he showed a certain reserve in handling it. He merely conducted it as -though in conducting it he himself were literally saving the King. That -was all. But with what snap, what dash, what _chic_, what splash and -what magnificent presence of mind did he save the King! The applause was -wild and ample. - -The next item was “The City of Pleasure March,” composed by Carpentaria. -Indeed, Carpentaria conducted nothing but national hymns, his own -compositions, and, as a superlative concession, Wagner and Beethoven. -“The City of Pleasure” was in Carpentaria’s finest style, and it was -planned to give him the fullest scope in conducting it. He had already -made it famous in a triumphal tour through the United States in the -previous year. It began with the utmost possible volume of sound. It had -a contagious and infectious lilt to it, and both the lilt and the volume -of sound were continued without the slightest respite during the whole -composition. In the course of this masterpiece Carpentaria performed -physical feats that would have astounded Cinquevalli and the Schaffer -Troupe. In the frenzy of self-expression he all but stood on his head. -The bandstand was too small for him; he needed a planet on which to -circulate. By turns his baton was a sceptre, a pump-handle, a maypole, -a crutch, a drumstick, a flag, a toothpick, a mop, a pendulum, a whip, a -bottle of soothing-syrup, and a scorpion. By turns he whipped, tortured, -encouraged, liberated, imprisoned, mopped up, measured, governed, -diverted, pushed over, pulled back, and turned inside out his band, and -whenever their enthusiasm seemed likely to lead them into indiscretions, -he soothed them with the soothing-syrup. By turns the conducting of the -piece was a march, a campaign, a house on fire, the race for the Derby, -the forging of a hundred-ton gun, a display of fireworks, a mayoral -banquet, and a mother scolding a numerous family. - -It was colossal. - -At the close, as sudden as the shutting of a door, there was a vast -strange silence, and then the applause, as colossal as the piece, broke -out like a conflagration. - -Carpentaria bowed; the entire band bowed; Carpentaria bowed again. -Lastly he indicated a flute-player with his baton, and the flute-player -came forward and shared the glory of Carpentaria. Why a flute-player, no -one could have guessed. Forty flutes could not have been heard in that -terrific concourse of brass and drums. But Carpentaria was Carpentaria. - -“Did any of you hear the sound of a shot?” Carpentaria said in a low -voice to his band. - -“Shot? No, sir. No, sir,” came from a dozen mouths. “Why, sir?” - -“Because a bullet has just grazed my ear. It was in the fourth bar from -the end.” He put his hand to his ear and showed blood on his finger. -“It’s nothing, nothing,” he quieted them. “I shall expect you to behave -as though nothing had occurred, as soldiers in fact.” - -“Certainly, sir,” replied the intrepid band. - -Carpentaria gazed at one of the iron supports of the roof of the -bandstand. In a line with his head the surface of the pillar had been -damaged and dented. He disturbed two trombone-players in order to search -the floor, and in a few seconds he had found a flattened bullet, which -he put in his pocket. - -“Number two,” he said sharply, going to his desk and tapping it. - -Number two was the lullaby. No more striking contrast to the march could -have been found. It was so delicate, so softly stealing, that you -could scarcely hear it; and yet you could hear it--you could hear it -everywhere. Carpentaria drew sweetness out of his band with the gestures -of a conjurer drawing an interminable roll of coloured paper from his -mouth, previously shown to be empty. It was the daintiest thing, swaying -in the air like gossamer. It brought tears to the orbs of mothers, -and made strong men close their eyes. Such was the versatility of -Carpentaria. - -The applause amounted to a furore. - -“I give you my word of honour, ladies and gentlemen,” said Carpentaria, -coming to the rail of the stand and stilling the cheers with a gesture, -“at halfpast three this afternoon not a note of the little piece was -composed.” - -His demeanour gave no sign of agitation. But at the close of the -concert, no more bullets having arrived, he wiped his brow with relief. -Most of the band did the same. - -He walked about on the river terrace for over an hour, calming his -spirit, which had been through so many excitements, artistic and -otherwise, during the afternoon and evening. And he meditated, now on -the bullet, and now on Ilam. He could scarcely realize how nearly he had -escaped quarrelling with Ilam in the balloon; their relations hitherto -had been invariably amicable, at any rate on the surface; and he had -done so much for Ilam; he had put a second fortune in Ilam’s pocket. -The dazzling success of the day of inauguration was the success of -Carpentaria’s ideas. And yet Ilam hated him. He felt that Ilam hated -him. He almost shuddered as he remembered the moment when he had sat on -the dizzy edge of the balloon-car, and Ilam had threatened him, and then -laughed. - -The Oriental Gardens were empty and dark. The gay crowd had departed; -the lights were extinguished. Only the light in Ilam’s drawing-room -shone across the expanse as it had shone through all the evening. -Carpentaria’s own bungalow was dark. He wondered what Juliette was -doing. - -At length he set off home through the gardens. And just as he was -entering his front-door he recollected that he had given no instructions -about the drunken man in the enclosure. He turned back down the steps, -and went into the enclosure and struck a match. The man was lying on the -ground, no doubt asleep. - -“Well, this is a caution!” he muttered. - -A notion occurred to him, one of his fanciful pranks. He picked up the -unconscious man, who held himself stiff and did not even groan, and -carried him, not with too much difficulty--for Carpentaria was extremely -powerful--to the side-door of Ilam’s residence; he placed the form -against the door. Every night for weeks past Ilam had come out by that -door about midnight to take a final stroll of inspection. He felt that -he owed Ilam a grudge. Then he retired into the shadow and waited. - -Presently the door opened, and Ilam fell over the man, as Carpentaria -hoped he would, and picked himself up with oaths and struck a match and -gazed at the form. - -At the same instant a woman’s figure passed Carpentaria in the dark. He -was surprised to recognize Juliette. He touched her. - -“Oh!” she cried softly, starting back. - -“Why do you start like that?” he demanded. - -“You--you--frightened me,” she said. - -He escorted her into their house. When he came out again Ilam was -descending the steps by the side door. Nothing lay near the door. - -“Seen anything of a drunken man?” Carpentaria called out. - -“No,” said Ilam, after a pause. - -“Not near your door?” - -“No. Why?” - -“Oh, nothing. Only I thought I saw one.” - -“Good night,” growled Ilam, but instead of taking the air he returned -abruptly to the house. - - - - -CHAPTER VI--The Black Burden - -Curious! Carpentaria meditated as he retired to his abode. “Having -fallen over a man lying drunk on his steps, why should my friend and -partner, Mr. Josephus Ilam, totally deny that he has seen a drunken man? -With my own eyes I saw him tumble. Now this mishap must have made Mr. -Josephus Ilam angry, because he is just the sort of person who does get -angry upon the provocation of a pure accident. Yet, so far as I could -judge in the gloom, there was no trace of anger in his demeanour when he -answered my question. On the contrary, he appeared to be rather subdued. - -“And further--what has become of my friend the drunken man? The drunken -man must exist somewhere. Is he in Ilam’s house? And, if so, why is he -in Ilam’s house? Neither Josephus nor his mother is precisely a type of -the Good Samaritan. And if he is not in Ilam’s house, has he suddenly -recovered and walked away on his legs unaided? Impossible! I was once -drunk, and I say, impossible. Then, has Josephus carried him somewhere? -And where has he carried him, and why?” - -Carpentaria unlocked his front-door and entered the hall of his -dwelling, and then locked and bolted the door. He was not in the habit -of either locking or bolting his front-door; the idea of so securing -a house which stood in the middle of half a square mile of private -property, well guarded at all its gates, seemed ridiculous. Nevertheless -he did it, and he could have given no reason for doing it. He imagined -that he heard footsteps in the passage leading from the hall to the -kitchen, and he quickly turned on the electric light and looked down the -passage. But there was nothing. He decided that he was very nervous and -impressionable that night. The servants had, doubtless, long since -gone to bed. He extinguished the light and made his way upstairs to his -study, and sat down in his chair--the famous chair in which he composed -his famous melodies. The faint illumination of the May night made the -principal objects in the room vaguely visible. He could discern the pale -square of the framed autograph letter from President McKinley which -hung on the opposite wall. He tried to collect his ideas and think in a -logical sequence. - -Then, again, he fancied that he heard footsteps, and that he saw a dim -form near the door. - -“Who’s that?” he cried sharply. - -“It’s only me,” answered a woman’s voice, and the electricity was at the -same instant switched on. - -Juliette stood there. - -“Why are you sitting in the dark, Carlos?” she demanded. - -Carlos was her pet name for him. - -“I don’t know,” he said lamely. - -“My poor dear,” she smiled, approaching him. “I haven’t said good-night -to you.” - -She put her long and elegant hands on his shoulders, as was her wont -each evening, and kissed him on both cheeks in her French fashion. The -affection between Carlos and his half-French half-sister was real -and profound. He liked her for her Parisian daintiness, and for the -eminently practical qualities which she possessed in common with most -Frenchwomen, and also because she regarded him as a genius. To-night he -thought she was sweeter and more sisterly than ever. - -“Good-night,” she said, and her voice trembled, and a slight humidity -glistened in her eyes. - -“Good-night,” he responded. - -And she tripped off, swinging the perfect skirt of her black -_mousseline_ dress round the edge of the door. - -“She’s mightily excited to-night,” he murmured to himself; and he -reflected, as all men reflect from time to time, that women are strange -and incomprehensible, a device invented by Providence to keep the wit of -man well sharpened by constant employment. - -He passed into his bedroom, and went out on to the wooden balcony of -the bedroom, which commanded a view of Ilam’s side-door. A light showed -through the glass above the door, and Carpentaria noticed at length -that the door was slightly ajar. He stepped back into the bedroom, -extinguished all his own lights, and returned to the balcony to watch. -He determined to watch as long as Ilam’s door remained ajar. He sat down -in a cane chair provided for repose on the balcony, and his one regret -was that the glow of a cigarette or a cigar would betray him. - -He grew calmer. The frenzy into which music always threw him had quite -worn itself away. He was able to think clearly. He did not, however, -think so much upon the incident of the drunken man as upon the incident -of the bullet; and this was perhaps natural. He was astounded now that -he could have remained in the bandstand, so utterly careless of -danger, after the arrival of the bullet. He was astounded, too, at the -sang-froid of his musicians. But, then, their ears had not been grazed, -and his had. He saw that he was at the mercy of any homicidal maniac -who, on a dark night, with a good rifle and a sure aim, chose to secrete -himself in some deserted alley of the vast Oriental Gardens, and shoot -at him during a loud burst of music. And he said: “Well, if I am to die, -I am to die, and there’s an end of it. Assuming that a given man A -has really determined to kill another given man B, and A is obstinate, -nothing will ultimately save B. I am B. Hence I must be philosophical.” - -But who was A? - -He thought of all the enemies he had made, all the rivals he had -defeated, but the process of their enumeration was perfunctory. For out -of the depths of his mind rose persistently one name, again, and again, -and again, and yet again, like a succession of bubbles, all alike, -rising to the surface of a pond and breaking there. And that name was -the name of Ilam. He forbade the name to rise, but it rose. With the -simplicity which marked some of his mental processes, he could not -understand why Ilam should hate him murderously. But the episode of the -balloon had magically and terribly cast a new and searching light on the -recesses of Ham’s character. He felt that hitherto he had been mistaken -in Ilam, and that Ilam was not a person with whom it was wise to have -interests in common. And the unknown designs of Ilam seemed to surround -him in the night like the web of a gigantic spider, and to bind him -tighter and tighter. - -Then his reflections were interrupted by a sound somewhere below the -balcony. - -It was the sound of his own side-door being very cautiously opened. He -could hear it perfectly clearly in the still night; but whether the door -was being opened from the outside or the inside he could not tell. He -remembered that, though he had bolted and locked the front-door, he had -utterly forgotten the side-door. He leaned over the balcony as far as -he dared, but even so he could catch no glimpse of anything in the -obscurity beneath. - -And then there were steps on the gravel, and he saw a white blur moving -on the top of a dark mass. In another moment he perceived that the -apparition was Juliette, with a white shawl wrapped round her head. What -was she doing there, and why had she opened the door so cautiously? Had -she some secret? He decided to watch her. She moved to the middle of the -avenue between the two houses and hesitated. And then the great clock in -the tower of the Exposition Palace tolled the hour of twelve solemnly, -as it were warningly, over the immense extent of the sleeping City of -Pleasure. - -The appeal of the clock seemed to Carpentaria to be almost dramatic. He -felt strongly that he could not spy upon Juliette, that he could not be -disloyal to this affectionate companion of his life, and honourably he -called out to her: - -“Juliette, what are you doing?” - -His own voice startled him. It was so clear and penetrative in the -gloom. - -There was a slight pause. Then Juliette replied: “Carlos, you seem bent -on frightening me tonight. I thought you were in bed and asleep. You’ll -take cold on that balcony. I only came out to get a little air.” - -The notion struck him that her head was turned directly to Ham’s house, -and yet she made no comment on the light there and the door ajar. - -“Go in, there’s a good girl,” said Carpentaria. “It’s you who’ll be -taking cold.” - -“I’m going in,” she answered. - -And she went in. - -He had yet another alarm. Something moved on the balcony itself, near a -row of flower-pots. Then he felt a pressure against his leg. - -“Ah, Beppo!” he whispered, suddenly relieved, smiling at his nervous -timidity. A great Angora cat leaped on to his knees, and began clawing -at the superb pile of his purple trousers. He stroked the animal, and -Beppo purred with a volume of sound equal to that of many sawmills. -“Don’t purr so loud, Bep,” he advised the cat; but the cat, under the -impression that it was the centre of importance in the best of all -possible worlds, purred with undiminished vigour. - -Five minutes, ten minutes, a quarter of an hour passed so, and then -Carpentaria heard heavy footsteps in the avenue from the direction of -the Central Way. He jumped up, shattering the illusions of Beppo, and -listened intently. A man presently appeared, walking slowly. He wondered -who it could be; but when the figure paused at Ilam’s steps, mounted -them, and pushed open the unlatched door, he saw that it was Ilam -himself, and that Ilam was holding in his arms a bundle of what looked -like black cloth. The vision of him was but transient, for Ilam -closed the door at once. Ilam, then, must have left his house before -Carpentaria had come on to the balcony. The watcher on the balcony felt -his heart beating rapidly. His calm had vanished. The frenzy of the -music, the perturbation caused by the bullet, had passed, only to give -way to another and perhaps a more dreadful excitation. What could these -secret journeys of Ilam portend? He clutched fiercely the rail of the -balcony in his apprehensive anxiety. - -After a time--not a very long time--the door opened again, and for at -least five seconds Josephus Ilam stood plainly silhouetted against a -light within the house, and over his shoulders, which were bent, he -carried an enormous limp burden, draped in black. He looked back into -the house once, then turned awkwardly, because of his burden, to shut -the door behind him, and with excessive deliberation descended the steps -and came out into the avenue. The figure and its burden were now nothing -but a shape in the gloom. - -Carpentaria decided in the fraction of a second what he would do. He -slipped into his bedroom, took off his boots, put on a pair of felt -slippers, scurried downstairs, opened the side-door, and gently slipped -out. Ilam, tramping slowly with clumsy footsteps, had reached the arch -leading to the Central Way. - - - - -CHAPTER VII--The Cut - -Carpentaria dogged him with all the precautions of silence as he turned -to the right down the Central Way. The great thoroughfare of the City -of Pleasure was, of course, absolutely deserted. Its fountains were -stilled; its pretty cable-cars had disappeared; its flags had been -hauled down. The meagre trees rustled chilly in the night-wind. Its vast -and floriated white architecture seemed under the sombre sky to be -the architecture of a dream. The one sign of human things was the -illuminated face of the clock over the Exposition Palace, which showed -twenty-five minutes past twelve. Of the two thousand souls employed -in the City, more than half had gone to their homes in the other city, -London, and several hundreds slept in the dormitories that had been -built for them at the southern extremity of the Central Way. The -remaining hundred or so were dispersed in various parts of the City, -either watching or asleep. Some had the right to sleep at their posts. -But the men of the highly-organized fire service would be awake and -alert. - -Yet there happened to be no living creature on the Way, except its two -chiefs. Ilam crossed the Way, and turned off it through an avenue that -lay between the lecture hall and the menagerie. Carpentaria followed -at a safe distance, hiding in the thick shadows as he went. From the -interior of the menagerie came the subdued growls and groans of the wild -beasts therein, suffering from insomnia, and longing for the jungle. -Among the treasures of the menagerie was a society of twenty-seven -lions, who went through a performance twice a day under their trainer, -Brant, the king of lion-tamers, as he was called on the City of Pleasure -programmes, and as he, in fact, was. There were also a celebrated -sanguinary tiger, that had killed three men in New York, and various -other delicate attractions. The nocturnal noises of these fearsome -animals were sufficiently appalling. And when Ilam stopped before -a little door in the south façade of the menagerie building, a cold -perspiration froze the forehead and the spirit of Carpentaria. Was the -man going to yield his mysterious black-enveloped burden to the -lions and the tigers, the jackals and the hyenas, of that inestimable -collection of African and Asiatic fauna? - -But Ilam struggled onwards. And next they passed the electricity works, -which was in full activity, for the manufacture of light went on night -and day in the City of Pleasure. Ilam slunk along the front of the -workshops, increasing his pace. Fortunately for him, the windows were -seven feet from the ground, so that he could not be observed from -within. The whirr of the wheels revolving incessantly in front of -gigantic magnets filled the air, and from the high windows shone a -steely-blue radiance, chequered by the flying shadows of machinery. - -Ilam turned again, and entered the Amusements Park, and, threading his -way among chutes, switchbacks, slides, and ponds, he crossed it from end -to end. - -“Where is he going?” Carpentaria muttered. - -And then, suddenly, it occurred to Carpentaria where Ilam was going. - -Behind the Amusements Park, and abutting on the confines of the City -territory, was a large waste piece of ground which had been used for -excavations and for refuse. In the tremendous operation of levelling the -site of the City, digging foundations, and gardening in the landscape -manner, much earth had been needed in one spot, and much earth had -had to be removed in another. The waste piece of ground was the -clearing-house of this business. In certain parts it was humped like -a camel’s back, and in others it was hollowed into pits. Immense -quantities of soil lay loose, and there were, besides, barrows and -spades in abundance. - -Arrived in the midst of this sterile wilderness, Ilam unceremoniously -dropped his burden near a miniature mountain, which raised itself by the -side of a miniature pit. He then found a spade, and, having tested -the looseness of the soil, took up the black mystery and slipped it -carefully into the pit. Then he climbed with the spade on to the summit -of the hillock, and began to push the soil from the hillock into the -pit. It proved to be the simplest thing in the world. In five minutes -the burden of Ilam lay under several feet of soil. - -Carpentaria, favoured by the nature of the spot, had crept closer. - -“Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust!” he heard Ilam reciting. -Amazing phenomenon! But nothing can be more amazing than the behaviour -of an utterly respectable man when he is committing a crime! - -The affair finished, Ilam departed, passing within a few feet of -Carpentaria, who stretched himself flat on the ground to avoid -detection. - -And when Ilam had vanished out of sight, Carpentaria jumped up -feverishly, seized the spade, leapt into the pit and began to dig--to -dig with a fury of haste. Fate helped him, for the black mass was -uncovered in less time than had been taken to cover it. He dragged it -slowly out of the pit, and slowly, almost reluctantly, unwrapped it. He -had been sure at the first touch that it was the body of a man, and he -was not mistaken. In the gloomy night he could see the white patches -made by the face and the hands. The body was not yet stiff. He -hesitated, and then struck a match. He hoped the wind would blow it out, -but the wind spared it; it flared bravely, and lighted the face of the -corpse, and the corpse was that of the mysterious drunken man. - -A thousand unanswerable questions fought together for solution in -Carpentaria’s brain. - -He knew himself to be in the presence of a crime, of a murder. His legal -duty, therefore, was to fetch justice in the shape of a policeman. But -he reflected that no battalion of policemen and judges could undo the -crime, bring the dead to life, make innocent the guilty. He reflected -also upon the clumsiness of State justice, and the inconveniences -attaching to it, and upon the immeasurable harm its advent might do to -the opening season of the City of Pleasure. Moreover, he had a horror -of capital punishment, and he was a bold and original man, though an -artist. He settled rapidly in his mind that he himself would probe the -matter to its root, and that the justice involved should be the private -justice of Carpentaria, not the public justice of the realm. - -And a few minutes later he had discovered a long, flat barrow, and was -wheeling away the burden that had bent the back of Josephus Ilam. He -brought it circuitously and gently by way of the Sports Fields round -again to the Central Way, and so to the neighbourhood of his own house. -The night had now grown darker than ever, and a few drops of rain began -to fall. - -Suddenly, as he was approaching the two bungalows, he stopped and -listened. He thought he heard footsteps; but no sound met his ear, and -he raised the handles of the barrow again. By this time he was midway -between the bungalows and about to turn to the side-entrance of his -own. Once more he stopped; he distinctly did hear footsteps crushing the -gravel. - -“What is that? Anyone there?” cried a voice. - -And it was Ilam’s voice, full of fear. Carpentaria crept away to the -shelter of his own wall, leaving the barrow that had become a bier in -the midst of the path. Vaguely and dimly he saw the form of Ilam coming -down the avenue, saw it stop uncertainly before the barrow, saw it bend -down, and then he heard a shriek--a shriek of terror--loud, violent, and -echoing, and Ilam fled away. Carpentaria heard him mount the steps of -his house and fumble with the door, and then he heard the bang of the -door. - -With all possible speed he rushed to the barrow, wheeled it into his -garden, and thence to an outhouse, of which he carefully fastened the -padlock. - -He stood some time hesitant in the avenue, wondering whether any further -singular phenomenon would proceed from the Ilam house that night. His -curiosity was rewarded. A most strange procession emerged presently -from the bungalow. First came old Mrs. Ilam, dressed in a crimson -dressing-gown, a white nightcap on her head, and carrying a lamp with an -elaborate drawing-room shade. Carpentaria could see that the lamp shook -in her trembling hand. Her hands always trembled, but her head never. -She came down the steps with the deliberation of extreme old age, -peering in front of her, and she was followed, timorously, by her son. -The lamp threw a large circle of yellow light on the ground, and at -intervals Mrs. Ilam held it up high so that it illuminated the faces -of mother and son. They came into the middle of the avenue. It was now -seriously raining. - -“I knew it wouldn’t be there,” Ilam whispered, in an awed tone. “It -isn’t the sort of thing that stays. But I saw it--I saw the cloth and I -saw a bit of its face.” - -Mrs. Ilam looked about her. - -“Nonsense, Jos,” she upbraided him, fixing her eyes on him in a sort of -reproof. “It’s your imagination.” - -“It isn’t,” said Josephus. “I saw it; and what’s more, it was on a bier. -That’s the worst--it was on a bier. Mother, he will haunt me all my -life!” - -“Don’t talk so loud, child,” put in Mrs. Ilam. “You’d better go to bed.” - -“What’s the good of going to bed?” he inquired. “What! I took him and I -buried him as safe as houses. I left him there, and I came straight back -here, except that I was stopped by a watchman at the stables, who told -me the horses seemed to be all frightened. And I had a talk to the -fellow; and I find _it_ on a bier here, right in my path. And now it’s -gone again.” - -“Come in,” said Mrs. Ilam. - -“And why were the horses frightened? That shows----” - -“Come in,” Mrs. Ilam repeated. “I’ll get you some hot milk, and you must -try to sleep.” - -“Sleep!” he murmured. “Mother, you mustn’t leave me.” - -And the procession re-entered the house, and the door was closed, but a -light burned upstairs through the remainder of the night. - -Carpentaria himself had little sleep; he scarcely tried to sleep. He -arose at seven o’clock, and dressed and went out on to the balcony. The -rain had ceased, and the Sunday morning was exquisitely calm and sunny. -The whole scene was so bright and clear that the events of six hours ago -appeared fantastic and impossible. Yet Carpentaria knew only too well -that the unidentified corpse lay in the outhouse. He meant first to -examine the corpse himself, and then to confide in a certain official of -the city whom he knew that he could trust. What he should do after that -he could not imagine. Decidely some process of burial would be speedily -imperative. - -All the blinds of the Ilam bungalow were drawn. He guessed that at least -the upper ones would remain so, and he was somewhat taken aback when -Mrs. Ilam herself appeared at a window and opened it. He was still more -taken aback to see Mrs. Ilam a moment later open the door, and with much -stateliness cross the avenue to his own dwelling. He knew that she -was friendly with Juliette, and that Juliette liked her. He, too, had -admired her, but only because she was so old and so masterful, such a -surprising relic. That she should be accessory to a crime did not seem -strange to him. He esteemed her to be a woman capable of anything. He -would have to warn Juliette. - -At eight o’clock a servant brought up the French breakfast with which, -under Juliette’s influence, he compromised with hunger till lunch-time; -and with the breakfast came, as usual, the cat Beppo. The breakfast -consisted of a two-handled bowl of milk and a fresh roll and a pat of -butter. Beppo seemed determined to share the breakfast without delay. -Carpentaria, as was his frequent practice, took the roll off its plate -and poured on the plate as much milk as it would hold. And Beppo, to -whom milk was the answer to the riddle of the universe, leapt on to the -table and began to lap in his gluttonous masculine way. He had taken -exactly four laps when he ceased to lap. He looked up at his master, -and there was a disturbed and pained expression in his amber eyes. -This expression changed in an instant to one of positive fright. He was -evidently breathing with difficulty, and he was rather at sea, for -he groped about on the table and put both his forepaws into the bowl, -splashing the milk in all directions. He then gave a fearful shriek; -his pupils dilated horribly in spite of the strong sunshine, and he went -into convulsions. His breath came quick and short. Finally, he fell off -the table. - -He was dead. - -Less than three minutes previously he had been a cat full of power, of -romance, and of the joy of life, with comfortable views on most things. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII--Disappearance of Juliette - -People may read about crimes in newspapers all their lives, and yet -never properly realize that crime exists. To appreciate what crime is, -one must be brought to close quarters with crime, as Carpentaria was. -Twelve hours ago murder to him had been nothing but a name. Now he knew -the horror that murder inspires. And with the corpse of the cat Beppo -lying at his feet, he felt that horror far more keenly even than in the -night as he unearthed the corpse of the mysterious drunken man. He -had actually seen the cat done to death, and had it not been for the -greediness of Beppo, he himself would have lain there, stretched out in -eternal quiet. - -He looked at the half-empty bowl of milk and at the splashes of milk -on the round painted table, reflecting that each splash was no doubt -sufficient to kill a man. - -He wondered what he must do, how he must begin to disentangle himself -from the coil of danger that was surrounding him. He was not afraid. -He was probably much too excited to be afraid. He was angry, startled, -grieved, and puzzled, and nothing more. His mind turned naturally to -Juliette--Juliette, his comforter and companion. He did not like the -idea of frightening her by a recital of what had occurred, but he knew -that he would be compelled to do so. He must talk confidentially to some -one who understood him and admired him. Now, at that hour in the morning -the faithful Juliette, her dress ornamented by an extremely small and -attractive French apron, was in the habit of personally dusting the -writing-table in Carpentaria’s study adjoining the bedroom. No profane -hand ever touched that table, and Juliette’s own hand never ventured -to arrange its sublime disorder. There were three servants in the -house--the parlourmaid, the cook, and a scullery-maid. There might have -been a dozen had Juliette so wished. But Juliette was a simple person; -her father, the second husband of Carpentaria’s mother, had belonged to -the plain and excellent French bourgeoisie, who know so well how to cook -and how to save money, and Juliette had inherited his tastes. Juliette -was always curbing Carpentaria’s instinct towards magnificence. She did -not want even three servants, and there were a number of delicate tasks, -such as the dusting of Carpentaria’s table, that she would not permit -them to do. - -Carpentaria touched nothing on the balcony. He went into the bedroom, -fastened the window, and then hesitated. He could hear Juliette’s soft -movements in the study. Ought he, could he, go to her and say bluntly: -“Juliette, some one is trying to murder me, and you must take more care -than you took this morning--you allowed my milk to be poisoned”? - -At last he opened the door of the study. - -But it was not Juliette dusting the sacred table. It was Jenkins, the -parlourmaid! - -Such a thing had never before happened in the united domesticity of -Carpentaria and Juliette! It was astounding. It unnerved Carpentaria. - -He locked the door of the bedroom, and put the key in his pocket. - -“What are you doing here?” he demanded gruffly of the parlourmaid. - -“Dusting your table, sir,” replied Jenkins, in a tone that respectfully -asked to be informed whether Carpentaria was blind. - -“Who told you to dust my table?” - -“Mistress, sir.” - -“Where is your mistress?” - -“I don’t know, sir. She told me to come up and dust the room.” A pause. -“I--er--really don’t know.” - -“Go and find her. Ask her to speak to me at once.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Half a minute, Jenkins. It was you who brought my milk up?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Where did you take it from?” - -“Mistress gave it me with her own hands, sir.” - -“And you brought it direct to me?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“No one else touched it?” - -“No, sir.” - -“Anybody called here this morning?” - -“Called, sir?” Jenkins seemed ruffled. - -“Yes. Anybody been to the house?” - -“No, sir,” said Jenkins, as though in asking if anybody had called -Carpentaria was reflecting upon her moral character. And she blushed. - -“Very well. Go and find your mistress.” - -Jenkins departed, and came back in a surprisingly short space of time. - -“Mistress doesn’t seem to be about, sir,” said Jenkins. - -“What? She hasn’t gone out, has she?” - -“Not that I know of, sir. But I can’t find her.” - -“Have you looked in her bedroom?” - -“I knocked at the door, sir.” - -“And there was no answer?” - -“No, sir.” - -“When did you last see your mistress?” - -“When she told me to dust this room, sir, after I had brought up your -milk.” - -“Where was she?” - -“In the dining-room, sir.” - -A fearful thought ran through the mind of Carpentaria, cutting it like a -lancet. Suppose that Juliette had been poisoned! Suppose that an attempt -had been made against her, as against him, but with more success! He -hurried out of the room and knocked loudly at her bedroom-door. - -“Juliette! Are you there?” - -No answer. - -“Juliette, I say!” - -Again no answer. His heart almost stopped. He opened the door and -entered the room. It was empty, but already the bed had been made and -everything tidied. He penetrated to the dressing-room, which was equally -neat and equally empty. - -Then he searched the house and the premises; he searched everywhere -except in the little outhouse wherein was hidden the corpse of the -drunken man. At length, after a futile cross-examination of the cook in -the kitchen, he perceived that the scullery-maid, in the scullery was -surreptitiously beckoning to him. - -This ungainly chit, Polly, whose person was only kept presentable by -the ceaseless efforts of Juliette, had red hair, rather less red than -Carpentaria’s, and she worshipped him afar off. She had that “cult” for -him which very humble servants do sometimes entertain for masters who -never even throw them a glance. And now she was beckoning to him and -making eyes! - -He followed her through the scullery into the yard. - -“Do you want mistress, sir?” asked Polly in a whisper. - -“Yes.” - -“Well, she’s over the wye, sir.” - -“Over the way?” - -“Yes, sir, at Mr. Ilam’s. Mrs. Ilam’s been here this morning, sir. Don’t -tell mistress as I told you, sir, for the love of heving!” - -Juliette was at Ilam’s! And he had twice found Juliette in the avenue -during the night! And she had been strangely excited when she came to -kiss him before going to bed. - -In something less than fifteen seconds he was rattling loudly at -Ilam’s door. He received no answer. He heard no sound within the house. -Wondering where the servants could be, he assaulted the door again, this -time furiously. A man who was rolling a lawn in the Oriental Gardens -glanced up at him. Still there was no reply. He was just deciding to -break into the house by way of a window, when the door opened very -suddenly, and as he was leaning upon it, he pitched forward into the -hall and into the arms of old Mrs. Ilam, who, with her white cap, her -black dress and her parchment face, seemed aggrieved by this entrance. - -“Mr. Carpentaria!” she protested, raising her shaking hands. - -But she was admirably and overpoweringly calm, and her extreme age -prevented Carpentaria from taking the measures which he would have taken -had she been younger, less imposing, less august, less like a dead woman -who walked. - -“My sister is here, and I must see her at once.” - -“No, Mr. Carpentaria; your sister is not here.” Her tone startled him. -It was so cold and positive. But after a few seconds he thought she was -lying. - -“She has been here, then?” - -“No, Mr. Carpentaria. She has not been here.” - -“Really! But you have seen her this morning. You came to my house.” - -“No------” - -“Excuse me, Mrs. Ilam, I saw you from my----” - -“Ah!