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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..892b111 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #65383 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65383) diff --git a/old/65383-0.txt b/old/65383-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6e8c1ad..0000000 --- a/old/65383-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8858 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Diana of Kara-Kara, by Edgar Wallace - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Diana of Kara-Kara - -Author: Edgar Wallace - -Release Date: May 19, 2021 [eBook #65383] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Al Haines, Chuck Greif & the online Distributed Proofreaders - Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net. This file was - produced from images generously made available by Internet - Archive. - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIANA OF KARA-KARA *** - - - - - DIANA OF KARA-KARA - - BY - EDGAR WALLACE - - Author of “THE GREEN ARCHER,” “THE CLUE - OF THE NEW PIN,” etc. - - [Illustration: colophon] - - BOSTON - SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY - PUBLISHERS - - - COPYRIGHT, 1924, - BY SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY - (INCORPORATED) - - - _Printed in the United States of America_ - _Printed by Geo. H. Ellis Co. Inc., Boston, Massachusetts_ - _Bound by the Boston Bookbinding Company_ - _Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A._ - - - - -DIANA OF KARA-KARA - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -“She is an orphan,” said Mr. Collings emotionally. - -Orphans were Mr. Collings’ weakness. - -In ordinary intercourse as between lawyer and client, he was a stern, -reserved man with a cold passion for compromise. Litigants entered his -office charged with bubbling joy that their enemies had delivered -themselves into their hands; they came talking five figure damages and -the stark ruin of men and corporations who and which had offended them. -They slunk out again into the glare of an Australian sun, their cases -demolished, their spirits broken, their futures clouded. Mr. Collings -did not believe in litigation. He believed that things could be -arranged. - -If it was possible for a murdered man to walk into Mr. Collings’ office -and say: “I’ve got an excellent case against Binks: he has just shot me -dead. Do you think I can get damages?” Mr. Collings would reply: “I very -much doubt it. There is a great deal to be said for Binks. And aren’t -you in rather an awkward position yourself? You are carrying about a -bullet which undoubtedly is the property of Binks. You never know what -point of view a jury will take. You had better let me try to settle -this.” - -But in the matter of orphans Mr. Collings was slightly unbalanced. He -was strictly brought up by parents who compelled him to read books on -Sunday that were entirely devoted to orphans and good organ-grinders and -little girls who quoted extensively from precious books and died -surrounded by weeping negroes. In such literature the villains of the -piece were young scoundrels who surreptitiously threw away their crusts -and only ate the crumbly part of bread; desperadoes who kicked dogs and -threw large flies into spiders’ webs and watched the spider at his fell -work with glee. - -“She is an orphan,” said Mr. Collings again, and blew his nose loudly. - -“She has been an orphan for ten years,” said Mr. William Cathcart -cynically. - -Mr. Collings was stout, bald, given to afternoon naps; Mr. Cathcart was -thin, narrow-faced, not so bald, and never slept at all, so far as -anybody knew. He hated orphans. They stood for questions of _cestui que -use_, problems of _cy-pres_, perplexities of _donatio mortis causa_ and -the Guardianship of Infants Act. He never saw an orphan without his hand -going instinctively to his hip pocket. - -“And the most irregular orphan I have ever met,” continued Mr. William -Cathcart remorselessly. “An infant in law with a bank balance of a -hundred thousand! I refuse to drop a tear--positively!” - -Mr. Collings wiped his eyes. - -“She _is_ an orphan,” he insisted. “Mrs. Tetherby gave her the money -during her lifetime: there is nothing irregular in that. If I gave -an--an orphan”--he swallowed hard--“a penny, a pound--a thousand--is -that a breach of the law, an impropriety, even though it is practised -_de die in diem_?” - -Mr. Cathcart considered. - -“You might in certain circumstances be acting _de sont tort_,” he said. - -Mr. Collings pondered this; found the term almost inapplicable, but not -so much so that he could be offensive in a gentlemanly way. Wisely he -returned to lamb. - -“Mrs. Tetherby was inert. Stout women are often inert----” - -“Lazy,” suggested the dyspeptic Cathcart. - -“She was fond of Diana. Few aunts are fond of nieces. Her will proves -that. She left everything----” - -“There was nothing to leave,” interrupted Mr. William Cathcart with sour -satisfaction. How that man hated orphans! “There was nothing to leave -because in her lifetime she gave Diana full control of her money.” - -“She was inert,” murmured Mr. Collings. “She loved this orphan -child----” - -“If there was one woman in the world who ought never to have been -allowed----” - -“Never ought have been,” corrected Mr. Collings gently. - -“--to have charge of a girl of Diana Ford’s temperament, it is or was -Mrs. Tetherby. A child of sixteen who has a raging love affair with a -student----” - -“A theological student,” insisted Mr. Collings. “Don’t forget that. A -young woman may well feel that she could give her heart to a -theological student when a medical student would have revolted all that -was most sensitive in her nature.” - -“A theological student makes it worse.” - -“At least Mrs. Tetherby consulted us on that matter.” Mr. Collings was a -shade reproachful. “Inert or energetic, she consulted us.” - -“She consulted us to discover whether she would be liable to trial for -murder if she waylaid and shot Mr. Dempsi. She said that she had set a -dog on to him, but he was incapable of taking a hint. Those were her -words.” - -“Dempsi is dead,” said Mr. Collings in a hushed voice. “I spoke to Diana -on the subject only eight months ago--when her dear aunt died. I asked -her if the wound had left a scar. She said she scarcely remembered a -scratch, and that she often amused herself in the evenings by trying to -draw him from memory.” - -“A heartless little devil,” said Mr. Cathcart. - -“A child--youth has no memory, not even for its stomach aches,” said Mr. -Collings oracularly. - -“Did you discuss those too?” sneered his partner. - -Mr. Collings raised his eyebrows. Such a man as he is hopeless in the -face of sheer vulgarity. - -“An orphan....” he began. - -The clerk at the door spoke in the strained way of managing clerks. - -“Miss Diana Ford, sir,” he said. - -The legal house of Collings & Cathcart exchanged glances. - -“Show the young lady in.” The door closed. “Be gentle with her, -William.” - -Mr. Cathcart writhed. - -“Will she be gentle with me?” he asked bitterly. “Will you guarantee -that she will be reasonably polite to me--and back your guarantee with -real money?” - -There came through the door a peach tree, blossoming in the spring of -the year; summer dawn on riverside meadows with the dew winking from a -thousand gossamers. The froth of hawthorn in an English country lane; a -crystal brook whispering between slim larches. Miss Diana Ford. - -During the war Mr. Cathcart had held a commission in the Army Service -Corps (Home Service) and had acquired the inventory habit. He saw: - -Girl: Slim, medium size. One. - -Eyes: Grey-blue; large, more or - less innocent. Two. - -Mouth: Red, Bow-shaped, largish. One. - -Nose: Straight, in perfect shape. One. - -Hair: Slightly golden, bobbed. One complete head. - -Diana was as unrecognisable from the inventory as the average man from -the description on his passport. She had the atmosphere of spring and -dawn. Her colouring belonged to such season and time, having a pink of -its own and a whiteness which looked pink when compared with white. She -moved with such supple grace that Mr. Cathcart suspected an entire -absence of corsets--he was a married man. - -She came impulsively to Mr. Collings and kissed him. Mr. William -Cathcart closed his eyes, so did not meet the smirk of satisfaction -which his partner loosened for his benefit. - -“Good morning, Uncle. Good morning, Uncle Cathcart.” - -“‘Mornin’,” said Mr. Cathcart, hostile to the last. - -“‘Mornin’!” she boomed in imitation. “And I’ve come feeling awfully nice -toward you! I called you ‘Uncle’!” - -“I heard you,” glowered the newly elected relative. “It would be much -better, Miss Ford, if we proceeded on business lines----” - -“You can proceed on tram lines if that pleases you,” she sighed, taking -off her hat and tossing it on to the nearest deed-box. “Oh, Uncle -Collings, I’m _sick_!” - -Mr. Cathcart half rose in his alarm. - -“Sick of Australia, sick of the station, sick of the people, sick of -everything. I’m going home.” - -“Home!” gasped Mr. Collings. “But, my dear little Diana. If by ‘home’ -you mean England and not--er----” - -“Heaven,” suggested Mr. Cathcart. - -“I mean England, of course I mean England. I am going to stay with my -cousin, Gordon Selsbury.” - -Mr. Collings scratched his nose. - -“An elderly person, of course?” - -“I don’t know.” She shrugged her indifference. - -“Married, er----?” - -“I suppose so. If he’s nice. All the nice men are married--present -company excepted.” - -Mr. Collings was a bachelor and could afford to laugh very heartily. Mr. -Cathcart, on the other hand, _was_ married and was not even amused. - -“You have cabled and written, of course: there is no objection to your -going to--er--Mr. Selsbury’s?” - -“None whatever.” She was overridingly brisk. “He will be delighted to -have me.” - -“Twenty!” said Mr. Cathcart and shook his head. “An infant in law! I -really think we must know more about Mr. Selsbury and his condition -before--eh, Collings?” - -Mr. Collings looked appealingly at the girl; she had never seemed more -or looked less orphaned than at that moment. - -“It would be wise, perhaps--?” he no more than suggested. - -When Diana smiled her eyes wrinkled up and you saw both rows of her -small white teeth. - -“I have taken my cabin: a lovely one. With a bathroom and sitting-room. -The walls are panelled in blue brocade silk and there is a cute little -brass bedstead in the middle--so that you can fall out either side.” - -Mr. William Cathcart felt it was the moment to bring down his foot. - -“I am afraid I cannot consent to your going,” he said quietly. - -“Why?” Up went her chin. - -“Yes, why?” demanded Mr. Collings. He was anxious to know. - -“Because,” said Mr. Cathcart, “because, my dear young lady, you are an -infant in the eyes of the wise old law of this country; because Mr. -Collings and I stand _in loco parentis_ to you. Now I am old enough to -be your father----” - -“And grandfather,” she said calmly. “But does that matter? There was a -lad of sixty trying to find opportunities for squeezing my hand all the -way down in the train from Bendigo. Age means nothing if your heart is -young.” - -“Exactly!” said Mr. Collings, whose heart was very young. - -“The long and the short of it is that you can’t go,” said Mr. William -Cathcart defiantly. “I do not wish to apply for an order of the -court----” - -“One moment, little friend of the poor,” said Diana. She threw several -priceless law books and a pile of affidavits from a chair and sat down. -“A few moments ago--correct me if I am wrong: I seldom am--you produced -your hoary Mr. Loco Parentis to crush me to the earth. Meet Colonel -Locus Standi!” - -“Eh?” said William, dithered. - -“My knowledge of legal formula is slight,” said Diana gravely. “I have -lived a pure and a sheltered life amidst the rolling grass lands of -Kara-Kara, but ignorant orphan though I am....” - -Mr. Collings sighed. - -“...I understand that before a lawyer applies to the courts he must -have a client. For no lawyer, except perhaps a lawyer who has been -crossed in love and is not quite sane, goes to law without a client.” - -Mr. William Cathcart shrugged his shoulders. - -“You must make your own bed,” he said. - -“The court can’t even make me do