--from your balcony? You saw me cross the avenue, but you did not -see me enter your house. You could not have seen that from your balcony, -even if I had entered; and, as it happens, I didn’t enter.” - -“My servants say you came.” - -“Your servants probably say a good many things, Mr. Carpentaria,” she -smiled humorously. - -The musician felt himself against a stone wall. “Can I see your son?” he -asked at length of the imperturbable old woman. - -“My son is in bed and far from well,” said Mrs. Ilam. - -“Then I should like to talk to you instead,” said Carpentaria. - -She seemed to burst into welcome. - -“Come in, then, my dear man, do! Come in!” And she preceded him into the -drawing-room, an apartment furnished in the richest Tottenham Court Road -splendour. They sat down on either side of the hearth, where a fire was -burning. He did not know exactly how to begin. - -“Now, Mr. Carpentaria,” she encouraged him. - -“Some very strange things have been happening, Mrs. Ilam,” said he. - -He deemed that he might as well go directly to the point. He would come -to Juliette afterwards. So long as Juliette was not in Ilam’s house she -was probably in no immediate danger. - -“To you?” asked the dame. - -“To me. I saw some very strange things with my own eyes last night, and -within the last twelve Lours there have been two attempts to murder me.” - -A slight flush reddened the wrinkled yellow cheek of Mrs. Ilam. It -seemed as though she tried to speak and could not. Her fingers worked -convulsively. - -“You, too?” he murmured, with apparent difficulty. - -“Why do you say ‘you, too’?” Carpentaria demanded. - -She paused again. - -“It was the milk?” she seemed to stammer. - -“Yes, the second attempt; it was the milk,” admitted Carpentaria. - -She hid her face. - -“The same attempt has been made against Josephus,” she said. “And he was -so frightened it has made him ill. That is why he is not feeling very -well this morning.” - -“But does Mr. Ilam take milk for breakfast? I thought he always had ham -and eggs?” - -“Never!” said Mrs. Ilam. “Hot bread-and-milk. Nothing else.” - -“And how did he find out that the milk was poisoned?” Carpentaria -pursued. - -“I--I don’t know,” said Mrs. Ilam. “But he did. He’s very particular -about his food, is Jos. And he suspected something. So he tried it on -Neptune, the Newfoundland. And Neptune is dead. He says he thinks it -must be prussic acid. Oh, Mr. Carpentaria, what is this plot against us -all? What are we to do?” - -Carpentaria was reduced to muteness. The old lady had changed the trend -of his thoughts. He had been secretly accusing Ilam, but if Ilam’s life -also had been attempted, the case was very much altered. It was perhaps -even more perilous. Still, Mrs. Ilam had done nothing to explain the -extraordinary events of the night. He decided to be cautious. - -“I happened to see lights in your house very late last night, or rather, -early this morning,” he said. “I was afraid that either you or Mr. Ilam -might be ill.” - -His eyes sought hers and met them fully and squarely. - -“Oh!” she exclaimed sadly. “Jos had a dreadful night. He does have them -sometimes, you know. Bad dreams. In many ways he is just like a child. -There are nights when I think his dreams are more real to him than his -real life. Now, last night he dreamed there was a corpse lying on a bier -in the avenue, and nothing would satisfy him but that I should come out -with him to see. Fancy it! at my age! However, there was nothing--of -course.” - -Carpentaria said to himself that the old lady evidently was unaware of -her son’s midnight escapade, and that he could get no further with her. -The hope sprang up within him that Polly had been after all mistaken. -Juliette might have gone out merely for a stroll and have returned ere -then. He rose to take leave of Mrs. Ilam. - -“What are you going to do?” she asked him. - -“What about?” - -“Well, my dear man, about this attempted poisoning.” - -“I suppose we must inform the police,” he replied. - -“Yes, I suppose so,” she agreed. “But perhaps it would be well to wait -until you had had a talk with Jos. He’ll be getting up during the day.” - -“We’ll see,” said Carpentaria. - -“It’s a good thing it’s Sunday and we’re free, isn’t it?” she remarked. - -He had got precisely as far as the drawing-room door, when a voice -reached his ears from the upper story. “Mrs. Ilam! Mrs. Ilam! He’s eaten -his ham and eggs. What about the marmalade?” - -Carpentaria dashed into the hall and looked up the stairs, and he saw -the head of Juliette over the banisters. - -Behind him he heard a suppressed sigh from Mrs. Ilam. - - - - -CHAPTER IX--The Dead Dog - -Carpentaria ran up the stairs. If he had not had flame-coloured hair, -and the fiery temper that goes with it, he would probably have pursued -the more dignified course of calling Juliette down and interrogating -her in privacy. But he was Carpentaria. She knew his moods, and she fled -before him into a sitting-room, where Ilam, a dressing-gown covering his -suit of Sunday black, reclined in an easy-chair by the side of a small -table bearing an empty plate and a knife and fork. - -She cowered down on the floor. - -“Oh, Carlos!” she exclaimed under her breath. - -Carpentaria made the obvious demand: - -“What are you doing in this house, Juliette?” - -There was a silence. - -“Look here, Carpentaria,” Ilam began, rising a little in a chair. - -“Silence!” cried Carpentaria angrily and threateningly. - -And at the noise the great dog Neptune, pride of the Ilams, emerged from -behind the chair and growled. - -Juliette said at last: - -“Mrs. Ilam told me that Jos--that Mr. Ilam was unwell, and so I--I came -to see how he was. That’s all.” - -“Really!” said Carpentaria. “Is that all? Your philanthropic interest -in the sick and suffering, my girl, does you great credit. But as the -invalid seems to be doing fairly well you’d better come home with me. I -want to talk to you.” - -Juliette gave a look of appeal to Ilam. - -“I must tell him,” she whispered. “I must tell Carlos. Why did you -want me to keep it a secret? Carlos, Mr. Ilam and I are engaged to be -married. We love each other. We only want your consent, and Jos was -afraid you mightn’t give it. He was afraid. We’ve been engaged three -days now, haven’t we, Jos?” - -“My consent!” Carpentaria shouted bitterly. “My consent!” His wrath was -dreadful, and yet to a certain extent he was controlling himself. “I -suppose,” he addressed Juliette, “it’s your love for this estimable -gentleman that leads you out into the gardens of a night, and I suppose -you take beautiful romantic moonlight strolls together. My consent! Ye -gods!” - -The dog continued to growl. - -Juliette gathered herself together, and moved to Ilam’s chair, and Ilam -took her hand protectively. - -“My poor dear! Never mind!” murmured Ilam soothingly. - -Genuine affection spoke in those tones uttered by the stout and -otherwise grotesque Mr. Ilam. Love itself unmistakably appeared in the -attitude of the pair as they clasped hands in front of Carpentaria’s -fury. And Carpentaria could not but be struck by what he saw. It sobered -him, puzzled him, diverted his thoughts. - -“Come, Juliette,” he said in a quieter, more persuasive tone. - -He turned to leave the room, and Juliette obediently followed. Allowing -her to pass before him, he stopped an instant and threw a glance at -Ilam. - -“So they’ve been trying to poison you, Ilam.” - -“Poison me!” repeated Ilam, plainly at a loss. - -“Yes,” said Carpentaria with a sneer. “And you never have ham and eggs -for breakfast. That’s the reason why that plate is streaked with yellow. -You always have milk. Naturally, you eat it with a knife and fork. And -you suspected the milk and gave some of it to Neptune, and he fell down -dead. He looks dead, doesn’t he?” - -“I don’t know what you mean,” Ilam said. - -“You must ask mamma,” replied Carpentaria, departing. - -He saw now with the utmost clearness that the aged Mrs. Ilam had -been indulging him with some impromptu lying, invented, and clumsily -invented, to put him off the scent, were it only for a few hours. - -“She may be clumsy in her lying,” he thought as he descended the stairs -in Juliette’s wake, “but she can act, the old woman can!” - -He remembered that her acting had been perfect, and if Juliette had not -happened to disclose the fact of her presence, the lying of Mrs. Ilam, -clumsy as it was, might have succeeded. It is so easy to poison a dog, -and to arrange the remains of poisoned milk. - -He was capable of congratulating her on her acting, but she had utterly -vanished from the ground-floor. - -When he had deposited Juliette safely in his study, she began to cry -softly. It was impossible for him to maintain his anger against her. - -“Juliette,” he said, “why do you have secrets from me?” - -“Oh, Carlos, he wished it to be kept secret. He said he had reasons; and -I love him. No one has ever loved me before, and I’m thirty.” - -“What about my affection?” asked Carpentaria. - -“Oh, that’s different!” she cried. - -Then he questioned her about Mrs. Ilam. - -“I was at the kitchen window, preparing your milk, and the window was -open, and Mrs. Ilam came up outside, and told me that Jos was unwell, -and wanted to see me.” - -“Did she touch the milk?” - -“Touch the milk? No; why should she touch the milk?” - -“Could she reach to touch the milk, supposing she had wished to?” - -“I dare say she could. Yes, she could. But why?” - -“Could you swear absolutely she didn’t?” - -“I couldn’t swear; but I’m nearly sure. Carlos, what do you mean?” - -“I’ll show you what I mean!” said Carpentaria. - -He unlocked the bedroom door and led her to the balcony. - - - - -CHAPTER X--A Pinch of Snuff - -Three hours later Carpentaria, whose thoughts had been bent upon some -solution of the problem set by Juliette’s strange and incomprehensible -love affair with Josephus Ilam, was obliged to devote his brains to -other and not less disturbing matters. He received in his study, for the -second time that day, young Rivers, the newly-admitted doctor who had -been officially attached to the City of Pleasure. A medical cabinet and -a pharmacy had been judged quite indispensable to the smooth running -of the City, and the foresight which had provided them was entirely -justified by the numerous small accidents, faintings, and indispositions -that marked the opening day, when more than three hundred persons -had patronized the pharmacy, and more than twenty had received the -attentions of the ardent young doctor. - -Carpentaria had first met young Rivers when this youth was walking -Bart’s, and the accession of Rivers to the brilliant and brilliantly -remunerated position of physician and surgeon-in-ordinary to the City of -Pleasure was due to Carpentaria’s influence. Rivers was grateful, very -grateful. Moreover, he liked Carpentaria, thought him, in fact, the most -wonderful man, except Lord Lister, that he had ever met. - -“Well,” said the fair youth of twenty-five, when Carpentaria had shut -the study-door, “I’ve made the analysis. It comes out to just about what -I expected.” - -“Prussic acid?” - -“Not exactly prussic acid. A soluble cyanide--cyanide of potassium. Have -you by any chance got a photographic bureau concealed somewhere in the -show?” - -“Why, of course,” said Carpentaria. “Didn’t you know? It’s next door -to the lecture-hall.” - -“Then the cyanide of potassium was probably got from there. It’s used by -photographers. Better make inquiries.” - -“We will,” Carpentaria agreed. “And do you mean to say cyanide of -potassium will kill like that? How much prussic acid does it contain?” - -“Scarcely any. Not two per cent.--not one per cent.” - -“And poor Beppo was dead in a minute.” - -“My dear Mr. Carpentaria,” said Rivers excitedly. “The strongest -solution of prussic acid known to commerce only contains four per cent, -of pure acid. And in the anhydrous state----” - -“Anhydrous?” - -“That means without water. In the anhydrous state,” Rivers proceeded -enthusiastically, “two grains will kill a man in a second of time. Like -that! It’s an amazing poison!” - -Carpentaria shuddered. - -“By the way,” he said, as if casually, “I’ve got a corpse I want you to -look at.” - -“A corpse?” - -“Keep calm, my young friend,” Carpentaria enjoined him. And he told -him the history of the drunken man. “Naturally all this is strictly -confidential,” he concluded. - -“I should think so,” said Rivers, aghast. “Can you not see that you have -got yourself into a dreadful mess? You are an accessory after the -fact. You have been guilty of a gross illegality. I don’t know what the -penalty is; I’m not very well up in medical jurisprudence; but I know -it’s something pretty stiff. Why, you might be accused of the murder.” - -“Yes, I am aware of all that,” answered Carpentaria. “But I was very -curious; and I didn’t want any police meddling here.” - -“You are going just the way to bring them here.” - -“Not at all. When you have made your examination I shall simply put the -body where I found it. No one will be the wiser.” - -“And theft?” - -“Then--we shall see. It will depend on your examination.” - -“But, really, Mr. Carpentaria, I cannot lend myself-----” - -“Not to oblige me?” - -Carpentaria smiled an engaging smile, and they descended together to the -outhouse. - -The outhouse was not more than eleven feet square, and the barrow with -its burden was stretched across it diagonally, so that when the two men -were inside, the place was full and the door would scarcely close. A -small window gave light. - -Rivers gently pulled the black cloth aside. - -“This is just such black cloth as photographers use,” he remarked. - -“So it is,” said Carpentaria. - -The eyes of the corpse were closed; he might have been a man asleep, -this strange relic from which a soul had flown and which would soon -resolve itself into its original dust. - -“Poor fellow,” thought Carpentaria. “Once he lived, and had interests, -and probably passions, and thought himself of some importance in the -universe.” - -The spectacle saddened Carpentaria, whereas the young doctor was not at -all saddened, he was merely intensely interested. - -“A blow on the head among other things,” he observed, indicating to -Carpentaria the top of the skull which showed an abrasion together with -an extravasation of blood, now clotted. - -“Would that do it?” queried Carpentaria. - -“Don’t know. Might. By Jove, the rigor is extraordinarily acute.” - -“Rigor?” - -7.8 - -“The stiffness that follows death. Great Scott!” - -The doctor assumed an upright position, and stared, first at the corpse -and then at Carpentaria. - -“Great Scott!” he repeated. - -“What’s up?” - -The doctor made no reply, but tried to lift the left arm of the body. He -could not, without raising the entire body. - -“This is most interesting,” he said. - -“What is?” - -Again Rivers did not answer. Instead, he took his watch from his pocket, -and put it suddenly against the ear of the corpse. - -The corpse twitched; its head moved slightly; the eyelid lifted the -eighth of an inch. - -“See that? You’re lucky! And so’s he!” said the doctor. “It’s catalepsy! -that’s all--A sudden slight noise at the ear itself will often produce a -change of position in catalepsy.” - -“Then he’s not dead!” exclaimed Carpentaria. - -“Dead? He’s no more dead than you are! It’s just catalepsy, induced -probably by that blow. But he must have been very excited previously, -and, no doubt, suffering from melancholia too. My dear Mr. Carpentaria, -there is only one absolutely reliable symptom of death, and that -is--putrefaction. Death is imitated by various diseases. But there are -not many that will imitate the coldness of death as catalepsy will. Feel -that hand; it’s like ice.” - -“And how long will he remain in this condition?” asked Carpentaria, full -of joy and relief. - -“Till you go and bring me some snuff. Snuff is the best thing in these -cases.” - -“And he’ll be perfectly well again?” - -“Yes, in a day or two.” - -“He’ll remember--things?” - -“Of course he will! Shall I go for that snuff, or will you?” - -“I will run,” said Carpentaria, and he ran. - - - - -CHAPTER XI--The Return to Life - -It was half-past seven o’clock on Monday evening. More than thirty -hours had elapsed since young Rivers first began his operations to -restore life to the cataleptic patient, and he was only just succeeding -in an affair which had proved extremely difficult and protracted. Young -Rivers, in fact, had found out during the watches of Sunday night and -the sunny morning of Monday that the disease (if catalepsy may be called -a disease) has a habit of flatly defying the rules of medical text-books -and the experience of even the youngest doctors. But ultimately he had -triumphed, though not by means of the famous snuff, which Carpentaria -had obtained, after exhaustive research, from a bass-fiddle player in -his band. - -The patient reclined, alive, conscious, capable of movement and speech, -but otherwise a prodigious enigma, in an arm-chair in Carpentaria’s -bedroom. His existence was a profound secret from all except the doctor -and the musician. - -And now these two, who had brought him back to earthly life, wanted -him to talk, to explain himself, to unravel the mysteries of Saturday -afternoon and Saturday night. And Carpentaria, dressed in his uniform, -waited, watch in hand; for in half an hour the daily concert must -commence in the Oriental Gardens. Nothing could interfere with -Carpentaria’s presence in the gorgeous illuminated bandstand. He had -sacrificed his interest in his half-sister, his curiosity about the -doings of the Ilams, his inspection of the affairs of the City, and even -a rehearsal, to the care of the recovering cataleptic, but the concert -itself, with its audience of a hundred thousand or so, could not be -sacrificed. - -“So you are Carpentaria?” murmured the patient, sipping at a glass of -hot milk. - -His age now appeared to be fifty. He had grey hair and a short grey -beard, rather whiter than the hair, and his eyes bore the expression of -a man who has found that life bears no striking resemblance to a good -joke. His hands moved nervously over the surfaces of the chair. - -“Yes,” Carpentaria admitted; “and you?” - -It was the first direct question that he had ventured to put to the -enigma, and the enigma ignored it. - -“You say I was buried and you unburied me?” he pursued. - -“Yes,” said Carpentaria enthusiastically, and he described the journeys, -the disappearances and the reappearances, of the body of the enigma on -the opening night. - -“I suppose I should have died really, if I’d been left alone?” the -enigma demanded of Rivers. - -“Undoubtedly,” said Rivers. “Undoubtedly,” he repeated. - -The enigma turned almost fiercely on Carpentaria. - -“Then why, in the name of common sense, couldn’t you have left me -alone?” he cried. - -It was as though he owed Carpentaria a grudge which the most cruel -ingenuity could not satisfy. - -“I--I thought----” Carpentaria stammered, too surprised to be able to -argue well. - -“You thought you were doing a mighty clever thing,” snapped the enigma. - -“I merely----” - -“Or, rather,” the enigma proceeded, “you didn’t think at all.” - -Rivers and Carpentaria exchanged a glance, indicating to each other that -the man was an invalid and must therefore be humoured. - -“Really, Mr.-----” Carpentaria began. - -“Call me Jetsam,” the invalid interrupted. “It isn’t my name, but it’s -near enough.” - -“Well, Mr. Jetsam----” - -“Not at all,” said Mr. Jetsam, sitting up in the chair. “There I was, -comfortably dead, blind and deaf for evermore to the stupidities, -the shams, the crimes, and the tedium of this world, and you go and -deliberately recreate me! Is your opinion of the earth, and particularly -of England, so high that you imagine a man is better on it than off it? -Have you reached your present position and your present age, without -coming to the conclusion that a person once comfortably dead would never -want to be alive again? It seems to me, that you took upon yourselves -the responsibility, the terrible responsibility of putting me back into -life without giving the matter a moment’s serious thought. And I do -verily believe that you expected me to be grateful! Grateful!” - -“It was a question of duty----” Carpentaria ventured. - -“Yes, of course. It only remained for you to drag in that word; I -anticipated it. And why was it your duty? Who told you it was your duty? -What authority have you for saying it was your duty? None--absolutely -none! The sole explanation of your conduct is that, like most human -beings, you are an interfering busybody; you can’t leave a thing alone.” - -At length Carpentaria laughed. He was conscious of a certain liking for -Mr. Jetsam. - -“I can but offer you my humble apologies,” he said. “They are of no -avail; they will not undo what is done. But none the less I offer them -to you. You see, when I last saw you alive, you were so drunk, so very -drunk----” - -“I was not drunk at all,” said Mr. Jetsam. “And your inability to -perceive the fact proves that, though you may be able to wear a very -stylish uniform and to make a great deal of noise with a band, you are -an infant as a detective. No, sir, I had certain plans to execute, and -you, with that meddlesomeness that appears to characterize you, came -along and interfered. In order that I might be left alone I pretended to -be drunk. I have never been drunk in my life, which is conceivably more -than you can say for yourself, or you, sir”--and he pointed to the young -doctor, who had only recently finished being a medical student. - -“And those plans--may one inquire?” Carpentaria murmured. - -Mr. Jetsam covered his face with his hands. - -“Ah!” he sighed, evidently speaking to himself. “I had done with all -that, and now I must begin again. My instincts will inevitably drive me -to begin again. My dear people”--he surveyed his two companions with an -acid and distant stare--“instead of saving life, you have only set in -motion a chain of circumstances that will lead to the loss of it. Murder -and the scaffold will probably be the net result of your officious -zeal.” - -There was a rap on the bedroom door. - -“Five minutes to eight, sir,” called a voice. - -“Right,” said Carpentaria, getting up; and to Mr. Jetsam, “I will see -you after the concert.” - -“I doubt it,” said Mr. Jetsam. - -“Why not?” - -“Because I shall be gone. I am feeling quite strong.” - -35 - -“I should like to talk to you about certain people,” pursued -Carpentaria. - -“Who?” - -“Well, Josephus Ilam.” - -“I know all about Josephus Ilam.” - -“And his mother. Perhaps you don’t know all about his mother.” - -Mr. Jetsam jumped to his feet with singular agility. - -“Mrs. Ilam! She’s been dead for years,” he said gravely. - -“She was very much alive this morning,” replied Carpentaria. - -“He told me she was dead,” Jetsam muttered. - -“He lied. She is in the bungalow opposite.” - -“Oh!” Jetsam breathed, and he seemed to breathe the breath out of his -body. He swayed and fell back into the chair. - -“By Jove! He’s fainted!” exclaimed Rivers. - -“Look after him,” said Carpentaria, and flew downstairs and towards his -bandstand. - - - - -CHAPTER XII--On the Wheel - -The concert was over. If it had been as great a triumph as usual--and -it had--the reasons were perhaps that nothing succeeds like success, and -that the Carpentaria band was so imbued with the spirit of Carpentaria -that it would have played in the Carpentaria manner even had the -shade of Beethoven come down to conduct it. Certainly Carpentaria’s -performances with the baton, though wild and bizarre, lacked that -sincerity and that amazing invention which usually distinguished them. -He had too much to think about. There was the possibility of getting -shot as he stood there. There was the possibility of being poisoned at -his next meal. There was the possibility of some fearful complication -with Juliette and Ilam. There was the positive mystery of Ilam himself. -There was the comparative mystery of Ilam’s mother. And there was the -superlative mystery of Mr. Jetsam. Under these circumstances, with all -these pre-occupations, the plaudits of a hundred thousand people did not -particularly interest Carpentaria that night. His chief desire was to -get back to Mr. Jetsam, and to extract Mr. Jetsam’s secrets out of Mr. -Jetsam either by force, by fraud, or by persuasion. As he was bowing -languidly for the nineteenth time, and the entire orchestra was bowing -behind him, amid a hurricane of clapping, he thought to himself: - -“It’s a good thing I’m not in love! It would only need that, in addition -to what I already have on my hands, to drive me crazy!” - -As a fact, he had never been in love. Art, particularly as expressed by -brass instruments, was his mistress. - -He turned to descend the steps from the bandstand, when he perceived a -tall African standing at attention at the bottom of the steps. - -“What do you want?” he asked the African. - -The man smiled the placid and infantile smile of his race, and handed a -note to Carpentaria. - -“You from the Soudanese village?” - -“Yes, sah.” - -The inhabitant of the Soudanese village, which was one of the -attractions of the hippodrome, stood about six feet four inches -high, and he was in native costume, which consisted largely, but not -exclusively, of beads and polish. To gaze, dazzled, at the polish on -that man’s face, shoulders, chest, and calves, one would guess that the -whole tribe must sit up at nights bringing his polish to such a unique -pitch of perfection. In his cheek you could see yourself as in a mirror, -and he had the air of being personally well satisfied with the splendour -of his mahogany skin. - -Carpentaria opened the note. It read: - -“Please come to me at once.--Ilam.” - -Should he go? Or should he refuse this strange invitation, and hasten at -once to Mr. Jetsam and the doctor? - -“Where is Mr. Ilam?” he demanded of the Soudanese. - -The Soudanese merely increased his smile, and pointed vaguely in the -direction of the Amusement Park. - -“Over there?” - -“Yes, sah.” - -“But where, man?” - -“Yes, sah!” He lifted an arm and pointed. - -The upper part of the illuminated rim of the giant wheel, a hundred feet -higher than any other wheel in the world, could be seen over the roofs -of the lofty white buildings in the Central Way. At this moment a -rushing, roaring noise was heard to the east, and simultaneously the -lights of the giant wheel were extinguished. Carpentaria glanced round. -A rocket burst with a faint reverberation in the sky, a little colony of -crimson stars floated for a few seconds amid the clouds--some stars -had the shape of the letter I and others of the letter C--and then -they expired, and the sky was black again. Cheers greeted the ingenious -signal for the commencement of the first pyrotechnic display of the -City of Pleasure, and a small crowd, which was beginning to form in the -neighbourhood of the Soudanese, frittered itself suddenly away in a rush -towards the Embankment. The fireworks were discharged from a plot of -ground on the other side of the river--a plot specially leased for that -sole purpose. - -“I’ll come with you,” said Carpentaria to the Soudanese. He had decided -that an interview with Ilam could not do any harm, and there was always -the chance that it might in some way prove decisive. As for Mr. Jetsam, -he would deal with Mr. Jetsam later. Possibly Ilam might have determined -to make a general confession to him. - -And he had his revolver. - -The Soudanese walked quickly, and he was several inches taller than -Carpentaria. In something less than five minutes they had arrived at the -entrance to the Amusements Park, which was closing for the night. - -“Where is Mr. Ilam?” Carpentaria asked again. - -The Soudanese smiled. - -They stood at the foot of the giant wheel, all of whose sixty cars were -in darkness save one, and this car was at the bottom, and its door was -open. Near the door stood a single official in the uniform of the City. - -Carpentaria began to be puzzled. - -“Mr. Ilam at the top?” he asked the official. - -“I think so, sir,” said the official, after hesitating. - -Carpentaria went into the car. The Soudanese shut the sliding door, -remaining himself outside. The official blew a whistle, and the giant -wheel began slowly to revolve with a terrific vibration and straining -of chains and rods. The car was designed to hold sixty people--when the -giant wheel was in full work it earned a hundred and eighty pounds per -revolution--and Carpentaria felt lonely in it. “Is this some trap?” his -thoughts ran; and he said to himself that he didn’t care whether it was -a trap or not. As the car rose in the sky he had a superb view of the -fireworks, which were now in full career--an immense and glittering -tapestry of changing coloured flame, reflected hue for hue and tint -for tint on the calm surface of the Thames beneath. And high above the -pyrotechnics lightning was beginning to play. The day had been hot, even -close, and it had been a pleasing surprise to the money-takers of the -City that rain had not fallen. - -At last the wheel shuddered, shook, and stopped. The car was at the -summit, three hundred and forty feet above the level of the earth. A -figure appeared on the flying platform outside the car. The door was -opened, and Ilam entered. - -“What’s the meaning of this?” Carpentaria demanded of him, standing up -suddenly, and instinctively feeling the handle of his revolver with his -right hand. - -“It means that I wish to talk to you in private,” answered Ham, -emphasizing the last two words; “and there seems to me to be no place -particularly private down below now,” he added. - -“What do you infer?” - -“Perhaps I don’t quite know what I infer,” said Ilam. “All I can tell -you is that this City has been getting rather peculiar this last day or -two.” - -“It has,” Carpentaria agreed pointedly. - -“And as you went to the trouble of taking me up in that thing”--he -indicated overhead, where the captive balloon was darting a searchlight -to and fro across the expanse of the grounds--“I thought I’d go to the -trouble of bringing you up here. It’s safer.” - -Carpentaria noticed how pale the man was, how changed his visage, and -how nervous his demeanour. - -“I hope it is,” said Carpentaria. “What do you want?” - -“Let’s sit down,” replied Ilam, clearing his throat, and they sat down -on opposite sides of the car. “I’ll explain what I want in three words. -How much will you take to clear out? I’m a plain man--how much will you -take to clear out?” - -“Clear out of the City? I won’t take anything,” said Carpentaria. -“All the gold of all the Rockefellers won’t clear me out. I’ve got the -largest audience for my band that any bandmaster ever had, and I like -it. It’s worth more than money to----” - -“Is it worth more than life to you?” asked the heavy President, -gloomily. - -“No; but I reckon I can keep my life and my audience, too,” said -Carpentaria. “At any rate, you’ve tried to have my life twice and -failed, and that hasn’t frightened me. I’m less frightened than you are, -even.” - -“I’ve not tried to kill you,” said Ilam. - -“You’ve tried to shoot me and to poison me. Why, I cannot imagine.” - -“I’ve not,” repeated Ilam.’ - -And, in spite of himself, Carpentaria was impressed by the apparent -truthfulness of Ilam’s tone. - -“Then who has?” - -“I’ve no idea,” said Ilam lamely. “I don’t know what you mean, what you -are referring to. But I’ll give you fifty thousand a year for ten years -to go--to go.” - -“No,” said Carpentaria. “I’m here. I stay.” - -“Then, you’ll take the consequences.” - -“I always take the consequences. But what consequences, my friend?” - -“Well,” Ilam coughed, “you say there have been attempts on your life. -Suppose they are continued? What then? I should like to save you. And -perhaps I can only save you by persuading you to vanish.” - -“Awfully good of you,” Carpentaria sneered. “But I assure you that these -attempts on my life interest me enormously. I wouldn’t miss them for -a fortune. I’m beginning rather to like them. One gets used to an -atmosphere of mystery. No, Mr. President, I shall not go; but Juliette -will go. I shall send Juliette away to-morrow.” - -Ilam bit his lip. - -“That remains to be seen,” said he. “She likes me. I should make her a -good husband. Why do you object to me?” - -“Why do you court her in the dark? Why do you force her to have secrets -from me?” - -“That’s neither here nor there,” said Ilam. “I should make her a good -husband.” - -“But what sort of a mother-in-law would she have if she married you?” - demanded Carpentaria. - -Ilam made no reply. - -“And,” continued Carpentaria, “I don’t think it’s a good thing for a -woman to have a husband who is always seeing ghosts.” - -“Seeing ghosts?” - -“Don’t you see ghosts?” sneered Carpentaria. “N--no.” - -“Come down with me, and I’ll show you one, then,” said the bandmaster. - -He had conceived the idea of confronting Ilam with Mr. Jetsam. - -The shifting searchlight from the balloon fell dazzlingly across the -car, and through the window Carpentaria saw plainly for the fraction of -a second the polished face of the Soudanese. Then it disappeared. - -He rushed to the door, flung it open, and gazed downwards into the -weblike tracery of the steel-work which shone dully in the white glare -of the searchlight. A zigzag stairway, incomparably slender, stretched -away towards earth along the face of the colossal wheel, and a dark -figure slipped rapidly from rung to rung of the dizzy ladder. Then the -light moved capriciously away, and all was indistinguishable blackness. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII--Performances of Mr. Jetsam - -Carpentaria slipped back into the car with a shiver, as it occurred -to him that Ilam, had he so chosen, might have pushed him into three -hundred and forty perpendicular feet of space. But Ilam had not moved. - -“I’ve had enough,” said Carpentaria. “We’ll descend. Ring the bell.” - -“No,” said Ilam. “I want to----” - -“We’ll descend,” Carpentaria insisted. - -“It’s about Juliette,” pleaded Ilam. - -“We’ll descend,” said Carpentaria a third time. “Ring the bell.” - -He sat down, took his revolver from his pocket, and put it -ostentatiously on his knees. - -Ilam sighed, and pushed the white disc that communicated with the -engine-house, and a few moments later a vibration went through the -wheel, and it resumed its revolution. The car came down on the side -nearest the river, and its occupants had a superb view of the final -items of the display of fireworks. Among them were two portraits, in -living flame, of the twin gods of the City of Pleasure, and under each -headpiece was the name of its subject: “Ilam,” “Carpentaria.” The cheers -of the immense multitude greeted their ears. Then there was another -sound, but it came from above instead of from below. Ilam shrank as if -afraid. - -“You needn’t be frightened,” said Carpentaria. “It isn’t the trumpet -of the Day of Judgment, it’s only the beginning of a thunderstorm. It’s -just come in nice time to soak everybody through on their way home.” - -Rain spattered viciously on the windows. - -When they reached the ground a strange sight met their eyes--the sight -of seas and oceans of black, shining umbrellas, surging in waves from -all directions towards the Central Way and the exits from the City, and -as the umbrellas reached the covered footpaths of the Central Way they -collapsed and showed human beings. And then, at all the exits from the -City, all these umbrellas--and it was estimated that there were over -a quarter of a million of them--sprang again into life, and hid their -owners. The tempest was already at its height. - -“Come with me,” said Carpentaria, as Ilam sought to leave him, when they -quitted the Amusements Park. - -“No,” said Ilam flatly. - -They stood side by side in the open, heedless of the rain, while shelter -in the shape of the sidewalks of the Central Way was within a few yards -of them. - -The searchlight from the balloon still swept about the grounds, but the -fireworks were finished. - -“You shall come with me and see a ghost,” insisted Carpentaria angrily -and obstinately, “or I will make such a scandal in this place as will go -far to ruin it. Let me tell you that I know a great deal more than you -think. I am in a position, for example, to ask you, Ilam, whether -you spend your nights in bed or wandering about the grounds carrying -mysterious burdens.” - -A group of visitors hurried past them. - -“What do you mean?” muttered Ilam. “I--you must be going off your head.” - -“Doubtless I’m a madman, eh? Well, come along with the madman.” - -Ilam sighed. They passed into the Central Way, and had to fight for -progress against the multitudes that crowded the footpaths. No one -recognized them. - -“I wish we could understand each other,” said Ilam. - -“We shall, rest assured of that,” returned Carpentaria. “In quite a few -minutes we shall understand each other, or I am mistaken, and it may be -you that will have to leave this City--and with considerably less than -fifty thousand a year, my friend.” He pictured the moment when he should -confront Ilam with the man whose corpse Ilam had buried. Vistas opened -out before him. He saw the tables completely turned; he saw himself sole -master of the City, and the wielder of such power over Ilam as would -enforce obedience to his wishes. Then there would be no more insulting -requests to abandon his music, no more ridiculous suggestions, and no -fear of foolishness on the part of Juliette. It astonished him that he -had not realized before the enormous latent power which his knowledge of -Saturday night gave him over Ilam. - -“You will come with me to my house,” he said. - -“Who is there?” asked Ilam wearily. - -“Dr. Rivers--and the ghost.” - -“What is all this nonsense about a ghost?” - -“You shall see him first, and then, when you have seen him--before he -has seen you--you shall tell me whether or not you would like to have a -chat with him. It is a ghost warranted to talk.” - -Ilam said nothing. He was naturally at a complete loss. - -They entered the bungalow by means of Carpentaria’s latchkey, and they -mounted to the first-floor, and they went into the study. The door of -the bedroom was shut. Carpentaria led Ilam out on to the balcony of the -study window, from which it was not difficult, even for Ilam, to climb -into the balcony of the bedroom. - -“Now, you shall look into my bedroom,” said Carpentaria. - -And he himself looked first. It may be said that he was astounded. - -The room was lighted. There were no signs of Mr. Jetsam, but two chairs -had been overturned, and young Rivers lay prone on the floor, his eyes -shut, and some blood flowing from a wound in his forehead. - -Carpentaria sprang into the room, and, strange to say, Ilam followed -him. The fact was that Ilam did really for the moment believe -Carpentaria to be mad, and the bedroom to be the scene of some maniacal -crime. . - -Just then Rivers came to his senses. - -“That you, Mr. Carpentaria?” he murmured, rubbing his eyes. - -“Yes. What’s happened? Where’s Jetsam, as he calls himself? You’re not -seriously hurt, are you?” - -At the name of Jetsam, Ilam caught his breath and took hold of a -bedpost. - -“Jetsam?” he repeated. - -“You evidently recognize the name of my ghost,” said Carpentaria, -“though he isn’t here.” - -“He bashed me on the head with a chair,” said the doctor, sitting up and -putting a handkerchief to his head, “and I suppose I must have---- It -can’t be more than a minute or two since----” - -“But what was he