that,” she replied. - -Mr. Cathcart saw her walking across to him and took up his pen hastily. - -“Uncle Cathcart,” she said in a low voice, “I did so hope and pray that -we should part friends! Every night when I kneel by my bed and say -‘Please, God, give Uncle Cathcart a sense of humour and make him a nice -man,’ I have expected the miracle to happen.” - -Uncle Cathcart wriggled. - -“Have your own way,” he said loudly. “I can’t put an old head on young -shoulders. Those who live longest will see most.” - -“The proof of the pudding is in the eating,” she added gently. “You -forgot that one.” - -At luncheon, Mr. Collings tapped the ash of his cigar into the coffee -saucer. - -“What is this fellow like--this Selsbury?” - -“He’s wonderful!” she said dreamily. “He rowed six in the University -eight--I’m simply crazy about him.” - -The startled Mr. Collings gazed at her in fascinated horror. - -“Is he crazy about you?” he gasped. - -Diana smiled. She was adjusting her nose with the aid of a mirror -concealed in the flap of her handbag. - -“He will be,” she said softly. - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -Neither by nature crazy, nor by inclination eccentric, Mr. Gordon -Selsbury had at moments serious but comfortable doubts as to whether he -was not a little abnormal; whether he was not, in fine, one of those -rare and gifted mortals to whom was given Vision beyond the ordinary. -His environment was the commonplace City of London; his occupation a -shrieking incongruity for a spiritual man--he was an insurance broker. -And a prosperous insurance broker. - -Sometimes he sat before the silver fire grate of his sitting-room, -amazed at the contradictory evidence of his own genius. Here (said he, -thinking impartially) was a man with a Conscious Soul, beside whom other -men were clods, vegetables, animals of the field, slaves to their -material demands. Lifted above the world and its peculiarly grimy -interests, he was a man whose spiritual head rose above fog and was one -with the snow-capped mountains and the blue skies. And yet--here was -the truly astonishing thing--he could grapple most practically with -these materialists and could tear from the clenched and frenzied paws -large quantities of soiled and greasy money.... - -“No, Trenter, I shall be out to-morrow afternoon. Will you please tell -Mr. Robert that I will see him at my office. Thank you, Trenter.” - -Trenter inclined his head respectfully and went back to the telephone. - -“No, sir, Mr. Selsbury will not be at home to-morrow.” - -Bobbie Selsbury was annoyed. - -“Will you tell him that he promised to play in a foursome with me, tell -him--ask him to come to the telephone.” - -Gordon got up from his tapestried armchair with an expressionless face. -Before the servants he revealed nothing in the least degree emotive. - -“Yes, yes, I know!” wearily. “But I had a prior engagement. You must get -somebody else. Old Mendlesohn ... what’s the matter with him? Rubbish, -my dear fellow.... At any rate, you must get somebody--I’m tremendously -busy to-morrow.... I don’t feel like discussing my business on the -telephone. Good-bye.” - -He paced his dignified way to his den. Gordon Selsbury once rowed six -in the Varsity boat--there were crossed oars above his fireplace, though -he thought the display in bad taste. He had once been a fresher whose -chief joy in life had been to steal policemen’s helmets and ride a -bicycle down forbidden pathways, and to sprint from proctors. It seemed -difficult to believe. He was tall and good-looking in the Apollo -Belvedere manner. Fair, with a forehead which was large and thoughtful, -he baffled instant analysis by carrying through life two inches of -sidewhisker on either cheek. Men seeing him first thought he wrote music -or played a ’cello. Women on introduction guessed him as a dancer of -amazing agility, or possibly a film artist. - -“Trenter....” - -Trenter waited, his head attentively thrust forward, a simulation of -intense interest on his sharp features. He continued to wait, even as -Gordon continued to frown at the fireplace. - -“Trenter....” - -“Yes, sir?” - -Slowly Mr. Selsbury turned his head until his eyes met Trenter’s. - -“I saw you kissing the parlourmaid this morning. You are a married man, -I believe?” - -Trenter blinked apprehensively. He was indeed married. - -“I do not wish that sort of thing to happen again,” said Gordon, mildly -scandalised. “You are a married man with responsibilities which cannot -be ignored or set on one side. Eleanor, as I understand her name to be, -is a young girl, possibly inflammable, certainly impressionable. To -cloud a young girl’s life by awakening in her heart a passion which you -cannot return is most reprehensible. Even I have been rocked by the -current which the stone you cast has set into motion. My shaving water -was late this morning. This must not occur again.” - -“No, sir,” said Trenter. - -News comes instantly to the servants’ hall in any event. Now, telepathy -lagged behind Trenter’s spoken word. - -Eleanor, tall, svelte, pallid of face, black eyebrows and eyes that -flashed, interrupted the operation of a lip-stick to listen. She was -tremulously indignant. - -“Because he’s a St. Andrew, does he think that we haven’t any human -feelings? The poor cold-blooded fish! I’ll let him know that I won’t be -talked about and my name took away--taken away, I mean--by a prying, -sneaking, rubber-soled spy. He is too!” - -“Who’s this St. Andrew?” Trenter was suspicious of all saints, being by -marriage a Primitive Baptist. - -“He’s the man that women tempted and he wouldn’t,” said Eleanor, -prepared to drop the illustration. But Trenter was of another mind. - -“Who’s been tempting him?” he asked, darkling eyed. - -“Nobody: not if it’s me you mean. I’d like to see him put his arm round -_my_ waist! He’d never forget it!” - -“He wouldn’t forget himself anyway,” said Trenter, relieved. - -She tossed her head sceptically. - -“Oh, I don’t know!” she said, and nodded to a warm, large woman in the -gingham and apron of her profession. “Ask cook!” - -Trenter was dazed. - -“Good God!--not you, cook?” he asked in a whisper. - -Happily Mrs. Magglesark was not a quick thinker. - -“Yes; I saw him too,” she said, and Eleanor, in terror that the telling -of the story should go elsewhere, trod on the opening of the cook’s -narrative. - -“Me and cook--that is to say cook and I--were on top of a ’bus last -Sunday----” - -“In Knightsbridge.” Thus the cook claimed her equal share of the -copyright. - -“We were laughing and talking when cook said ‘Look, Nelly--there’s the -boss.’” - -“I said ‘If that isn’t his nibs!’” amended Mrs. Magglesark. - -“And there he was!” said Eleanor. “With a girl, very tall and dressed in -black, and he was holding her hand!” - -“In the street?” incredulously. - -“In the car: from the top of a ’bus you can look down into cars, if -they’re open. Many a sight I’ve seen!” - -“Was she pretty?” asked Trenter, man-like. - -Eleanor’s lips pursed. - -“Well, I suppose some people would call her pretty. Did you think she -was pretty, cook?” - -Mrs. Magglesark, having reached the age when she regarded all young -people as passable, thought she was pretty. - -“Holding her hand!” Trenter was very thoughtful. “It wasn’t Mrs. van -Oynne?” - -“Who is she?” - -“She’s been here twice to tea. An American lady, rather well-dressed. -Heloise! That’s her name. And a good-looker. She usually wears black and -paradise feathers.” - -“_She_ wore paradise feathers!” said cook and Eleanor together. - -Trenter nodded. - -“That’s her,” he said, “but there’s nothing in it. She’s a highbrow. -Reads books and all that. Last time she was here, she and him discussed -the Ego Soul. The little bits I heard I couldn’t make head or tail of.” - -Eleanor was impressed. - -“Funny for him to be discussing eggs,” she said. - -It was not funny for Gordon Selsbury to discuss anything. With Heloise -van Oynne there seemed to be no subject, from kidney beans to -metaphysics, that he could not examine profitably. It is true that he -did most of the talking, but her rapt gaze rectified deficiencies of -speech. - -Gordon sat with her that afternoon in the tearoom of the Coburg Hotel, -and they were comparatively alone. - -“There is something I have wanted to say to you ever since I met you, -Heloise,” he said softly. “A month! It almost seems incredible! If our -theories are substantial it is incredible. We met before in the Temple -of Atlantis, where the bearded priests chanted the day through. And you -were a great lady and I was a humble gladiator. That the gladiatorial -games and even the factions of the circus have a more remote antiquity -than Rome, I am certain. Who knows but that the last remnants of dying -Atlantis were not the first peoples of Etruscan civilisation ...?” - -Her fine eyes agreed with that theory. They said as plainly as though -the words were spoken: “How brilliant of you to associate Etruria with -the mythical civilisation of Atlantis!” - -On the other hand, her eyes did not say many things that she thought. - -“What is so fine about friendship,” Gordon was going on, “is that we -have lifted common interest above the sordid range of philanderism.” - -“How’s that?” - -Her head was bent forward eagerly, enquiringly. Trenter had the same -trick, only he looked pained. - -“I mean”--Gordon Selsbury flicked a crumb of cake daintily from his -knee--“we have never tarnished the bright surface of our friendship -with that weakness which is so glibly styled ‘love.’” - -“Oh!” Heloise van Oynne sat back in her basket chair. “That’s so,” she -said, and if there was a sense of immense satisfaction in her tone, even -one attuned to her spiritual wavelength would not have observed the -circumstance. - -“The perfect sympathy, the perfect understanding, the dovetailing of -mind into mind, the oneness of a mutual soul--these transcend all -sentient impressions, whatever be the label they bear.” - -She smiled slowly and with infinite sweetness and comradeship. Heloise -invariably smiled at Gordon that way when she wasn’t quite sure what he -was talking about. Though, as to souls---- - -“The soul is certainly the finest thing we have around,” she said, in -deep thought. “That’s where we’ve got most people skinned--I should say, -at a disadvantage, you and I, Gordon. One doesn’t like to bare one’s -heart; one shrinks instinctively even from self-revelation.” - -She sighed as one who had got through an exercise of considerable -difficulty. Then, observing by certain signs that he had only, so to -speak, removed the lid of his introspections and that the real contents -of his mind would shortly spill, to be gathered up and replaced by her -none too sure hands, she interjected hastily: - -“You were telling me, Gordon, about a cousin of yours in Australia--she -must certainly be interesting, and I’m just mad to hear about your -relations. I like you, Gordon--a lot. There’s nothing about you that -doesn’t fascinate me.” - -She laid a gloved hand on his knee. No other woman could lay a hand, -gloved or ungloved, on Gordon Selsbury’s knee without his calling for -the police. But Heloise ... he laid his hand gently on hers. - -“Diana? Well, really, I know nothing about her except that she had that -tremendous affair with a fellow called Dempsi. I told you that. She’s -very well off, I believe. I’ve taken a little notice of her--sent her a -few books and a word or two of advice. I often think that a man’s advice -is ever so much more acceptable to a young girl than a woman’s. When -were we talking about her? Oh, of course, I remember! It was when we had -that tremendous talk on the growth of the Ego....” - -“Is she fair or dark?” Heloise nimbly blocked the road to metaphysics. - -“I really don’t know. I had a letter from my aunt--her aunt also--just -before the poor creature died. She said that Diana had forgotten Dempsi -and wondered where she could get his photograph--the man is dead. Has it -ever occurred to you, Heloise, how absurd are such terms as life and -de----” - -“Diana!” mused Heloise, aloud. “Poor little Australian girl. I should -like to meet her, Gordon.” - -Gordon shook his head, smiling gently. - -“I cannot imagine anything less likely,” he said, “than your meeting -her.” - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -Cheynel Gardens is one of those