doing? Where’s he gone?” inquired Carpentaria -impatiently. - -“He recovered consciousness quite quickly,” answered Rivers, “and I gave -him something to drink; then he asked me about Mrs. Ilam, and I told him -she lived with Mr. Ilam here, and he grew very excited, and said he must -go to her at once. I said he couldn’t; I said you wouldn’t allow that, -and he pretended to agree; but it was only a pretence. He began to talk -about other things, and then, all of a sudden, he sprang at me, and -that’s as much as I remember.” - -Without a word Carpentaria ran out downstairs and into the avenue. -The door of Ilam’s house stood wide open. He entered. In the hall he -perceived that the door of the drawing-room was also wide open, and he -entered the drawing-room..There was no light in the room save that of a -match, and the match was held by Mr. Jetsam. Mr. Jetsam stood staring at -Mrs. Ilam, and Mrs. Ilam sat motionless in her chair, apparently trying -to articulate and not succeeding. An appalling fear shone in her eyes. -No sound could be heard except the rattling of the rain on the French -window. - -Mr. Jetsam turned, and in the same second he dropped the match. The room -was in darkness. Then followed a crash of glass and splintering of -wood, and then a heavy fall in the apartment itself. With some trouble, -Carpentaria found the electric switch and turned on the light. Mrs. -Ilam’s lips were still trembling in a vain effort to speak. Her son -lay stretched and whimpering at her feet. Mr. Jetsam had vanished. The -window was in ruins. - -Dr. Rivers appeared. He had bandaged his forehead. - -“She is paralysed!” said the doctor, when he had examined Mrs. Ilam. -“She will never again have the use of her limbs or her organs of speech. -She will be able to see and to hear, that’s all.” - - - - -PART II--THE TWINS - - - - -CHAPTER XIV--Entry of the Twins - -It is a singular fact that the secondary stage of the drama which I am -relating was tremendously, vitally, influenced by the marriage of Mr. -Luke Shooter, junior partner in Shooter’s, a firm of wholesale ribbon -merchants in Cannon Street. Luke Shooter did not know it. Luke Shooter -had nothing whatever to do with the drama; it is very, probable that he -never even heard of it, except such trifling fragments as got into the -newspapers. Nevertheless, by the mere fact of marrying, Luke Shooter -unconsciously changed the course of events in the City of Pleasure. For -he was a man of broad views, and he liked people to think well of him, -and so it occurred that, at his suggestion, the multitudinous staff of -Shooter’s was given a complete holiday on the day of his marriage, and -that day happened to be Tuesday, May 4. - -So much for Mr. Luke Shooter. - -Many of the employés spent the latter half of the day in the City of -Pleasure, which was now the rage, the craze, and the vogue of London, -and among these were the twin sisters, Pauline and Rosie Dartmouth. -Pauline and Rosie were typists in the house of Shooters. Their age was -twenty-six. They were tall, and rather slim; only Rosie, the younger, -was not quite so slim as Pauline. Pauline was dark; Rosie was inclined -to fairness. In the partnership between them Pauline supplied the common -sense, while Rosie supplied the gaiety; each supplied a considerable -amount of beauty and charm, and a sum of thirty-five shillings a week. -It is obvious that on a total income of three pounds ten a week, or a -hundred and eighty-two pounds a year, two girls living together in a -small flat, with sense and gaiety and full opportunity for acquiring -ribbons at wholesale prices, may have a very good time and cut quite -a pretty figure in the world. And this Pauline and Rosie certainly did -manage to do. - -They were orphans, and had been for a very long time. - -They came to the City by the Tube from their flat in Shepherd’s Bush, -and Pauline put a florin down for the two of them at the northern -entrance gates, just as though they had been ordinary visitors; as, in -fact, at that moment they were. A few persons noticed them, but quite -casually, and only because they were dressed--and well dressed--almost -exactly alike. There are so many beautiful young women in London -that Londoners seldom turn their heads to look at one. It is left to -Frenchmen to rave about the blond charm of the Anglo-Saxon “mees.” What -exuberant adjectives the Frenchman would find to express his delight -if he penetrated further north, into Staffordshire, Lancashire, and -Yorkshire, where ugly faces and bad complexions are practically unknown, -it is impossible to guess. - -The City of Pleasure met with the entire approval of Pauline and Rosie. -As soon as they found themselves in the Central Way they began to get -enthusiastic. The sun was shining, the flags were flying, the cable-cars -were gliding, and thousands and thousands of visitors made gay the -City. They had never before seen anything like the Central Way, with its -colonnades, and its shops, and its coloured throngs, and its soaring, -gleaming, white architecture. - -“It’s just as good as being abroad, isn’t it?” said Rosie. - -“Better,” said Pauline. - -But then they had never been beyond Boulogne. - -They stopped at shop windows, as much to regard jewellery and -knick-knacks, as to observe whether their frocks and chiffons and hats -were in that immaculate order which a sunny day and the presence of -one’s fellow-creatures demand. It may be mentioned here that their -dresses were of dark blue, with blue belts, bunchy knots of white -muslin at the throat, white gloves, brown glacé kid boots, and large -blue-and-black picture hats. It was plain, but it was perfect, and they -knew it was perfect. The consciousness of perfection enabled them to -sustain the judicial gaze of other women, and the passing glance of -innumerable young men, with a supercilious stare. In truth they were -secretly wild with the joy of life, and the attractiveness of the City, -and the sensations of their holiday, but they did not show it. Oh, no! -They did not show it. They were prim to the most advanced degree, as -became them. - -“I should just love to go on one of those dear little cable-cars!” - exclaimed Rosie. - -“Well, let’s,” Pauline agreed. - -“Aren’t they delicious?” said Rosie. - -And only in the girlish hop, skip, and jump, which landed them -gracefully on a car, was there a hint of the pent-up vivacity which -surged in their veins--a hint that vanished as rapidly as it had showed -itself. As Rosie smoothed out her skirt, and as Pauline opened the purse -in her gloved hand to give two pence to the conductor, they had the -utter demureness of duchesses. - -The car was open to the sky, with crosswise seats, and, as it sailed -rapidly down the Central Way, constantly passing other cars coming -in the opposite direction, and passing fountains and flower-beds -and elephants and camels, and all the strange world of the City, the -pleasure became rather too keen for Rosie’s mercurial heart. She took -Pauline’s hand and pressed it, sitting a little bit closer to her. - -“Suppose we meet him?” she whispered. - -“What? In this crowd? Never! Besides, he isn’t likely to be outside,” - said Pauline. - -She was only a few minutes older than Rosie, but she could not have -played the elder sister more completely had she been ten years older. - -“We might meet _her_, anyway!” murmured Rosie. - -“Nonsense, Rosie. You don’t imagine she’ll be here, do you?” - -“I don’t know,” said Rosie, lifting her chin. “But suppose we do meet -him, or either of them.” - -“Well, then,” said Pauline wisely, “we meet them, that’s all.” - -“Shall you speak to them?” Rosie asked; “I shan’t.” - -“We’ll think about that when we see them,” said Pauline. - -“Oh!” cried Rosie. - -This exclamation had nothing to do with the foregoing chatter. It merely -expressed some part of Rosie’s joy when the car came to the magnificent -circular place half-way down the Central Way, with the façade of the -Exposition Palace on the right, the stately entrance to the Oriental -Gardens on the left, and the superb vista of the thoroughfare before and -behind. - -“Oh!” cried Rosie again, for quite a different reason. - -Already she had forgotten the architectural and other beauties of this -scene, and was eagerly directing Pauline’s attention to a tall man with -vivid hair and an individual style, who had just crossed the rails in -front of the car and was proceeding towards the Oriental Gardens. - -“There!” said Rosie, pointing frantically, yet primly. “Don’t you see -him?” - -“Who? That man with the red hair?” - -“Yes; it’s Carpentaria, isn’t it?” - -“So it is, I do declare!” agreed Pauline, frankly as interested as her -sister. - -It was. - -“Oh!” breathed Rosie regretfully, as the car swept them further from the -figure of the popular hero. “Doesn’t he look lovely? He’s just like his -portraits, only nicer, isn’t he?” - -“I--I couldn’t see him very well,” said the discreet Pauline. - -“Yes, you could,” Rosie corrected her sharply. “You know you adore him. -But you’re always so mum.” - -Pauline smiled placidly. - -“I do wish we could meet him--be introduced to him I mean!” said Rosie. - -“My dear child,” Pauline reprimanded. “Don’t be silly. He’s frightfully -rich.” - -“I know!” said Rosie sadly. “But he isn’t married. I think his hair’s -beautiful.” - -In common with very many English and other girls, Rosie and Pauline were -capable of displaying brazenly, for a man they had scarcely seen, an -affection the tenth part of which certain males with whom they were -intimately acquainted would have been delighted to receive. Their virgin -hearts had never been touched, not even by the Apollos of the house of -Shooter; they prided themselves on their unapproachableness; yet they -could rave about Carpentaria, and openly profess that they were his -slaves. In Carpentaria’s presence they would doubtless have behaved, -even if they did not feel, differently. - -The car whirled them to the other end of the City, and they began -systematically to do everything and to see everything that could be done -and seen, from the captive balloon (not that they did that--they were -content to see it) to the Soudanese native village, from the circus to -the exhibition relating to Woman, from the cricket field to the Freak -Show, and from the Art Galleries to the ladies’ afternoon-tea café. They -were in the ladies’ afternoon-tea café and paying for two pots of tea, -seven cakes, and an extra cream, just as the clock struck five. It then -occurred to them that a concert of military music began at precisely -five o’clock in the Oriental Gardens, and they decided to go and listen -to it, even though, sad to say, Carpentaria never conducted in person -till the evening. - -They crossed the Central Way, and were strolling along the avenue to the -Gardens, when Pauline stopped. - -“Well, I never!” she exclaimed. - -“What is it?” - -Coming down the steps of Ilam’s bungalow was the great Ilam himself, and -it was to Ilam she pointed. - -“What shall we do?” whispered Rosie. “He’s lots older, isn’t he?... And -you said we shouldn’t meet him!” - -They walked on, irresolute and blushing, and just as they arrived -opposite Ilam’s gate, with their eyes gazing studiously straight in -front of them, Ilam called out: - -“Hi, there! Young ladies!” - -Now, the avenue was generously sprinkled with people, but Pauline and -Rosie happened to be the only young ladies within hail, and to have -ignored such a loud and unmistakable appeal as Ilam’s would have drawn -down upon them more public attention than they desired. They therefore -stopped, still blushing, but delightfully blushing, and smiling with -that innate kindliness of heart which distinguished both of them. Rosie -spoke first. She was a woman, and had positively stated that under the -circumstances she should not speak. Hence, naturally, she spoke first. - -“Good afternoon, cousin,” said she. - -In her manner of pronouncing that word “cousin,” a non-committal manner, -a more-than-meets-the-eye manner, a defensive manner--in a word, a -family manner--she indicated a whole family history. When relatives who -are distant in more senses than one meet after a considerable period, -that particular manner is invariably employed by the one who speaks -first. - -The history of the Dartmouths and the Ilams was quite simple--indeed, -so usual as to be hardly worthy of record. Mrs. Dartmouth, mother of -the twins, had been an Ilam. She was the orphan child of Josephus’ dead -uncle, and therefore niece of Josephus’ father. And before her marriage -she was understood to have “expectations” from that mighty and opulent -soda-water manufacturer. However, heedless of these expectations, she -went and married beneath her--to wit, a solicitor’s clerk. The niece of -a rich soda-water manufacturer has no business to marry a solicitor’s -clerk. The result was a complete estrangement. Mrs. Dartmouth gave all -the Ilams to understand that she and her husband had no need of anyone’s -money--that, in fact, they scorned the Ilam millions. Mrs. Dartmouth met -Josephus at his father’s funeral. Ten years later Pauline and Rosie met -Josephus at Mrs. Dartmouth’s funeral. They shook hands formally, and -made it clear to Josephus that they would stoop to accept no gift from -him, who had scorned their mother, even should he offer it. - -That was seven years ago, and Pauline and Rosie were now absolutely -alone in the world, and, moreover, age had taught them tolerance, and -their curiosity had been extremely excited by the news of their cousin’s -partnership with the world-renowned Carpentaria, and the subsequent -birth of the City of Pleasure. So that, in spite of anything they might -have previously said to each other, they were rather pleased to meet -their solemn cousin, who, after all, was a millionaire, and who really -seemed less aloof and stiff than he appeared at funerals. - -“So you were going to cut me?” said Ilam, trying to smile. - -“No, cousin,” said Pauline. “How are you? You don’t look very well.” - -They shook hands over the gate. - -“I’m not,” said Ilam. - -“And Mrs. Ilam. She keeps pretty well, I hope,” put in Rosie decorously. - -“That’s just it. She doesn’t. She’s---- Won’t you come in?” - -And he opened the gate. - -“Do you live here?” cried Rosie. “Fancy living in the middle of -this place! How jolly! And what a jolly house! Oh! what a delicious -notion--living in the show!” - -And they disappeared into the bungalow. - -The historic family coolness looked as if it was going to warm itself -into a sort of pleasant acquaintanceship. - - - - -CHAPTER XV--Proposal of Josephus - -Yes, Ilam was saying when they came downstairs, “she has been like that -since last night, and the doctors--I have had two--assure me that at her -age no recovery is possible. She can take liquid food, and she can move -her eyes slightly--you noticed how her eyes turn?--but otherwise she is -incapable of movement, and, of course, she can’t articulate.” - -He had taken his young relatives upstairs to see his mother, and the -picture of her, lying almost in the attitude of a corpse on the bed, -with a uniformed nurse sitting motionless beside her, had made a deep -impression on Pauline and Rosie. In fact, the whole house saddened -them. It was spacious and luxurious, but it was far from reaching that -standard of splendour which one might reasonably expect from the Ilam -wealth. Ilam did not look like a wealthy man. He did not talk like a -wealthy man, and both girls began to perceive, dimly, that wealth is -useless to those who have not sufficient imagination to employ it. -Certainly the City of Pleasure was an expression of the Ilam riches, but -they knew, as all the world knew, that the imagination which had brought -into being the City of Pleasure was Carpentaria’s. Hence, they felt -sorry for Josephus Ilam, partly because of the calamity to his mother, -and partly because of his forlorn and anxious air; they thought he -wanted looking after, and that this heavy pompous man was greatly to be -pitied, despite his opulence. - -“You haven’t told us how it happened, what caused it?” said Pauline -sympathetically. - -“Oh!” said Ilam, “as to that, who can tell? Probably some fright, some -shock. But we can’t say. She was alone when it happened. And as she -can’t speak--can’t write--can’t---- Well, you see how it is.” - -“We are sorry for you,” murmured Rosie. - -“And here I am, alone as it were,” Ilam continued. “What am I to do? -What can a man do by himself? I’ve got a nurse. I can get fifty nurses, -if necessary. And there are the servants. But what are nurses and -servants? You understand my position, don’t you?” - -“Yes, quite,” said Pauline. - -They were partaking of a second tea in the Ilam drawing-room. The -appetite of Rosie for cakes seemed unimpaired, though she did her -best to hide it, and to pretend that she was only eating cakes out of -politeness. - -Ilam swallowed his tea in great gulps. - -“I’m utterly unnerved,” he said. - -“You must be,” said Rosie kindly. - -“There’s a vast amount of superintendence to do in the City, as you may -guess. But what am I fit for, with my poor old mother lying up -there? You can’t fancy what she was to me. I depended on her for -everything--everything.” - -And then tears showed themselves in the little eyes of Josephus Ilam. -The appearance of those tears in the eyes of a great strong man made -Rosie feel very uncomfortable, so much so, that she was obliged to look -out of the window. - -“I wish we could help you,” said Pauline, after a pause. - -“We’d do anything we could,” said Rosie. - -Ilam glanced up. - -“You can do everything,” he said. “I hesitated to ask you, but since -you’ve mentioned it yourselves... and I’ll make it worth your while. -Rely on that.” - -“But what?” demanded Pauline, startled, while Rosie put down a fresh -piece of cake which she had just taken. - -“Come and live here,” said Ilam bluntly. - -“Both of us?” - -“Both of you.” - -“We couldn’t do that, really,” said Pauline. - -“No, of course not. But wouldn’t it be lovely?” added Rosie. - -“Why couldn’t you?” asked Ilam. “You are your own mistresses, aren’t -you? What is there to prevent you?” - -“Well, you see,” said Pauline judicially, “we have our living to get, -and then there’s our flat, and----” - -“I don’t know how much you earn,” Ilam cried. “But I’ll cheerfully -undertake to give you treble, whatever it is.” - -“That would be five hundred and forty-six pounds a year, then,” said -Rosie, who was specially good at arithmetic. - -“Let us say six hundred,” Ilam amended the figure with a tremendously -casual air. - -The girls felt that, after all, perhaps he resembled a millionaire more -than they had at first thought. - -“Come, now,” Ilam urged. “Say yes. It’s an idea that came to me all of -a sudden, while I was talking to you. But it’s an idea that gets better -and better the more I think about it.” - -“But we couldn’t give up our situations,” objected Pauline. - -“Why not?” Ilam asked. - -“I don’t know,” Pauline stammered. “It seems so queer. It’s so sudden. -What would our duties be here?” - -“Your duties would be to act as mistresses of this house, and to look -after my poor mother. Of course, there’d be a nurse as well. I don’t -know how many servants there are--five or six.” - -“And we should have to manage everything?” said Pauline. - -“Everything domestic. Come, you agree?” - -“But suppose,” interpolated Rosie--“suppose we--you--we didn’t suit -you?” - -What she meant was “Suppose you didn’t suit us?” - -“Come a month on trial,” said Ilam. “At the end of that time, if you -want to leave, I’ll guarantee you a situation quite as good as you’re -leaving. I can’t say fairer than that, can I?” - -There was a pause; the twins looked at each other. - -“Just think how I’m fixed!” pleaded Ilam. - -“What do you say, Rosie?” Pauline asked primly of her sister. - -“Well,” answered Rosie, “as cousin is in such a dilemma, and poor Mrs. -Ilam so--so ill, perhaps----” - -“Good!” exclaimed Ilam; “you agree. Good! I’m very much obliged to you. -You’re two really nice girls, and I can assure you you’ll have a free -hand here.” - -“You decide for us,” said Pauline, smiling and reddening under Ilam’s -appreciation. - -“We’ll begin at once, eh?” said Ilam. “Tonight.” - -“Oh, that’s quite out of the question,” objected Rosie. “We shall be -obliged to give a month’s notice at Shooter’s.” - -“Nonsense!” said Ilam. “I’ll send ‘em a cheque for a month’s salary -instead; then they can’t grumble.” - -“But to-morrow? How will they manage without us?” persisted Rosie. - -Ilam laughed--and it was not often that Ilam laughed. Either the humour -of the thing must have appealed to him very strongly, or it was a -symptom that his spirits had mightily improved. - -“They’ll manage without you,” he said. - -“It’s true they can get substitutes from the Typewriting Exchange,” said -Pauline. - -Thus, it was arranged that Pauline and Rosie should take one of the City -automobiles to their flat, and return with trunks and boxes during -the evening. Before leaving the bungalow Pauline wrote to Shooter’s -informing them of the blow that had fallen on Shooter’s, and Ilam filled -in a cheque, and Rosie put it in the envelope and fastened the envelope. -The automobile, ordered by telephone, came round to the door. - -“You’ll introduce us to Mr. Carpentaria, won’t you?” said Rosie -smilingly, as she was getting into the carriage. - -Ilam frowned, and then cleared his face. - -“Do you want to know him?” he asked. - -“Why, of course!” - -“Very well, I suppose you must,” Ilam agreed. - -“Well, isn’t this the greatest fun?” Rosie whispered to Pauline when -they drove off. “We can go where we like in the City. We can save at -least five hundred a year, and perhaps we shall be his heiresses.” - -“Hush!” Pauline admonished her. - -And three hours later those two extremely practical twins were -thoroughly installed in the Ilam bungalow. They had the air of -having lived there all their lives as they chatted with Ilam in the -drawing-room. Ilam himself was decidedly looking a little better. - -“I have been talking to nurse,” said Pauline importantly, “and I shall -sleep on the couch in Mrs. Ham’s room to-night. Nurse needs rest. She -says there is nothing to do, but some one should be there.” - -“I don’t want you to begin by tiring yourselves,” said Ilam, “but, of -course----” - -They heard a violent ring at the front-door, and presently a servant -entered. Ilam started. - -“Mr. Carpentaria,” said the servant. - -Ilam turned pale. - -“Show him in,” said Rosie calmly to the servant. - -“Yes, Miss Rose,” said the servant, who, in common with the other -servants, had already been clearly informed of the names, position, and -authority of the new-comers. - -“You are to introduce him to us, you know,” Rosie murmured sweetly to -Ilam, “and I suppose we shall have to play hostesses now.” - -Carpentaria came in, evidently hot from his concert. - -“I say, Ilam----” he began. - -Then he perceived the twins, and Ilam clumsily performed the -introductions. The girls were enchanted with his uniform and with him. -He said little, and he was pale, but then he was so distinguished; all -his movements were distinguished and magnificent. - -“We saw you this afternoon,” Rosie ventured timidly. - -“And I didn’t see you! The loss was mine,” he returned, gazing at -Pauline. - -Ilam had sunk back heavily into a chair. Carpentaria caught sight of his -face, and an awkward silence followed. - -“I came on a matter of business,” Carpentaria said to Ilam, “but I won’t -trouble you now, it will do to-morrow. Good-night.” - -“We shall hope to see more of you,” said Rosie when Carpentaria had -demonstrated that he really meant to go. - -“Yes indeed,” said Pauline very quietly, and the visitor bowed. - -And then Carpentaria, that glorious vision, had vanished. - -“Cousin’s nerves are simply all to pieces,” commented Rosie, as the -girls were going upstairs; “even a casual visitor upsets him. Did you -notice his face as soon as the bell rang?” - - - - -CHAPTER XVI--The Box - -Pauline had put the book down on the bed, and was bending over the fire -pulling the coals together with the poker. She performed this homely, -natural, everyday action more to reassure herself, to convince herself -that she was in an everyday world, than because the fire needed -attention. For the strange mystery of the speechless creature on the -bed, helpless as though bound with chains and gagged by the devices of -tortures, had seized and terrified her. She held the poker in the -air and listened. Not a sound save the ticking of the clock on the -mantelpiece! From all the sleeping house, not a sound. She might have -been alone with the living corpse in the house, and yet she knew that -Rosie, and Josephus Ilam, and the nurse, and the halfdozen servants, -were in various rooms of it, perhaps sleeping, perhaps trying to sleep. - -There was a sudden sharp noise behind her, near the bed. - -She started violently and glanced round in fear. It was merely the -book--the harmless and amusing “The Lady or the Tiger?”--which had -slipped from the bed to the floor. Yet how could it have slipped? Had -the paralytic, who was incapable of the slightest movement, after all -twitched a limb and so shaken the book off the bed? Absurd. She had -merely placed the book too close to the edge of the bed; that was all. -Nothing more natural, nothing more probable. Her nervous fright was -grotesque. - -She rose, picked up the book, and looked again at her charge. The -burning, blazing eyes were still dropping tears, and the tears ran in a -deep furrow down either cheek. Softly Pauline wiped them away, her own -eyes moist. The tragedy of the life’s end of this old, old woman, whom -every one had regarded as fierce and formidable, rendered helpless in -a moment by no one knew what horrible visitation, chilled her heart’s -core. - -“What can she want? What is troubling her?” thought Pauline frenziedly. - -And then she imagined that perhaps she had mistaken all the symptoms of -those eyes, and that Mrs. Ilam had wished her to continue to read. -She resumed the book, and read very slowly in a fairly loud voice. And -instantly the eyes began to blink irregularly--fast, then slow--and -the eyeballs themselves moved slightly from side to side. Obviously the -patient was not content. - -Pauline put down the book again in despair. - -The eyeballs still moved slightly to and fro. - -“She wants something in the room. What can it be?”’ said Pauline to -herself. “It may be she is thirsty.” - -She went to the night-table and poured a few drops of water into the -invalid’s cup, and brought it near Mrs. Ilam’s lips. But the eyes seemed -to close as if in refusal, and the face, which could only wear one -expression--that of grief--to deepen its inexpressible melancholy. - -And then an idea occurred to Pauline, and shone on her brow like a -light. - -“Listen,” she said kindly to the aged woman. “I will ask you some -questions. The answers will be only yes or no. If you mean ‘no’ try to -keep your eyelids still, but if you mean ‘yes’ blink them! as much as -you can. Do you understand?” - -The eyelids blinked; and then they continued their terrible entranced -stare at a spot on the ceiling exactly above their owner’s head. - -“Good,” said Pauline. “Are you in pain?” - -No movement of the eyelids. - -“Are you thirsty?” - -A slight flickering, which the patient clearly endeavoured to suppress. - -“You want something?” - -The eyes blinked. - -“Is it some person?” - -The eyelids were steady. - -“Something in this room?” - -A violent blinking. - -“Is it in a drawer?” - -The eyelids were steady. - -“Then I can see it as I stand here?” - -The eyes blinked again. Pauline set the cup down on the night-table, and -gazed round the room. She went to the mantelpiece, and gave a list -of the things on it: candlestick, clock, matches, vases, keys, -medicine-bottle, a piece of crochet work, a long knitting-needle, a -picture post-card. There was no response from the invalid. - -“How foolish I am!” murmured Pauline. “She cannot possibly want any of -these things.” Then she saw a few old letters half-hidden behind the -clock. “Is it there?” she asked, holding the letters near to Mrs. Ilam. - -But there was still no response. She put back the letters and went to -the ottoman, on which was a large family Bible. But it was not the Bible -that Mrs. Ilam wanted, nor a spectacle case that lay on the Bible. Then -Pauline catalogued one by one the contents of the dressing-table, and -then the contents of the washstand, still with no result. At last, she -came to a chest of drawers, covered with a piece of white crewelwork, -and bearing some wax flowers, two small vases, a black lacquered box, -sundry folded linen, several books, and a few faded photographs. She -described the photographs and the linen and the books, as these seemed -to be the most likely objects, and then she came to the lacquered box. -And suddenly, the eyes began to blink furiously. - -“You want this box?” - -The eyes continued to blink. - -She brought it to the bed: It was about eight inches square and three -inches in depth, and beautifully inlaid with mother-of-pearl in a -design to resemble a bunch of roses--just such a little cabinet as our -grandmothers valued, such as was scorned as being Early Victorian during -the aesthetic movement of the eighties and nineties, but such as we -ourselves are beginning to recognize as beautiful. It had prominent -brass hinges, and a keyhole, and it was locked. - -“Do you want me to open it? It’s locked.” - -The eyes were moderately still. - -“Then you wish it put somewhere else?” - -They blinked. - -“In a drawer?” - -No response. - -“On the dressing-table?” - -No response. - -“Near you?” - -The eyes blinked, - -“On the bed?” - -No response. - -“Under the bed?” - -No response. - -Pauline was at a loss. - -“Under your pillow?” she hazarded at length. - -The eyelids moved up and down, if not with joy, at any rate with -satisfaction. - -And very carefully Pauline raised the pillow, and - -Mrs. Ilam’s head, and slipped the box underneath both the pillow and the -bolster. - -“There; is that right?” - -The tragic eyes blinked, and a slight sigh emanated weakly from between -those thin pale lips. But, slight as it was, it seemed to have come from -the innermost depths of the stricken woman’s being. It might have been a -sigh to indicate that her last wish was realized. - -“I shall lie down now,” said Pauline, and turning out all the electric -lights except the tiny table lamp on the table, she stretched herself on -the couch which stood at the foot of the great bed, and she drew a rug -over her and shut her eyes and told herself that she must sleep. But -she could not sleep. Her brain was as busy as the inside of a clock and -electric lights seemed to be burning and fizzing in it, extinguishing -themselves and relighting themselves. What strange house had she and -Rosie wandered into? What was the hidden secret of this paralysis, and -of Josephus Ilam’s worn and worried mien, and of the sudden arrival and -equally sudden departure of Carpentaria? And, above all, what was the -meaning of the old woman’s desire for the box. What was in the box? - -Do not imagine that Pauline regretted having come. She did not. Except -under the passing influences of night and of the presence of illness, -she was not a bit superstitious; nor was Rosie. They were not afraid of -mysteries. They were intensely practical young women, incapable of being -frightened or repulsed by what they did not understand. And that Pauline -was a girl entirely without the timidity of the doe, she abundantly -proved in the next few minutes. As she lay on the couch she could see, -without moving her head, the French window. She fancied that the heavy -crimson curtain was somewhat pulled aside in one place, at a height of -about four feet from the ground, and she fancied that she could see the -end of a finger on the end of the curtain. “No,” she said to herself, -“this is ridiculous. There cannot possibly be a finger there. I must not -be silly,” and she resolutely shut her eyes. The next time she opened -them, the fire had blazed up a little and, more than ever, the something -on the edge of the curtain resembled a finger. - -Her little heart beating, but courageously, she noiselessly rose up from -the couch and approached the window. - -It was the end of a finger on the edge of the curtain--a finger with -a rounded and very white finger-nail I Moreover, the curtain trembled -slightly, as it would do if held by some one who was endeavouring not to -move. Pauline remembered that the French window behind the curtain had -purposely been left slightly open, and that it gave on to a balcony, as -most of the windows of the bungalow did. - -She advanced resolutely, and drew aside the curtain. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII--The Man on the Balcony - -A man was standing behind it. The French window had been opened at -least eight inches, and the man stood partly in the aperture and partly -in the room. He did not flinch. He did not even seem scared, nor yet -disturbed. He was a middle-aged man, with grey hair, and a worn, rather -sad face, and he wore a blue suit of clothes, which showed earth-stains -and other evidences of an exciting and violent life. He was, in fact, -the man whom Ilam had buried, and who described himself to Carpentaria -as Mr. Jetsam. - -“What are you doing here?” demanded Pauline, in a low, brave voice. -“What do you want?” - -She mastered her fear, though her heart was beating madly. She -determined that, just as she had proved equal to difficult situations in -the past, she would prove equal to this one. - -“Now that you have seen me, I want to talk to you,” replied the man. - -“You climbed up by the balcony, didn’t you?” she asked. - -“Yes,” said the intruder. “Nothing more simple. I found a ladder.” - -“Then you had better go as you came--and quickly!” said the girl. - -“And the alternative?” - -“Of course, I must call the master of the house. In any event I shall do -that.” - -“No,” said Mr. Jetsam. “For heaven’s sake don’t call Jos.” - -“Jos!” repeated Pauline, astounded at this familiarity. - -“I said ‘Jos,’” the man insisted firmly. “What do you take me for?” - -“Naturally I take you for a burglar. What else should you be?” - -“Now, do I look like a burglar?” Mr. Jetsam asked severely. “Examine me, -and tell me whether I look like a burglar.” - -“Whatever you are,” said Pauline, in a tone of decision, “I cannot -remain talking to you like this. I am in charge of an invalid here, and -you must go.” - -The man gazed at her fixedly. She thought his eyes were very sad eyes, -and yet dignified, too. They reminded her of the eyes of Mrs. Ilam. And -presently, when they grew moist, they reminded her even more of the eyes -of Mrs. Ilam. - -“Miss Dartmouth,” said the man, “I can easily prove to you that I am not -a burglar.” - -“Then you know me?” - -“I know of you. I know your name. I know you by sight. I know that you -and your sister have come into this stricken and fatal house from sheer -goodness of heart!’ - -“Do not talk like that,” said Pauline, whom any praise, save of her -personal appearance, made extremely uncomfortable. She endeavoured to -make her voice cold, forbidding, and accusatory, but she could not. -The eyes of the grey-haired man seemed to hypnotize her, to rob her of -initiative, and of the power to decide things for herself. - -“I will talk in any manner you like,” returned Mr. Jetsam, “provided you -will let me come into the room and explain to you what I want.” - -“Impossible,” she replied. - -“Why impossible? It is, on the contrary, perfectly easy,” said Mr. -Jetsam. “All I have to do is to close the window”--and he closed it--“to -come into the room”--and he came in--“and to ask you to be good enough -to listen.” - -He put down his felt hat on a chair. - -He now stood within the room, a couple of feet from Pauline, in the -direction of the bed, but with his back to it. - -Pauline, with a sudden sharp movement, darted to the mantelpiece, by -the side of which was the bell-push. In the same instant he, too, darted -forward and clutched her wrist, just as she was about to touch the bell. -They held themselves rigid for a moment, like statues. - -“I understand your feelings,” said Mr. Jetsam in a shaken voice. “I -admire you. But before you ring that bell, let me assure you most -solemnly that if you do ring it you will bring murder into this house. -You will utterly ruin one family, if not two. Believe what I say; you -cannot help but believe it. A man’s character for truthfulness shows -itself in every accent of his voice, and by this time, you must be very -well aware that when I speak, I speak the truth.” - -Pauline moved from the mantelpiece and he loosed her arm. - -“Well?” she said interrogatively. - -She did not know it, but she was breathing very rapidly through her -nose, and her charming nostrils were distended. Still, she probably -noticed the admiration in Mr. Jetsam’s glance. - -“Miss Dartmouth,” he began, and then stopped. - -Simultaneously they both thought of the invalid stretched moveless on -the bed, and Pauline bent over that form. The eyes blinked irregularly, -and always they stared up at the same point of the ceiling. They were -dry, but Pauline noticed traces of tears on the rugged cheeks, and she -wiped them away--it was her mission. - -“Ah!” she murmured. “You can’t advise me what I ought to do.” - -And then she faced Mr. Jetsam once more, still standing by the bed. -The table-lamp, with the crimson silk shade, and the bright fire gave -sufficient light. - -“Miss Dartmouth,” Mr. Jetsam recommenced, “a great crime was committed -long ago in the Ilam family, one of the most cruel crimes conceivable. -It can never be atoned for in full, or nearly in full: but, even now, -after many, many years, it can be partially atoned for.” - -“Who committed this crime? and what was it? Murder?” gasped Pauline in a -breath. - -“I cannot be sure who committed it,” replied the man; “and it was not -murder. It was worse than murder.” - -“How do you know it was worse than murder? How does it concern you?” - -“I was the victim,” said the man quietly. And then he raised his voice -and repeated: “I was the victim. I am the victim.” - -“Hush!” she warned him. “Not so loud.” - -He turned to the bed with a strange expression on his face. - -“Why not so loud?” he demanded. “She can hear, even if we speak in a -whisper. She has heard everything, and she can do nothing.” - -He spoke bitterly, and held a pointing finger at the old woman. And her -eyes remained ever fixed, blinking irregularly, regardless of the two -beings near her. - -“You are cruel,” said Pauline. “You torture her.” - -“Far from being cruel,” said Mr. Jetsam, “I am kind. Justice is always -kind, for it alone produces peace, and peace alone produces happiness.” - -“You would not talk like that if you had ever been happy,” said Pauline. - -“If I have not been happy, it is because justice has been denied me. If -this old woman and her son have never been happy it is because they have -denied me justice. But justice may now be done, and you yourself may be -the first instrument of it.” - -“Tell me how,” said Pauline. - -“You will be the blind instrument,” he said. - -“Tell me how,” Pauline repeated. - -“I have been watching a long time at that window,” said the man, always -with the utmost respect--“and what I saw convinces me that you know more -of this affair than you care to seem to know.” - -“What do you mean?” demanded the girl defiantly. - -“Well,” said Mr. Jetsam, “Mrs. Ilam cannot talk, cannot give -instructions of any kind. Yet I saw you take a particular box from off -the chest of drawers, and hide it under the invalid’s pillow. In order -to hide it, you actually disturbed the invalid. You lifted her head to -enable you to conceal the box in the bed beneath it. That is strange, -Miss Dartmouth. But I have no desire to pry into your secrets. You are a -friend of the family, nay more, a relative, and you had the right to do -all that you have done. But let me tell you at once that I have come -in search of precisely that box. I hoped to get it while everybody was -asleep; but I was prepared for emergencies. If your cousin Ilam had -been here in your place I should have obtained possession of it without -asking his leave. But you--well, I humbly ask you to give it to me.” - -Pauline gazed at the poor organism on the bed. - -“Is he to have the box?” she asked. “Is he to have the box, Mrs. Ilam?” - -The staring, sad eyes did not move. There was not the slightest flutter -of the lids. - -“Why do you put questions to her?” asked Mr. Jetsam moodily. - -“She means that you are not to have the box,” said Pauline, and then she -addressed Mrs. Ilam anew. “You mean that he is to go away without the -box?” - -The eyelids wavered and then blinked rapidly. - -“That means ‘Yes.’ You must now go--at once. I have listened to you too -long,” said Pauline. - -“It is impossible that you should refuse me,” argued the man. -“Impossible! I don’t suppose that motion of the eyelids means anything, -but even if it did, naturally she does not want me to have the box. -Still, I must have it. Miss Dartmouth, everything depends on my -obtaining that box. Its contents are essential to the bringing about of -justice. I entreat you most urgently and most solemnly to give it to me. -You cannot doubt my sincerity.” - -“I will admit frankly,” answered Pauline, “that I do not doubt your -sincerity. But, all the same, you cannot have that box--at least from my -hands. It belongs to Mrs. Ilam; she evidently treasures it highly. I put -it under her pillow to satisfy her. Mrs. Ilam is helpless, and I am in -charge of her. You must go, I repeat--and at once. We have talked too -much.” - -“Suppose I take it by force?” suggested the man. - -“You would never dare,” said Pauline angrily, and she rushed again to -the bell. “If you attempt to take it I will ring the bell, and I will -hold you till some one comes, even if I die for it.” - -“Mad creature!” he exclaimed acidly. “I could kill you. It is almost -worth while; but I won’t. You tell me to go, and I go; but my resources -are not yet exhausted. Good-night. I can’t leave without expressing the -opinion that you’ve got both sense and grit, and plenty of both. But -you’ve made a mistake to-night. Good-bye.” - -And while she stood with her hand on the bell-push Mr. Jetsam passed -very calmly out of the window, and the curtain fell in front of him and -hid him. - -It was the most curious adventure of Pauline’s life, which, indeed, had -hitherto been entirely free from the unusual and the mysterious. After -a short period of hesitation she went to the window, drew aside the -curtain boldly, and looked out into the night of the City. There was no -sign of her late visitor, but the ladder rested against the balcony, -a proof of his recent presence; otherwise, she might have persuaded -herself that what she had been through was a dream. She shut the window -and bolted it, and came back into the room. The old woman, with her dark -burning eyes staring always at the same spot on the ceiling, seemed now -somewhat easier. Pauline gazed at her, and, after having stirred the -fire, lay down again on the couch. - -And as she closed her eyes, the strange enigma of Mrs. Ilam and her son -and the nocturnal visitant filled her mind with distracting and futile -thoughts. Who was this grey-haired man, at once so masterful, so -dignified, and so desperate? What could be the justice that he demanded? -what the contents of the lacquered box? She would have a real good talk -with Rosie in the morning. That prospect comforted her. Rosie--Rosie---- -Suddenly she started, and gradually she perceived that she had been -asleep a long time--two hours, perhaps--and that something, some -presence, had wakened her. Looking round, she noticed that the door, -which had been closed, was now open. - -She jumped up and went out of the room to the passage, but she could -neither see nor hear anything. Then, as her eyes became accustomed to -the obscurity, she detected a very faint, thin pencil of light at the -other end of the passage, and on approaching it she found that it came -from her sister’s room. She crept forward, pushed open the door and went -in. Rosie, fully dressed, was sitting on a chair near the window, which -was not quite closed, and her face was hidden in her hands, and she -appeared to be crying. - -“Rosie,” exclaimed Pauline, “whatever’s the matter? Why aren’t you in -bed and asleep?” - -And Rosie subsided into her sister’s arms, weeping violently. - -“I haven’t been to bed at all,” she said at last. “I’ve never slept in -a room with a balcony before, and I couldn’t resist going out on to this -balcony to see how beautiful the night was. And I began to think what a -splendid time we were having, and I watched the stars, and I heard -the clock strike in the tower over there, and the gardens looked so -beautiful in the starlight, and a long, long time must have passed. And -then I saw a man standing under my window. He was a man dressed in blue, -with grey hair, and he began to talk to me.” - -“And why didn’t you tell him to go away, my dear?” - -“He seemed so sad, and he said such interesting things. Pauline, -darling, there’s something very, very wrong in this house--some mystery! -He told me. No one could help believing what he says, and he has such a -beautiful voice. I cried, almost, in listening to him.” - -“But who was he?” - -“I think he must be some relative,” said Rosie. “I think so. He didn’t -say. What he did say was that there was a black box which it was -absolutely necessary he must have. Oh, Pauline, I’m sure he isn’t a -thief! He’s a man who has suffered a great deal, and he asked me to get -the box for him, and his face was so sad--well, I said I would. And he -told me exactly where it was.” - -“Where did he say it was?” - -“He said it was under Mrs. Ilam’s pillow; and it was, true enough.” - -“How do you know?” cried Pauline, aghast. - -“I crept into your room, and lifted Mrs. Ilam’s head, and took the box. -You were fast asleep. He asked me to see if you were asleep, and, if you -were, not to wake you. So I came as quietly as a mouse.” - -“And you obeyed him like that?” murmured Pauline, astounded. - -“I couldn’t help it. I felt so sorry for him. And his voice was so----” - -“Rosie!” said Pauline. “You used to be sensible enough!” - -“I couldn’t help it!” moaned Rosie again. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII--An Arrangement for a Marriage - -Juliette D’Avray had a small sitting-room of her own in the Carpentaria -bungalow. It was on the first floor, and it looked west, whereas -Carpentaria’s study and bedroom both looked north, on the avenue. Three -days after the affair of the black box, Carpentaria ran hastily up -the stairs of his house and touched the knob of the door of Juliette’s -sitting-room, and then he drew back his hand, nervous and hesitant. He -was evidently perturbed, and he pulled his fine beard in a series of -quick twitches, and then he rapped smartly on the door and coughed. - -“Juliette!” he cried. He was very much surprised to discover that he -had not got complete control of his voice. It broke in the middle of his -half-sister’s name. “I must do better than this,” he thought, trying to -command himself. - -There was a pause. - -“Juliette!” he cried again, more firmly. - -The word was scarcely out of his mouth when the door opened wide, and -Juliette stood before him. They gazed at each other for a fraction of a -second, as if inimically. - -“Why don’t you come in, Carlos?” she murmured softly, and her eyes fell, -“instead of knocking and making such a noise. What’s the matter?” - -Carpentaria was certainly astonished at the nature and tone of her -remark. She seemed to wish to run away. Then he gathered himself -together, with an immense show of force, as a man will when confronted -by a woman who is helpless before him, but of whom he is afraid. - -“I don’t want to come in,” he said. - -“Why?” she demanded. - -“You know why,” he said. - -“Indeed I don’t,” she asserted; and she laughed--a curt laugh. - -“You promised me you wouldn’t see Ilam again at present,” said -Carpentaria stoutly. - -Juliette tossed ever so little her charming head, with its admirable -coiffure. - -“I did,” she admitted. - -“Well,” said Carpentaria, “he is at this moment in the sitting-room.” - -Juliette’s dainty nostrils began to dilate. - -“Carlos,” she said disdainfully, “do you know what you are saying? To -me! Mr. Ilam is not here. I have already asked you to come in!” - -“Yes,” said Carpentaria, “but you don’t make way for me. You keep well -in the doorway, Juliette!” - -She moved aside with a gesture of the finest feminine scorn. - -“Is there space for you to enter?” she said, bitterly sarcastic. - -Carpentaria stepped forward one pace. His foot was on the door-mat. - -“Stop a moment, Carlos,” she said warningly, lifting her arm. “I repeat -that Mr. Ilam is not here. I cannot imagine what put the idea into your -head. But whatever put it in, let me advise you to put it out again at -once. Under the circumstances, if you come into this room, now that -I have distinctly told you that Mr. Ilam is not here, it will be -equivalent to calling me a liar. I could not suffer that, even from you, -Carlos. I should leave you. We should quarrel for ever. Think what you -are doing.” - -Tears stood in her eyes. - -Carpentaria shuffled his feet in an agony of uncertainty. - -“Come in if you doubt me,” Juliette continued. “But if you do, it will -be the end.” - -Carpentaria turned slowly away, and passed down the corridor. - -“Of course I don’t doubt you,” he called out. - -Juliette made no response. She waited till her half-brother had -descended the stairs, then she shut the door quietly, and ran to the -Louis Quinze sofa, with its gilded borders, that stood a little way from -the window. - -“You can come out,” she whispered. - -And from behind the sofa emerged the bulky form of Josephus Ilam. - -“Great heavens!” he muttered, searching in his pocket for a -handkerchief. - -Juliette sat down on a chair and burst into tears. The contrast between -their two handkerchiefs--Ham’s enormous, like himself, and Juliette’s a -fragment of lace no larger than a piece of bread-and-butter--was one of -those trifles which put an edge of the comical on the tragic stuff of -life. - -“You are an astounding woman!” exclaimed Ilam, wiping his brow. - -“I have lied to him--I have deceived him. You heard what I said?” - whimpered Juliette. - -“You behaved superbly,” said Ilam. - -“I behaved shamefully,” said the woman. “But I did it for you!” - -And she looked at him over her handkerchief, with wet eyelashes. - -Ilam would have gone through unutterable torture for her in that -moment. It was a highly strange thing--this late coming of love into the -existence of Josephus Ilam. It transformed him. It made him feel that, -at fifty, he was only just beginning to grasp the meaning of life. It -made him see that hitherto his days and his years had been wasted on -vain things, and that the only commodity really worth having in this -world was such a look as Juliette gave him out of her impassioned -eyes. He could not understand what so bewitching and lively a woman as -Juliette could see in a heavy, gloomy fellow like him. For the matter -of that, probably no other person, save only Juliette, could understand -that mystery. But then, when a woman loves a man, she sees him in a -radiance shed from her own soul, and it changes him. - -“My poor friend,” said Juliette, composing herself, “why do you put -me in such an awkward position, coming upstairs like this, and in the -middle of the day, too? You must have bribed one of the servants.” - -“I did,” said Ilam. - -“Well, don’t tell me which,” Juliette put in quickly. - -He bent down and kissed her. Yes, this heavy and rather creaky person, -who had laughed at love for several decades, bent down and kissed a -pretty woman sitting on a Louis Quinze sofa; moreover, he put his arms -round her. He did it clumsily, of course, but Juliette did not think so. - -“I was obliged to see you,” he told her. “I couldn’t go without seeing -you. Why have you so persistently kept out of my way? You were so kind -that morning--when Carpentaria surprised you. Has he been bullying you?” - -“Ah!” exclaimed Juliette, suddenly excited. “I cannot tell you what he -said to me. You know I love him best in the world--next to--you. But he -said such things to me--such things!” - -“He said--oh, my dearest!--he said his life was not safe--he said no -one’s life was safe in this City--he said he had been shot at in the -bandstand; and, you know, that business of the milk was dreadful. The -strange thing is that Carlos won’t consult the police about it.” - -“But how does this affect us--affect you and me?” demanded Ilam -bravely. - -“Dearest,” said Juliette, “poor Carlos thinks--he actually thinks----” - -“That I am trying to kill him?” - -“He thinks you have something to do with it.” - -“But why? Why should I want to kill your brother--your brother?” - -“Yes, indeed!” agreed Juliette. “And why should you want to kill -anybody’s brother?” she added. - -“Of course,” he said hastily. “Why should I want to kill any person at -all?” - -“Carlos says that he is not the only person you have tried to kill.” - -“Ha! And who is the other? Give me the full catalogue.” - -“I don’t know. He says you have buried a man in the grounds, and that he -saw you do it.” - -“Juliette!” Ilam stepped backwards. Then he stopped. “Juliette,” he -repeated, “I swear to you most solemnly that I have never tried to kill -anyone.” - -“Dearest, you shouldn’t have said that!” she remonstrated. “You -shouldn’t have sworn to me. It is an insult to my love. Do you imagine -that I believed Carlos for a single instant? Do you imagine it?” - -She looked at him proudly, gloriously. - -“How splendid you are!” muttered Josephus Ilam, son of the soda-water -manufacturer. The admiration was drawn out of him. He had not guessed -that women could be so fine. And then he perceived that he, too, must -be splendid, that he must be worthy of her; and so he proceeded: -“Nevertheless, it is true that I did bury a man in the grounds a few -nights ago.” - -The perspiration stood afresh on his brow as he made the confession. - -“You!” she murmured. - -“I thought he was dead,” said Ilam, speaking quickly. “I thought I -should be accused of his murder. And so I--the fact is, I was mad. I was -off my head. I must have been. Until yesterday I actually fancied I was -being haunted by his ghost. Yes! me! me--thinking a thing like that! But -I did; and yesterday I was in that big crush, during the shower, in the -Court of the Exposition Palace, and he, too, was in the crowd. I saw -him; I touched him; he didn’t see me, thank Heaven! Then I knew that -what I had buried was not a corpse.” - -“Who is this man?” asked Juliette calmly. - -“My angel!” said Ilam, driven to poetry by the stress of his emotion, -“you mustn’t inquire; there are some things I can’t tell you--at least, -not yet. When we are married, when matters are settled a bit, I will -tell you everything, but not now.” - -“Why not now?” she persisted. - -“Look here,” he said, “if you persist I shall simply go and kill -myself.” - -She paused. - -“My friend,” she resumed, “you do not love me as much as I love you. The -measure of love is trust, and you do not trust me completely.” - -“I love you in my way,” said Ilam doggedly; “men are not like women.” - -“That is true,” she admitted philosophically. - -“I would tell you everything if I was free to do so,” he said. - -“Dearest”--she addressed him in quite a new tone--“you know something -about those attacks on Carlos’ life.” - -She spoke with an air of absolute certainty. - -“I have had nothing to do with them,” he said. - -“But you know something about them.” - -“Why do you think so?” - -“I can tell from your manner,” she said triumphantly. - -“I know nothing for certain, nothing precise,” said Ilam--“nothing that -I can tell you--nothing that I dare tell you.” - -“Dearest,” she remarked, with a faint acidity, “it seems to me that you -have come here to-day in order not to tell me things.” - -He deprecated her tone with an appealing gesture. - -“I can tell you, at any rate, this,” he said, “that your brother’s life -is no longer in danger--of that I am sure.” - -“You are atoning,” she smiled. - -“Which is more than can be said of my life,” Ilam proceeded, not heeding -her smile. - -“Your life is in danger?” she questioned, rushing to him as though she -would protect him. - -Ilam, without a word, led her to the window, from the corner of which a -glimpse of the avenue could be caught, and walking to and fro there in -the avenue was the Soudanese. - -“You see that man?” said Ilam. “It’s the fellow they call ‘Spats’ in -the native village. I don’t know why. He is devoted to me; he is fully -armed; he follows me everywhere. I have only to blow this whistle”--and -Ilam produced a whistle from his pocket. - -“Darling”--and Juliette clung to him--“is it so bad as that? Who is it -that threatens you?” - -“The man that I buried,” said Ilam quietly. - -“But what are you going to do?” - -“Well,” said Ilam, “I’m come here to see you. We must get your brother -on our side.” - -“I’ll force him to understand at once,” cried Juliette. - -“No,” said Ilam, “perhaps you would fail, as things are, but if you were -my wife, you would not fail then. Carpentaria, once the thing was done, -would do everything in his power to protect your husband; he likes -you well enough for that. He might be angry at first, but he would see -reason.” - -“Dearest, you want me to marry you secretly?” - -“I merely want you to go with me to the registry office at Putney.” - -“Is that what you came for?” - -“That is what I came for.” - -“My love!” she murmured. - -Yet, with that cold and penetrating insight which women have, she saw -clearly that, though Ilam’s idea of getting Carpentaria’s assistance in -a moment of grave danger was doubtless quite serious, it was somewhat -fanciful, and that Ilam’s professed reason for their instant marriage -was also fanciful, and was not a real reason, but only an excuse. He -merely wanted to marry her at once, that was all, and although his life -was threatened, he thought little of that. She loved him the more. - -“I can make the arrangements pretty quick,” said Ilam. “You will agree, -my angel?” - -And she nodded, and the compact was sealed. They heard a scurrying in -the passages of the house. - -“Juliette! Juliette!” - -It was Carpentaria’s voice, and other voices mingled with it -indistinctly--the voices of the servants. “Yes!” she answered loudly -and, whispering to Ilam, “Get out of the window; whistle softly for your -Soudanese. You can get on to the roof of the outhouse. He will help -you.” - -And noiselessly she opened the window, and Ilam, struck by her -tremendous resourcefulness, passed out. She heard his low whistle, and -then she ran to the door and into the passage. - -“The house is on fire,” said Carpentaria, meeting her. - -“Is it?” she answered calmly. “Are the firemen come? where’s the -fire?”--She sniffed--“Yes,” she said, “I can smell it.” - -She was amazingly calm. “No woman with a man concealed in her -sitting-room,” said Carpentaria to himself, “could behave so calmly upon -being informed that the house was on fire. Her first thought would have -been to secure the hidden man’s safety.” And Carpentaria ran downstairs -with a great show of activity. He was baffled, disappointed, for he had -deliberately set fire to his own house in order to drive Ilam from the -sitting-room, where he felt sure Ilam was. And the trick had failed. -After all, he had been mistaken. He had been convinced of his sister’s -deception, and lo! she had not deceived him. Carpentaria could have -killed himself. - -Happily the fire was of no importance, and it was extinguished before it -had done more than about five pounds’ worth of damage and alarmed more -than about five thousand visitors to the City. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX--The Heart of the City - -The situation of the heart of the City was one of the secrets of the -City. It was not located, perhaps, exactly where you might have expected -it to be, and for a very good reason. The magnificent building which -housed the managerial, clerical, and inspectorial staff of the City was -near the south end of the Central Way. It comprised four floors, and -more than a hundred clerks spent seven hours a day there. On the first -floor was the President’s Parlour, where Ilam held consultations with -Carpentaria and with the heads of departments, from the department of -catering to the department of road-cleaning. On the floor above was the -Manager’s and Musical Director’s Parlour, where the august Carpentaria -held consultations with Ilam and with the heads of other departments, -from that of music, with its subsections (a) open-air bands, (b) theatre -and other bands, (c) restaurant bands, (d) vocal music, (e) pianolas, -gramophones, and mechanical orchestras, to the procession and fêtes -department. But the heart of the City was nowhere in this building. - -There were also scattered about the immense grounds, various other -executive buildings of a smaller size, where sectional managers, -viceroys of Ilam and Carpentaria, held their mimic sway. But the heart -of the City was not in any of these, either. - -Very few persons, even among those on the salary-list of the City, did -know where the heart was; for it was not talked about. Talking about it -was discouraged; the hearts of such places are never talked about. And -it is a most singular thing that visitors to the City scarcely gave a -thought to the question of the situation of the heart of the City. The -most interesting of all the many secrets of the City seldom aroused -public curiosity, so strange is the public. - -The heart of the City, as I propose to reveal, was situated beneath the -Storytellers’ Hall, near the northern end of the Central Way, on -your left hand as you passed down from the north entrance-gates. The -Storytellers’ Hall was an invention of Carpentaria’s--one of his best. -Between two o’clock and four, between five o’clock and seven, and -between half-past eight and closing-time you could pay sixpence to go -into the Storytellers’ Hall and listen to a succession of American and -Irish and English performers, whose sole business it was to sit in -an armchair on the diminutive stage and tell funny stories. The -entertainment consisted in nothing else. It was the simplest thing in -the world, and yet one of the completest successes of the City. It was -a success from the very first hour of its existence. The little hall was -nearly always crowded, chiefly by men. One is bound to admit that women -were not enchanted by it; either they laughed in the wrong places, or -they turned to their husbands, sweethearts, uncles, nephews, at the end -of the story, and asked if that really was the end of the story, and, -if it was, would their husbands, sweethearts, uncles, nephews kindly -explain the joke to them. - -Well, the heart of the City was beneath that gay and mirthful structure. -While storytellers told stories above the level of the ground, the most -serious business of the City was being transacted a few feet away, below -the level of the ground. Let me explain. - -Take an average intelligent visitor to the City. He approaches, say, the -northern entrance, and among the twenty patent turnstiles which confront -him he chooses the nearest one that is empty. He puts a shilling on -the iron table of the turnstile; an official in the livery of the City -scrutinizes the coin to make sure that it is what it pretends to be, -and then pushes it down a little hole. The shilling disappears--not only -from the sight, but from the thoughts of the visitor. - -It is a highly remarkable fact--as he squeezes through the turnstile he -actually forgets all about his shilling, forgets it for evermore! - -Yet shillings are being poured in a continuous stream into the mouth of -that turnstile and into the mouths of scores of similar turnstiles, all -day. What becomes of them? Surely this question ought to interest the -average intelligent visitor! What becomes of them? The turnstiles won’t -hold an unlimited number of shillings; nevertheless, shillings are -falling into them eternally and they are never emptied; they are -never even moved; they could not be moved, since they are imbedded in -concrete. Here _is_ a puzzle for the average intelligent visitor. - -It will occur to anyone that when four hundred thousand people have each -paid a shilling entrance, quite a nice little lot of money must have -accumulated somewhere in the City by nightfall; for, besides the -entrance shillings, there is the vast expenditure of the visitors after -they have entered. - -The nice little bit of money runs to the heart of the City. That is what -the heart of the City is for; that is why it is called the heart. - -Now, the heart was a long, wide, and low apartment, lighted by -electricity, and lined with concrete. In the centre, its top level with -the floor, was a huge safe, which by hydraulic power could be raised -till its top was nearly level with the ceiling, and its doors bared to -the persuasions of keys. Round about were large wooden tables, furnished -with large and small balances, copper scoops, bags, and steel coffers. A -few chairs completed the apparatus of the apartment. - -The shillings of the clients of the City dropped through the mouths of -the turnstiles right down to a small subterranean chamber, which could -only be reached from a tunnel beneath each entrance. Thus, the officials -in charge of the turnstiles had no control whatever over the coins once -they had been slipped into the orifices. The coins were checked and -collected by an entirely separate set of officials, who visited the -underground chambers every three hours and brought back the booty, -enclosed in coffers, in specially constructed insignificant-looking -carriages, to the solitary door of the heart. And the door of the heart -was by no means in the Central Way; it gave on a back entry running -parallel to the Way and just wide enough to permit the passage of one -carriage. The coffers were received, and receipted for, by an official -of the heart, and handed by him into the interior. Neither he nor the -collectors were ever allowed to enter the heart. - -On the evening of the day of the secret interview between Juliette and -Ilam, the inconspicuous door of the heart was guarded, not by its usual -official, but by a tall Soudanese, and waiting close to him was an -automobile with chauffeur on board. The automobile was one of several -employed specially to transport the riches of the City to the head -offices of the London and West-End Bank in King William Street. The -journeys were made at night, twice a week, and the offices of the London -and West-End were specially opened to receive the coin. Automobiles -laden with vast wealth are less apt to be remarked when they travel at -night. - -Within the heart itself were three people--Ilam; a middle-aged man named -Gloucester, who spent all his days in counting and weighing gold and -silver, and who was the presiding genius of the heart; and, thirdly, a -clerk from the London and West-End Bank. - -Gloucester was weighing sovereigns, the clerk was counting coffers and -piling them up in a corner near the door, and Ilam was idly inspecting -the doors of the huge safe, which had been raised out of its well and -stood open and empty. - -During that day and the previous two days, what with a monster Y.M.C.A. -fête then in progress, and what with the weather, over a million -shillings had been taken at the turnstiles. Now, a new shilling weighs -eighty-seven grains, and about seven thousand average current shillings -go to the hundredweight. A million shillings, or fifty thousand pounds -in silver, will weigh, therefore, something like seven tons. Nearly -the whole of this treasure had already started on its way to the famous -vaults of the London and West-End Bank; only a few coffers remained. But -there was, in addition, about ten thousand pounds in gold, which weighed -about a couple of hundredweight, and it was chiefly for this gold that -the last automobile was waiting. - -“Seven coffers of silver, Mr. Gloucester,” said the clerk; “two of -gold.” - -“I shall be ready with the others in a few minutes,” replied Mr. -Gloucester. - -“Then I’ll be making out the check-sheets,” said the clerk. - -“Do so,” said Mr. Gloucester, who was a formal old person, and wore -steel-rimmed spectacles. And he continued his weighing of the gold. - -At this interesting and dazzling juncture, the unique door of the -apartment, an affair of solid Bessemer steel, swung slowly on its -hinges, and disclosed the figure of a man in a blue suit, with grey hair -under his soft hat. Mr. Gloucester, being just a little short-sighted -and just a little hard of hearing, neither saw nor heard the visitor. -Nor did Mr. Ilam, who was actually within the safe, measuring -its-shelves. But the bank-clerk, who was quite close to the door, most -decidedly did see the man. And the clerk started, whether with fear, -surprise, or mere nervousness, will probably never be known. - -The man shut the door. - -“What----” began the clerk. - -“Go to the other end of the room,” said the man commandingly. - -“Mr. Ilam!” the clerk called out respectfully, alarmed. - -“Go to the other end of the room,” repeated the man.’ - -The clerk perceived then that he had a revolver. Mr. Gloucester also -perceived the man and his revolver, and Mr. Ilam came out of the safe -rather like a jack out of a box. - - - - -CHAPTER XX--What Jetsam Wanted - - -Hullo, Jos! said the intruder in a light, careless and rather scornful -tone. - -It was a stroke of genius on his part to address Mr. Ilam as “Jos.” That -curt and familiar monosyllable, directed like a bullet at the formidable -Ilam, the august President of the City, made such an impression upon -both Mr. Gloucester and the L. and W. E. Bank-clerk that they took -no part whatever in the immediately subsequent proceedings. They were -astounded into silence. They trembled lest lightning should descend and -utterly destroy the intruder. - -And Ilam himself was plainly at a loss. He was about to say to the -intruder: “You have no right to speak to me in such a way,” and to order -him out of the place, when the ridiculousness of protesting and the -futility of ordering presented themselves vividly to his mind. - -Besides, there was the revolver. - -So Mr. Ilam said merely, in a sort of pained surprise: - -“Jetsam!” - -“Exactly,” said Jetsam. - -And the imperturbable fellow, with his grey hair and his shabby suit -and his weary eyes, nonchalantly sat down on the edge of one of the -counting-tables, his legs dangling, and his body leaning forward. - -The two employés were by this time convinced that the new-comer must be -either the Shah of Persia in disguise, or else some extremely intimate -and life-long friend of Ilam’s, perhaps richer than Ilam himself. The -bank-clerk knew by sight several chairmen of banks who were quite as -badly dressed as the man on the table. Nevertheless, they did not carry -revolvers. The revolver was certainly rather disquieting. However, they -bent to their work, as though both eyes of the Recording Angel were upon -them. - -Ilam closed the door of the safe. - -“The doorkeeper let you pass?” he ventured. - -“No, not at all,” replied Jetsam. - -“He isn’t at his post?” - -“Not just at the moment. I’ve had him removed for a bit. He’ll doubtless -return as soon as I’ve gone. I thought it would be simpler to have my -own doorkeeper.” - -“What did the Soudanese say, though?” - -“Which Soudanese?” - -“The Soudanese who is outside the door.” - -“Oh, him? He didn’t say anything.” - -“This is a serious breach of rules for you to be here, you know,” said -Ilam. “And I must ask you to go.” - -“I really can’t go just yet,” said Jetsam. - -“What are you doing here?” - -“Nothing,” said Jetsam; “except nursing this revolver. I’m going to do -something soon.” - -Both the bank-clerk and Mr. Gloucester looked up. They even went so -far as to glance at their employer for instructions; but their employer -seemed to avoid the eyes of the underlings. Then Mr. Gloucester spoke -in a low tone to the clerk, and the clerk replied, and some bags of gold -were bundled into a coffer and the coffer locked and double-locked, and -the bank-clerk murmured respectfully: - -“These are the lot, sir. Shall I take them and go?” - -“Yes,” said Ilam. - -“Will you help me?” said the clerk to Mr. Gloucester. - -“Yes,” said Mr. Gloucester. - -And Mr. Gloucester and the clerk each picked up several coffers. - -“Good-night, sir,” said the clerk. - -“Good-night,” said Ilam. - -“Stop that!” Jetsam exclaimed, turning his head slowly behind him to -follow the movements of the pair. - -“I beg pardon?” murmured the clerk interrogatively. - -“I thought I told you to go to the other end of the room,” thundered -Jetsam. - -“But Mr. Ilam----” - -“Go to the other end of the room, up there at that corner,” Jetsam -commanded sternly, adding, “or I’ll blow your idiotic brains out! Do you -hear?” - -The clerk was in love with a girl who lived with her mother in a pretty -little semi-detached villa at Weybridge. He thought of her; he thought -of all the evenings he had spent with her; he conjured her up in all her -different dresses; he heard her voice in all its tones--and all this -in the fraction of a second. Then he put down the boxes and discreetly -betook himself to the corner indicated by Mr. Jetsam, thinking obscurely -and slangily that to be a bank-clerk was not all jam. - -“And you, too!” ordered Jetsam, raising a finger to Mr. Gloucester. - -Mr. Gloucester was not in love with a charming young thing at Weybridge. -He never had been in love; he had never lived with anyone except -himself and a bull-terrier; but he was fond of playing chess at night at -Simpson’s; and he suddenly saw Simpson’s and the chess-boards, and -the foamy quart, and the bull-terrier lying under the table. Life and -Simpson’s seemed infinitely precious to him in those instants. And he -put down his boxes and followed the bank-clerk to the suggested corner. - -“I must really----” he began protestingly. - -“Silence!” exploded Mr. Jetsam; and there was silence. - -You must picture the large, low room, with its concrete lining and its -half-dozen sixteen candle-power electric lights burning in the ceiling; -and underneath these lights the four men--Ilam leaning against -the gigantic safe which rose out of the floor in the middle of the -apartment; Jetsam still nonchalantly swinging his legs as he sat on -the table, facing him directly; and the democracy, somewhat scared and -undecided, in a corner. Jetsam had his back to the door, and since the -two piles of coffers were near the door they were out of his field of -vision. - -Jetsam winked at Ilam--deliberately winked at him. - -“Simple as a, b, c, isn’t it?” he pleasantly remarked. - -“What?” demanded Ilam. - -“What I’m doing now--holding up a strong room and its staff.” - -“You’ll suffer for this,” said Ilam. - -“That remains to be seen,” was the reply. “I gravely doubt if I shall -suffer for it. Up to now, what have I done? I have asked those gentlemen -to go into a corner and not to indulge in desultory and disturbing -conversation; and they have been good enough to humour my caprice; and I -have winked at you, Jos. Is there anything illegal in winking at you? A -few days ago you did more than wink at me--you nearly killed me!” - -“I must go,” said Ilam. “I have an appointment--I----” - -He moved slightly. - -“Let me advise you not to move,” Jetsam warned him, raising the revolver -an inch or so. “It mightn’t be very good for your constitution. You must -grasp, the fact that you are being held up. A worn-out operation, you -will say--a trick lacking in novelty! Yes; but one, nevertheless, based -on the fundamental human instincts, and therefore pretty certain to -succeed. Indeed, I am surprised how simple it is. You might fancy from -my easy bearing that I had devoted a lifetime to holding people up. Not -in the least. I have never held anyone up before. And yet, how well I am -succeeding! The thing works like a charm; merely because you can see in -my eye that I mean to be obeyed.” - -“I suppose you want money?” said Ilam savagely. - -“I don’t want impudence!” retorted Jetsam. “Apologize, if you please, my -friend!” - -“What have I said?” - -“It isn’t what you said--it’s your manner of saying it that was unworthy -of you. You mean to apologize for wounding my feelings, don’t you?” - Jetsam smiled. “No, don’t move; merely express your regret!” - -“I’m sorry,” muttered Ilam. - -“There--you see!” cried Jetsam to the men in the corner. “Let that be -a lesson to you. And remember, that only great men like Mr. Ilam have -sufficient moral force, when they are in the wrong, to admit the fact. -Well, Jos, I accept your apology in the cheerful and generous spirit in -which you offer it; and I shall not deny that I do want money. That is -part of what I came for.” - -“How much do you want?” asked Ilam. - -“Well,” said Jetsam. “How much have you got handy?” - -Mr. Ilam intimated that there was a small sum in gold. - -“A thousand in gold?” queried Jetsam. - -Ilam nodded. - -“Probably more,” Jetsam commented. “But a thousand will suffice me. If -I need a fresh supply I can always come again, can’t I? And besides, all -that is yours is mine, eh?” - -Ilam maintained silence. - -“Eh?” repeated Jetsam persuasively. - -“Yes,” growled Ilam, and his eye caught the eye of the young bank-clerk -by pure accident. - -At that moment the young bank-clerk, fired by martial valour, a thirst -for glory, and the thought of what a splendid thrilling tale he would -have to tell to the charming young thing at Weybridge, sprang furiously -forward in the direction of Jetsam. - -“Stop!” said Jetsam, slipping off the table and facing the youth, -revolver ready. - -The youth hesitated for the fifth of a second. - -“No,” said the youth, and came on. - -Jetsam fired almost point-blank at the hero’s face, and the hero started -back and sank to the ground. And there was a great hush in the room and -a smell of powder and a little smoke. The youth lay still. - -“Get up!” said Jetsam fiercely. “Get up, or I’ll kick you up!” - -And, strange to relate, the youth discovered the whereabouts of his -limbs and got up, and returned to the corner. - -“A singular example of what imagination will do!” commented Jetsam. “The -first chamber of this revolver was loaded with blank. I expected to have -to use it for theatrical effect, to begin with, and I was not wrong. Let -me add that the other five chambers are most carefully loaded, and that -I once earned my living in a music-hall by shooting the pips out of -cards with this revolver.” He then addressed Mr. Gloucester. “Now, old -man,” he said, “how much gold is there in one of those boxes?” - -“Two thousand five hundred!” answered Mr. Gloucester politely. - -“And it weighs?” - -“About sixty pounds.” - -“It isn’t worth while breaking into it,” said Jetsam smoothly, looking -at Ilam. “I’ll take the lot. In our final settlement it shall be brought -into account.” His glance shifted to Gloucester. “Thank you,” he added, -“for this information so courteously given. - -“Perhaps you are satisfied now!” said Ilam. - -“Why don’t you go? You think you won’t get caught, but you will.” - -“Surely, you won’t give me away, Jos!” protested Jetsam. “I’m convinced -you won’t; because you see, if you begin to talk about me I should -probably begin to talk about you, and think how dreadful that would be.” - -“Keep it up! Keep it up!” said Ilam. - -“Hence,” Jetsam proceeded, ignoring the interruption, “I shall -confidently rely on you to see that these excellent gentlemen here in -the corner keep their elegant mouths shut. I shall rely on you for that. -You understand, gentlemen, Mr. Ilam wishes you not to prattle, even in -the privacy of your own homes.” - -“Are you going?” said Ilam doggedly. - -“Yes,” said Jetsam; “and so are you.” - -“Me!” - -“Yes, you. The money is a mere incidental. What I came for was your -distinguished self.” - -“I’m not coming with you. I haven’t the slightest intention of coming -with you.” - -“You may not have much intention, but you are coming,” said the suave -Jetsam. “Besides, who is going to carry this box outside for me? I can’t -carry the box and a revolver, too. Obviously Providence has designated -precisely you to carry this box. Come.” - -“Not I!” Ilam defied him. - -“Come!” repeated Jetsam. “I have a vehicle awaiting outside, and we -shall see what we shall see.” - -“No!” insisted Ilam. - -Mr. Jetsam advanced two paces. - -“Listen!” said he angrily and yet calmly. “If you don’t come, I’ll shoot -you where you stand. You ought to be able to perceive that I mean what I -say.” - -Ilam’s reply was a mute surrender. He dropped his eyes, and the next -moment the two underlings had the spectacle of the corpulent Mr. -Ilam lifting a sixty-pound weight and struggling with it to the door, -followed by the revolver and Mr. Jetsam behind the revolver. - -“Stop in the doorway a second,” ordered Jetsam. He addressed the clerks -again. “If I were you, I shouldn’t hurry out of here. You might catch -cold.” - -And then they saw Ilam disappear, the box in his arms, and Mr. Jetsam -follow him. Mr. Jetsam closed the door. The clerks were alone. - -“Well, of all the----!” exclaimed the younger man. - -“I wonder how soon it will be safe for us to leave!” said Mr. -Gloucester. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI--Interrupting a Concert - -That evening the nightly concert of the “Carpentaria Band” was held -in the great court of the Exposition Palace, partly because the weather -was threatening, and partly because the Y.M.C.A. wished it so. The -stalwart members of the Y.M.C.A. were prominent and joyous, and they -pervaded the City to the number of some fifty thousand. They were nearly -all young, and they were all, without exception, enthusiastic. They had -taken possession of practically the whole of the tables on the three -tiers of balconies that surrounded the court, and there was also -a considerable sprinkling of them on the ground floor. They liked -Carpentaria; they liked his music; they liked his way of conducting. -They admired him when he split the drums of their ears, and they equally -admired him when he wooed those organs with a hint of sound that was -something less than a whisper. They violently cheered his marches, and -with the same violence they cheered his serenades and his cradlesongs. - -Consequently Carpentaria was content. He was more than content--he -glowed with pleasure. He was the centre of the vast illuminated court, -with its ornate architecture, and its wonderful roof, and its serried -rows of lights. All eyes were centred on him. He swayed not only his -band, but the multitude, by a single movement of the slim baton--that -magic bit of ivory which he held in his hand. He said to himself that he -had never had a better, a more appreciative and enthusiastic audience in -the whole of his glorious career. The result was, that-he conducted in -his most variegated and polychromatic manner. He did things with his -wand that no conductor had ever done with a wand before; he performed -gyrations, contortions, and acrobatics beyond all his previous exploits. -In a word, he surpassed himself. - -He was in the very act of surpassing himself, in his renowned “Cockney -Serenade,” when he observed, out of the tail of his eye, a middle-aged -man, who was forcing his way at all costs across the floor of the hall -towards the bandstand. - -When seven thousand people are packed on chairs on a single floor, it -is not the quietest task in the world to penetrate through them. And -the middle-aged man was not doing it quietly, in fact, he was making -decidedly more noise than the “Cockney Serenade,” and attracting quite -as much attention. - -A number of ardently musical young men on the grand balcony leaned over -the wrought-iron parapet and advised the middle-aged man to lie down -and die, in a manner unmistakably ferocious. (It is extraordinary how -ferocious a youth can be on mere lemonade.) But the middle-aged man -continued his course, and he arrived at the bandstand, despite official -and unofficial protests, simultaneously with the conclusion of the -serenade. - -Gales of applause swept about the court, and Carpentaria bowed, and -bowed again--bowed innumerably, all the time regarding the middle-aged -man with angry and suppressed curiosity. The middle-aged man had lifted -up a hand and pulled the triangle-player by the belt of his magnificent -uniform, and the triangle-player had bent down to speak to him. - -“What is it? What is it?” asked Carpentaria, his nerves on edge. - -“A person insists on speaking to you, sir,” replied the triangle-player. - -“He cannot,” snapped Carpentaria. - -“He says he shall,” said the triangle-player. - -“I’ll----” Carpentaria began an anathema, and then stopped. He went to -the rail of the bandstand and leaned over to the middle-aged man. - -“At your age,” he said grimly, “you ought to know better than to -interrupt my concerts in this way. Who are you? What do you want?” - -“My name is Gloucester, sir,” was the answer. “Doubtless you recollect.” - -“I do nothing of the kind,” said Carpentaria. - -“I’m in charge of the--er----” Here Gloucester stood up on tiptoe in -an endeavour to whisper directly into Carpentaria’s ear--“the -strong-rooms.” - -“Well,” asked Carpentaria, “what do you want?” - -“Been robbed, sir.” - -“Great Heavens, man!” Carpentaria exploded. “You come to interrupt my -concert because the strong-rooms have been robbed!” - -“Two thousand five hundred pounds, sir.” - -“I don’t care if it’s two thousand times two thousand five hundred -pounds. Go away! Go and worry Mr. Ilam.” - -“That’s just it, sir. Mr. Ilam has been taken, too.” - -By this time the multitudinous eyes of the audience were fixed on -Carpentaria and his interlocutor, and everybody was sapiently saying to -everybody else that something extraordinary must have occurred. - -“What do you mean--Mr. Ilam been taken?” Carpentaria demanded. - -“He’s been carried off--he carried the money off--he was forced to, sir. -Revolver, sir. Can’t you come, sir?” - -“Can I come? Ye gods! Man, do you know what a concert is? Can I come? Of -course I can’t come!” - -“Mr. Ilam may be dead, sir.” - -“We shall have leisure to bury him after the concert,” said Carpentaria. -“Go away. Go and consult Lapping, head of the police department. Or, -rather, don’t. You’ll upset the audience making your way out. Sit -down. Sit right down there, and don’t move. We’re going to play my new -arrangement of the ‘Glory Song’ with variations. You’ll see it will -bring the house down. It will be something you’ll remember as long as -you live.” - -“But, sir,” pleaded Mr. Gloucester pathetically. - -“Sit down--and listen,” Carpentaria repeated sternly. - -He returned to the centre of his men. He rapped the magic wand on his -desk, and the next moment the band had burst deliriously into the now -famous orchestral arrangement of the “Glory Song.” The audience was -thrilled by the waves of sound that emanated from the instruments, -especially when the variations began. So the entertainment continued, -while Mr. Gloucester, consuming his middle-aged impatience as best he -could, ruminated upon the strange caprices of employers. He had been an -employé all his life; he had never commanded; and his conclusion, at -the age of fifty odd, was to the effect that the nature of employers is -incomprehensible, and that you never know what they will do next. - -“Excuse me, sir.” He timidly touched Carpentaria when the concert was -over. - -Carpentaria, it appeared, in the rush and fever of the music, had -forgotten all about him, and was on the point of leaving the court -deafened by applause. - -“Ah, yes!” said Carpentaria. “That thief. Two thousand five hundred -pounds. And you say that Mr. Ilam has been carried off. Tell me all -about that. Come this way. Come into the street--it is always the most -private place.” - -And in the Central Way, near the fountain, upon which coloured -lights were reflected from below, Mr. Gloucester related in detail to -Carpentaria the episode of the theft. - -“You say it was a man dressed in blue, with grey hair?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And there were three of you, including Mr. Ilam, and you could not -manage to disarm him?” - -“It might have meant death for the first of us, sir.” - -“Well,” said Carpentaria absently, “what if it did?” - -Mr. Gloucester grunted. - -“You said I was to consult Mr. Lapping, sir. Shall we go there?” - -“No,” said Carpentaria, “not yet. I will look into it myself first. The -principal mystery is that of the doorkeeper. What is his name?” - -“Wiggins.” - -“And he has disappeared?” - -“He was not there when I left, sir. And he could not have been there -when the thief entered.” - -“Why not?” - -“Because he would not have allowed the thief to enter, sir. He has -strict orders.” - -“Humph! Come along.” - -They hastened up the Central Way, in a northerly direction. The rain had -kept off, and the illuminations, which were superb, evidently met with -the ecstatic approval of the Y.M.C.A. adherents, who paraded to and fro, -and filled the flying cars, with the hectic enjoyment of people who -feel that closing time is near. The progress made by Carpentaria and his -companion was therefore not of the quickest. - -“It’s more than an hour since,” said Mr. Gloucester, daring to show his. -discontent. - -“What is?” asked Carpentaria. - -“Since the crime occurred.” - -“The fellow must have calculated on my concert,” replied Carpentaria. -“He probably knew that everybody in this City runs to me when the -slightest thing goes wrong.” - -“The slightest thing!” repeated Mr. Gloucester bitterly--but not aloud, -only in his secret soul. - -They hurried round by the side of the Storytellers’ Hall, and so to -the passage at the back. And standing at the entrance to the vaults, -underneath a solitary jet of electric light, was Wiggins, the doorkeeper -of the heart of the City. He was a man aged about thirty-five, six feet -two high, and not quite so broad. - -“So you’re here!” exclaimed Carpentaria. - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Where have you been since--since Mr. Ilam arrived here?” - -“I did what you told me, sir,” said Wiggins, with an air of -independence. Wiggins was not a Mr. Gloucester. - -“What was that?” demanded Carpentaria, mystified. - -“Why, your note, sir.” - -“What note?” - -Wiggins pulled a crumpled paper from his pocket and handed it to -Carpentaria, who read: - -“Come to me in my office at once. If I am not there, wait for me. The -bearer will take your duties meanwhile. - -“C. Carpentaria.” - -“Oh!” said Carpentaria. “And who brought this?” - -“A Soudanese, sir.” - -“Which Soudanese?” - -“I don’t know. They’re all alike to me.” - -“And it didn’t occur to you that this note was forged?” - -“No, sir. Why should it?” - -“It didn’t occur to you,” Carpentaria continued, “that I was conducting -my concert, and that therefore I couldn’t possibly be in my office?” - -“I didn’t know anything about any concert, sir. I’m doorkeeper here----” - -“Not know about my concert!” cried Carpentaria. Then he calmed himself. -“Mr. Ilam came before the Soudanese brought the note to you?” - -“Yes, sir, but only a few seconds before. He had but just gone in when -the Soudanese came. I was talking to the driver of the motor-car as was -waiting, sir, here in front of the door.” - -“Oh. So there was a motor-car?” - -“Yes, sir. It was one of the City cars. No. 28, sir. To take the money -away, sir.” - -“Good. Who was the driver? Do you know his name?” - -“I think his name’s Pratt, sir.” - -“Then you left immediately and went to my office and waited for me, and -then?” - -“Then I got tired of waiting and I came back here, sir.” - -“Good,” said Carpentaria. “Mr. Gloucester, the garage is indicated as -our next resort.” - -The immense garage of the City was close to the northern entrance gates. -And it, too, was guarded by a doorkeeper, hidden in a little box near -the double-wooden doors. - -“I want to know if Car No. 28 has come in,” said Carpentaria. - -“Yes, sir,” was the reply. “Came in twenty minutes ago.” - -“Did you see it?” - -“Yes, sir,” said the doorkeeper. - -“Who was driving it?” - -“I didn’t notice, sir.” - -“Show us the car, if you please.” - -They passed into the desert expanse of the garage, where a few men were -cleaning cars. Car No. 28 was in its place. In shape it was rather like -a police-van, but smaller. Carpentaria noticed that its wheels were very -dirty. - -“Open it,” said he. - -The key was found, and the interior of the car exposed to the light of -a lantern. And at the extremity of the car could be seen a vague mass, a -collection of limbs and clothes on the floor. - -“Get in,” said Carpentaria, “and see what that is.” - -The next moment two men were dragged out of the car in a state of -stupor. One was the Soudanese entitled “Spats,” who had become Ilam’s -bodyguard, and the other wore the uniform of an automobile driver. - -“Who is this?” Carpentaria asked. - -“It looks precious like Pratt, the man as usually drives this car, sir,” - answered the doorkeeper. - -All the attendants in the place had now gathered round. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII--Carpentaria as Detective - -You will now relate to me, as accurately as you can,” said Carpentaria -somewhat peremptorily to Pratt the chauffeur, “exactly what were the -circumstances which led to your ceasing to be master of your car.” - -Carpentaria had had Pratt and the Soudanese carried to the strong-room, -the heart of the City, where a chemist and Dr. Rivers had united to -treat them for the effects of the narcotic which had evidently, by some -means, been administered to them. Rivers repeated that, so far as he -could judge, the narcotic employed was chloral hydrate, a drug more -powerful than morphine, more effective in its action on the heart, and -less annoying to other functional parts of the body. When Rivers and -the chemist had finished their ministrations, Carpentaria had -politely intimated to them that he did not absolutely insist on their -remaining--a piece of information which surprised the doctor, who, -having been let into one of his director’s secrets, expected, with the -confidence of youth, to be let into all of them. The three men, two -white and one Ethiop, were thus alone together in the chamber. - -“Well, sir,” said Pratt, who was a fair man, talkative, with, just at -present, a terrific sense of his own importance as the central hero of a -mysterious drama. “It was like this: After I’d had the drink----” - -“What drink?” demanded Carpentaria sharply. “The drink the other driver -offered to me, sir.” - -“What other driver?” - -“There came up another driver, sir.” - -“In the City uniform?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Who was he? What was his name?” - -“No idea, sir. I seemed to remember his face, like, but I couldn’t -recollect his name. I asked him his name, and he said: ‘Don’t try to be -funny, Pratt; you’ve had a drop too much.’” - -“And had you?” - -“Not I, sir--of course I hadn’t. I’d made two journeys to the Bank with -full loads, and the next one was to be the last, and----” - -“And you hadn’t had anything to drink at all?” - -“Nothing to speak of, sir. A glass of port at Short’s as I was coming -back the first time, and a pint of beer--or it might have been a pint -and a half--at the Redcliffe as I was coming back the second time.” - -“That was absolutely all?” - -“Yes, sir, except a drop of whisky which was left in my flask.” - -“But how came the other driver to be in a position to offer you drink? -Was he carrying casks and other things about with him?” - -“No, sir, only a flask. Every chauffeur has a flask. Necessary, sir. -Cold work, sir. And you’ll recollect it hasn’t been exactly sultry -to-night.” - -“What did he say? Are you in the habit of accepting drinks from men -whose names you can’t call to mind?” - -“He was in the profession, sir, and in the uniform; besides, he said -he’d got a new cordial, fresh from Madeira, that would keep anyone warm, -even in the depth of winter, for at least two hours.” - -“But this isn’t the depth of winter.” - -“No, sir; but, as the cordial was handy, I thought I might as well try -it.” - -“And when you had tried it?” - -“I felt rather jolly, sir. I never felt better in my life, and thinks I -to myself: ‘I’d better write down the name and address of this cordial -before I forget it.’ So I says: ‘What’s-your-name,’ I says, meaning the -other driver, ‘what’s the name and address of this cordial, before I -forget it?’ And I was just taking a pencil out of my pocket to write -it down when I felt a bit less jolly and the pencil wouldn’t stop in my -hand.” - -“You were on your driving seat?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And that is all you remember?” - -“Yes, sir. Except that once, dreamy like, I thought I was in prison for -exceeding the legal limit, and that all the lights in the prison were -turned out, and an earthquake was going on.” - -“The other driver stood in the road by the car, eh?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“How was he dressed?” - -“I’ve told you, sir. This uniform. Blue and white cap, same as this, and -long overcoat.” - -“You couldn’t see what he wore underneath the overcoat?” - -“No, sir.” - -“And you?” Carpentaria turned swiftly on the Soudanese. “Did you drink -too?” - -“Yes, sah.” - -Spats smiled. - -“And after you had drunk?” - -Spats shook his head, still smiling. - -“You remember nothing?” - -“Yes, sah.” - -“What?” - -“He means he doesn’t remember anything,” Pratt explained. - -“You mean you remember nothing?” Carpentaria questioned. - -“Yes, sah.” - -“Why did you drink?” - -“Yes, sah.” - -The Soudanese looked at Pratt, smiling.. “Because Pratt drank?” - -“Yes, sah.” - -“You have been waiting on Mr. Ilam lately, haven’t you?” - -“Yes, sah.” - -“When he came to the outer door there, and entered in here, did he tell -you to wait outside?” - -“Yes, sah.” - -“You can both go,” said Carpentaria. “Come to me at eight o’clock -to-morrow, Pratt, in case I should want you.” - -“Yes, sir,” said Pratt. “Yes, sah,” said the Soudanese. - -“No, not you,” Carpentaria explained. - -“Yes, sah.” - -“One moment,” said Carpentaria to the Ethiopian. “Did Mr. Ilam or any -other person give you a note to hand to the doorkeeper outside there?” - The Soudanese shook his fierce and yet amiable head. - -“What!” cried Pratt, addressing him in surprise, “didn’t you come up -and give a note to Wiggins and then go away again, and return a second -time?” The Soudanese shook his head once more. - -“Then there must have been two of ’em, sir,” said Pratt to -Carpentaria. “This chap’s honest enough.” - -“Me have brother,” said the Soudanese, “same me.” - -“Where is your brother?” - -The Soudanese shook his head. - -“In the native village?” - -“Yes, sah.” - -“Go and fetch him,” ordered Carpentaria. - -And the next moment he was alone in the great chamber, and he felt -tempted simply to go to the regular police, of whom a few were -constantly employed by the City, and tell them what had happened, and -leave the whole affair entirely in their hands. And then the strange -attraction which always emanates from a mystery appealed to him so -strongly that he determined to probe a little further into the peculiar -matter of Ilam’s disappearance, without the aid of professional -detectives. He didn’t imagine for an instant that Ilam was dead. He was -capable of believing that Ilam had disappeared willingly; and yet such -a theory, having regard to the recitals of Mr. Gloucester and of the -bank-clerk (by this time doubtless on his way to Weybridge, and the -young thing) was to say the least exceedingly improbable. - -He unlocked the door and went outside. Wiggins was at his post, actuated -by the exaggerated alertness which characterizes one who has been caught -napping. - -“Anything happened, Wiggins?” - -“No, sir. Nothing whatever.” - -“I shall return soon. If the Soudanese comes, keep him.” - -“Yes, sir.” - -He passed into the Central Way, which was almost deserted. The last -visitor, the very last stalwart of the Y.M.C.A., had departed, and -the sole signs of life in the great thoroughfare were a lamplighter -extinguishing the gas-lamps which were provided in case of a sudden -failure of electricity, and a road-sweeper in charge of a complicated -machine with two horses. The clock in the tower of the Exposition Palace -showed half an hour after closing time. The moon was peeping over the -eastern roofs. - -Carpentaria went to the garage, and, not without difficulty, for it -was shut up, made his way into the interior and procured some light. He -wished to make a thorough examination of the car which had been employed -as the instrument of the plot. He had it drawn out to the centre of -the garage, under the full flare of an electric chandelier. A sleepy -attendant hovered in the background. - -“Get a ladder and see if there’s anything on the roof of the van--any -tyres or boxes or anything,” said Carpentaria. - -“There’s only this, sir,” replied the attendant when he had climbed up, -and he produced a cap and overcoat of the City uniform. - -“Well, I’m----!” exclaimed Carpentaria, and a notion struck him. - -“Doorkeeper gone to bed?” he queried. - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Wake him and tell him I want him.” - -While waiting for the doorkeeper, Carpentaria scrutinized attentively -the wheels of the vehicle; those wheels, even on his first visit, had -put an idea into his head. Then the doorkeeper arrived, not quite as -spruce and perfect as a doorkeeper ought to be. - -“No one can enter this garage except under your observation?” - Carpentaria asked him. - -“No one,” said the doorkeeper, positively. - -“But you don’t keep such a careful eye on the people who go out?” - -“Naturally not, sir. They can’t go out till they’ve been in, and if -they’ve been in they’re all right.” - -“Just so. Now try to remember. Soon after this car returned to the -garage to-night, did any one leave the garage who was unfamiliar to -you?” - -“I don’t remember, sir. You see, sir----” - -“Exactly. I see. I am not blaming you. Your theory, though defective, is -a natural one. Now, do you remember, for instance, a man in a blue suit, -with grey hair, going out?” - -“Upon my soul, I believe I do, sir.” - -“You are certain?” - -“Oh, no, sir. I’m not certain. But I have a sort of a hazy idea----” - -“Look at these wheels,” Carpentaria cut him short. “That’s clayey mud, -isn’t it?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Where could the car have been to get that?” - -“There’s that passage down under the embankment, sir, that way as leads -to the river.” - -“Doorkeeper,” said Carpentaria, “you are brilliant. I also have thought -of that spot, where just such clay exists. But why should the car go -down there?” - -“Ah,” said the doorkeeper. “There you beat me, sir.” - -“Then perhaps you are not so brilliant after all,” said Carpentaria. - -And having minutely examined the interior of the car, with no result, he -left the garage, and returned to the strong room. - -The Soudanese was awaiting him at the door, and there were evident -signs of a quarrelsome temper on the part of Wiggins. Wiggins had not -forgotten the colour of the messenger who had handed him the forged -note. - -“Well?” Carpentaria asked of the Soudanese. “Where’s your brother?” - -The man shook his head, but not smilingly. - -“Has he gone?” - -“Yes, sah.” - -“No one knows at the village where he’s gone?” - -Spats shook his head. - -“Wiggins,” said Carpentaria. “Is this the man who brought you the note?” - -Wiggins hesitated. - -“No, sir,” he said at length’, resentfully. “But they’re all alike, them -folk are.” - -“H’m!” murmured Carpentaria. “Since there is nothing to guard here, you -may as well go, Wiggins. You, too, Spats.” - -Two minutes later he was crossing the Oriental Gardens in the direction -of the Thames. And when he had travelled two hundred yards or so he -heard footsteps behind him, light, rapid, irregular. He turned quickly, -his hand on the revolver in his pocket, to face his pursuer. His -pursuer, however, was Pauline Dartmouth and no other. So he left the -revolver where it was. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII--The Talk in the Garden - -She was so out of breath that at first it seemed as if she could not -speak. He could hear her hurried breathing, almost like the catch of a -sob, and in the moonlight he could see fairly clearly her flushed face, -under the hat, and her tall, rather imperious figure. But he could -not make out the expression of her eyes. Nevertheless, as he peered -curiously into them, the thought suddenly struck him: “She is angry with -me.” - -“Mr. Carpentaria, I want to have a word with you,” she said at length, -stiffly. - -“My dear Miss Dartmouth,” he answered in his courtly and elaborate -manner, “I shall be delighted. What can I do for you? I regret very much -that you should have had to run after me like this.” - -“I’ve been following you up for quite a long time,” she remarked, in a -more friendly tone. It appeared as if his attitude and greeting had -made some impression on her, in spite of herself. “First I went to -your office. Then to the strong-rooms, then to the garage, then to the -strong-rooms again, and now I’m here. I saw you crossing the gardens. -Nobody seemed to be inclined to give me any information about you.” - -“No?” he murmured, in a cautious interrogative. “Now tell me; how can I -be of service to you?” - -She scanned his features. They were alone together in the midst of the -immense gardens. A hundred yards away was the bandstand, the scene of -the greatest triumphs of his life. And yet in that moment his triumphs -seemed nothing to him as he stood under her gaze. Her personality -affected him powerfully. He said to himself that no woman had ever -looked at him like that. There was no admiration in her glance, no -prejudice either for or against him; nothing but a candid and judicial -inquiry. “I hope I shall come well out of this scrutiny,” his thoughts -ran. And the masculine desire formed obscurely in his breast to make -this girl think favourably of him, to make her admire him, love him, -worship him. He felt that to see love in these calm, courageous, -independent eyes of hers would be a recompense and a reward for all he -had suffered in the forty years of his existence. In a word she piqued -him. He little knew that up to that very evening she had worshipped him -afar off as women do worship their heroes. - -“Nobody ill, I hope,” he ventured. - -She ignored the observation, and said: - -“Mr. Carpentaria, what have you done with Cousin Ilam?” - -“What?” he cried, amazed both by the question, and by the cold firmness -with which it was put. - -“I think you heard what I said,” she replied. “What have you done with -Cousin Ilam? Where is he?” - -“Miss Dartmouth, do you imagine for one instant that I know where Mr. -Ilam is? I should only like to know where he is. I’m looking for him -now. But I was not aware that the fact of his disappearance was known. -Indeed, I meant it to be kept as secret as possible. I----” - -“No, no,” she interrupted him. “I was hoping you would be frank. I -thought you had an honest face, Mr. Carpentaria, and it is because of -that that I have come--like this. I have just left your poor sister. -She is in despair. She has told me all.” Carpentaria did not reply -immediately. At last he repeated: - -“Told you all? All what? You have soon become fast friends, you and -Juliette.” - -“It is possible,” said Pauline drily. “I have met your sister three -times, but in seasons of distress we women are obliged to cling to each -other. As for Miss D’Avray and me, we live next door to each other. What -more natural than that I should call on her this evening? And finding -her in a condition of--shall I say?--despair, what more natural than -that I should ask her what was the matter, and what more natural, seeing -that she has no women friends here, and is of a nature that demands -sympathy, than that on the spur of the moment she should confide in me?” - -“I assure you, Miss Dartmouth,” said Carpentaria, “that I was entirely -unaware of my sister’s despair--as you call it. What precisely has she -confided to you?” - -“Why, about her engagement to Cousin Ilam, and your opposition.” - -“Pardon me, there has been no engagement,” said Carpentaria. - -“Pardon me,” said Pauline, “there has been an engagement, because my -cousin and your half-sister made it. Is there anybody better qualified -than them to make an engagement?” - -She lifted her chin. - -“Well,” said Carpentaria. “Let us assume that there was an engagement.” - -“They were to be married to-morrow,” remarked Pauline calmly. - -“To-morrow!” Carpentaria exclaimed, aghast. “Secretly?” - -“Why do you pretend to be surprised? As for the secrecy, your opposition -has forced them to secrecy, because your sister is afraid of you.” - -“And now that your cousin has disappeared, of course, they can’t be -married to-morrow,” mused Carpentaria. “Hence this woe.” - -“Why have you taken such extreme measures, such cruel measures, such -wicked measures?” asked Pauline, full of indignation. “I can understand -well enough that you, as a great artist, cannot be expected to behave -like other people; I can understand you doing mad things, original -things. I can understand you defying the law, and taking the most -serious risks on yourself. But I can’t understand you being so cruel to -your sister, and so utterly beside yourself, as to carry off Mr. Ilam by -force.” - -Her cheeks had flushed. - -“By force?” murmured Carpentaria. - -Then he laughed loudly, violently, magnificently, after his manner. His -laugh resounded through the deserted gardens. - -“Juliette thinks I have removed her betrothed by force?” he queried. - -“Naturally she does!” said Pauline. “The most extraordinary rumours are -about. It is even said that you have had a quarrel and killed him.” - -“Tut-tut!” said Carpentaria, and after clearing his throat he proceeded: -“Miss Dartmouth, will you kindly fix your eyes on mine. I tell you I -have had nothing whatever to do with your cousin’s disappearance, -and that I was entirely unaware of his intention to marry Juliette -to-morrow.” - -She gazed at him doubtfully. - -“On your honour?” - -“No,” he said proudly, “not on my honour. When I talk to a person as I -am talking to you, if I say a thing is so, it is so. I decline to back -my assertions with my honour.” - -“I believe you,” she whispered softly, and her eyes fell. - -“Thanks!” he said. “Will you shake hands?” - -And she gave him her hand loyally. And he thought it was a very slim and -thrilling hand to shake. - -“Do you know,” he said, “it was exceedingly naughty of you to go and -credit me with being such a monster.” - -“Well,” she replied, “perhaps I never did really believe it.” She smiled -at him courageously. “But I was angry with you for objecting to the -match. I suppose you won’t deny that you have objected to the match.” - -“No,” he said, “I shan’t deny that.” - -“And your reasons?” - -“I could not disclose them to Mr. Ilam’s cousin,” he answered. “And -perhaps they are not as strong as they were. I am beginning to think -that just as you accused me wrongly, so I have accused your cousin -wrongly. But I can assure you I had better reason than you. Ah, Miss -Dartmouth,” he added, “it may well occur that you will infinitely regret -ever having come into the City.” - -“Never!” she said positively. - -“That’s very polite,” he commented. - -“We are getting away from the point,” she remarked in a new tone. “I -have left your sister in a pitiable state. If you have not had anything -to do with the disappearance of Cousin Ilam, who has?” - -“He may have disappeared voluntarily,” said Carpentaria. - -“Impossible!” she replied. - -“I think so too.” Carpentaria agreed. “At first I was capable of -believing that he had played an enormous comedy in order to disappear in -the most effective manner. But really the comedy grows too enormous to -be any longer a comedy. It may be a tragedy by this time.” - -“And whom do you suspect?” queried Pauline impatiently. - -“If I were you,” was Carpentaria’s strange response, “I should ask your -sister, Miss Rosie.” - -“Rosie!” - -“Rosie.” - -“Mr. Carpentaria, what on earth do you mean?” - -“I mean that your sister probably knows something of the affair. Where -is she at the present moment?” - -“She is watching Mrs. Ilam, in place of the nurse.” - -“I gravely doubt it,” said Carpentaria with firmness. - -“But I have seen her there.” - -“It is conceivable,” said Carpentaria. “But I gravely doubt if she is -still there.” - -“I shall be compelled to think that after all you are a little mad,” - Pauline observed coldly. - -“We are all more or less mad,” said Carpentaria. “Otherwise your sister, -for instance, would not hold long conversations with a highly suspicious -character every night from the window of her room.” - -Pauline, in the light of her knowledge of what had taken place in and -about the Ilam bungalow on the first night of her residence there, could -scarcely affect not to understand, at any rate partially, Carpentaria’s -allusion. - -“I don’t quite----” she began, lamely. - -“Do you mean to say,” he interrupted her at once, “do you mean to say, -dear lady, that you are entirely unaware of the surreptitious visits of -a certain mysterious person to Mr. Ilam’s house?” - -“I am not entirely unaware of them,” she said frankly! “I saw the man -myself one night. I spoke to him. My sister also--also spoke to him. But -I have not seen nor heard of him since. Nor has Rosie.” - -“Of that you are sure?” - -“Yes, I think I may say I am sure.” - -“Then I must undeceive you,” Carpentaria spoke firmly. “I also have -acquired a certain curiosity as to that strange individual. And to -satisfy my curiosity I have kept a considerable number of vigils. And -I am in a position to state that, not only on the first night of your -arrival, but every night your sister has had speech with that person -from the window of her room.” - -“Who is he? What can he want?” demanded Pauline, nervously. - -“That is a question that I meant to put to you,” said Carpentaria in -reply. - -“As for me, I know nothing.” - -“When you spoke to him, as you admit you did, did he not ask you to do -something?” - -“Yes, and I refused his request.” - -“But your sister? What did she do?” - -“Oh! Mr. Carpentaria,” murmured Pauline, “can I trust you?” - -“You know that you can.” - -She related to him all the details of the episode of the black box. - -“And after that,” Carpentaria commented, “your sister continues to have -stolen interviews with this man.” - -“I can’t help thinking you are mistaken. Rosie would never keep such a -secret from me.” - -“It will be very easy to throw some light on the matter,” said -Carpentaria. “Let us go to your house and see whether Miss Rosie is in -Mrs. Ilam’s room as you imagine her to be, and as I imagine her not -to be. I may tell you quite openly my opinion that Miss Rosie has had -something to do with the disappearance of Mr. Ilam. I am convinced, -indeed I know, that he has been spirited away, together with a trifling -amount of money, by our mysterious visitor, and since our mysterious -visitor talks to Miss Rosie each night, she on her balcony and he -beneath it--well, I leave the inference to yourself.” - -Pauline started back. - -“Yes,” she said, in a low voice, “let us go and see.” - -And they went, walking side by side in silence across the gardens. - -“I will wait here,” said Carpentaria, when they arrived at the side-door -of the Ilam bungalow. “You can ascertain whether anything unusual has -occurred in the house, and particularly if your sister is still at her -post, and then you will be kind enough to come back and report to me. I -will watch here.” Without replying Pauline passed into the house. In a -few minutes she returned. Tears stood in her eyes. - -“Well?” queried Carpentaria. - -“Rosie is not in the house,” she answered. “Mrs. Ilam is alone. Happily -she is asleep. Everything is quiet. But Rosie----!” - -A sob escaped her. - - - - -PART III--JETSAM - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV--The Boat - -Carpentaria and Pauline continued to stand motionless outside the -house, both of them hesitant, recoiling before the circumstances which -faced them. The night remained clear, almost brilliant. - -“The entire situation is changed,” said Carpentaria at length. “A new -factor has entered into it.” - -“What factor?” Pauline demanded. - -“Why, your sister, of course!” he replied, with a slight smile that -disclosed momentarily the quizzical male person in him. “Consider how -it complicates the affair. If I had to deal only with the mysterious -individual with grey hair and a blue suit--perhaps you do not know -that he calls himself Jetsam?