very select thoroughfares that no -cab-driver has ever found without the assistance of a local guide. -Taximen have “heard of it,” dimly remember having dropped a fare there -at some time or other; but where it is, only the police and the postmen -know. Often people who live in Cheynel Gardens have only the haziest -idea whether they are in Mayfair or Marylebone. - -Gordon occupied a corner house that had a garden, probably the garden -after which the thoroughfare was named, for there was no other. If a -garden can be so called that consists of a twelve by ten paved courtyard -occupied by two large bushes in tubs. - -It was the last house on the left as you turned in from Brook Street, a -handsome, sober pile of red brick and yellow sandstone, with a big study -to which stained-glass windows gave the appearance of a well-furnished -chapel. - -His study was indeed a holy place, for none entered without invitation. -It had two doors, one of thick oak, one of deadening baize, so that no -sound might disturb Gordon’s close and careful scrutiny of _The -Economist_, which, with the _Insurance Review_, formed his light -reading. By day he perused _The Times_, by night he read heavy studies -in sociology, or, if he were tired, _Zur Genealogie der -Moral_--Nietzsche being one of his favourite authors. - -He descended from the cab that brought him home, gave the driver a ten -per cent. tip worked out to the nearest penny, and erring on his own -side, and walked slowly up the steps. The door opened instantly. It was -part of the daily ritual. Trenter took his hat, his walking-stick and -his gloves, and Gordon said: - -“No letters?” - -If Trenter had said no, the ritual would have been interrupted. - -“Yes, sir, and----” - -No need to say more. Gordon was staring at four immense trunks that -almost completely covered the floor space of the hall. Three of them -were conspicuously labelled “Not wanted on voyage.” The fourth had a big -red “Cabin” pasted on its side. - -“What--on--earth--are--these?” asked Gordon breathlessly. - -“The young lady arrived this afternoon, sir.” Trenter was all a-twitter. - -“The young lady arrived--which young lady, may I ask?” - -“Miss Ford, sir.” - -Gordon’s forehead wrinkled. He had heard the name in some connection. -Ford ... Ford? It was familiar. - -“No, sir--Miss Diana Ford from Australia.” - -The cousin! Mr. Selsbury inclined his head graciously. The instincts of -hospitality were not entirely atrophied, and the Selsburys were a race -of courtly men. - -“Will you tell Miss Ford I am returned and will be glad to see her in -The Study?” - -Trenter’s face twitched. - -“She’s in The Study, sir,” he almost pleaded. “I told her that nobody -ever went when you were away and that I kept it locked.” - -Gordon was taken aback. It is disconcerting to a host to find his -hospitality anticipated and taken as a right. - -“Indeed!” he said, and smiled. “Miss Ford couldn’t be expected to -understand our ways, Trenter. I will see her.” - -He knocked at the door and a voice bade him enter. - -“I am delighted to meet you, Cousin Diana,” he said, and looked round to -discover how she might be met. - -Then from his favourite chair a white hand appeared. - -“Come in, Gordon.... I’m sure it’s Gordon.” - -She jumped up and round to face him. She had taken off her shoes for -greater comfort, and in her silk-stockinged feet looked very small. He -thought she was pretty, just as he would have thought that a kitten was -pretty. How very amusing. - -“Well, young lady,” he said with paternal good-humour, “so here you are! -I never expected to see you. Have you had a good voyage----?” - -“Are you married?” She asked the question rather tensely. - -“No, I’m not married. I’m a confirmed old bachelor.” - -“Ah!” She sighed happily. “I was awfully scared of that -complication--you haven’t kissed me.” - -Gordon was not aware that he had not kissed her, any more than he was -aware that he had not hit her on the head with the book he was carrying. -The Selsburys were a courtly race. He stooped and struck her gently with -his lips. - -“Sit down, my dear--you will have tea, of course? I am truly sorry that -I kept you waiting. Where are you staying?” - -She flashed one look at him. - -“Here,” she said. - -For a second he could not comprehend. - -“I mean, what hotel--where are you--er--sleeping to-night?” - -“Here,” said Diana. - -In moments of crisis Gordon never lost his head. He once stood on the -deck of a sinking cross-Channel steamer discussing the atomic theory -with a Cambridge don. He had twice heard burglars in the house, and had -often been called upon without notice at public meetings to propose the -health of the chairman. - -“You mean that you are coming to stay with me--for a little while? I -would be delighted, but unfortunately this is a bachelor establishment. -There are no women in the house except the domestic staff.” - -He spoke kindly; his argument was logical, his attitude correct in every -detail. - -“You want a woman about the house; it was very nearly time I came,” she -said, as unflurried as Gordon himself. - -He stifled his sigh. The position was embarrassing--other men would have -been thrown off their feet and either lost their tempers or behaved in -some way hurtfully. - -“I shall be delighted to have you here--for a few days,” he smiled. “So -run along and telephone to your chaperone and ask her to bring her -trunks here----” - -Diana pulled on her shoes, unconcerned. - -“I’ve been admiring your oars,” she said. “You rowed six, didn’t -you--and won! How splendid!” - -“Yes, yes--er--yes.” Gordon was not proud of his bygone athleticism. “Or -shall I telephone?” - -“To whom?” innocently. - -“To your chaperone ... the lady with whom you are travelling....” - -“Don’t be silly.” - -He stiffened; went limp again: turned a shade paler. - -“I travelled alone--as much alone as one can be with a hundred and fifty -saloon passengers who played deck games and enjoyed them. An -intellectual woman can have no possible community of interest with -people who enthuse over bucket quoits.” - -A chair was within reach of his hand and he sat down. Men like Gordon -Selsbury seldom lose grip of a situation, however awkward it may be. The -sheer weight of their wisdom and their personality has a tendency to -roll flat obstacles of the most tremendous nature. - -“Now I’m going to be a father and an uncle and a wise old cousin to -you,” he said, good nature rigidly and obstinately imprinted in his -smile. “You’re a young girl and somebody has got to tell you that you -cannot stay alone--er--as the guest of a bachelor.” - -She stood, her hands behind her, not the ghost of amusement in her face, -unmoved and immovable. - -“And I’ve got to tell you, Gordon Selsbury, that I not only can, but I’m -going to stay here! I am not responsible for your being a bachelor. You -ought to be married. It is unnatural to live in a big house like this by -yourself. I have come to stay and, possibly, keep house for you. You -must let me have a list of the dishes you like for breakfast. I like -grape fruit and hominy with a small crisp slice of bacon. At the same -time, Gordon, I am not averse to devilled kidneys _à la chef_--do you -like waffles? I’m crazy about them! We had a Japanese cook who made them -to perfection. Another wonderful breakfast dish is tomatoes chiffre....” - -“Diana,” he said gravely, “you are distressing me. Of course you can’t -_possibly_ stay here! My dear child, I have to consider your good name; -in after years you will realise what a dreadful thing you have proposed. -Now, my dear, I’m going to ’phone Laridge’s Hotel and ask them to -reserve a nice room for you.” - -He half rose; her hands dropped to his shoulders and she pushed him -down. It was surprising how strong she was. - -“Let us have no scandal,” said Diana firmly. “There is only one way to -get me out of this house and that is for you to send for a policeman. -And a single policeman could do very little. I have an automatic in my -dressing-bag.... I shall not hesitate to shoot.” - -He gazed at her in horror. She returned the gaze without reproach, -without doubt. She had the Will to Stay. He recognised a variation of -the Nietzsche principle. - -“There is only one thing left for me to do, Diana,” he said. His gravity -was so profound that he intoned his speech; it became a Gregorian chant -in the minor key. “I must go out from my house and leave you here. I -myself must take a room in a near hotel.” - -“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” she said. “If you do I shall put -advertisements in all the papers: - - “Missing from his home since Friday, Mr. Gordon Selsbury. Tall, - fair, fresh complexion, rather good-looking.” - -Gordon licked dry lips. Life was drab and sordid, but nothing in life -was quite so vulgar and hateful as the popular press. The only time in -his life that he had ever experienced a nightmare, the vision had taken -a particularly hideous shape. He dreamt that he had been locked up for -smothering a chorus girl, and was ordered by the judge to write his -impressions of the murder in a Sunday newspaper. - -“You will perhaps think better of this in a few days,” he said huskily. -“I feel sure that, when you realise what you are doing----” - -She sat down at his beautifully tidy writing-table, took up a pen, and -snatched from his stationery rack a sheet of notepaper. - -“Now tell me what you like for breakfast,” she said. “Smoked haddock ... -salmon steak ... fish is good for the brain. Do you mind if I call you -Gord?” - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -One day Diana came back from a conscientious tour of the stores and -found a thin and middle-aged lady sitting in the drawing-room. She -greeted Diana with a deferential smile. She was such a middle-aged lady -as might have stepped from the pages of a late Victorian novel, and -Diana regarded her steadily, for she wore no hat, had the skimpy -beginnings of a purple wool jumper on her knees, and in her hands two -knitting needles that seemed to be operating of their own volition all -the time she talked. - -“Good afternoon! You’re Miss Ford, aren’t you, my dear? I’m Miss -Staffle, and I do hope we are going to be good friends!” - -“I hope so,” said Diana. “We’ll be better friends when I understand. Are -you a guest of ours?” - -Click-flash-flicker went the needles. Diana looked in awe. She was the -only woman in the world who had never knitted a jumper. - -“Well ... yes. Mr. Selsbury thought you would be rather lonely. It -doesn’t do for us girls to be too much alone. We brood.” - -“I’m brooding at this minute.” Diana was very incisive in business -hours. “Do I understand that you have been engaged as a chaperone?” - -“Companion,” murmured Miss Staffle. - -“That makes it easier,” Diana opened her pocket-book. “Your salary -is----?” - -Miss Staffle murmured the amount. - -“Here is two months’ pay,” said Diana. “I have decided not to engage a -companion.” - -She rang the bell; the needles became stationary. - -“Eleanor,” to the svelte parlourmaid, “Miss Staffle is leaving before -tea. Will you see that her boxes are brought down, and tell Trenter to -have a nice clean taxi waiting?” - -“But, my dear”--Miss Staffle’s voice was slightly acidulated--“Mr. -Selsbury engaged me, and I am afraid....” - -“Mr. Selsbury doesn’t want a companion,” said Diana. “Now, my angel, are -you going to give me trouble, or are you going to be a sweet little -cherub and fly?” - -Gordon came home prepared to face a storm and ready to present a rocky -face either to the waves of her wrath or the drizzle of her tears. He -found her trying a new record on a brand-new gramophone, her feet moving -lightly to the magical rhythm of “I Ain’t Nobody’s Darling.” He resented -the gramophone, but had other matters of greater moment to discuss. -There was no sign of the excellent Miss Staffle. - -“Anybody been?” he asked carelessly. - -She stopped whistling. - -“Nobody except an elderly lady who made the curious mistake of thinking -I wanted a companion.” - -“Where is she?” asked Gordon, his heart sinking. - -“I didn’t trouble to take her address,” said Diana. “Why--did you want -her?” - -“You sent her away?” - -Diana nodded. - -“Yes; her industry was appalling.” And then, as a thought occurred: “Was -the jumper for _you_?” - -“You sent a--er--um--person I engaged away