--I could go to work in a simple masculine -fashion, and in the end one of us would suffer, probably he. But with a -woman in the case----” - -“How can you be sure,” Pauline interrupted him, “that Rosie is in the -case?” - -“Can you doubt it?” - -“I cannot understand why she should behave so!” - -“Perhaps she knew him before,” Carpentaria hazarded. - -“Never,” said Pauline positively--“never.” - -“Then he has certainly been able to exercise a most remarkable influence -over her.” - -“Not a hypnotic influence, or anything of that kind?” - -“Perhaps an influence of quite another kind--quite another kind.” - -“But Rosie is scarcely half his age.” - -“Do these things depend on age?” cried Carpentaria. “They depend on -glances, sympathies, and trifles even more subtle than sympathies. -Besides, she is more than half his age.” - -“Oh,” murmured Pauline, with a sudden wistful appeal in her voice, “I -shall trust you to help me, Mr. Carpentaria. Rosie may be in danger; she -may be doing something very foolish, mixing herself up like this in the -kidnapping of poor Cousin Ilam. What is to be done?” - -“She is decidedly doing something very foolish,” said Carpentaria, -“foolish, that is, from a mere ordinary common-sense point of view. But -I don’t think she is in any danger. I don’t think that either she or you -are the sort of woman that gets into danger without very good cause. -As to what is to be done, I have an idea. Mrs. Ilam will be all right -alone?” - -“Yes; for a few hours, at any rate.” - -“Then will you come with me to the river? I have some investigations to -make.” - -“Certainly,” said Pauline. - -And as they crossed the Oriental Gardens for the second time that night, -he told her what he knew about the use, or rather the abuse, of the -automobile. - -The marble parapet of the immense terrace of the gardens stood a dozen -feet above the level of high tide. The terrace was continuous from end -to end, but in several places it formed a viaduct over paths that ran -from the gardens at a steep slope down to the bed of the river. It was -one of these paths, a specially clayey one, at the point where it ran -under the terrace, that Carpentaria suspected the automobile of having -taken. Assuming his suspicion to be correct, the automobile could only -have descended to the Thames, and then, if the tide gave room, turned -round and returned; or, if the tide did not give room, backed out -without turning. - -“Its sole purpose,” said Carpentaria, as they talked the matter over, -“could have been to pass something to a boat. Don’t you think so?” - -“Yes,” Pauline agreed, and then she added, “unless they merely wanted to -throw something into the river.” - -“What!” He cried; “a corpse?” - -“No,” she said calmly. “I was thinking of the two thousand five hundred -pounds in gold that you told me had been stolen.” - -He paused. - -“This is really very clever of you,” he said. “But why should they throw -it into the river.” - -“Well,” she said, “it’s high tide, or rather it was, about an hour and -a half ago. They might have sunk the money, intending to recover it at -their leisure during the night when the tide sank.” - -“Yes, I must repeat,” he said; “this is really very clever of you.” - -They were already beginning to descend the broadest of the three paths -which led from the level of the gardens to the level of the river, -and the wheelmarks of an automobile were clearly visible thereon, when -Carpentaria halted. - -“Suppose,” he whispered, “they are there now?” - -“Who? Mr. Jetsam and my sister?” - -“No, not your sister. Mr. Jetsam and his--other accomplices--whoever -they may be. I do not imagine that your sister has been concerned in the -actual--er--affair. Indeed, she was at home with you at the time. But -if Jetsam, for instance, should be down there now, alone or with others, -there might be a row on my appearance. I will therefore ask you to stay -where you are, Miss Dartmouth.” - -She shook her head. - -“I have begun,” she said, “and I will go through with it. Besides, -what danger could there be? People don’t go shooting and killing -promiscuously like that.” - -“Oh, don’t they!” Carpentaria exclaimed. - -“Moreover, I have no fancy to be left alone here now,” she added. “And -most likely there isn’t anyone there at all.” - -“Hush!” said Carpentaria. “Can’t you hear the splash of an oar? Listen!” - -They listened. - -“Yes,” she murmured. “And is not that the noise of a boat crunching on -the beach?” - -The path disappeared mysteriously before them under the terrace; they -could not see the end of it. But the sound-waves came clearly enough -through the little tunnel. - -“We will go back,” said Carpentaria, “and slip on to the terrace. Behind -the parapet we can see anything that may happen to be going on. But -quietly, quietly, dear lady.” - -In a few moments they were creeping across the broad terrace. -Simultaneously they bent down, side by side, under the parapet and -looked between its squat, rounded pillars at the water below. - -Pauline gave a slight smothered cry, which Carpentaria, with an -imperious gesture, bade her check. - -“Not a word,” he whispered in her ear. - -Rosie--Rosie and no other--was manoeuvring a boat off the shore. Her -face, her dress, her hat, were plainly visible in the moonlight. She -stood up in the boat, and by means of a boat-hook hooked to a large -oblong stone, drew the boat to the shore. She then seized the painter -and jumped lightly out. - -The curious thing was that she went directly to the large oblong stone, -and with a great effort, lifted it up in her arms, tottered with it to -the boat, and deposited it therein. Carpentaria perceived then that the -stone was not a stone, but one of the coffers in which was kept the gold -of the City of Pleasure. He perceived also that, attached to the coffer, -was a dozen feet or so of rope with a cork float at the end. Rosie -followed the coffer into the boat, pushed off, and then, at a distance -of a few yards from the shore, pitched the coffer into the river. This -done, she landed, made fast the painter of the boat to an iron ring -in the wall of the embankment and departed; and she did it all rather -neatly. - -Immediately she had disappeared under the terrace, Pauline cried, -starting up: - -“I must go to her--I must ask her what she means by doing such things.” - -“Pardon me,” said Carpentaria; “you must do nothing of the kind. I most -seriously beg you to do nothing of the kind. By interfering now you may -spoil the coup which we may ultimately make.” - -“I don’t quite comprehend you,” Pauline observed. “Miss Dartmouth,” he -addressed her excitedly, “there can be no doubt in your mind now that -your sister is concerned in this plot, whatever it is. I am perfectly -convinced that her motives are good, honourable, kind-hearted. But she -is concerned in it. We must, therefore, so far as we can, treat her as -one of the conspirators----” - -“But surely----” - -“Always with profound respect,” said Carpentaria. “Had the person in the -boat been any other than your sister, should we have revealed ourselves? -Certainly not! We should have followed the plot to its next development, -with this advantage--that we knew something which the conspirators -imagined to be a secret. The fact that the person in the boat was your -sister must not alter our course of conduct. And permit me to add, Miss -Dartmouth, that you first approached me on behalf of _my_ sister. We owe -something to her, do we not?” - -“Yes,” said Pauline in a low voice. “Then what do you mean to do next?” - -“I suggest that we go back to your house, to see whether your sister has -returned. May I ask whether, when you last spoke to her, she gave you to -understand that she meant to stay with Mrs. Ilam?” - -Pauline breathed a reluctant affirmative. - -“No hint that she was going out?” - -“None. And----” - -“And what?” - -“Oh, dear!” Pauline sighed. “Must I tell you? Yes, I must! I’m sure -Rosie is acting for the best, but really it was not her turn to watch -Mrs. Ilam to-night.” - -“Whose turn was it?” - -“The nurse’s.” - -“And your sister changed the rotation?” - -“Yes. She said the nurse needed a holiday, and told her she could go -away for twenty-four hours, and that she would take her place.” - -“What time was that?” - -“About six o’clock this evening, I think.” - -“And where has the nurse gone?” - -“The nurse has gone to a concert at Queen’s Hall, and will sleep at the -house of some friends at Islington.” - -“And does your sister imagine you to be in bed?” - -“I expect so,” said Pauline. - -They slowly returned to the neighbourhood of the bungalows. Carpentaria -wanted to hurry, but it seemed as though Pauline was being held back by -some occult force. As a matter of fact, she dreaded the moment when she -should re-enter the house. But at length, they stood once again by the -doorstep of Josephus Ilam. - -“What am I to do?” Pauline demanded sadly. “What do you think will be -the best thing to do?” - -“We have not seen your sister in the gardens,” said Carpentaria. “She -has most probably returned. She would not be likely to leave Mrs. Ilam -for very long, would she? Go and see if she has returned, if she is in -Mrs. Ham’s room. And if she is, question her.” - -“But how? What am I to say? Am I to ask her if she has been out?” - -“By no means!” said Carpentaria promptly. “You are to pretend that you -know nothing. You must approach her diplomatically. Either she will tell -the truth or she will----” - -“Lie! Lie!” cried Pauline. “Say it openly! Say the word! Admit that you -are persuading me to behave despicably to the creature who is dearest to -me in all the world.” - -“If there is duplicity,” Carpentaria answered, “you, at any rate, did -not begin it. We are convinced of your sister’s good intentions. What -else matters? In a few days, perhaps to-morrow, all will be explained. -Let me entreat you to go at once. I will await your report.” - -She shook her head sadly, opened the door with her latchkey, and was -just about to shut it when Carpentaria stopped her. - -“One moment,” he said. “You have told me your sister believes you to be -in bed.” - -“I say ‘probably.’” - -“It is important that she should not be undeceived. I need not insist. -You can easily make it appear that, having been awakened by some noise, -you have got up. Eh?” And he smiled. - -She tried to smile in return, and disappeared from his view. Within the -house, she crept upstairs, and into her bedroom, feeling like a -thief. When she emerged therefrom she had put on a _peignoir_, and her -_coiffure_ was disarranged. She went to the door of Mrs. Ham’s room, and -listened intently. There was not a sound. If she was to obey Carpentaria -she must enter, and she must wear a false mask: to that sister to whom -she had all her life been as sincere as it is possible for one human -being to be to another. Well, she could not enter--she could not enter! -Her legs would not carry her through the doorway. And so, instead of -going in, she called: - -“Rosie!” - -But her voice was so weak that she scarcely even heard it herself. - -No reply came from the interior. And she called again, this time quite -loudly: - -“Rosie, dear!” - -Then she opened the door an inch or two. There was a rush of skirts -across the room, and Rosie appeared. She was evidently in a state of -extreme excitement. - -“What’s the matter? Are you ill?” asked Rosie. - -“I--I was wakened by some noise or other,” said Pauline painfully, and -it appeared to her that Carpentaria was whispering in her ear the words -that she must say. “And--and--I--I thought perhaps something had gone -wrong here.” - -“No,” was Rosie’s reply. “But how queer you look, darling! You must have -had a nightmare. You have quite startled me.” - -Pauline did not answer at once. - -“You aren’t undressed! You haven’t lain down,” she said at length. “I -thought you could always sleep very well on that sofa.” - -“So I can,” said Rosie. “But I’ve been reading. And besides--it’s rather -upsetting about Cousin Ilam. I wonder where he can be.” - -“Oh!” Pauline remarked summarily, “he’s pretty certain to turn up -to-morrow. I expect he’s gone into town.” - -Rosie yawned. - -“Yes,” she agreed. - -“Well, good-night, darling,” said Pauline, and took Rosie’s hand. . - -“Good-night.” - -“How cold your hand is!” Pauline observed, with an inward tremor. “Have -you been out?” - -“Been out? What do you mean?” - -“Outside on to the balcony?” - -“No. I haven’t stirred from my chair, darling. Bye-bye.” - -They stared at each other for an instant, each full of dissimulation, -and yet also of love, and then they kissed one another passionately, and -Pauline departed. They were women. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV---A Wholesale Departure - -Having retired to her bedroom and divested herself of the deceitful -_peignoir_, Pauline made her way, with all the precautions of secrecy, -downstairs again, and so to the door which gave on the avenue. -Carpentaria was not in view when she timorously put her head out of -the door, and she was in a mind to rush back to her sister in order -to confide in her absolutely, and to demand in return her entire -confidence. She allowed herself to suspect for a brief instant that, -after all, Carpentaria had not been behaving openly with her; but just -then the musician arrived--he had evidently been watching the other side -of the house. - -“You were right,” she whispered, before he had time to ask a question. - -“Your sister denies that she has been out?” - -Pauline nodded. - -“Does this help us?” she inquired, as it were, bitterly. “Are we any -better off, now that I have lied to Rosie, and forced Rosie to lie to -me?” - -“I think so,” he said. - -“I don’t,” Pauline retorted. “And I have passed the most dreadful five -minutes of all my life.” - -She seemed to be desolated, to be filled with grief. - -“I’m so sorry, so very sorry,” he murmured. - -“No, no,” she said quickly. “You have been quite right. We find -ourselves in the centre of a mystery, and I have no excuse for being -sentimental. My trust in Rosie remains what it always was. Still, facts -are facts, and I am ready to do whatever you instruct me to do.” - -“Well,” he said, “your sister must have had some reason for insisting -on watching Mrs. Ilam out of her turn; and that reason is not connected -with the little matter of the boat. If she had merely wished to go -unobserved to the boat she would have gone to bed as usual and said -nothing, wouldn’t she?” - -Pauline nodded. - -“It is obvious, therefore, that there is something else to be done, or -to occur--probably in Mrs. Ilam’s bedroom. For if it is not to happen -in Mrs. Ilam’s bedroom, why should your sister have voluntarily tied -herself up there?” - -“But what could possibly happen in Mrs. Ilam’s bedroom?” demanded -Pauline, with a nervous start of apprehension. - -“How do I know?” Carpentaria replied. “I can only point to certain -indications, which lead to certain conclusions. You will oblige me by -watching, Miss Dartmouth.” - -“Where?” - -“The landing and the stairs of your house. Is there a view of the stairs -from your room?” - -“Yes,” said Pauline. - -“Then you can watch from there. Do not burn a light.” - -“And if anything strange does occur?” - -“Go to your balcony, and tie a white handkerchief to the railings.” - -“And you?” queried Pauline. - -At that moment there was the sound of a window opening in Carpentaria’s -bungalow across the avenue, and a voice called plaintively: - -“Carlos, is that you?” - -“It is I,” he answered, as low as he could. - -“Go to her. Comfort her,” Pauline enjoined him. - -“I am coming to you,” he obediently called in the direction of the -window. - -Both of them could see the vague figure of Juliette, framed in the -window. - -“Poor thing!” murmured Pauline. - -“Afterwards,” said Carpentaria hurriedly, “I shall come out again and -watch the outside of your house. With you inside and me outside, it will -be very difficult for anything peculiar to occur without our knowledge.” - -And he left her, impressed by her common sense and her self-control, and -withal her utter womanliness. - -The hall of his own house was dark, and all the rooms of the -ground-floor deserted. He mounted to the upper story. Juliette, hearing -his footsteps, had come to the door of the study, from whose window she -had hailed him, and she stared at him with a fixed and almost stony gaze -as he approached. Her figure was silhouetted against the electric light -in the study. - -“Turn that light out instantly,” he said, with involuntary sternness. - -She did not move, and, obsessed by the importance of giving to anyone -who might be spying the impression that all the occupants of the house -had retired for the night, he pushed past her and turned off the switch. - -“Oh, Carlos,” Juliette sighed, “how cruel you are?” - -He now saw her indistinctly in the deep gloom of the chamber, and her -form seemed pathetic to him, and her sad, despairing voice even more -pathetic. He went up to her impulsively and took her hand. - -“Juliette,” he said, “can you believe it of me?” - -“Miss Dartmouth has spoken to you?” she asked, a glimmer of hope in her -tone. - -“Yes,” he said. “Can you believe that I have--have caused anything to be -done to Ilam?” - -“Have you not?” she demanded eagerly. - -And he told her what he had previously told Pauline. - -She thanked him with an affectionate kiss. - -“Carlos,” she said, and the words fell in a little torrent from her -mouth, “I told you a falsehood this morning. I acted a part. He was in -my sitting-room all the time. Can you forgive me?” - -“I was sure of it,” said Carpentaria calmly, “and I can forgive you,” he -added. - -“You do not know what it is to love,” she said. “You have never cared -for anyone--in that way. I hadn’t--until I met----” - -“Who says I don’t know what it is to love!” he stopped her. “Perhaps I -am learning. But tell me, when did you last see Ilam? Have you seen him -since this morning?” - -“Yes,” she said. - -“Where?” - -“At his offices this evening.” - -“He gave no hint that he was in any danger?” - -“No immediate danger. Oh, Carlos, he is not what you think him to be. -He is an honest man, and I am so sorry for him, and I love him. Where is -he? What has happened to him?” - -“I can’t tell you now,” was Carpentaria’s reply, “but before morning we -shall know more, or I am mistaken.” - -“It is for the crimes of others that he is suffering,” said Juliette. - -“He told you so?” - -“No, but I guess; I am sure. I know all his faults--all of them. I do -not hide one of them from myself. Why should I, since he loves me and I -love him?” - -“My child,” said Carpentaria abruptly, “you might have trusted me more.” - -“I should have trusted you absolutely,” answered Juliette, “but he is -afraid of you. He would not let me. I could not disobey him. Sometime, -somehow, you must have said something to frighten him and, though he is -so big and strong, he is timid; he has timid eyes. It was because of his -eyes that I first began to like him. Carlos, what are you going to do?” - -“I am going to watch,” was the response. - -“A man came to the back-door not long since, and asked whether you were -at home.” - -“A man came to the back-door?” repeated Carpentaria sharply, every nerve -suddenly on the strain. “Who was it? What did you say to him?” - -“At first I thought it was one of the night-staff, and then the man’s -face made me suspicious; I imagined it might be a thief--you know what a -state I am in, Carlos--and so I told him you had just gone to bed, and -I shut the door in his face. I didn’t want him to think there were -only women in the house. But, of course, it couldn’t have been a -burglar--here----” - -“That is the wisest thing you have done this day, Juliette,” Carpentaria -remarked; and then he questioned her as to the appearance of the -mysterious inquirer. - -“Are you going to leave me?” cried Juliette, when Carpentaria picked up -his hat, which had fallen from a chair to the floor. - -“Yes,” he said; “you must try to rest.” - -And then they were both startled by a strange noise on the window-pane. -They listened. The noise was repeated. - -“Is it rain?” asked Juliette. - -“No,” said Carpentaria, “it’s gravel.” - -He went out on to the balcony. A form was discernible in the avenue -below. - -“Is that you, Miss Dartmouth?” he whispered. - -“Yes,” came the reply. “I----” - -“Hush!” he warned her. “I’ll be with you in a second.” - -With a brief explanation to Juliette, he hastened downstairs and let -himself out of the house. Pauline was already standing at the door. - -“Anything happened?” he questioned her. - -“Nothing has happened,” said Pauline, “but there is something extremely -curious, all the same, in our house. It is a most singular thing that -the housemaid, who never forgets anything, forgot just to-night to leave -some milk in my room--a thing which I had specially reminded her to -remember, so I rang the bell for her. There is a bell that communicates -direct with her room--it used to be in Mrs. Ilam’s bedroom, but we have -had it changed--there was no answer. I rang again. No answer. You -know, I’m the sort of person that can’t stand that sort of thing from -servants, so I went upstairs to her. She was not in her room. There -are two beds in that room, the second one for the cook. Both beds were -empty; they had neither of them been slept in. I went into the rooms of -the other servants. They are all empty. Rosie and I and Mrs. Ilam are -alone in the house.” - -Carpentaria paused. - -“Did you tell your sister?” - -“No, I came straight here.” - -“That was very discreet of you,” said Carpentaria. - -“I am beginning to get frightened,” Pauline added. “What can it mean? -All the servants gone----” - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI--The Empty Bedroom - -Within the bungalow of the Ilams there remained only two persons who -were legally entitled to be there, and those persons were Mrs. -Ilam, motionless for ever, but with her bright, tragic eyes staring -continually at the same point in the ceiling, and Rosie Dartmouth. These -two women, however, were decidedly not alone in the house. It was a -large house, a bungalow more by the character of its architecture and -its many balconies, than by its size and shape. Most bungalows are long -and low; this one was long without being low. On the ground floor were -the reception rooms and kitchen offices; on the first floor were the -principal bedrooms; and above these was a low-ceiled floor of servants’ -bedrooms. Nor was that all; for the steeply-sloping roof had been -utilized by an architect who hated to waste space as a miser hates to -waste money, and hence, above even the servants’ floor was a vast attic, -serviceable for storage. The attic was reached by a little flight of -stairs of its own, and it was lighted by two panes of glass let into the -roof, one on either side. - -The ground-floor and the servants’ floor were now dark and uninhabited. -On the first floor the only occupied room was the bedchamber of Mrs. -Ilam, where Rosie stood nervously by the mantelpiece in an attitude -of uneasy expectation. The sole illumination was given by the small -rose-shaded lamp, which threw a circle of light on the white cloth of -the invalid’s night-table; all else, including Rosie, was in gloom. - -Rosie was evidently listening--the door was ajar--and after a few -moments she stepped hastily outside on to the landing, and glanced up -the well of the staircase. At the summit of the staircase she saw the -door of the great attic open, and a figure emerge; the figure, which -was carrying a small electric lantern, carefully locked the door of the -attic behind it, and then, with some deliberation, descended the narrow -attic stairs, and, more quietly, the stairs from the servants’ floor to -the first floor. - -The figure was that of Mr. Jetsam, clothed in his eternal suit of blue -serge. - -The stairs and landing were quite dark, save for his lantern and the -faint glimmer that came from Mrs. Ilam’s bedroom. Mr. Jetsam had moved -without a sound, for he was wearing thick felt slippers. He did not -immediately notice Rosie on the landing, and when the light of his -lantern caught and showed her dress, he started back slightly. Rosie -made no move. - -“I did not expect you to be there,” he whispered. - -She regarded him with steady eyes, and then, without a word, motioned -him to proceed further downstairs to the ground-floor. - -“You want to talk to me?” he whispered again. - -He had a voice which was curiously capable of being almost inaudible, -and yet at the same time distinct. - -She nodded. - -He pointed to the open door of Mrs. Ilam’s room, but Rosie shook her -head. - -“Why not?” he demanded. - -She shook her head once more, and they went downstairs to the -dining-room, both silently creeping. With infinite precautions he opened -the dining-room door, and shut it when they had entered. - -“It would have been better to remain upstairs,” he said mildly. “The -least possible movement is dangerous enough. At this stage a creaking -stair might spoil the whole business.” - -“I cannot talk there,” she said. - -“But, since Mrs. Ilam is utterly helpless,” he protested, “what can it -matter what she hears? She cannot talk.” - -“The fact that she hears is more than enough to upset me,” said Rosie. -“I am like that, you see. I know it is silly, but I can’t help it. I -wanted to tell you that I have just had a dreadful scene with Pauline.” - -“A dreadful scene! You’ve not quarrelled?” he demanded anxiously. - -“Oh, no! But I’ve lied to her--I’ve lied to her in the most shocking -way, and, what is worse, I fancy she didn’t quite believe me.” - -“She suspects something?” - -His tone sounded apprehensive in the gloom. - -“I don’t know; I hope not. In any case, what can she suspect? She’s been -in bed all the time.” - -“True,” said Mr. Jetsam reflectively. “True! You have behaved -magnificently, Miss Rosie. Never, never, in this world, shall I be able -to thank you. I had not thought that such a woman as you existed. -You have given me the first sympathy I have ever had. Yes, the -first!--without you I could never have succeeded. I could scarcely have -begun. And now I shall succeed. Listen to me--I shall succeed! A -wrong will be righted. Justice will be done. If it isn’t, I shall kill -myself.” - -He finished grimly, as it were, ferociously. - -“Don’t say that,” pleaded Rosie. - -He laughed. Then he lifted the little lantern and threw its ray on her -face. She did not flinch. “You are very pale,” he remarked softly. - -“What do you expect?” she answered. “You have gone much further--very -much further than I ever dreamt of. You have led me on.” - -“No,” he said, “it is your own kindness of heart, your sympathy with the -unfortunate that has led you on. I assure you I was never so bold before -I met you, before I appealed to you that night when you stood on your -balcony. Do you regret? If you tell me to stop, to abandon my plans and -depart--well, I will depart.” - -She smiled sadly. - -“I do not want you to do that,” she said. “Nevertheless, I tremble for -what you have done.” - -“Do not tremble,” he said coaxingly. “If I am not safe here, where am I -safe? Is not this the very last place where anyone would expect to find -me and my--my booty?” - -“But, then, sending the servants away,” she exclaimed. - -“Nothing simpler,” he commented. - -“I don’t know how I did it,” she mused, as if aghast at the memory of -what she had achieved; “and as for to-morrow, how I shall explain it to -Pauline I really can’t imagine!” - -“To-morrow,” he said, “everything will be over one way or the other; you -will be able to resume your habit of speaking the truth. By the way,” he -went on, in a tone carefully careless, “you managed to do what I asked -you with the boat?” - -“Yes,” she replied. - -“Did you meet anyone?” - -“Not a soul.” - -“And you pulled the plug out and cut the boat: adrift?” - -“Pulled the plug out and cut the boat adrift!” she repeated after him, -amazed. “No; you never told me to do that!” - -“Pardon me,” he said, “that was the most important thing of all. It is -essential that there should be no trace of the boat.” - -“I didn’t understand,” she faltered. “I’m so sorry. I never heard----” - -“I regret I didn’t make myself more clear,” he remarked. “You see, at -intervals during the night the watchmen do their patrols, and I know -there is a regular inspection of the terrace. Supposing the boat is -seen?” - -“I really don’t remember, that you asked me to do that,” she persisted. - -“Anyhow,” he said politely, “what you have done deserves all my praise -and gratitude. But----” - -“You would like me to go and sink the boat, wouldn’t you?” - -“I hesitate to ask you. It is really too much----” - -“Yes, yes,” she said passionately. “I will go and do it--alone.” Then -she paused. “But suppose I meet the patrol?” - -“You are you,” was Jetsam’s response. “You are the President’s cousin. -You have the right to amuse yourself with a boat, at no matter what hour -of the day or night.” - -“Just so,” she admitted. “I will go now. I shall be back quite soon. -Shall you be ready by the time I return?” - -“Yes,” he said. - -“Everything is all right?” She seemed to question him anxiously. - -“Quite all right,” he said; “Let me thank you again.” - -With an impulsive movement he took her hand and kissed it. She blushed -and trembled. Then he opened the door and they passed out into the hall. - -“I will unfasten the front-door for you,” he whispered. “I think I can -do it more quietly than you. It may be left on the latch till you come -back;” and he unfastened the front-door. Through its panes a faint light -entered the hall. - -“I must get my hat,” she said. - -They went upstairs. - -“I’ll leave you,” he whispered. “You can manage?” - -She nodded. He put the light on a bracket on the landing and ascended to -the upper parts of the house. Rosie went into her bedroom. When she -came out, wearing a hat, she noticed for the first time that the door of -Pauline’s bedroom was not shut. She pushed it open very carefully, -and peered in. A feeble reflection of the moonlight redeemed it from -absolute obscurity, and Rosie perceived that the bed was unoccupied, -that it had not even been slept in. Instantly her mind became full of -suspicions. Had Pauline lied to her as she had lied to Pauline? Was her -part in the plot of Mr. Jetsam discovered? No, impossible! And yet--Then -she recollected having heard, or having thought that she had heard, -the distant ringing of one of the service-bells in the house some time -before Mr. Jetsam came downstairs. She had forgotten to mention this -disturbing fact to Mr. Jetsam. Evidently he had not heard the ringing, -or he would have questioned her about it. Supposing they were being -watched, after all? And in any case where was Pauline? Pauline had given -her to understand that she had retired to rest, and lo! the bed had not -been touched! Full of tremors, she silently shut the door on the empty -room. - -She remembered Jetsam’s threat of what he should do if his plans failed, -and she hesitated. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII--The Photograph - -Mr. Jetsam, having with an attentive ear heard the vague sound of the -shutting of a door, came out a second time from the mysterious attic -and descended the stairs. He was a man to omit no precautions, and every -door that he passed he locked on the outside, not only on the servants’ -floor, but on the first floor. He penetrated then to the ground-floor, -and fastened not merely every door, but every window. At last he arrived -at the front door. - -“It’s a pity to lock her out,” he murmured to himself; “but what can -I do? It would be madness to let her assist at the scene I have to go -through. She expects to, but I must disappoint her.” - -And he noiselessly bolted and locked the front door. - -The fact was that Mr. Jetsam’s plans had been slightly deranged. He had -hoped to get through his great scene--the scene to which all his efforts -had tended--during Rosie’s first absence on the river. He relied on -Rosie; he had been amazed at her goodness and her fortitude; he had been -still more amazed at his singular influence over her; and he naturally -told her a great deal. But he did not tell her quite everything. He -feared to frighten her. Hence proceeded one of his reasons for sending -her to the boat, with the object of sinking the coffer further in the -river as the tide fell. But she had dispatched the business with such -extraordinary celerity, and he, on his part, had been so hindered by -such an unexpected contretemps, that she was back again before even he -had begun. - -Thus, he had been obliged to invent a new errand for her, and he -flattered himself that he had invented the errand, and dispatched her on -it, with a certain histrionic skill--and he had the right so to flatter -himself. It desolated him to deceive her, to hoodwink her; but he saw no -alternative. - -Having secured the house, he ascended again, this time taking less care -to maintain an absolute silence, to the first floor. The affair was -fully launched now, and no one could interrupt him. If Pauline awoke -in her locked bedroom and heard things, so much the worse for her, he -reflected. She could not go out on to her balcony because he had seen -long ago to the fastening of the window. Therefore she might cry as much -as she liked. He laughed as he thought of this, not having the least -idea that he had so elaborately fastened the door and the window of an -empty room. - -He went into Mrs. Ilam’s bedroom with a slight swagger, and shut the -door. A fire was burning in the grate. He cast a single glance at the -bed and its mute and helpless occupant, and putting his little lantern -on the mantelpiece, he walked round the room, inspecting its arrangement -and its corners. Then, suddenly remembering his own burglarious exploit -of forcing an entrance into the room by the window, he approached the -window, flung it wide open and stepped outside on to the balcony. -Far across the expanse of the Oriental Gardens, in the moonlight, he -discerned a figure vaguely moving in the direction of the river. It was -a woman’s figure. - -“There she is,” he murmured. “Admirable creature! Why did I not meet -such a woman when I was younger?” - -Then he came in again, shut and fastened the window, and drew the heavy -curtains across it, taking care that no chink was left through which -light could be seen. Then he began to whistle softly, and he turned on -all the electricity in the apartment; there were a cluster of lamps -in the ceiling, and two lights over’ the dressing-table, besides the -table-lamps, and his own trifling gleam of a lantern. The room was -brilliantly, almost blindingly, lit, and every object stood revealed. - -He stepped towards the bed, and deliberately gazed into the eyes of -the stricken old woman. Mrs. Ilam’s burning orbs blinked at intervals. -Otherwise she gave no sign of volition or of life. Jetsam placed -his eyes in the fixed line of her gaze, so that they were obliged to -exchange a glance. She appeared to be unconscious of it. Only a scarcely -perceptible trémulation ran along her arms, which lay stretched, as -usual, outside the coverlet, like the arms of a corpse. - -“Well,” said Jetsam, “here I am at last, you see. Do you recognize me? -I’ve changed, haven’t I, old hag? But you can’t be mistaken in me.” - -The pent-up bitterness of a lifetime escaped from him in the tones of -his voice. But the old woman showed no symptom that the terrible past -was thus revisiting her in its most awful form. - -“You thought I was dead, didn’t you?” Jetsam continued. “For over forty -years you have been sure that I was dead, and that your crime was one of -the thousands of crimes which go unpunished. And look here,” he went on; -“if you have any doubt, murderess, as to my identity, look at this. I’ll -make you look at it, by heaven!” - -He bent down, drew up the trouser of his left leg to the knee, and -pushed the sock into his boot, so that the calf of the leg was -exposed. On the fleshy part of the calf could be plainly seen a large -birth-stain. With the movement of an acrobat he raised that leg over -the bed, over the eyes of Mrs. Ilam, and held it there during several -seconds. Then he dropped it. - -“There!” he exclaimed. “That’s to show you who it is you have to deal -with.” - -His voice was cruel, icy, and inexorable. He had no pity, no trace -of mercy, for the woman who, whatever the enormity of her sins, was -entitled to some respect by reason of her extreme age, her absolutely -defenceless condition, and her suffering. - -“They tell me you can answer ‘yes’ or ‘no,’” he said, “by your eyelids. -Blinking means ‘yes,’ and no movement means ‘no.’ I am going to put some -questions to you. Did you take the photograph out of the box? Answer.” - -Mrs. Ilam closed her eyes and kept them closed. - -“What does that mean?” Jetsam grumbled. “Open your eyes again, -murderess.” - -But Mrs. Ilam did not open her eyes again. She obstinately kept them -closed; and she might have been asleep, except that now and then a tear -exuded from under the lids. - -“I’ll make you open them,” cried Jetsam. - -His hand approached the old woman’s eyes, but even his implacable and -cruel bitterness recoiled from the coward villainy of touching that -stricken and helpless organism. He drew back his hand, and some -glimmering sense of the dreadfulness of the scene which he was acting -reached his heart. The thought ran through his brain that it was a good -thing Rosie had not been present. - -“Very well,” he said, “as you like. Only I know that you, or one of you, -must have taken that photograph out of the box, and I have every reason -to believe that it is in this room. In any case I mean to know very -shortly whether it is or not.” - -So saying, he went abruptly out of the room, shutting the door, and -climbed once more to the attic. - -“Jakel” he called quietly. - -And a Soudanese, the brother of Ilam’s protector, “Spats,” obediently -appeared. - -“I am ready,” said Jetsam. “Come, pass in front of me. I will lock the -door myself.” - -They went together to Mrs. Ilam’s bedroom. - -“You know how to search, Jake?” Jetsam instructed him. “Everything in -this room has to be searched to find a photograph--a photograph, you -know--the same sort of thing as this.” And he pointed to a portrait of -Josephus Ilam that stood on the mantelpiece. - -The Soudanese nodded. - -“Begin with the chest of drawers,” he said. - -In a quarter of an hour the room was in such a state of havoc as might -have resulted from the passage through it of a cyclone. Every drawer in -every piece of furniture had been ransacked and emptied. The Soudanese -had even climbed on a chair in order to inspect the top of the wardrobe, -and had dislodged therefrom a pile of cardboard boxes. Every book had -been torn to pieces. Piles of letters lay scattered about. The floor was -heaped up with Mrs. Ilam’s private possessions. Chairs were overturned. -One or two vases with narrow necks and wide bases had been smashed in -order the better to search their interiors. The place was wrecked. But -the mysterious photograph which Jetsam wanted had not been discovered. -The Soudanese had found dozens of photographs, but not the right one. - -The bed of the invalid was alone undisturbed. Among all the ruins of the -chamber it remained untouched, white, apparently inviolate, and the -old woman’s arms lay ever in the same position, and her eyes, open and -blazing now, gazed ever at the same spot in the ceiling. - -“I have it!” exclaimed Jetsam suddenly. “The bed--the bed! The box was -hidden under the bed, but I got it. The photograph is hidden under the -bed, and I will get it.” - -He hesitated. Dare he search the bed? Dare he disturb its helpless -burden? He wondered. He was ready for anything. He was capable of -slaughter, but he wavered and retreated before the idea of searching for -the photograph in the place where the box had been. - -Then he suddenly decided. - -“Take firm hold of the bed itself, not the mattress,” he ordered the -Soudanese, “and I will take hold on this side. Be very gentle. Do not -disarrange the clothes. We will lift it over the foot of the bedstead -and place it on the floor. Carefully now--carefully!” - -And with the utmost delicacy the two men lifted the bed bodily and laid -it very gently on the floor, and Mrs. Ilam’s gaze was directed to a new -point: of the ceiling. - -“That will be a change for you,” said Jetsam, with a touch of -compunction in his voice. “I was obliged to do it. We’ll put you back -presently.” - -And he searched thoroughly the mattress and the bedstead, but there was -no photograph. - -He paused and wiped, his brow. The Soudanese stood at attention by the -side of the bed. Jetsam looked at Jake. - -“Go and fetch him down,” he said peremptorily to the Soudanese. - -And Jake vanished. - -“One way or another this shall end,” he murmured, gazing at the old -woman in her lowly position among the heaped confusion of the floor; and -he waited, eyeing at intervals the door. - -At length the door opened, and the Soudanese came in, and he was leading -by the hand Josephus Ilam. Jetsam stepped quickly behind them and shut -and locked the door. - -“Now then, Ilam,” said he, “sit down. Make him sit down, Jake.” - -And quite obediently Ilam sat down on a chair, near the night-table. -He made no remark; he scarcely looked round; his senses seemed to be -dulled; it was as though his mind had retired to some fastness from -which it refused to emerge. - -“What do you want?” Ilam demanded gloomily. “What have you been doing?” - -“I’m going to make one last appeal to you, Ilam,” said Jetsam. “I -kidnapped you for this, I may tell you. I was determined to confront the -mother and the son if necessity should arise. But you nearly did for me -by swallowing too much of that blessed opiate. You are clumsy, even -when you are a victim. However, you’ve got over it nicely, haven’t you? -Pretty notion, wasn’t it,” he continued, “to conceal you in your own -attic, where no one would ever think of looking for you? But it wanted -doing, my weighty friend--it wanted doing.” - -“What are you after?” Ilam asked again, as if in the grip of one fixed -idea. “You’ve got the money--what else do you want?” - -“You know perfectly well what I want,” said Jetsam. “My case is complete -except for that photograph, and I’ve secured as much money as will keep -me on my pins till I’ve forced you to see reason. But the photograph is -lacking; you are aware of that. It’s certainly rather hard lines on you -that you should be forced to give up the very thing whose possession by -me will ruin you. But what would you have? I am desperate, and no one -knows better than you and this sad creature here that my cause is just. -Tell me where the photograph is.” - -“I don’t know what you mean,” said Ilam doggedly. - -Jetsam turned to Mrs. Ilam. - -“Listen, murderess,” he said, and Ilam shuddered at that word: “if you -do not answer my questions I will kill your son before your eyes. Does -Ilam know where the photograph is?” - -Once again the old woman obstinately shut her eyes and refused to give -any indication. - -Ilam, who seemed mentally to be quickly regaining his normal state, -stood up and moved to the fireplace. - -“Stand!” said Jetsam angrily, and he drew his revolver from his pocket. -“I will know where that photograph is or I will hang for you. I shall -not be the first man who has died in a good cause. Now, where is that -photograph? Did you or your mother take it out of the box?” - -He lifted the revolver. - -“I took it out of the box,” snarled Ilam--“I--I--I--and my mother knew -nothing.” - -“And where is it?” asked Jetsam, smiling triumphantly. - -“It is here,” Ilam cried, and he took a faded photograph from his breast -pocket. “You never thought of searching me, eh? Ass!” - -“Give it me,” said Jetsam quietly. - -“No,” said Ilam; and with a sudden movement he stuck it in the fire. - -The flame destroyed it in an instant. - -Jetsam sprang towards him, and then fell back as if stunned. Jetsam was -beaten, after all. He gave a sort of groan and walked to the other side -of the room, as if in a dream. He had failed, and he meant to commit -suicide. All his trouble, all his risks, had gone for nothing. He raised -the revolver again, and no one in the room quite guessed the tragedy -that was preparing for them. His finger was on the trigger. - -Immediately behind him was a draught-screen, and the draught-screen -began mysteriously to sink forward. It lodged lightly on his shoulders. -He turned, the revolver at his temple; and round the screen, from behind -it, appeared Rosie. - -“Don’t do that,” she said calmly, and she took the revolver out of his -unresisting hand. - -Jetsam turned round, saw that the person who had so mysteriously -interfered was Rosie herself, and sank down on a chair. - -“You have done me an evil turn,” he breathed, at the same time with a -gesture ordering the Soudanese to leave the room. - -“I have saved your life,” she said simply. - -“Yes,” he replied, with a trace of bitterness. “That is what I mean. You -are not the first who has saved my life. And if the first saviour had -refrained we should all have been happier now.” - -“Do not say that,” she whispered. “I----” - -“You--you would never have met me,” he said curtly. - -“I am glad I have met you,” she retorted, bravely facing him. - -“Ah!” he sighed. “And yet you play tricks on me! Yet you make promises -to me and break them!” - -“No, no,” she cried. “I only promised to go to the boat, and I would -have gone to the boat afterwards.” - -“Why did you not go at once?” - -She told him how she had gone by accident into Pauline’s bedroom and -found it empty, and how thus all her suspicions were aroused. - -“I was afraid your plans might fail,” she said; “and you had threatened -to kill yourself if they failed; and I thought something dreadful -might happen during my absence. And so--so--I hid myself here--without -thinking. I’m so sorry.” - -And tears came to her eyes. - -“A few minutes ago I might have been seriously perturbed by what you -have told me,” said Jetsam. “But what does it matter now? If your -sister is against me, if the house is surrounded by spies, it makes no -difference. I wanted to kill this man here. I should have killed him; -but I thought of the annoyance it would give you. Yes,” he smiled, “I -did really. Not to mention the futile trouble it would cause me. And on -the whole I regarded it as simpler and neater to kill myself. But you -have stopped that. Will you oblige me by putting down that revolver? It -is at full cock.” - -“You will not touch it?” she demanded. - -“I will not touch it,” he replied. - -She laid it at the foot of the bed, and then bent down inquiringly to -old Mrs. Ilam, who rested with closed eyes. - -“She is asleep,” murmured Rosie. - -“Through all this?” - -“Yes, thank heaven! She sleeps very heavily sometimes. Will you not put -the bed back in its place? I do not like to see it here. It is painful, -very painful, in spite of all you have told me about her, to see this. -She is very old and very helpless.” During the conversation Ilam had -remained in a sort of stupor. It was as though the effort of putting the -photograph in the fire, and then the shock of Rosie’s sudden appearance, -had exhausted the energies which he had managed with difficulty to -collect as the results of the narcotic passed away; it was as though -the narcotic had resumed its sway over him for a time. But now he came -brusquely forward, taking two long steps across the room, and stood -between Rosie and Jetsam, and he put his face quite close to Rosie’s -face, as an actor does to an actress on the stage. - -“Are you this scoundrel’s accomplice?” he asked hoarsely. - -“Cousin,” said Rosie, “Mr. Jetsam is not a scoundrel, and I am nobody’s -accomplice.” - -“He has nearly killed me, and he has robbed me of two thousand five -hundred pounds,” pursued Ilam. “If that is not being a scoundrel, what -is? Tell me that. You are his accomplice. You came into this house to -serve his ends.” - -“Indeed, I did not,” protested Rosie, “I came into this house with my -sister at your urgent request.” - -“Yes,” sneered Ilam. “That is what you made me believe, you chit! You -worked it very well; but I know different now.” - -“Until I came here I had never seen Mr. Jetsam,” said Rosie. - -“You have come to understand each other remarkably well in quite a few -days.” - -“Perhaps we have,” admitted the girl. “But if you object you have a -simple remedy.” - -“What is that?” - -“You say he is a thief and almost a murderer. You say that I am his -accomplice; we are criminals therefore. Bring us to justice. Have the -entire affair thrashed out, Cousin Ilam.” - -“You know that I cannot do that,” said Ilam. - -“I am well aware that you dare not,” said Rosie. “The scandal would be -intolerable. Think of Pauline’s feelings.” - -“But suppose Pauline, too, is in the conspiracy?” - -“There would always be the scandal. It would ruin the City.” - -“It is neither the scandal nor the City that you are thinking of, Cousin -Ilam,” said Rosie. “It is merely yourself or your mother. If it is your -mother, well and good.” - -Ilam retired a couple of paces, uncertain what to say in reply, and -possibly fearing some attack from Mr. Jetsam, who stood behind him. -There was a silence, and then Ilam murmured: - -“Ah! my poor mother, sleeping there in the midst of all this!” - -It was a cry from the strange man’s heart, and another silence ensued. -The situation had reached such a point as baffled all the parties to it -to discover a solution. - -It was Jetsam who broke the silence. - -“I will leave you,” he said in a low voice. - -“Good-bye,” he said, as no one replied. - -“Where are you going to?” asked Rosie. - -“I am merely going,” answered Jetsam. - -“But you will tell me where?” she insisted. - -“It is vague,” he replied. “Out of your life--that is all I can say. It -was too much to hope that at the end of a career which has been one long -and uninterrupted misfortune the sun of happiness should shine on me. -I was destined to failure from the beginning. You do not know all -my story; but you know some of it--enough to enable you, perhaps, to -forgive me. Good-bye!” - -He moved to the door. - -“You will not leave me like that,” said Rosie. “You dare not leave me -like that. You are going to kill yourself.” - -“No,” he said. “I have got over that caprice, I think. I shall drag out -my existence to its natural end.” - -“Give me your address,” Rosie said doggedly. - -He shook his head. - -“You are cruel,” she whimpered. “After----” - -She was interrupted by Ilam himself, who said: - -“Rosie, go downstairs. I have two words to speak to this fellow. Go -downstairs. Leave us.” His tone was cold and acid. - -“Yes,” Jetsam agreed after a moment. “Leave us; we have to speak to each -other.” - -“You will not go without seeing me?” asked Rosie. - -“I will not,” replied Jetsam, and the next instant the two men were -alone together in the room, save for the unconscious form of Mrs. Ilam. - -The door had been locked again, this time by Ilam. - -“She is in love with you,” Ilam shouted fiercely. “You have imposed on -her; you have taken advantage of her ignorance of life, and she is in -love with you! It is infamous. I am stronger than you, and unless you -promise me----” - -“Idiot!” Jetsam stopped him. “What are you raving about? You must be -mad. You must have forgotten--as your mother forgets. As for this poor -girl being in love with me-----” He stopped with a hard laugh. “What has -that to do with you?” - -“It has everything to do with me,” cried Ilam, and, as if transported -by fury, he suddenly sprang on Jetsam, who was all unprepared, and, -clasping him in a murderous embrace, threw him to the ground. “I’ve had -enough of you,” he ground out the words through his teeth. “And if I -finish you, I can easily show that it was in self-defence.” - -And he had scarcely spoken when his hands fell lax in astonishment -and alarm, for immediately outside the window, or so it seemed, there -sounded four notes of a trombone, brazen, clear, and imposing in the -night. No one who has heard Beethoven’s greatest symphony will ever -forget the four notes--commonly called the notes of fate--with which the -most tremendous of musical compositions opens. It was these notes which -the trombone had given forth. There was a silence, and the instrument -repeated them, and in the next pause that followed, the two men who an -instant before had been joined in a dreadful struggle, lay moveless, -listening to their own breathing; and a third time the trombone sounded. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII--The Dead March - -When Pauline, standing outside Carpentaria’s bungalow, had communicated -to Carpentaria the fateful fact that all Ilam’s servants had disappeared -from their rooms, and had given expression to the vague and terrible -fear that was beginning to take possession of her, the musician said in -reply: - -“You have every reason to be afraid, and yet I shall ask you to try to -calm your apprehensions. Whether the servants are there or not, nobody -can get into your house without our knowing it, and when anybody starts -to attempt to get in, there will be plenty of time for you to alarm -yourself then.” - -“But Rosie alone there with poor Mrs. Ilam!” sighed Pauline. - -“Mrs. Ilam can’t do her any harm, at any rate,” said Carpentaria -comfortingly. - -And with that he commenced a cautious perambulation of the exterior of -Ilam’s house, Pauline following him. - -“I wish you would go to my sister until I have something to report,” - he murmured. “You will take cold, and you will work yourself up into a -fever, and do no good to anybody.” - -“I shall not work myself up into a fever,” replied Pauline firmly. “I -am capable of being just as calm as you are yourself. Let us go at once -into the house--let us go to Rosie.” - -“What!” expostulated Carpentaria, “and spoil whatever scheme is going -on? No, my dear young lady, we have gone so far that we must go a -little further. We must catch the schemers red-handed. If we do not, our -night’s work will have been wasted.” - -The idea of weakly and pusillanimously changing a course of conduct -at the very moment when that course promised the most interesting -adventures shocked all the artist in him. - -They stared blankly at the house, whose form was clearly revealed in the -misty moonlight, but none of whose windows showed the slightest glimmer -of light. It was an extremely modern tenement, and its architecture was -in no way startlingly original; nevertheless, in those moments it -seemed to both of them the strangest, the most mysterious, the most -insubstantial house that the hand of man had ever raised. - -Suddenly Pauline clutched his arm. - -“I hear some one walking somewhere in the grounds,” she said. - -They both listened. In the stillness of the night regular steps sounded -plainly from a distance. - -“It is the patrol on the terrace,” said Carpentaria. - -“It is assuredly on the terrace--the sound of heavy boots on stone -flags, isn’t it?” - -“Yes,” Pauline agreed, loosing his arm. - -They were twenty or thirty yards from the house. - -“I want you to be brave and to do something for me.” - -Carpentaria turned to her. - -“What is it?” - -“Go to the patrol, and tell him I have sent you, and that he is to -remain within sight of the boat there, until further orders, keeping as -much in the background as possible. Will you go?” - -“Alone?” - -“Alone. There is no danger. Besides, one of us must remain here, and one -person can more easily keep out of sight than two. My fear is that the -boat may be used again. The patrol is not to prevent the boat -being used. He is not to show himself; he is merely to observe. You -understand?” - -“Then you insist on my going?” - -“No, I entreat you to go.” - -And without more words she went. It was her figure, and not the figure -of Rosie, that Mr. Jetsam had seen in the gardens when he peeped out of -the window of Mrs. Ilam’s bedroom. - -Carpentaria, now alone, recommenced from a fresh spot his vigil over -the closed house. He argued with himself with much ingenuity as to -what point the persons who wished to enter it would choose for their -appearance, but he could decide nothing. They might, he thought, come by -the avenue, or round by the back from the other side of the buildings of -the Central Way, or even through the gardens. He was growing impatient -of a delay apparently interminable, and then his glance happened to -wander upwards to the roof of the house. He could not see the roof -itself, because he was now too near the wall, but it appeared to him -that he detected a phenomenon above the roof which was somewhat unusual. -He walked carefully away from the house until the expanse of roof became -visible; and, indeed, he had not been mistaken. There was a radiance -there. The small square pane of the attic, flat with the surface of the -roof itself, was illuminated, and sent up a faint shaft of light into -the sky. - -Instantly he saw his own shortcomings as a counter-schemer against -schemers. He had assumed that the schemers were not already in the -house, whereas he had had no grounds for such an assumption. The -schemers were most obviously in the house, and they had most obviously -been there for a considerable time, since no one could have recently -entered it without his knowledge. He was angry with the schemers, and he -was more angry with himself, and one of those wild ideas seized him--one -of those ideas which could only occur to a Carpentaria. He would -catch these schemers himself, by his own devices, and he would do it -leisurely, dramatically, and effectively. He would make such a capture -as never had been made before. He did not know precisely who the -schemers were, nor their numbers, nor their nefarious occupations in -the house; and he did not care. When once he was in the toils of a -grand romantic idea he cared for nothing except the execution of it. He -laughed with joy. - -“Why do you laugh?” said a voice behind him. - -It was Pauline, who had returned. She had given the instructions to the -patrol. - -“An idea,” he replied--“a notion that appealed to me.” And then -he perceived that he must at all costs get rid of Pauline, and he -continued: “My sister is extremely disturbed,” he said. “Will you not, -as a last favour, go and stay with her? Do not refuse me this. I will -find some one to assist me in my work here--one of my trombone-players -on whom I can rely. I--I really do not care for you to be out here like -this. The strain is too much for you.” - -“But Rosie----” she objected again. - -“Rosie is all right,” he reassured her. “I will answer for Rosie’s -safety with my life; and when I say that, I mean it.” - -“I will do as you wish,” said Pauline at length. - -“Let me see you into the house,” he murmured, enchanted. - -He unlocked his front-door for her, and called out softly, “Juliette!” - -“Is that you, Carlos?” said a voice in the darkness at the top of the -stairs. - -“Yes,” he said. “Here is Miss Dartmouth come to keep you company. Do not -use a light--at least, use as little light as possible, until you hear -some music.” - -“Hear some music? What music?” - -“Never mind what music. If you should hear some music you will know that -you are at liberty to turn on all the lights you like. Miss Dartmouth -will tell you why I want darkness at present. Here are the stairs, Miss -Dartmouth. Cling to the rail. _Au revoir._” - -“But----” faltered Pauline. - -“_Au revoir_, I said,” he whispered insistently. - -Before leaving the house he rushed into the kitchen, found a long -clothes-line, of which he seemed to know exactly the whereabouts, and -appropriated it. - -The next minute he was tying the handle of Ilam’s front-door firmly to -the railing, so that it would be impossible to open the door from the -inside. He secured in the same manner the side-door and also the gate -in the wall of the kitchen yard. He then fixed pieces of rope under -windows, in such a manner that a person endeavouring to leap from a -window to the ground would almost certainly be caught in the rope, and -break a leg or an arm, if not a neck or so. - -“Cheerful for them!” he murmured maliciously. “I only hope it won’t be -Miss Rosie who tries to make her exit by the window. I have answered for -her. However, I must take the risks.” - -He glanced finally round the house, throwing away some short unused -pieces of rope, but keeping two long pieces. He surveyed the house with -satisfaction. - -“I think I can safely leave it for five minutes or so now,” he said to -himself; and he shut his penknife with a vicious snap and put it in his -pocket. - -Then he ran off at a great speed in the direction of the Central Way. -At the southern end of the Central Way, nearly opposite to the general -offices of the City, was an elegant building known as the band-house. -Here dwelt the majority of the members of Carpentaria’s world-renowned -orchestra. Some members, being married to women instead of married to -their art, had permission to possess domestic hearths in London and the -suburbs, but these were few. The edifice was a very large one, as it. -had need to be. A peculiar feature of it was the rehearsal-room on the -top floor, constructed, like the finest flats in New York, in such a -manner as to be absolutely sound-proof. - -Carpentaria rang the electric bell at the portals of the band-house, and -the portals were presently opened by a sleepy person whose duty it was -to admit bandsmen returning after late leave. - -“Look ’ere,” said the porter, “this is a bit thick, this is. Do you -know as the hour is exactly----” - -“Hold your tongue, you fool!” Carpentaria stopped him briefly, “and go -and bring Mr. Bruno to me at once; it’s very important. Let’s have some -light.” - -“I beg pardon, sir,” said the porter, astounded by this nocturnal -apparition of the autocrat of the band. “Mr. Bruno is asleep, sir. He -had two whiskies to make him sleep, and went to bed afore midnight, -sir.” - -“I know he’s asleep. Do you suppose I thought he was standing on his -head waiting for the dawn? Go and waken him--and quicker than that! -Here, I’ll go with you.” - -The two men went upstairs together, and Mr. Bruno, principal -trombone-player of the band, was soon sitting up in bed, awaking to the -presence of his chief. - -“Bruno, my lad,” said Carpentaria, “give me your trombone.” - -“My trombone, sir?” - -“Yes,” said Carpentaria. “Mendelssohn once remarked that the trombone -was an instrument too sacred to use often, but I think the supreme -occasion has arrived for me to use it to-night.” - -“It’s there, in the corner, sir,” said Bruno, wondering vaguely what was -this latest caprice of Carpentaria’s. - -Carpentaria rushed to the thing, took it out of its case, and put it to -his mouth. - -“H’m!” he murmured, after he had sounded a note gently. “I can do it, -I think. Listen, Bruno! The occasion is not only supreme; it is -unique. You are to rouse all the men; you are to dress, and take your -instruments; and you are to go out quietly and surround the bungalow of -our honoured President, Mr. Josephus Ilam. You are to make no noise of -any kind until you hear me give the first bars of a tune, either with my -mouth or with this instrument. You are then to join in that tune.” - -“What tune, sir?” - -“You will hear.” - -“Where shall you be, sir?” - -“You will see. Get up, now; don’t lose a second.” Carpentaria was off -again. He returned to Ilam’s house, and climbed to the balcony of the -window of Mrs. Ilam’s bedroom. It was fortunate that he had preserved -the rope, for he could not have climbed with the trombone in his arms. -His method was to leave the trombone on the ground, the rope tied to -it; he kept the other end of the rope in his hand, and drew the trombone -after him. - -Then it was that he sounded on the trombone the terrible phrase of -Beethoven’s, which put a period to the struggle between Ilam and Jetsam. - -He felt for the handle of the French window, and, finding the window -fastened on the inside, adopted the simple device of leaning with his -full weight against the window-frame. The whole thing gave way, and -through a crashing of glass, a splintering of wood, and the tearing of -curtains he backed into the room, the trombone held precariously in one -hand and his revolver very firmly in the other. - -The scene that confronted him was sufficiently surprising. Amid the -extraordinary disorder of the chamber he found its three occupants all -stretched on the floor. The old woman was apparently oblivious, but the -two men, releasing each other, gazed at him for all the world like two -schoolboys caught in an act contrary to discipline. - -“Did I startle you? I hope so,” said Carpentaria, when he had found his -bearings. “I meant to.” - -Jetsam was the first to rise. - -“You with the red hair!” cried Jetsam. “You are trying to save my life -again!” - -“Never mind my red hair,” said Carpentaria, ruffled. “I am not trying -to save anybody’s life. I’m here on a mission of inquiry. No one leaves -this room until I have had a full explanation of everything. I have -stood just about as much as I can stand of the mystery that has been -hanging over this City for a week past. Ilam, let me beg you to get up -and take a seat over there in that corner. Thanks!” - -He relinquished the musical instrument as Ilam clumsily resumed his feet -and obeyed. - -“As for you, Mr. Jetsam,” continued Carpentaria, “you know, from -accounts which have reached me, the precise moral effect of a loaded -revolver such as I am now pointing at you. Go into the other corner.” - -“I won’t,” said Jetsam. “You can fire if you like. As a matter of fact, -you daren’t.” - -“You propose to leave the room and defy me?” - -“I propose to leave the room.” - -“Listen,” said Carpentaria. - -He took the trombone and blew on it loudly a few notes which neither -Jetsam nor Ilam immediately recognized. But the musicians, who had -by this time surrounded the house, recognized them. And at once there -entered by the smashed window the solemn and moving strains of the Dead -March in “Saul.” The house seemed to be ringed in a circle of awful -melody. - -Jetsam shuddered. - -“Now kindly stay where you are,” said Carpentaria. - -And Jetsam stayed where he was, at the foot of the bed, his back to Mrs. -Ilam’s prone figure. - -The playing continued. - -“What foolery is this?” demanded Ilam slowly. - -“It is part of a larger piece of foolery that has rescued you, Ilam,” - Carpentaria replied, and he was crossing the room to approach Ilam, -when he saw something in the looking-glass over the mantelpiece, and he -started back. - -Mrs. Ilam, the paralytic, roused in some strange way, either by the -violence of the scenes at which she had assisted, or by the inexplicable -influence of the music, was almost erect in her bed, and her trembling -parchment hands had seized the revolver which Rosie had left on the -floor, and she was endeavouring to point it between Jetsam’s shoulders. -The other two men turned and saw the fatal and appalling movement of -the aged creature, who was evidently in the grip of some tremendously -powerful instinct--the kind of instinct that only dies with death. - -Carpentaria alone retained his self-possession. With a swift and yet -gentle movement he disarmed the terrible old woman, and she sank back, -with streaming eyes, helpless and moveless as before. The incident was -over in a few seconds. - -“And now,” said Carpentaria, “I will hear your story, Mr. Jetsam. But -first, we must lift this bed back to its proper-position.” - -“Very well,” replied Jetsam, trembling in spite of himself. “You shall -hear my story.” - -The music ceased. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX--Mr. Jetsam’s Recital - - -We will go downstairs,” said Carpentaria, when a certain amount of -order had been restored to the room. “We shall be more at ease there.” - -“No,” cried Jetsam, and there was a note of passion in his voice. “This -old woman shall hear my tale. I tell it in her presence, or I tell -it not at all.” Carpentaria gazed at Mrs. Ilam’s eyes, which made no -response. Her bed was now replaced in its proper position, and those -strange burning eyes perused their old spot in the ceiling. After the -brief and terrible return of activity to that stricken body, it seemed -to have sunk back into a condition of helplessness more absolute even -than before. The eyes burned, but not quite with their former disturbing -brilliance. - -“Very well,” Carpentaria agreed. - -Ilam was already seated, apparently half-comatose. The other two men -each seized a chair. And then there was a timid but insistent knocking. - -“What is that?” demanded Carpentaria of Jetsam. “You ought to know; you -have been master here for some hours.” - -“It is Miss Rosie, I imagine,” Jetsam answered. “Your singular music has -startled her.” - -Carpentaria walked rapidly to the door, unlocked it, and opened it. -Rosie it indeed was who stood there. - -“Ah, my dear young lady,” he said lightly, without giving her an -opportunity even to express her astonishment. “I would like you to go to -your sister, who is in my house over the way. But I fear you cannot -open any of the doors. Won’t you retire and rest a little, after your -complicated labours?” He smiled a little grimly. “Everything is all -right here, and should your aged relative need your ministrations you -may rely on me to call you. In the meantime, your cousin and I, and your -particular friend Mr. Jetsam, must have a chat on business matters.” - -He bowed, covering the aperture of the door with his body so that Rosie -could not see inside the room. As for Rosie, she hesitated. - -“I entreat you,” he insisted, “go and rest, and don’t have anything more -to do with boats; you might drown yourself. And believe me when I say -that nothing further will be done in secret. The moment I am free I will -endeavour to free the doors.” - -Rosie moved reluctantly away down the landing. She had not spoken a -word. Carpentaria closed the portal softly and retired to his chair. - -“You have my attention,” he remarked significantly to Mr. Jetsam. - -“Well,” said Jetsam, after a moment’s pause. “It goes back a very long -time, this affair does, Mr. Carpentaria. It certainly began before you -were born--down at Torquay. Torquay, according to what they tell me, was -not the place then that it is now, not by a considerable distance; but -it was fashionable. It had got a bit of a name as a good place to go and -get fat in. Perhaps that was why a certain soda-water manufacturer went -there to spend a year or so. He was a very wealthy man, and he rented -a villa there. It’s one of those villas on the top of the hill between -Union Street and the sea, and it still exists. His age was about fifty, -and he was supposed to be worth half a million or so--all made out of -gas and splutter, you see. Being supposed to be worth half a million -or so, of course he soon had the entire population of Torquay knocking -at his door and throwing cards into his card-basket. He made a wide -circle of friends in rather less than no time, and being a simple, -decent creature, though not faultless, he was pretty well pleased with -himself. Now among the friends that he made was a certain widow, -age uncertain--but in the neighbourhood of thirty, and her name was -Kilmarnock.” - -At this time Mr. Jetsam stood up, and bending over Mrs. Ham’s bed with -his smile so ruthlessly cruel, he repeated, staring at the invalid: - -“Her name was Kilmarnock, wasn’t it?” - -Mrs. Ilam made no sign. Mr. Jetsam resumed his chair. - -“A pretty woman, I believe she was, with magnificent black eyes; the -most wonderful eyes in the West Country, people said,” Mr. Jetsam -proceeded. “Husband dead some little time. Anyhow, she had gone out of -mourning, and her dresses were the amazement of the town. They’d look -pretty queer nowadays, I reckon, because that was before 1860. However, -her dresses have got nothing to do with it, especially as the -soda-water manufacturer--have I happened to mention that his name was -Ilam?