from my house?” sternly. -“Really, Diana! This is a little too much! Let’s have this out, my -dear.” - -Diana changed the record. - -“Tea will be served in ten minutes,” she said. “And Gordon, my dear, -your shoes are muddy. Run up and change them.” - -Revolt flew red signals on his cheeks. - -“I will do nothing of the kind!” he said sharply. “I will not be ordered -about in my own house. Diana, you have gone too far! This intolerable -situation must end here and now.” - -He brought his hand slapping down on the back of the easy chair. He was -determined. - -“Either you or I leave this house to-night,” he said. “I have had -enough! Already the servants are talking. I saw a particularly sinister -smile on Trenter’s face when you came down to breakfast in your negligee -this morning. I have a position, a reputation, a name in the City of -London--I must guard my interests against the thoughtless, selfish folly -of reckless adolescence!” - -“What a name to call a lady!” she said reproachfully. - -“I will not temporise; I will not allow a very serious situation to be -turned into a jest. Either you leave Cheynel Gardens or I.” - -She thought a moment, then walked out of the room. Gordon heard her at -the telephone in the hall and smiled. A little firmness was all that was -required. - -“Is that the _Morning Telegram_? This is Miss Diana Ford speaking. Will -you send a reporter to 61 Cheynel Gardens----” - -In two seconds he was in the hall and had covered the transmitter with a -frantic hand. - -“What are you going to do?” he asked frenziedly. - -She shrugged a shoulder. - -“Life without you is insupportable, Gordon,” she said brokenly. “You are -the only relation I have in the world, and if you turn me out what is -there left but the river?” - -“You’re mad,” he wailed. - -“The coroner will take that charitable view, I hope--don’t interrupt me, -Gordon. They want to speak to me.” - -By sheer force he lifted her away from the instrument and took the -receiver in his own hand. - -“Don’t bother to send anybody ... she is quite well ... alive. I mean, -there’s no suicide ...” - -Out of breath, he strode back to The Study. - -“Your conduct is abominable! You are shameless! I can well understand -why your wretched Dempsi ran away, preferring to die in the bush than be -any longer associated with such an infernal little termagant!” - -The Selsburys were a courtly people, but there was a limit to their -patience. He was savage, cruel, and knew he was behaving unpardonably -before the words were out of his mouth. - -“I’m sorry,” he muttered. - -Her face was set, a mask that showed nothing of her thoughts. - -“I’m extremely sorry. I shouldn’t have said that--please forgive me.” - -Still she did not speak. Her eyes were tragic in their steadfast, -unwinking gaze. He stole quietly from the room, and then she spoke her -thoughts aloud. - -“How absurd not to have the telephone connected with the study! I’ll -write to the Post Office this very night.” - -A very silent dinner. Gordon was going out and was resplendent in his -raiment. - -“I am taking a friend to a theatre to-night,” he said. - -“I haven’t seen a show for years,” she sighed. - -“This would not interest you. It is a Russian play dealing with social -unrest.” - -She sighed again. - -“I love Russian plays. All the characters die so nicely and you know -where you are. In a musical comedy you can never be sure who anybody -is.” - -Gordon shuddered. - -“This is not a play for a young girl,” he said gently. - -She was unconvinced. - -“If you very much wanted me to come, I could dress in five minutes,” she -suggested. “I hardly know what I shall do with myself to-night.” - -“Think out to-morrow’s breakfast,” he said bitterly. - -Alone, she gave her mind alternately to serious thought and the new -gramophone. She did think of Dempsi sometimes, and a little uneasily. -Not that she had loved that strange progeny of Michael Dempsi and Marie -Stezzaganni. Dempsi came into her life as an earthquake intrudes upon -the domesticity of a Californian farmer. He shifted the angle of things -and had been a great disturbance. She never really remembered Dempsi, -except that he was very slight and very wiry and very voluble. She -remembered that he had thrown himself at her feet, had threatened to -shoot her, had told her he adored her and was ready to forsake his -career in the church. Finally, on a hot February morning (she remembered -that the roses were thick in the big garden) he had flung his worldly -possessions at her feet, taken an intense and tearful farewell, and had -dashed madly into the bush, never to return. - -In point of fact, the nearest bush country was a hundred miles away, but -he had said that he was going to the bush “to end a life already -prolonged beyond the limits of human endurance and find forgetfulness in -oblivion,” and he had probably kept his word. So far as the “bush” part -of the contract was concerned. She did not mourn him. If she wondered at -all, it was as to the circumstances in which he would reappear and claim -some eight thousand pounds neatly tied in one package that it might be -the more effectively and dramatically thrown at her feet, and which in -truth missed her feet by a wide margin and struck the station cat, who, -being newly maternal, flew at Dempsi and accelerated his wild flight. -She did not tell her aunt about the eight thousand; Mrs. Tetherby being, -as she had been described, “inert,” had an objection to fuss of any -kind. More than this, she possessed one curious weakness--a horror of -debt. The knowledge that she was under monetary obligation kept her -awake. An overlooked garage account once reduced her to a state of -nervous prostration. Other people’s money she would not touch, and, on -an occasion when, having paid her shearers, she was requested by the men -to keep the money from Saturday to Monday, she paced the verandah for -two nights, a shot gun under her arm. - -It was largely due to this weakness that all money affairs were in -Diana’s hands from the age of fifteen. Diana put the eight thousand to -her own account and spent an interesting three months planning and -drawing expensive memorials to the departed Dempsi. In the back pages of -a dictionary, under the heading “Foreign words and phrases,” she -discovered an appropriate epitaph. - - SATIS ELOQUENTIÆ SAPIENTIÆ PARUM - -“He had great eloquence but little sense.” - -As the years passed, and her uneasiness increased, she made half-hearted -attempts to discover his relatives, though she knew that he was without -so much as a known cousin. And then, gradually, Dempsi had receded into -the background. She was beloved of a romantic squatter. This affair -ended abruptly when the romantic squatter’s unromantic wife arrived in a -high-powered car and bore him off to serve the remainder of his -sentence. - -Diana gave exactly five minutes of her thoughts to Dempsi. For the -remainder of the evening she practised a new waltz step which had -surprisingly found its way into jazz. - -“What I can’t understand,” said Trenter, “is why the boss allows this -sort of thing to go on. It’s downright improper, a young woman living in -a bachelor’s house. It reminds me of a case old Superbus once told me -about--he’s a court bailiff and naturally he sees the seamy side of -life----” - -“I wouldn’t have a bailiff for a friend if you paid me a million,” said -Eleanor, who had been brought up in an atmosphere of financial -embarrassment. “I’d sooner have a burglar. Don’t you worry about our -young Di, Arthur. She’s all there! Personally speaking, I’m glad she’s -arrived. What about me--haven’t I any morals? Hasn’t me and cook--cook -and I, that is to say--lived in the same house with a bachelor for a -year?” - -“You’re different,” said Trenter. - -“Guess again,” said Eleanor. - -“The house hasn’t been what it was.” A touch of sadness in Trenter’s -voice had its origin in obscure sources. - -Methodical as Gordon was, he never counted his cigars. Diana, on the -other hand, had an eye for quantity. It was she who asked delicately -whether he thought there were mice in the house, and, if so, did he -think that they preferred Coronas to cheese. - -“There’s a big change coming--a terrific change. I feel it in my bones,” -he said. “And I know! I’ve always had second sight even as a boy.” - -“You should wear glasses,” said Eleanor. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -On an afternoon in late summer Heloise van Oynne looked across the -darkening river, seemed for a moment absorbed in the gay lighting of one -of the moored house-boats, and then: - -“Tell me some more about Diana, please. She must be fas-cinating!” she -pleaded. - -Her companion shifted a little uncomfortably. He had already said more -about Diana than he wished or intended saying. - -“Well ... you know all about Diana. I hope you will meet her ... some -day.” - -There was just that little pause before the last word that meant so much -to a woman with an acute sense of tone, and Heloise was supersensitive -because it was her business to be. To-day she seemed unusually ethereal. - -She was pretty, slim (Diana would have called her “skinny”), -spirituelle. In the deep, dark eyes was mystery ... elusiveness; -something that occasionally made his flesh creep pleasantly. - -Gordon Selsbury was not in love. He was not the easily loving kind. It -pleased him to know that he had a mystery of his own--he had once been -described as “sphinx-like.” - -If Diana had been older and were not his cousin, and had not -in her masterful way installed herself in his house, defiant -of the conventions, and were not so infernally sarcastic and -self-sufficient--well, he might feel nicer toward her. - -Talking of Diana.... - -He looked at the watch on his wrist. He had told her he would be in for -dinner. Heloise saw the movement and smiled inwardly. - -“Was it serious, that affair of hers?” she asked gently. - -Gordon coughed. Heloise never met him but she talked of Diana’s affair. -It was a curious piece of femininity that he did not expect to find in a -woman. Not his kind of woman. - -He was relieved of the necessity for answering. - -“Who is that man, Gordon?” - -The skiff had passed twice under the hotel terrace where they sat at tea -that afternoon, and twice the big, red-faced man had peered up at the -two people. - -“I don’t know. Shouldn’t we be going?” - -She made no attempt to rise. - -“When do I see you again, Gordon? Life is so blank and miserable without -you. Does Diana monopolise you so entirely? People wouldn’t understand, -would they? I don’t love you and you do not love me. If you thought I -loved you, you would never see me again.” She laughed quietly. “It is -just your soul and mind”--her voice was very low--“just the clear -channel of understanding that makes our minds as one. Love doesn’t bring -that, or marriage.” - -“It is rather wonderful.” He nodded many times. “Extraordinary--people -would never understand.” - -She thought they wouldn’t. - -“I’m just aching for The Day to come,” she said, staring across the -river. “I don’t think it ever will come: not The Day of my dreams.” - -Gordon Selsbury had this premonition too; had been waiting all afternoon -to translate his doubt into words. - -“I’ve been thinking the matter over, Heloise--that trip to Ostend. Of -course, it would be lovely seeing one another every day and all day, and -living, if not under the same roof, at least in the same environment. -The uninterrupted contact of mind--that is beautifully appealing. But -do you think it wise? I am speaking, of course, from your point of view. -Scandal doesn’t touch a man grossly.” - -She turned her glorious eyes to his. - -“‘They say: what say they? Let them say,’” she quoted contemptuously. - -He shook his head. - -“Your name is very precious to me,” he said, not without a hint of -emotion, “very precious, Heloise. I feel that, although the Ostend -season is past and most of the hotels are closed and visitors have -dispersed, as I understand they do disperse from fashionable seaside -resorts, there is a possibility, a bare possibility, that we should see -somebody there who knew me--us, I mean--and who would put the worst -possible construction upon what--er--would be the most innocent -intellectual recreation. It is extremely dangerous.” - -She was laughing hardly as she rose. - -“I see,” she said. “You are really conventional underneath, Gordon. It -was a mad idea--don’t let us talk any more about it. It hurts me a -little.” - -In silence he paid the bill, in silence followed her into his car. He -was hurt too. Nobody had ever called him conventional. Half way across -Richmond Park he said: - -“We will go: let us say no more. I will meet you as we arranged.” - -The only answer she made was to squeeze his arm until they were flying -down Roehampton Lane, and then, dreamily: - -“There is something Infinite in friendship like ours, Man. It is all too -wonderful....” - -Diana was reading a magazine in The Study when Gordon came in. She threw -down the magazine and jumped up from the chair (she sat at his desk when -she read, with the exasperating result that the writing surface, which -he left neat and ordered on his going out, was generally in a state of -chaos on his coming in). - -“Dinner,” she said tersely. “You’re late, Gord, devilishly late.” - -Mr. Selsbury’s expression was pained. - -“I wish you would not call me ‘Gord,’ Diana,” he complained gently. “It -sounds--well, blasphemous.” - -“But oh, it fits,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t know how it -fits!” - -Gordon shrugged his shoulders. - -“At any rate, ‘devilish’ is not ladylike.” - -“Where have you been?” she asked with that disconcerting brusqueness of -hers. - -“I have been detained----” - -“Not at your office,” said Diana promptly, as she sat down at the table -and pointed an accusing finger. “You haven’t been back since luncheon.” - -Mr. Selsbury cast a resigned look at the ceiling. - -“I have been detained on a purely private business matter,” he said -stiffly. - -“Dear, dear!” said Diana, unimpressed. - -Nothing really impressed Diana. She had, she boasted, passed the -impressionable age. - -Gordon had come to admit to himself that she was pretty; in a way she -was beautiful. She had blue eyes, willow pattern blue, and a skin like -satin. He admitted that her figure was rather lovely. If she had been -older or younger, if her hair had not been bobbed--if she had a little -more respect for wisdom, an appreciation of thought, a little something -of hero-worship! - -He strolled gloomily to the window and stared blankly into the dusk. -Diana was an insoluble problem. - -Trenter came in at that moment. - -“Trenter.” - -“Yes, sir.” The butler crossed to his employer. - -“Do you see that man on the other side of the road--that red-faced man?” - -It was the stranger of the skiff. Gordon recognised him at once. - -“I’ve seen him before to-day ... rather a coincidence.” - -“Yes, sir,” agreed Trenter. “That’s Mr. Julius Superbus.” - -Gordon gaped at him. - -“Julius Superbus--what the devil do you mean?” - -“Language!” murmured a voice in the background. How like Diana. - -“What on earth do you mean? That is a Roman name.” - -Trenter smirked. - -“Yes, sir. Mr. Superbus is a Roman, the last Roman left in England. He -comes from Cæsar Magnus--it’s a little village near Cambridge. I used to -be in service there, that’s how I come to know him.” - -Gordon frowned heavily. By what strange chance had he come to see this -oddly named creature twice in one day--at Hampton, rowing a boat with -some labour; in Cheynel Gardens, apparently absorbed in the study of a -near-by lamp-post? - -“What is he--by profession?” - -“A detective, sir,” said Trenter. - -Gordon went suddenly pale. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -Sometimes, mostly all the time, Gordon forgot that before the name of -Heloise van Oynne was that magical prefix “Mrs.” Too nice-minded to -discover, even by an indirect method, the extent of her indiscretion, -Gordon had conceived in his mind a marriage between two persons -diametrically unsuited one to the other. He fashioned Mr. van Oynne in -the image of a gross, unimaginative business man, without soul, and saw -dimly a struggle between opposing ideals; sullen fury or blank -indifference on the man’s part, and, in the case of Heloise, a refined -suffering and an infinite restlessness in her, until there came into her -life the other half of her intellectual being. Which was Gordon. - -He looked out of the window again. - -Mr. Julius Superbus was deliberately charging a black pipe from a -sealskin tobacco pouch. He seemed the kind of man who would stoop to the -meanest methods to gain his ends. And a prurient brute who would think -nothing of writing reports highly disparaging to a slim, aesthetic -girl. A detective! In desperation he turned to Diana. - -“Diana, do you mind if I have The Study for a little while? I want to -see a man.” - -She waved a cheery farewell as she disappeared through the door at the -far end of the room. - -“Bring him in.” - -“Bring him in, sir?” Trenter was intrigued. - -Gordon repeated the order. - -“He’s not a gentleman, sir,” warned Trenter, desiring exculpation in -advance. - -This was in case Mr. Superbus was even less of a gentleman than he -thought him to be. Gordon has never any illusions on the subject. He -said as much tersely, and Trenter went forth in a spirit of joyful -anticipation, knowing that the nature of this interview would be -repeated to him when next he met his friend. - -A wait, and then: - -“Mr. Superbus, sir,” said Trenter correctly. He bowed the visitor into -the study, and withdrew. - -There was nothing in the appearance of Mr. Superbus that was suggestive -of Roman culture at its zenith. He was very short, and waddled rather -than walked. He was fat so that, if he were standing on two square feet -of his own property, his waistcoat might have been arrested for trespass -on neighbouring land. His face was very red and broad; he had a stubbly -black moustache, which was obviously dyed; on his otherwise bald head, -twenty-seven hairs were parted, thirteen on one side and fourteen on the -other. He had often counted them. - -He stood, breathing audibly and twisting his hat in his blue hands. - -“Sit down, Mr. Superbus,” said Gordon awkwardly. “Trenter was telling me -that you are--in fact, you have the distinction of being a Roman?” - -Mr. Superbus bent forward before he sat, as though to assure himself -that his feet were all present and correct. - -“Yes, sir,” he said, in a rich, deep voice. “I believe I am. Us -Superbusses”--he gave the word a pronunciation which suggested that he -had been named after a public vehicle of unusual size--“have come down -for generations. There’s only four of us now--there’s me, my brother -Augustus, who’s married to a young woman in Coventry; there’s Agrippa, -who’s doing very well with her third husband--this one doesn’t drink, -I’m happy to say--and there’s Scipius: he’s on the stage.” - -“Really!” said Gordon, dazzled for the moment. - -“Yes, he’s on the stage,” said Mr. Superbus with great satisfaction, -“and doing very well. They say he’s the best carpenter they’ve ever had -at the Gaiety. Yes, we’re an ancient family. I’ve never got the rights -of it, but an old gentleman who lives at Cambridge told me that, if -everybody had his due, I ought to be a member of the Roman Royal Family, -being the eldest.” - -Near Cæsar Magnus is the University of Cambridge, and there have been -soured antiquarians who have suggested that the illustrious family of -Superbus owed its origin to the freakish whim of certain freshmen whose -gowns rustled in Petty Cury a hundred years ago. That these same -students, in their humour, had adopted the family of an indigent carter, -one Sooper, and had christened the family afresh. Mr. Superbus had heard -these rumours and had treated them with contempt. - -“How we came to start I don’t know,” he said, on his favourite topic; -“but you know what women are when Romans are about!” - -Gordon did not even trouble to guess. - -“Now, Mr. Superbus, you have--er--a very important position. You’re a -detective, I understand?” - -Mr. Superbus nodded soberly. - -“It must be an interesting life, watching people,” he suggested, “going -into court and li--testifying to their various misdoings?” - -“I never go into court,” said Mr. Superbus. And here, apparently, he had -a grievance. “My work, so to speak, is commercial. Not that I shan’t go -into court if a certain coop comes off.” - -“Coop?” Gordon was puzzled. - -“Coop,” repeated Mr. Superbus emphatically. - -“What do you mean--coop? Are you looking for people who steal chickens?” -asked Gordon, at sea. - -“By ‘coop’ I mean--well, you know what I mean, sir. Suppose I bring off -a big bit of business--” - -“Oh, coup!” said Gordon, enlightened. “I see. You have a coup?” - -“I always called it coop myself,” said Mr. Superbus graciously, and -leaving Gordon with the impression that he was being humoured. “Yes, -I’ve got a coop up my sleeve.” He lowered his voice and stretched -himself to as near Gordon as his body could reach. “I’m after Double -Dan,” he whispered hoarsely. - -A heavy burden rolled from Gordon’s heart. So the “Mrs.” had nothing to -do with the matter at all! Nor the gross husband, who thought more of -his dogs and his horses than of the flaming intellect of his beautiful -wife. (Gordon was thorough: the gross husband must have his pets.) - -“I seem to remember the name,” he said slowly. “Double Dan? Isn’t that -the man who impersonates people?” - -“You’ve got it, sir,” said Mr. Superbus. “He don’t impersonate them, he -_is_ them! Take Mr. Mendlesohn----” - -Now Gordon remembered. - -“You’d never think anybody could impersonate him, though, with his white -whiskers and him not being married, it wasn’t so hard. He got away with -eight thousand pounds, did Dan. Got Mr. Mendlesohn out of the way, -walked into his private office and sent a new clerk out with a cheque. -That’s why Mr. Mendlesohn’s gone into the country. He daren’t hold up -his head.” - -“Oh, I see,” said Gordon slowly. “You’re acting on behalf of----?” - -“The Brokers’ Association--he goes after brokers.” - -Gordon seldom laughed, but he was laughing softly now. - -“And you have been following me round to protect me, eh?” - -“Not exactly that, sir,” said Mr. Superbus with professional reserve. -“What I was trying to do was to get to know you, so that I’d make no -mistake if Dan tried to ‘double’ you.” - -“Have a cigar?” said Gordon. - -Mr. Superbus said he didn’t mind if he did; that he would take it home, -and smoke it in the seclusion of his own house. - -“My good lady likes the smell of a cigar,” he said. “It keeps away the -moths. I’ve been married now for three and twenty years, and there isn’t -a better woman on the face of the earth than my good lady.” - -“A Roman?” asked Gordon. - -“No, sir,” replied Mr. Superbus gravely. “Devonshire.” - -Diana, coming into the room half an hour later, saw Gordon standing with -his back to the fireplace, his hands clasped behind him, his head -slightly bent, a picture of practical thought. - -“Who was that funny little man I saw go out of the house?” she asked. - -“He is a man named Superbus,” said Gordon, roused from his reverie with -a start, “who has been making certain enquiries. He’s been trying to -trace somebody who has robbed a man of eight thousand pounds.” - -“Oh!” said Diana, and sat down quickly. The ghost of the late Mr. Dempsi -was very active at that moment. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -Diana liked Bobbie Selsbury the moment she saw him. He was a smaller -edition of his brother, a brusque, cynical young man, with a passion for -revue and the more clingy variations of modern dancing. Also he was -engaged to a girl in Canada, and had no intense interest in any other -woman. She liked him most because he was entirely without that brand of -soul which wriggled so frequently under the scalpel of his brother. - -He came to dinner twice, and on the second occasion Gordon thought his -relative was on sufficiently good terms with his unwanted guest, to -discuss openly the impropriety of her continued stay. - -“Bobbie is what is known as a man of the world,” said Gordon. When -Gordon introduced the virtues of his friends, he did so in the manner of -a chairman at a public meeting bringing an unknown speaker to the notice -of an audience. “He has a keener concept of relative social values than -either I, who am a little old-fashioned, or you, my child, who have led -a cloistered life. I think we can safely leave the issue in Bobbie’s -hands. Now, Bobbie, I’m going to put the matter to you without -prejudice. Is it right that Diana should be staying in the same house as -I, without a chaperone?” - -“I don’t see why she should want a chaperone with a dry old stick like -you,” said Bobbie instantly. “Besides, you’re cousins. She has certainly -made Cheynel Gardens a place worth visiting, which it never was before.” - -“But the world--” protested Gordon. - -“The other day you were telling me how superior you were to the world -and its opinions,” said the traitor Bobbie. “You told me that the views -of the hoi polloi passed you by without making the least impression. You -said that a man should rise superior to the test of public approval. You -said----” - -“What I said,” snapped Gordon testily, “had a general application to -certain schools of philosophical thought. It did not apply, and never -will apply, to questions of behaviour and propriety.” - -“Diana is here, and you’re a lucky devil to have somebody to darn your -socks. Does he pay you anything, Diana?” - -She shook her head. - -“I am living on my little capital,” she said plaintively, and Gordon -felt a brute, but it was not until the next morning that he raised the -subject again. - -“I’m afraid I’ve been rather thoughtless, Diana,” he said. “Will you -please buy anything you want and give me a note of any money you -require?” - -She leant back in her chair, laughing softly. - -“You dear goop!” she said. “Of course I don’t want money! I am rolling -in riches.” - -“Then why did you tell Bobbie----” - -“I like sympathy,” she said calmly. “And nobody gives me sympathy except -Eleanor. She’s rather a pretty girl, isn’t she?” - -“I haven’t noticed,” said Gordon. - -“I knew you hadn’t,” she said, “when I discovered that you’d never -kissed her.” - -Gordon’s mouth was occupied with bacon at the moment, but he stood up -and made an unearthly noise of protest. - -“No, I don’t ask servants such questions,” said Diana primly, “but a -woman has instincts, and there’s always a way of finding these things -out. Gordon, you are exonerated,” she added with a generous gesture. - -“Your philosophy of life is amazing,” he said, after he had recovered -some of his calm. “Whatever made you think I should kiss her?” - -“Because she’s pretty,” said Diana. “All men want to kiss pretty girls -if they’re normal. Lots of people have wanted to kiss me.” - -Gordon raised his eyebrows without looking up. He was not revolted; he -was simply resigned. - -“You haven’t asked me whether I let them,” she said after waiting. - -“I’m not interested,” said Gordon coldly. - -“Not a teeny weeny bit?” - -Anxiety was in her voice, but he was not deceived. He had learnt by hard -experience that when Diana was most wistful, she was usually gurgling -with internal laughter. A terrible girl. - -“I’ve only had two affairs,” she went on, regardless of his distaste. -“There was Dempsi and there was Dingo.” - -“Who was Dingo?” he was trapped into asking. - -“His name wasn’t really Dingo, it was Mr. Theophilus Shawn. He was a -married man with five children.” - -“Good God!” Gordon dropped his knife and fork on the plate helplessly. - -“He never kissed me,” she said. “His wife came and took him away just as -I was getting to like the smell of cloves--he used to eat cloves. He -said it made his hair grow. Whenever he ran short of cloves he got into -his car and drove to the hotel to get some. He’d go a dozen times a day. -He was staying with Auntie; she met him at a lecture on sunspots, but -she didn’t know anything about his wife until she came for him. She was -an awfully nice woman, and thanked me for looking after her husband. She -said she hadn’t seen him sober before--she was awfully interested in -him. I think wives should get to know their husbands before they’re -married, don’t you?” - -Mr. Selsbury sighed. - -“I think you’re talking a lot of abject nonsense,” he said, “and I wish -to heaven you’d get to know your husband!” - -She smiled, but did not reply. She felt that he had been shocked enough -for one day. - -He was making as if to get up from the breakfast table when she -remembered a question she wanted to ask him. - -“Gordon, that man who came yesterday, the man with the Hebrew name----” - -“Roman. You mean Superbus?” - -She nodded. - -“Whom did he want?” she asked, playing with her serviette ring. - -“He was looking for a robber, a man named”--he cast up his eyes, trying -to recall the title--“Double Dan, a swindler.” - -“Is that so?” drawled Diana, her eyes on the tablecloth. “Are you going, -Gordon? What time will you be home?” - -“When my business permits me to return,” he said in his stateliest -fashion. “Do you realise, Diana, that nobody has ever asked me that -question in my life?” - -“Why, I ask you every day,” she said in wonder. - -“I mean, nobody except you. My comings and goings have never been -questioned, and for the life of me I don’t see why they should be -questioned now.” - -“I’m not questioning you, I’m merely asking you,” said Diana, -aggrieved. “I only want to know because of dinner.” - -“I may not be home to dinner,” said Gordon shortly, and went forth to an -actuarial orgy, for business had improved at an enormous rate recently, -and he was engaged in organising a new form of insurance. - -He had at least the will power to put out of his head a problem which -rippled the smooth current of his thoughts. Only in the luncheon hour -did he return to grapple with the projected soul tour. He wished that -Heloise had chosen some other venue than Ostend. Ostend in itself was -improper, and associated in all respectable minds with licence and -luxury. He felt that he might have been a little more firm about Diana -staying on at Cheynel Gardens if he himself had not outraged, or -contemplated the outrage of convention.... Convention was an ugly word, -a bourgeois word.... What he really meant was ... he thought in vain for -a synonym. The Ostend idea was a mad idea, and he wondered who had -thought of it. At the same time, there was no reason why he should be -recognised if he kept away from the quay, where the incoming Continental -boats pull in; and, if necessary, he could alter his appearance -slightly ... he went hot and cold at the thought. There was something -furtive and underhand about the very notion. Diana had made mock of -those little smears of sidewhiskers, and he never went to the barber but -that individual made some reference to the appendages. He had seriously -considered their removal. Especially since Heloise had wondered why he -wore them. She thought they made him look rather older than he was. It -would be in the nature of a subtle compliment to her if he appeared on -The Day clean-shaven. As to the other matter, one did not go to Ostend -in a morning coat and top hat. He might wear his sports suit or--but he -had a tailor with views, and to this merchant of habit he appealed on -his way home. The tailor listened alertly. - -“If you are going abroad, I should advise a couple of tweed suits. Grey -checks are being worn by everybody--a check with a little red in it. No, -sir, oh dear, no! Lord Furnisham had a suit of that character only last -month, and he, as you know, is a man of taste and refinement. _And_ one -of the leading men at the Convocation of Laymen--a dear friend of the -Archbishop’s.” - -Gordon saw the patterns, was panic-stricken by their joviality. And -yet.... Who would recognise Gordon Selsbury in a fashionable grey check -with a little red in it? - -“Rather noisy, don’t you think?” he wavered. - -The tailor smiled tolerantly at a bolt of blue serge. - -“My clients do not think so,” he said. He was so great a tailor that he -had clients. - -“Very well.” - -Gordon gave the order. He told himself that he was not committed to the -trip. But if he did go, he possessed an outfit. That was a comfort. - -Heloise was staying at the Majestic (if it was still open). Gordon would -arrange for rooms at the Splendid--with the same contingency. They were -to meet after breakfast every morning and lunch together at a little -café on Place des Armes. On one day they would go to Bruges together and -see the pictures. A tour of the Littoral was a possibility. Between -whiles there were books to be discussed, the lectures of a brand-new -exponent of a brand-new philosophy to be attended. He held what may be -described as an ethical clinic at Mariakirk and was the original excuse -for the trip. A party of Thinkers was projected to sit at the feet of De -Waal (that was his name) and learn laboriously the difference between -right and wrong, right being what had hitherto appeared to be wrong, and -wrong being proved, by the new school of thought and its principal -exegete, to be so absurdly right that the wonder was that nobody had -seen it all along. The party had fallen through. The new Master had been -discredited by a newer, a German who demonstrated that there was neither -right nor wrong in any kind of question whatsoever. - -Gordon’s dilemma was born of this projected Pilgrimage of Reason, and -one aspect of the holiday worried him: the possibility of something -happening which would make it imperative that he should be communicated -with. - -In reality this was the strongest argument against the trip. Only by -taking somebody into his confidence could such an adventure be -undertaken. Diana was, of course, impossible. Gordon pinched his lip and -rehearsed the terms in which he would convey to his agent the exact -character of his journey. His attempt to put into words so remarkable -and so unbelievable a project left him with a cold sense of dismay. Of -all the people he thought likely he started with Bobbie; he also ended -with Bobbie. - -Robert G. Selsbury had an office on Mark Lane, where, from ten o’clock -in the morning until four o’clock in the afternoon, he bought and sold -tea, coffee and sugar to his own considerable profit. Gordon had only -been to the office once. He thought it was rather stuffy and rather -redolent of the two principal commodities in which Bobbie dealt. His own -office in Queen Victoria Street was both rich and chaste and odourless, -except for the faint fragrance of lavender--Gordon was strong for -germicides, and that mostly employed to destroy the ravaging microbe had -that suggestion of the lavender fields. Bobbie never came to see his -brother without the sense that he ought to be wearing a boudoir cap and -bedroom slippers. - -The principal stockholder of R. G. Selsbury Ltd. was examining a sample -of china tea when his brother was announced. - -“Mr. Gordon?” asked Bobbie incredulously, and when the girl confirmed -the tidings: “Push him in,” he said, and Gordon, who would have resented -even the gentlest of pushes, entered unaided. - -“What’s the matter?” asked Bobbie. - -Gordon seated himself very carefully, put down his glossy silk hat on -the table and slowly stripped his gloves. - -“Robert, I’m rather in a tangle and I want you to help me out.” - -“It can’t be money--it must be love. Who is she?” - -“It is neither money nor love,” retorted Gordon with some asperity. “It -is ... well, a delicate matter.” - -Bobbie whistled, and a whistle can be very offensive. - -“I’m going to tell you the facts.” Gordon had to struggle with himself; -he was on the point of inventing an excuse for calling and making a -hasty retreat. - -“Is it about Diana?” - -“No, it _isn’t_ about Diana,” snapped the elder. “Diana has nothing -whatever to do with it. It is like this--old man....” - -The “old man” sobered Bobbie. It showed that his brother was not his -normal self. So he listened without interruption to the lamest story he -had ever heard; to the most transparent invention that had yet been -displayed for the scorn of sceptic. - -“Who is Mrs. van Oynne?” he asked at last. - -“She’s ... well, I don’t want to discuss her. I met her at a -conversazione of the Theosophical Society. She’s rather ... wonderful.” - -“I should say so,” said Bobbie drily. “Of course you won’t go?” - -It needed but this piece of assurance to decide Gordon. - -“Of course I _shall_ go,” he said firmly. “I need the change; I need the -intellectual recreation.” - -“But why go to Ostend to discuss souls? What’s the matter with Battersea -Park?” insisted Bobbie. “It’s the most lunatic idea I have heard! And of -course, if you’re spotted in Ostend your name for henceforth and -everlasting will be Waste Product