--especially as Mr. Ilam couldn’t see them very well. Mr. Ilam was -beginning to suffer from a cataract; both his eyes were affected, and -the disease was making progress rapidly. You must remember that oculists -didn’t know as much about cataract then as they do now. Well, Mr. Ilam -was himself a widower--a widower with one child, aged three years. He -had been a widower for two years when he first met Mrs. Kilmarnock. He -liked Mrs. Kilmarnock. She seemed to have in her the makings of a good -nurse, and one of the things that Mr. Ilam wanted was a faithful, loving -nurse. He was certainly in an awkward predicament. He also wanted a -mother for his child; and Mrs. Kilmarnock took a tremendous fancy to the -child--a simply tremendous fancy. He was a man who talked pretty freely -and openly, Mr. Ilam was, and he made no secret of the fact that, though -he preferred to marry a widow, he would never permit himself to marry -a widow who had children of her own. And one day he said to Mrs. -Kilmarnock that, since he had never heard her mention a child, he -assumed that she had no children. - -“She replied that his assumption was correct, and that she continually -regretted being childless, as she adored children, and felt very -severely the need of something to give her a real interest in life. -A month later Mr. Ilam asked Mrs. Kilmarnock to marry him, and she -consented like a bird. Three months later they were married. Everybody -said kind things; for you must know that Mrs. Kilmarnock was not -penniless herself. Oh, no! She lived in very good style in Torquay, and -gave dinners that Torquay liked. And Torquay is a good judge of dinners. -Her husband had been a Scottish writer to the Signet, she said. So the -marriage was celebrated amid universal plaudits, and there was quite -three-quarters of a column about it in the _Western Morning News_.” - -At this juncture Carpentaria ventured to interrupt the speaker. - -“You appear,” he said, “to be remarkably well informed about matters -which occurred long before you were of an age to take an intelligent -interest in them. At the time of this marriage you surely were not in -the habit of reading newspapers?” - -“I was not,” answered Jetsam drily. “I had attained the mature age -of three years. If I am well informed it is because I have taken the -trouble to inform myself. You see, I was interested, and I have spared -no pains during this last year or two to acquire all the circumstantial -details of the case.” - -“I perceive,” said Carpentaria. “But how were you interested?” - -“You will understand presently,” said Jetsam. “To continue. This Mrs. -Kilmarnock, whom we must now call Mrs. Ilam, used, both before and after -her second marriage, to pay visits to the town of Teignmouth, and these -visits were, not to put too fine a point on it, of an extremely discreet -nature; they were, in fact, strictly secret. Mrs. Ilam fell into the -habit of telling her husband that she was going to Exeter to shop, but -instead of going to Exeter she went only as far as Teignmouth. She was -always dressed very simply indeed for these Teignmouth visits. She used -to walk through the town from the station, and, having taken the ferry -across the Teign, she walked up the right bank of the river till she -came to a cottage that stood by itself in the marshy land thereabouts. -At the cottage an old man and woman and a little boy would meet her. And -the strange thing was that the old man spoke French; he could not speak -English. You may possibly not be aware that onion-boats from the coast -of Brittany are constantly arriving at the smaller Devonshire ports, -such as Torquay and Teignmouth. The old man was a Breton peasant, -with all the characteristics of a Breton peasant, who had arrived at -Teignmouth once in an onion-boat, and forgotten to go back again because -he fell in love with an Englishwoman--a Devonshire lass with a soft -drawling accent. So Mrs. Ilam used to talk to the Breton peasant in -French, and to his wife in English, and to the boy in baby language. She -would cover the boy with kisses; she would call him by pet names, and -she saw him at least once a week.” - -“He was her son?” Carpentaria put in interrogatively. - -“You have naturally guessed it,” Jetsam responded. “He was her son.” - -“But if she was really a widow, and this was really her son, why did -she----” - -“Oh,” cried Jetsam, “I think she was really a widow, and there is not -the slightest shadow of doubt that this was really her son. Perhaps she -kept him a secret from Torquay because she felt that he might prove an -obstacle to the achievement of her desires in Torquay. Anyhow, she loved -him passionately. Her son was, beyond question, the greatest passion of -her life.” He turned abruptly again to the old woman, “Wasn’t he?” he -demanded. - -And the aged creature’s burning eyes were filled with tears. - -“I think perhaps it might be as well to leave Mrs. Ilam out of the -conversation,” suggested Carpentaria. - -“Impossible to leave her out of the conversation,” said Jetsam quickly, -“because the conversation is almost exclusively about her. However, I -will not trouble her any more for confirmation of what I say. Well, for -nearly a year after her second marriage these clandestine visits of Mrs. -Ilam to the cottage on the banks of the Teign continued with the most -perfect regularity, and then something extremely remarkable happened.” - -“What was that?” - -“First, I must tell you that soon after the marriage Mr. Ilam’s cataract -got rapidly worse. In six months he could only distinguish objects -vaguely. He could not read anything except shop signs. In Mrs. Ilam -he found an admirable nurse and companion. Except for her shopping -excursions to Exeter she never left his side. She was a model wife, -and all Torquay admitted the fact. Even when Mr. Ilam’s impaired vision -rendered him captious, querulous, and indeed unbearable, she remained -sweetness itself; and Mr. Ilam would not admit anyone but her to his -presence. He even took a dislike to his child, his only son, and the -infant was left in the charge of servants and governesses, except that -Mrs. Ilam saw him as frequently as she could.” - -“But this is not very remarkable,” said Carpentaria, “such things are -constantly happening.” - -“I am coming to the remarkable part,” replied Jetsam, with a certain -solemnity of manner. “One day the old Breton fisherman told Mrs. Ilam -that a relative had left him property in his native district, and that -he had persuaded his wife to go with him to France so that they might -end their days there. Mrs. Ilam was extremely disturbed by this piece -of news, because she did not know what to do with the boy. She asked the -Frenchman how soon he proposed to leave, and the Frenchman said in about -three weeks. She left and said she would come back again in a few -days. It is at this point that the remarkable begins. Within a week all -Torquay was made aware that Mr. Ilam, at the solicitation of his wife, -had decided to go to Paris to consult a great specialist there.” - -“I see,” breathed Carpentaria, while Ilam’s face wore at length a look -of interest. - -“I doubt if you do see,” said Jetsam. “You think that Mrs. Ilam was -arranging to go to Paris in order to be nearer her son. Well, she was, -but not at all in the way you imagine. They departed from Torquay almost -at once, and in a somewhat remarkable manner, for Mrs. Ilam dismissed -every servant, even her own maid and Mr. Ilam’s man, and the child’s -nurse--all were dismissed in Torquay itself--and Mr. Ilam and his wife -and child left Torquay railway station entirely unaided, except by -porters and the domestics of a hotel. Mrs. Ilam would certainly have all -her work cut out to conduct the expedition, for you must remember that -at this period Mr. Ilam was practically blind. Well, they had to change -at Exeter and catch the Plymouth express, and at Exeter the old French -peasant was waiting on the platform, evidently by arrangement, and he -held Mrs. Ilam’s own little boy by the hand, and Mrs. Ilam and the -peasant had a long talk by themselves, and then the express came in, and -the Ilams got into it, and the express started off again for London, and -the French peasant was left standing on the platform holding the little -boy by the hand. You see?” - -“No,” said Carpentaria bluntly. - -“Well,” proceeded Jetsam. “It was not the same little boy that the -peasant held by the hand. Mrs. Ilam had taken her own child with her, -and left behind her step-child.” - -“Great heavens!” murmured Carpentaria. “Exactly,” said Jetsam. “Only -the heavens didn’t happen to interfere. This was no common case of -substitution at birth, it was a monstrously ingenious change which -Mrs. Ilam, out of her passionate love for her own son, had planned and -carried out in a manner suggested to her by the facts of the situation. -Consider. The two boys were the same age--about three years--and they -were dressed alike, Mrs. Ilam had seen to that. Mr. Ilam is nearly -blind, certainly he could not distinguish one child of three from -another child of three, even if they had been dressed differently. -Moreover, Mr. Ilam is not interested in the child. He is wrapped up in -his own complaint, a ferocious egotist, like most sufferers. Probably -the child sleeps during the journey to London--probably Mrs. Ilam gives -him something to make him sleep. The party arrive at Paddington, and -are met by a new set of servants whom Mrs. Ilam has engaged. She left -Torquay with a child; she arrived at Paddington with a child. Who, -except the old French peasant, is to know that there has been a change -_en route?_ The new child is kept entirely out of Mr. Ilam’s presence. -He is taught his new name; he is taught to forget his past on the banks -of the Teign; and he readily succeeds in doing so. His new nurse is -suitably discreet. During their brief stay in London the Ilams stop at -a hotel. They do not visit friends, on the plea of Mr. Ilam’s complaint. -Then they leave London for Paris.” - -“The thing was perfect,” observed Carpentaria, astounded. - -“It was fatally perfect,” Jetsam agreed. “Even had Mr. Ilam been cured -at once, the danger would have been but slight, because he had never -seen his own child clearly. However, Mr. Ilam was not cured at once, for -it happened that the famous oculist whom they meant to consult died on -the very day they entered Paris. It was seven years before Mr. Ilam got -himself cured; but in the end he was cured almost completely. The boy -was then aged ten years. What possible chance was there of a discovery -of the fraud? Even had Mr. Ilam ever seen his child clearly, what -resemblance is there between an infant of three and a boy of ten? None; -none whatever. Mrs. Ilam had triumphed: she had deposed the authentic -heir of Mr. Ilam and had put her own son on the throne in his stead.” - -“And the other boy?” Carpentaria queried. - -Jetsam paused, his eyes bent downwards. - -“Do you know the Breton peasantry?” he demanded suddenly, at length. - -“Not in the least,” said Carpentaria. - -“Ah, well; that doesn’t matter! When you hear the sequel of the story -you will be able to imagine what a Breton peasant is capable of. He is -the equal of the Norman peasant, and no French novelist has ever yet -dared to write down the actual! truth about the Norman peasant. I told -you that Mrs. Ilam and the old Frenchman had a chat on Exeter platform. -She told him that she was giving him a new charge, preferring to take -the other boy herself. It was arranged that the new charge should -accompany the Breton to France, and live with him as his foster-child. -Terms were fixed up, no doubt to the entire satisfaction of the peasant. -Then Mrs. Ilam ventured to play her great card. She informed the -Frenchman that his new charge was a very delicate plant, frequently ill, -and not apparently destined to long life. This, by the way, was grossly -untrue. ‘Of course, if he were to die,’ she said in effect to the -peasant, ‘you would lose the income which I shall pay to you for looking -after the child, and to compensate you for that loss I will promise -to give you, if he dies, the sum of five hundred pounds.’ I expect she -managed to put a peculiar and sinister emphasis on these words. Anyhow, -the Frenchman understood. That was just the kind of thing that you might -rely on a Breton peasant to comprehend without too much explanation. -Five hundred pounds is five hundred pounds; it is over twelve thousand -francs, and twelve thousand francs to a Breton peasant is worth -anything--it is worth eternal torture.” - -“And so, in due course, Mrs. Ilam received news of her stepson’s death?” - -“In due course she received news of her stepson’s death,” said -Jetsam. “It took a considerable time--six years, in fact--‘but it was -accompanied by legal proof, and when she received it Mrs. Ilam must have -been as happy as the day is long, especially as her own boy was growing -up strong and well, and Mr. Ilam had taken quite a fancy to him. So -all trace of the crime--would you call it a crime, or only a pleasing -manifestation of a mother’s love?--all trace of the crime was lost, -for the French peasant died; the English wife of the French peasant had -expired a long time before.” - -And Jetsam paused again. - -“I am accepting all that you say as gospel,” said Carpentaria. “Because -somehow it impresses me vividly as being true.” Here he looked at -Josephus Ilam, who avoided his glance. “But how does this matter concern -yourself, and in what way did you come upon the traces of the crime?” - -“I’ll tell you,” Jetsam recommenced. “It was like this. The boy was not -dead.” - -“Not dead?” - -“No. He had run away. He had had a pretty hard time before the death of -the peasant’s wife. Afterwards, his existence was a trifle more exciting -than he could bear. He was starved and he was beaten. But that was not -all. On board fishing boats he was forced to accept dangers and risks of -such a nature that the continuance of his life was nothing less than a -daily miracle. So he ran away. He was aged nine, and he had a perfect -knowledge of two languages as his stock-in-trade.” - -“But the legal proof of his death?” - -“Nothing simpler. The foster-father was a great friend of the village -schoolmaster, and the schoolmaster, as you may know, is always the -secretary of the mayor in a French village. He it is who makes out -all certificates, and transacts every bit of the routine business of -population-recording. The foster-father suggested to the schoolmaster -that in exchange for a certificate of the boy’s death, the schoolmaster -should receive a note of the Bank of France for a thousand francs. This -was more than half a year’s salary to the schoolmaster, and the result -was that the foster-father got the certificate. No fear of discovery! -None knew of the issue of the certificate except these two men. And the -lady for whose benefit the certificate was issued would be extremely -unlikely to visit a remote French fishing village.” - -“And what occurred to the boy?” - -“The principal thing that occurred to the boy is that he is now sitting -here and telling you his story,” said Jetsam, calmly. - -“I guessed it,” said Carpentaria, with equal calmness, “as soon as you -mentioned that the boy was not dead.” - -Josephus Ilam maintained a stony silence. - -“I knocked about for nine or ten years,” continued Jetsam, “both in -England and France, chiefly fishing. Then I suddenly became respectable. -I got a place in a house-agency in Cannes, chiefly on the strength of my -knowledge of French and English. Of course, that only lasted during the -winter season. But my employer had a similar agency in Ostend during -the summer. It was in Ostend that I became gay. I joined a theatrical -troupe. I travelled a great deal. I did everything except make money. -And after ten years of that I settled down again as a house-agency -clerk. I really was rather good at that, much better than as a -music-hall performer with revolvers, for instance. And in various -‘pleasure cities’ of Europe I acted as a clerk for over twenty years. -Think of it--twenty years! And me growing older and narrower and more -gloomy every year in the service of ‘pleasure.’ I never saved any money -to speak of, even though I remained single, perhaps because I remained -single. And then one day, finding myself at St. Malo, I thought I would -go and have a look at that fishing village which I had fled from over -thirty years before. My delightful foster-father was, of course, dead; -so was the schoolmaster; but one or two people remembered me, and among -them was an old woman who had been a charming young girl when I left. It -appeared that my old foster-father had fallen deeply in love with her -in a senile way, and at her parents’ instigation she had married him for -his money. He had confided to her, once when he thought he was dying, -the secret of the substitution on Exeter platform. And now she told me. -She had always liked me. You should have heard her pronounce ‘Exeter.’ -It was the funniest thing.” - -Mr. Jetsam laughed hardly. - -“So that was how you got on the track?” said Carpentaria. - -“Yes. I then pursued my inquiries in Torquay, and I found my old -nurse. She told me that the real child of Mr. Ilam had a large crimson -birthmark on the calf of his left leg. I had that mark. She also told me -that there existed a photograph--one of the old daguerreotypes--of me as -a child in the arms of my step-mother, my father standing close by, and -that the mark on my leg was most clearly visible on this photograph. -And that was the only real solid piece of information that I obtained, -except that the photograph used to be kept in an old lacquered box. -I had an instinct that the photograph had been preserved. And it was -preserved--until to-night! I relied on the photograph. I could dimly -recollect Torquay and Exeter platforms, but of what use would my -assertions be without some proof, some tangible proof? When I thought of -my wasted and spoiled and miserable life--and of what it might have been -had I not been hated by a woman, I was filled with hatred and with--with -such sorrow as you can’t understand.” - -A sob escaped from Mr. Jetsam, and Carpentaria got up and took his hand. - -“It is not too late for justice,” said Carpentaria. - -“That woman has always hated me,” Jetsam murmured. “And even to-night -her hatred still burned so fiercely that she tried to kill me. Even if -she could speak, would she admit the truth? And she cannot speak.” - -“I think I can cause her to communicate with us,” said Carpentaria. “You -will see in a moment.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXX--The Words of Mrs. Ilam - - -Carpentaria bent over the old woman, as if to search ‘her eyes and find -some kindness there. - -And it seemed to him, indeed, that the character of her gaze had -somewhat changed, though those brilliant orbs, famous in Torquay fifty -years ago for their splendour, showed no trace of humidity. - -Carpentaria himself was moved. It would have been impossible for anyone, -least of all an artist of romantic instincts such as he, to listen -to Jetsam’s recital without emotion. And now, when the narrative was -finished, Jetsam sat silent and preoccupied, the figure of grief and of -failure. One felt, in observing him, the immense tragedy of his life--a -life which would not have been a tragedy, but merely a little slice of -the commonplace, had he not by chance learned the sinister secret of his -origin. One understood how the discovery of that secret had completely -changed his view of existence, how it had filled him with ideas of -frantic hope, frantic revenge, and frantic regret at the long drab -irrecoverable years which the past had swallowed up. One penetrated, as -it were, into his brain, and watched how he was continually contrasting -what his career actually had been with what it might have been--with -what it would have been but for the ruthless action of the woman on the -bed. - -And then there was the burly, smitten figure of Josephus Ilam, too, -equally pathetic in its way. For love of this strong, heavy man, who -once had been a little boy in a sailor suit standing on Exeter platform, -the woman on the bed had committed a crime which was certainly worse -than murder. She had made one life and she had marred another. And now -she herself was stricken, withered, about to appear before the ultimate -tribunal. It was incontrovertible that, if she had sinned, she had -sinned magnificently, in the grand manner. - -Carpentaria glanced at the two men, and then back again at the aged -mother. - -“I understand, Mrs. Ilam,” he began in a voice strangely soft and -persuasive, “that you can indicate ‘yes’ or ‘no’ by a slight movement. -Miss Dartmouth told me the other day. Is this so? I entreat you to -answer me.” - -With a sudden jerk Josephus Ilam rose from his chair and rushed to the -bedside. - -“Answer him, mother.” - -Mother and son exchanged a long gaze, and then Mrs. Ilam’s eyelids -blinked. It was the affirmative sign. - -“Thank you,” said Carpentaria simply. “Now it seems to me, if you are -not too tired, that we can quite easily carry on a conversation upon -this basis. It will be slow, but it will be none the less sure. By -successively choosing letters out of the alphabet you can make up words, -and so form sentences. You can choose the letters thus: I will run -through the alphabet, and when I come to the letter you want, you will -blink. Do you comprehend my scheme?” - -The eyes blinked. - -“And are you willing to try it?” - -There was a considerable pause, but in the end the eyes blinked. - -“Very good,” said Carpentaria. “Now, quite probably you will want to -begin with the letter ‘I,’ eh?” - -The eyes blinked. - -“Excellent! Your first word is ‘I.’ Let us go to the next word. A, B, C, -D--------” - -At “D” the eyes blinked again. - -With infinite patience, Carpentaria continued to help Mrs. Ilam to -express herself, and though that mouth was incapable of speech and those -hands would never write again, the woman transmitted her first thought -to the outer world, and it went thus: - -“_I do not regret_.” - -There was something terrible, something majestic, in that unrepentant -enunciation. It illustrated the remorseless character of the aged -creature, whose spirit nothing apparently could conquer. Josephus -Ilam moved away from the bed and hovered uncertainly between the -dressing-table and the window. Jetsam got up from his chair and, taking -Ilam’s place, examined the features of the woman who had ruined his -life and cheated him out of all that was his. And even Jetsam could not -forbear an admiring exclamation. - -“You are tremendous,” he murmured. “I could almost like you.” - -Carpentaria waved him aside. - -“Has Mr. Jetsam told us the truth, dear madam?” he interrogated her. - -And the eyes blinked. It was as though they blinked joyously, defiantly. - -“Do you agree that restitution should be made, so far as restitution is -possible?” Carpentaria asked. - -There was no movement of the eyelids. - -“You object to restitution, even now?” - -Still there was no movement of the eyelids. But Josephus Ilam’s legs -could be heard shuffling on the floor. - -“You wish to speak, then? A, B, C, D----------” - -Carpentaria went on to “W” before Mrs. Ilam signified that the sentence -was to commence. The words ran: - -“Why named Jetsam?” - -The woman’s mind was evidently exploring, in a sort of indifferent -curiosity, the side-issues, the minor scenes, of the terrific drama -which she had started and of which she now witnessed the climax. - -She appeared to have no sense at all of her own responsibility. - -“It was a name I gave myself when I first found out who I was,” said -Jetsam bitterly. “Something chucked overboard and forgotten, you see.” - -A slight smile seemed to illuminate the woman’s face. - -“Do you agree that restitution should be made?” Carpentaria repeated -patiently. - -The eyes of the paralytic made no sign until Carpentaria began again to -go through the alphabet. Then, letter by letter, the message came: - -“If my son wishes.” - -“Mother,” Ilam murmured, averting his face from the bed, “of course I -wish. I nearly killed him myself the other day. You thought I had been -dreaming--till you saw him yourself, and, and----” - -He stopped; he broke down. - -And then Mrs. Ilam proceeded, with Carpentaria’s help: - -“My son must tell me about that.” - -“No,” Jetsam put in authoritatively; “I will tell you about that. -Ilam--or rather I should say Kilmarnock--is in no condition to make -speeches. When I first came to this place to begin my struggle for what -was mine, I really had not got much of a plan in my head. It was so -difficult to make a start. It may seem to you quite a simple thing”--he -turned away from Mrs. Ilam and addressed Carpentaria--“to go up to a -person and say to him, ‘Look here, you are standing in my shoes, and -your mother has committed an act foully criminal!’ But in practice it -isn’t quite as easy as it seems. You want a gigantic nerve to make a -statement like that as if you meant it--although you do mean it. It -sounds rather wild, you see. And then I met my supplanter rather before -I was ready for him. The truth is that he came into that little place -where I was hiding in just the same way as you came in, Mr. Carpentaria. -He caught me like you did--a trespasser; and, of course, I was at a -disadvantage. He spoke to me very roughly, and then angered me----” - -“How could I know who you were?” demanded Ilam. - -“Exactly. You couldn’t know. But the effect on me was the same. Put -yourself in my place, Mr. Kilmarnock. I had been cheated out of my whole -career. You were in unlawful possession of it; and on the top of that -you came along, and behaved to me as if I were a dog. Well”--here Jetsam -addressed his stepmother again--“I told him who I was, and pretty quick -too, and I could see from his manner that he knew the history of our -origin, and the substitution on Exeter platform.” - -“I knew,” Ilam admitted with a certain sadness. “My mother had once told -me--I came across traces of a mystery, and she told me.” - -“And you did nothing?” queried Jetsam. “It was not on your conscience?” - -“You must recollect that we had the legal proof of your death. What was -there to be done? I could not have made restitution to the dead, even -had my mother permitted.” - -“But when I told you who I was,” rejoined Mr. Jetsam, “unless I am much -mistaken, you believed what I said.” - -“I did,” Ilam agreed. “Moreover, you bear a most distinct likeness to a -portrait of my stepfather, painted when he was about your age.” - -“You believed me, and your answer was to try to kill me?” Jetsam -sneered. - -The two men, the son and the stepson, were now opposite to one another, -on either side of the bed, while Carpentaria, intently listening, stood -at the foot. - -“I did not try to kill you,” answered Ilam. - -“You pretty nearly succeeded,” said Jetsam. - -“I thought I had killed you,” Ilam said gravely. “But I had no intention -of doing so. You said something very scathing about my mother----” - -“I said nothing that was not justified.” - -“You insulted my mother. I lost my temper. I hated you. We always hate -those whom we have wronged. I struck you. You fell, and you must have -knocked your head against the pile of planks lying in the enclosure; -you never moved. I examined you. I could have sworn you were dead--I was -afraid--I thought of inquests. I knew the whole truth would come out. I -had not meant to kill. So I took you and buried you temporarily, while -I considered what I should do afterwards. I went back to the house -and told my mother. She would not believe me. She thought I had been -dreaming. I do frequently have bad nightmares. And certain things that -occurred afterwards made even me suspect that after all I had been -dreaming. It was not until you came again that I----” - -“And even your mother believed then, eh?” said Jetsam. “Your mother -believed too suddenly. She saw me and she believed! And the result was -paralysis! I ought to have broken it to her more gently. That would have -been perhaps better for all of us--perhaps better!” - -There was a pause. And Jetsam added, as if communing with himself: - -“How she hated me! How she hates me still! even to-night, if some one -had not interfered in time----” - -He could not get away from the amazing tenacity of Mrs. Ilam’s purpose. - -“You wish to speak?” said Carpentaria, who had been observing the -woman’s eyes; the eyes were blinking nervously. - -He began the alphabet again, and her message ran thus: - -“I do not hate him; but I love my son. To-night I thought Josephus was -in danger. That was why--revolver. I always acted for my son. I love -him!” - -These sentiments, so unmistakably clear in their significance, took some -time to transmit. Mrs. Ilam appeared to be exhausted. But after a few -moments she continued: - -“Where is Rosie? She helped him. I want to know why.” - -The men exchanged glances. - -“Why did she help you?” Carpentaria asked of Jetsam. - -“Better ask her!” replied Jetsam curtly. - -Carpentaria did not hesitate an instant. He went to the door, opened -it, and called Rosie, and his voice resounded through the well of the -staircase and the empty rooms. And then Rosie came from; downstairs, -like an apparition. She had been crying. - -“Mrs. Ilam wants you to explain why you have been helping Mr. Jetsam,” - said Carpentaria, as she entered. - -“Helping him in what?” Rosie parleyed timidly. - -“In his plans----” - -“Against me,” Ilam added. - -“I only helped him in his plans for justice,” said Rosie. - -“But why?” - -“Because I was sorry for him. Because there is something in his -tone--because--oh! if he has told you all, are you not all sorry for -him? When I think of what his life has been----” - -She stopped and burst into tears. - -“But my hair is grey,” murmured Jetsam. “How can you possibly be -interested in me? What does it matter what happens to me? My life is -over.” - -“No it isn’t!” Rosie protested. “It hasn’t yet begun. It is just -beginning. Mrs. Ilam and Cousin Ilam will be just to you. You will not -bear them ill-will. The wrong is too old for that. You will forget it. -You will forget all the past. Your hair may be grey, but I’m sure your -heart isn’t. And your voice can influence even the Soudanese. The way -that man obeyed you! The way he got the better of his brother just -to please you! It seems strange, but I can understand it, because I -have----” - -Again she stopped. - -Jetsam went up to her and took her hand, which she seemed willingly to -release to him. And he held it. - -“How good you are!” he said steadily. “I am almost ashamed to have -roused your sympathy so much.” - -The other two men watched. - -“I don’t know what Pauline will say,” Rosie stammered. - -Suddenly there was the sound of music. The band, which everybody in the -room had forgotten, had begun to play, apparently of its own accord. And -the melody it had chosen was, “See the Conquering Hero Comes.” - -Carpentaria rushed to the window. And then, as he drew the curtains, all -noticed for the first time that the dawn had begun. - -“What are you making that noise for?” he demanded angrily from the -balcony. The music ceased abruptly. - -“We’re saluting the sun, sir,” came the reply. “It’s morning. We -imagined that possibly you had lost sight of the fact of our existence.” - -“I had,” said Carpentaria. “However, you can go!” - -“Mr. Carpentaria,” cried another voice--a woman’s, firm and imperious. -“Open the front door immediately and let me in. I insist.” - -It was Pauline. - -“Certainly, Miss Dartmouth,” said Carpentaria obediently. “Kindly -cut the rope which you will see tied to the handle. I will tell the -Soudanese to admit you.” - -And he did so. - -And presently footsteps were heard on the stairs, and both Pauline and -Juliette came in. - -“Rosie!” exclaimed Pauline. The sisters were clasped in each other’s -arms. - -“Forgive me, dearest!” Rosie entreated; and they kissed. - -“But what have you----?” Pauline began, naturally mystified to the -utmost. - -“Ah, Miss Dartmouth,” said Carpentaria, “I fear you must wait for -enlightenment until you can hear the whole story.” - -“But the servants?” cried Pauline. - -“I sent them to sleep in the staff-dormitories. I said you wished it,” - answered Rosie, smiling. - -“But why should I wish it?” - -“I don’t know,” said Rosie. “When they asked me that, I told them I -didn’t know,” she smiled again faintly. “But Mr. Jetsam will explain it -all to you. I--I tried to help him, and I have succeeded--I think.” - -During this conversation, Juliette, with that direct candour which -frequently distinguishes women in a crisis, had gone straight to -Josephus Ilam and seized his hand. She was assuring herself that he -was not hurt, when Mrs. Ilam once more gave a sign with her eyelids. -Carpentaria resumed his position as helper. - -“It was because I loved him,” Carpentaria spelt out for her, “that I -tried to kill you--twice.” - -Carpentaria fell back. Then he regained his self-command and, pushing his -fingers through his red-gold hair, he asked monosyllabically, “Why?” - -And then he interpreted for her the answer to his own question. - -“You worried Josephus. He wanted to get rid of you.” - -Josephus disengaged his hands from those of Juliette. - -“Mother!” he moaned sadly, and then added, “She is mad!” - -But through Carpentaria Mrs. Ilam said: - -“I am not mad. But my love has always been too strong.” - -“Did you know of this, Ilam?” Carpentaria asked his partner solemnly. - -“Of course I did not,” was the answer--“not till it was too late.” - -“Then, why did you warn me up in the wheel?” - -“Because I suspected. I suspected my poor mother was beginning to hate -you, and I feared that---- I can’t say any more.” - -Carpentaria, powerfully moved, walked out of the room, and it was -Pauline who followed him. - -Mrs. Ilam’s eyes were now shut. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI--Unison - -That summer was astoundingly fine and warm, not to say tropical. But -since it remains clearly in the memory of all, especially of the London -water-companies, as a unique caprice on the part of the English climate, -there is no need to go into details of its beauty. Towards the end of -September the weather was exceedingly lovely. And of course the City -prospered accordingly. It had been thought that the record “gates” - during the great fêtes of August would make the September returns look -meagre and feeble. Such, however, was not the case. In the first week -of September over a million people paid fifty thousand pounds at the -turnstiles to enjoy the charms of the City. And a water-famine in -most other parts of London did not impair their pleasure, for Ilam and -Carpentaria had sunk their own Artesian wells, and they had sunk them -deep enough. Consequently, the glorious lawns of the Oriental Gardens -and the turf of the cricket field kept a vivid green through that -solitary summer. - -The consumption of multi-coloured liquids in the cafés dotted about the -gardens exceeded the most sanguine estimates. It was stated that during -one of Carpentaria’s concerts twelve thousand pints of Pilsen beer -(the genuine article, imported daily in casks from the Erste Pilsen -Actien-Brauerei, Pilsen) were consumed within sight of the bandstand. - -“This,” said Carpentaria emphatically, “is success. No -composer-conductor,” he added, “has ever before been able to say that he -was listened to by an audience that put away Pilsen beer at the rate of -a hundred pints a minute.” - -And he was right. Success was written large all over the place. Success -shone on the faces of the entire staff, and it shone particularly on the -face of Carpentaria, though he tried to pretend that it was nothing to -him. It was, naturally, a great deal to him. He was the lion of London, -and he knew it. All his previous triumphs were nothing in comparison -with this triumph, which was the triumph of his ideas as well as a -personal triumph. - -Fifty amusement-mongers in London were asking themselves why they had -not thought of building a City of Pleasure--and they were not getting -satisfactory replies to the conundrum! - -One evening, towards the middle of September, after a more than usually -effective concert, Carpentaria laid down his baton on the plush cushion -provided for its repose, and bowed and bowed and bowed again, in -response to the enthusiastic plaudits, but with a somewhat pre-occupied -mien. - -“What’s up with the old man?” a French-horn player whispered to his -mate. - -“Dashed if I know!” replied the second French-horn-player. “Unless he’s -in love.” - -“Well, he is,” said the first. “Everybody knows that.” - -They called him the old man, no doubt, because his age was barely forty -and because he looked younger than any of them. - -Carpentaria descended from his throne, smiling absently at the applause -of his band as he made his way through them to the steps leading down -from the bandstand to the level of the gardens. He had only to move a -few paces in order to be lost in the surging crowd. But before he could -do this, he heard a voice: - -“Mr. Carpentaria.” - -He turned sharply. It was a woman’s voice. It was more--it was Pauline’s -voice. Had she come to meet him? Impossible! That would have been too -much happiness. However, he determined to ascertain, and he ascertained -in his usual direct manner. - -“Did you come specially to meet me?” he demanded. - -And she replied, in a low voice: - -“Yes.” - -“That was extremely kind of you,” he said, trembling with joy. - -“No,” she protested. “I had something to tell you--and------” She -hesitated, and then stopped. - -“Suppose we take a little stroll,” he suggested. - -And she said, quite naturally: - -“I should love to.” - -“This woman is simply the divinest creature,” he told himself. “She is -not like other women. She would like to go for a stroll with me, and -she does not pretend the contrary. I am a great man, but I have done -nothing, absolutely nothing, to deserve her goodness.” - -They crossed the gardens, with difficulty, in the direction of the -terrace. And around were the light and laughter of the City--the -brilliant illuminated cafés and the sombre trees for a background, and -thousands of pretty toilettes and thousands of men gazing at the pretty -toilettes, so attractive in the gloom under the starry sky. A burst of -minor music would come now and then from some little café-orchestra, or -the sound of the popping of guns from a distant shooting-gallery or the -roar of a lion, forced unwillingly to go through its performance in the -menagerie. Then, every woman in the gardens gave a little start or -a little shriek at the noise of the great cannon which signalled the -commencement of the fireworks, and the rush to the terrace, where the -best view was to be obtained, became a stampede. - -“Do you mean to go on to the terrace?” asked Pauline. - -“No, madam,” said Carpentaria, teasingly. “I mean to go on to the -foreshore of the river. The tide is low--we shall be alone--we shall -see both the crowd and the fireworks; and we shall be secure from -interruption.” - -With one of his pass-keys he unlocked a gate giving access to a tunnel -leading down to the river. They passed through, and he locked the gate -again. They arrived at the edge of the stream just as the first -cluster of rockets was expanding itself in the firmament. The scene was -impressive, and the roaring cheers of the serried crowd behind and above -them did not detract from its impressiveness. - -“So you have something to tell me?” he remarked, tapping his foot idly -against a stone. “I also have something to tell you.” - -“Really?” she answered. - -He examined her face and figure. She was dressed in mourning, for Mrs. -Ilam had died within two days of the events set down in the previous -chapter, and Carpentaria thought that black had never suited any woman -so well as it suited Pauline.... There was something about her face... -In short... Well, those who have been through what Carpentaria was going -through will readily understand. - -“And what are you going to tell me?” he queried. - -“It’s a message from Cousin Ilam,” said Pauline. “You haven’t seen him -to-day, have you?” - -“No. I’ve been very much alone to-day. Juliette’s been away all day--I -suppose preparing for the wedding--there’s only a few days left now.” - -“Well,” said Pauline, “Cousin Ilam told me to tell you they aren’t going -to be married next week.” - -“What!” cried Carpentaria, “after all? Why not?” - -“Because they were married this morning. They’re already on their -honeymoon.” - -“And Juliette has played this trick on me?” murmured Carpentaria. - -“In any case, the marriage would have had to be very quiet,” said -Pauline. “I fancy Cousin Ilam didn’t particularly care for your notion -of having a section of your band to play at the church. Anyhow, -he wanted the affair absolutely quiet. You know how nervous and -self-conscious he is.” - -“Now I come to think of it,” Carpentaria said, “Juliette did kiss me -this morning rather fervently, and I wondered why.” - -“You wonder no longer,” observed Pauline, smiling. “It was just a little -plot.” - -“Extraordinary! Most extraordinary!” Carpentaria exclaimed. - -“I don’t think it’s quite so extraordinary as all that!” said Pauline. - -“You don’t know what I mean,” Carpentaria replied. “I also have a -message--for you. It is from our friend Mr. Jetsam Ilam and your sister. -Have you seen Miss Rosie since this morning?” - -“No,” said Pauline; “she went with Juliette.” - -“Exactly. She went with Juliette. And she has done what Juliette has -done. I was asked by Mr. Jetsam Ilam to inform you that instead of -marrying your sister next week he has married her this week. He is very -sorry. He has a perfect horror of publicity. In fact they chose the -registry office.” - -“What a shame!” cried Pauline. “What a shame!” - -“Ah,” said Carpentaria, “you didn’t mind them deceiving me! But when it -comes to deceiving you----! It must have been a united plot on the part -of those two pairs of people to deceive us two; and, I must say, they -managed the thing pretty well. Don’t you think so?” - -“I think they’ve been horrid,” said Pauline. - -“And we two are quite alone, for one solid week--you in your house, and -I in mine,” said Carpentaria. - -There was a pause, and then he heard a sob. - -“You aren’t really crying, are you?” he demanded. - -Pauline made no answer. - -In crying she had lost herself. She had given herself away--she had -precipitated a crisis which, in any event, could not have been long -postponed. In a word, he tried to comfort her. You may guess how he did -it. You may guess whether she objected. You may guess if he succeeded. -In a quarter of an hour she was telling him that she had always liked -him, that, formerly, she and Rosie used to worship him--Rosie even more -than she--but that that sort of worship was nothing compared to the -feelings which she at present entertained--_et seq_. - -And the fireworks and the applause of the vast crowd provided the kind -of setting that Carlos Carpentaria loved. - - -THE END - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The City Of Pleasure, by Arnold Bennett - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CITY OF PLEASURE *** - -***** This file should be named 55115-0.txt or 55115-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/1/1/55115/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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