Esquire. I suppose you’re telling the -truth. From any other man I wouldn’t think twice about it; I’d know that -it was a clumsy lie. Have you thought of Diana?” - -A staggering question: Gordon was taken aback. - -“I don’t see how this affects Diana. What the dickens has she got to do -with it?” - -“She’s an inmate of your house,” said Bobbie, in a serious mood. “Any -reflection upon your good name is a reflection upon hers.” - -“She can leave--I wish to heaven she would leave!” retorted Gordon -viciously. “You don’t imagine that I intend allowing the possibility of -Diana knowing to stand in my way? She is an interloper--in a way I -despise her. She’s hateful to me sometimes. Are you going to help me or -aren’t you?” - -He flung the ultimatum across the table. Bobbie elected for peace. - -“I don’t suppose I shall have to wire to you much,” he said. “Nothing is -likely to turn up in your absence. What are you going to tell Diana?” - -Mr. Selsbury closed his eyes wearily. - -“Does it matter what I tell Diana?” - -A brave question. In his heart he knew that a story must be invented, -and a very plausible story. - -“I’m not a particularly nimble liar,” he said. “Think out something for -me.” - -Bobbie sniffed. - -“I am on my knees to you for the compliment,” he said, but irony was -wasted on Gordon. “Why not tell her you are going north for the -shooting?” - -“I dislike subterfuge,” Gordon deprecated with a wry face. “Why should I -tell her anything? When does shooting start?” - -“It has started. Go to Scotland: it is remote. You’re not likely to meet -anybody you know because you won’t be there.” - -Gordon thought the flippancy in bad taste. - -“It is repugnant to me--this necessity for invention,” he said. “Why -must I give an account of my comings and goings? It is preposterous! I -had better make my objective Aberdeen, I suppose?” - -Diana! Of all the absurd arguments that had been raised against the -Ostend trip, this was the most futile. The very mention of her name was -a spur. By the time he had reached Cheynel Gardens the trip was -definitely and irrevocably settled. - -He found a cable waiting for him at home. It was from his New York -agent, advising him that Mr. Tilmet would call upon him on the Friday, -and he realised with a shock that the to be, or not to be, of Ostend had -put out of his mind an important business deal. His agent had purchased -on his behalf the business of Tilmet and Voight, a none too prosperous -firm of marine insurance brokers, operating in one of those queerly -ancient offices on the Water Front. Mr. Tilmet had expressed a desire to -be paid the money, fifty thousand dollars, in London, which he would -visit _en route_ to the Continent. The documents had arrived by an -earlier mail, and Gordon had been advised that, the hour of Mr. Tilmet’s -arrival being uncertain, and his immediate departure for the more -attractive countries of Europe being very likely, Mr. Tilmet would call -at Cheynel Gardens to settle the deal. He glanced at the _Times_ -shipping list, noted that the _Mauretania_ had been signalled five -hundred miles west of the Lizard at twelve o’clock on the previous day, -and made a mental calculation. He must have the money in the house -to-morrow, though he objected emphatically to doing business except at -his office. Still, the circumstances were unusual and the bargain -excellent. He was not prepared to develop a grievance. - -Making a note on his memorandum pad, and a second note on the cover of -his cheque-book, he went up to dress. He was dining with Heloise, and -was carrying to her the news that he had made a decision in the matter -which she had thought, and which she had had every right to think, had -been settled beyond doubt. - -Coming down, he saw Diana on the stairs below. She also was in evening -dress, a wonderful creamy white. There were two ropes of pearls about -her neck; she wore no other jewellery. He followed her into The Study, -and, as she turned, stared. It was a transfigured Diana, something -ethereal, unearthly in her loveliness. - -“Why, Diana, you look awfully pretty,” he said. - -The generosity of his race compelled the statement. - -“Thank you,” she said indifferently. “I always look well in this colour. -You are dining out too, I see? Where are you going?” - -He hesitated. - -“I’m dining at the Ritz,” he said. “And you?” - -“I’m going to the Embassy. Mr. Collings is over here on business; he -called this afternoon. He’s my lawyer and a darling.” - -Gordon murmured something agreeable. Diana, at any rate, was off his -conscience for the night. And she certainly was lovely. - -Receptive to his unspoken admiration, she purred a little to herself, -then, to his wrath, undid the excellent impression that she had made by -unlocking a drawer in his sacred table. - -“I say, who gave you the key of that?” he asked indignantly. - -“I found one that fitted,” she said, without embarrassment. “The drawer -was empty except for a few queer German books, so I threw them out and -had the lock changed. I must have some place to keep my things.” - -He choked down his rising ire. - -“What things have you got?” he asked. - -“My jewel case.” - -“That ought to be in the safe.” - -“What is the combination?” she asked. - -“Telma,” he said, before he knew what he was saying. And not another -soul in the world knew that secret! - -Before his exasperation could find adequate expression, she had taken -from the drawer and laid on the desk a small black object, at the sight -of which Gordon recoiled. - -“You really ought not to keep firearms in the house, Diana,” he said -nervously. “If you go fooling with a thing like that, you might do -yourself an enormous amount of harm--in fact, kill yourself.” - -“Fiddlesticks!” said Diana. “I know that gun inside out. I could hit -that keyhole three times in the five”--she pointed to the door. - -“Well, don’t,” said he loudly. “Is it loaded?” - -“Naturally it’s loaded,” she replied, handling the weapon tenderly. -“There’s nothing in the breach, but the magazine is full. Shall I show -you how it works?” - -“No, put the beastly thing away.” - -Diana obeyed, locked the drawer and put the key in her handbag. - -“Telma--I must remember that,” she mused. - -“I’d like you to forget it. I really never intended telling you or -anybody else the combination of my safe. It isn’t right that you should -know. You might inadvertently----” - -“I never do things inadvertently,” said Diana. “I do them maliciously, -or sinfully, but I do them deliberately. You can drop me at the -Embassy,” she said, as Eleanor helped her on with her cloak. “You’re so -near to the Ritz that you could fall into the front porch. Unless you’re -going to pick up somebody?” She looked round at him suspiciously. - -As a matter of fact, Gordon did intend picking up somebody, and his -immediate objective was Buckingham Gate, where, in consequence of his -change of plans, he arrived five minutes late. The restraint which Mrs. -van Oynne showed was heroic. He was apologetic; under the influence of -the bright restaurant and soft music, explanatory. - -“Diana again!” she said petulantly. “I almost think I dislike that -Jane.” - -“Diana, you mean?” - -“I meant Diana,” said Heloise hurriedly. “Gordon, you don’t know how I’m -looking forward to Saturday.” - -“It occurred to me,” said he, “that Saturday is rather a busy day, and -the trains will be full with people going away for the week-end.” - -She drew a long sigh. - -“We need not be travelling together,” she said with resignation. “My, -how scared you are!” - -“I’m not scared,” protested the injured Gordon. “I’m scared for -you--yes. That is the only thought I have. By the way, I told Robert.” - -“That’s your brother? What did he say?” - -She was curious. - -“Well”--Gordon hesitated--“Robert is a man of affairs, with little or no -imagination, and at first he thought ...” he shrugged his -shoulders--“well, you know what a certain type of mind would think, my -dear Heloise.” - -“Couldn’t we go on Friday?” - -“That’s impossible. I’ve got a man coming to see me on Friday.” - -He explained at length Mr. Tilmet’s business, and the method he would -follow to discharge the debt. - -Throughout the meal she observed that he was a little _distrait_, and -explained his long silences by his dormant uneasiness about the -forthcoming trip. In this surmise she was wrong. Gordon was thinking of -Diana, and wondering how it was that he had never observed those factors -of colouring and feature which had been so emphatic that night. In a way -he had begun to tolerate Diana, and to find a grim amusement in his own -discomfiture. She had proved a wonderful manager, had reduced expenses -perceptibly; though her record of excellence as a housekeeper had been -somewhat spoiled by an incident which came to Gordon in a roundabout -way. She had entered the kitchen just after the butcher had left. One -glance at the joint had been sufficient, and, as the butcher boy was -gathering up his reins to drive off, a small shoulder of mutton came -hurtling through the kitchen window. The elevation was excellent, the -direction slightly faulty; the shoulder of mutton caught the butcher on -the side of the head and almost knocked him off his perch. Then Diana -appeared in the doorway. - -“Cold storage,” she said laconically. “Bring home-killed meat, or never -darken our doors again!” - -The driver went off in a condition bordering upon hysteria. Thereafter, -the meat supply showed a marked improvement. - -At first Gordon had been serious when this matter was reported to him -respectfully and inoffensively by Trenter, who drew a small commission -on all tradesmen’s bills and took a charitable view of their -shortcomings. But now, sitting vis-à-vis his pretty companion, the -matter occurred to him in a fresh light. - -“Why are you smiling?” asked Heloise. - -“Was I?” he said apologetically. “I hadn’t the slightest idea. I was -thinking of something--er--something that happened in my office.” - -Not in his wildest mood had he ever dreamt that he would lie about -Diana. - -Mr. Collings, that eminent lawyer, had many friends in London, including -important personages at Australia House. Diana went into the Embassy -expecting a tête-à-tête meal, and found herself greeted by stately and -elderly men and their stately and middle-aged wives. She was introduced -to an Under Secretary for the Colonies, and manœuvred herself to his -side when she learnt that he was one of the coming men in the -Government. Diana had suddenly decided that Gordon ought to have a -title. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -When she got home that night she found Gordon had arrived before her. He -was thoughtful, unusually subdued; most remarkable of all, was to be -seen, for he invariably went to bed as soon as he reached home after a -dinner or theatre, and never by any chance was he in a conversational -mood at such hours. - -“Good time?” he asked. - -“Very. I met the cream of the Colonial Office. It was thin but genuine -cream. Were you very late, and was she very annoyed?” - -Such a query, ordinarily, would be ignored. - -“Five minutes or so; the lady was naturally----” - -“Peeved?” she suggested. “And it was a lady, after all? Gordon, let me -see her?” - -He smiled. - -“She wouldn’t interest you, Diana. She is rather an intellectual.” - -Diana was not offended. - -“The only thing I approve about the Bolsheviks is that they killed off -the _intelligentsia_ first,” she said without heat. “I suppose they got -tired of seeing their plays and hearing about their spiritual insides. -What do you talk about--Bimetallism or Free Will?” - -He humoured her, being in a somewhat sympathetic mood. The strain of -holding friendship to lecture-hall level was beginning to tell. - -“Books and people,” he said lightly. “And you?” - -She threw her cloak over the back of a chair, pulled a stool to the fire -and sat down, warming her knees. Gordon, the soul of delicacy, strolled -out of the line of vision. - -“We talked about tradesmen and the superiority of Australian beef and -the difficulty of finding servants and Mrs. Carter-Corrillo’s fearful -indiscretion--she went to France with the third secretary of the -Montenegrin Embassy. She was only there three days, but, as Lady -Pennefort said, there are twenty-four hours in every day. Some women are -fools--and most men. This young man’s career is ruined, even though he -swears that their mutual interest in the gravel deposits of Abbeville -was the explanation of the visit. They are both keen on geology.” - -“And why shouldn’t that be the true explanation?” demanded Gordon -stoutly, his heart warming to the geological third secretary. “Why -should not men and women have mutual scientific interests?” - -“We’ll hear what the judge says,” she answered complacently. “Mr. -Carter-Corrillo is suing for a divorce.” - -“On what grounds--incompatibility of interest in strata?” sneered -Gordon. - -“Don’t be silly. Conventions are the by-laws of society. It is presumed -that, if you break a by-law, you are capable of breaking the law.” - -He stared, amazed at her cool inconsistency. - -“Here are you, living, unchaperoned, in the house of a bachelor----” - -“Cousins are different,” she said promptly. “Nobody suggests that the -third secretary is Mrs. Carter-Corrillo’s cousin. That would make a -difference. Besides, everybody knows how much you dislike me.” - -“I don’t dislike you,” after a moment’s thought; “but if you think I do, -why do you stay?” - -“I have a mission,” she said, with a finality of tone that brought the -subject out of discussion. - -Gordon broke the news of his impending departure after breakfast the -next morning. - -“I am thinking of running up to Scotland to have a shot at the birds,” -he said. He felt rather like a liar. - -“What have they been doing?” she asked, her grey-blue eyes wide. - -“Nothing. One shoots them at this season of the year. You have game laws -in Australia, I suppose?” - -“I don’t know. I have shot wallaby and dingo and rabbits and things, but -never birds. To Scotland? That’s an awful long way. Gordon, I shall be -worried about you. There was a railway accident in the newspapers this -morning. You’ll send me a wire?” - -“From every station,” he said sarcastically, and was ashamed of himself -when she thanked him so warmly. - -“I’m glad--that is my eccentricity, a horrid fear that people I like are -in railway accidents. Of course, I could always wire to the -stationmaster to enquire about you, or to your hotel.” - -Slowly it dawned upon Gordon Selsbury that in an unguarded and fatally -foolish moment he had enormously complicated a situation already far -from simple. To escape, to offer excuses, even to laugh off her anxiety, -simulated or real, was impossible. A solution came to him and was -instantly rejected. It came again because it was, in all the -circumstances, the only solution. But it was one that could only be -applied at the cost of his self-respect. Almost he cursed Heloise or -whoever was the fool who had suggested this mad excursion. - -Trenter was laying out his master’s clothes for dinner when Gordon -strolled into his dressing-room. - -“Um ... don’t go, Trenter. When did you have your holiday?” - -“First week in April, sir.” - -Gordon considered. - -“Do you know Scotland?” - -“Yes, sir; I’ve been with several house parties for the September -shooting.” - -“Good. The fact is, Trenter, I’m going away on a--a peculiar mission. It -is a secret even from my most intimate friends. There are reasons, very -excellent reasons with which I need not trouble you, and which you -certainly would not understand, why I should go secretly to one place -whilst I am supposed to be at another.” - -Trenter aimed wildly, but scored on the target at the first shot. - -“A lady, sir?” he ventured respectfully, meaning no harm--offering, in -fact, a tribute to the known chivalry of the Selsburys. - -“No!” - -There was reason enough for the large and angry blush that darkened -Gordon’s face. - -“No, of course not. Business. Nothing at all to do with a lady.” - -“I’m sorry, sir,” said Trenter, and was. - -“We won’t discuss my mission. What I want to say is this. Miss Ford, who -is rather of a nervous disposition, has asked me to send her wires at -intervals of the journey....” - -“And you want me to go to Scotland and send them,” said Trenter -brilliantly. Gordon had never respected his servant’s intelligence so -much as he did at that moment. - -“Exactly. It will save me a lot of worry. And,” he added mysteriously, -“if the wires fall into other hands, they will help deceive a Certain -Person!” - -Trenter nodded wisely. He couldn’t guess who the Certain Person was: -even Gordon did not know. But lying grew easier with practice--he had -grown reckless. - -“Not a word of this in the servants’ hall,” warned Gordon. - -The servitor smiled. Gordon had not seen him smile before. It was a -strange sight. - -“No, sir; I shall tell them that my aunt in Bristol is ill (which she -is) and that you’ve given me leave. How long do you want me to be away, -sir?” - -“A week,” said Gordon. - -Mr. Trenter went down to the servants’ hall importantly. - -“The old man’s given me a week’s holiday to see my aunt. I’m leaving -to-morrow.” - -Eleanor was constitutionally suspicious. - -“Bit sudden, isn’t it? He’s going away to-morrow too. You men are -devils! Us women never know what you’re up to.” - -Trenter smiled cryptically. It added to his self-confidence to be -suspected of devilish deeds. - -“Noos verrong,” he said, and added the information: “French.” - -“Is Miss Diana going?” asked the cook. - -“With me or him?” demanded Trenter insolently. “She’s not going with -_him_! And do I blame him? No! She’s no lady, that’s my firm opinion.” - -“Then keep it to yourself!” said Eleanor, shrill of voice. “I don’t want -you to say anything about Miss Diana!” - -“You women stick together.” Trenter could not but admire the trait. - -“And you men stick at nothing.” Eleanor’s sincerity gave sanction to -inconsequence. “She’s too good for him. I suppose you’re both off on -some gallivanting business? So far as I am concerned you’re welcome! -You’ve been an experience, and every girl ought to have experience--up -to a point. Your wife can have you.” - -“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you forty million times that I’m not -married!” hissed Trenter. “I had to be married because he wanted a -married man for a butler, and if I’d said I was single I should have -lost the job. That temper of yours, my girl, is going to be your ruin.” - -“Well, don’t talk disp--whatever the word is--about Miss Diana,” she -sulked. - -“I don’t trouble my head about her, because I don’t think there’s -anybody in the world like you, Eleanor,” he urged. - -She admitted later that there was much to be said for his point of -view. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -In the early days, when Trenter had known him, Mr. Superbus was a court -bailiff, a man who seized the property of unsuccessful litigants, who -served writs, attached furniture, and committed all those barbarous acts -peculiar to his office. But progression, the inexorable law of getting -on, the natural craving for success, brought Mr. Superbus from the -atmosphere of a dull county court to a small office in the Insurance -Trust Building, and the distinction of having his name painted upon the -glass panel of the door. He was officially styled “First Enquiry Clerk.” -The “detective” which was printed on the corner of his visiting card was -wholly unofficial, and his request to his superiors that a nickel badge -should be designed that he might wear on his waistcoat and display at -fitting moments when it was necessary to disclose his identity, was -refused as being “impracticable and undesirable.” - -The cinematograph is at once educative and inspirational. Mr. Superbus -spent most of his spare evenings in watching the pictures. Those he -liked best dealt with the careers of young, beautiful but penurious -girls, who were pursued by rich and remorseless villains, and were -rescued in the nick of time from a fate which is popularly supposed to -be worse than death, by a handsome young hero, with the assistance of a -stern-faced officer of the law, who smoked cigars, wore a derby hat, and -from time to time turned back his coat to display the badge of his -calling. A film which had no detective, and dealt merely with the love -of a millionaire’s beautiful young wife for his secretary, was -unpalatable to him, even though it featured his favourite artists and -showed, in the course of its telling, tremendous railway accidents, -landslides, riots and the enervating effects of cocaine. - -Before the open window of his parlour, Mr. Superbus sat in a state of -profound meditation. Though the day was chilly, he was in his -shirt-sleeves, for he was one of those hot-blooded men in whom the -variations of climate peculiar to his native land produced no effect. It -was an open secret that he was one of those hardy souls who swam in the -Serpentine every Christmas Day, preferably breaking the ice to get in, -and his portrait appeared with monotonous regularity every twenty-sixth -of December in all the better-class illustrated newspapers. - -His good lady came bustling in with a shiver. She restricted her own -bathing operations to the decent privacy of a four by seven bathroom. - -“You’ll catch your death of cold there, Julius,” she said. “Fancy -sitting there from morning till night doing nothing!” - -“I’m not doing nothing,” said Julius quietly. “I’m thinking.” - -“Well, that’s what I call doing nothing,” said Mrs. Superbus, bustling -round and laying the cloth. - -She had an extraordinary appreciation of her husband’s qualities, -admired him secretly, but felt that the smooth harmonies of matrimony -might well be disturbed if she committed the error of showing her -feelings. - -“It’s beyond me how you puzzle these things out,” she said. - -“It’s brains,” explained Julius. - -“You get such ideas,” she said in despair. “I wonder you don’t go on the -stage.” - -It was her conviction that the stage was the ultimate goal of all -genius; its greatest reward; its most natural line of development. - -“This Double Dan is certainly a bit of a puzzle, though I’ve worked out -bigger problems in my time, mother.” - -She nodded in agreement. - -“The way you mended the cistern last week beats me,” she said. “After -that I’ll believe anything. Who is this Double Dan?” - -“He’s a swindler,” said Mr. Superbus, “a parasite of society, a human -vampire--but I’ll get him!” - -“I’m surprised the police don’t go after him,” she said. - -He was naturally irritated, and his laughter lacked sincerity. - -“The police! No, mother, the man who’s going to get Double Dan has got -to be clever, he’s got to be cunning, he’s got to be artful.” - -“I don’t know anybody artfuller than you, Julius,” said his wife -graciously, and Mr. Superbus accepted the compliment as his right. - -He might speak disparagingly of the police, as he did; as all private -detectives, authors of mystery stories and such-like are in the habit of -doing. But his knowledge that Double Dan was in London, the hint that -had been whispered up from the underworld that Mr. Gordon Selsbury was -to be the new victim; these and a hundred other little pointers of -incalculable value came to him fourth-hand from Scotland Yard. After his -midday dinner he put on his coat and strolled to Cheynel Gardens. Gordon -was out, and he was received by Diana. - -“Why, of course, you’re Mr.----” - -“Superbus,” said Julius. - -“The Roman!” - -Mr. Superbus confessed to that distinction. He might have added “ultimus -Romanorum,” only he was unacquainted with the phrase. Instead he -remarked, a little pathetically: - -“There ain’t many of us left.” - -“I bet there ain’t,” said Diana. “Sit down and have some tea. You want -to see Mr. Selsbury, but he won’t be back for an hour.” - -“I did and I didn’t,” said Julius the obscure. “What I want to do is to -keep a certain eye on a certain fellow.” - -He did not particularise the eye, but Diana guessed that it might be -that which was nearest to her: it looked the less glassy of the two. In -the matter of the certain fellow she sought information. - -“Double Dan--I remember. Who is he, Mr. Superbus?” - -“Well, ma’am----” - -“Miss.” - -“You don’t look it,” he said gallantly, if vaguely. “This Double Dan is -a desperado, and is believed to emanate from the West.” - -“Do you mean West London?” - -“I mean America,” said Julius, “where most of the desperadoes come from. -And go to,” he added, with a recollection of certain past defaulters, -whose disappearance had been hampering to him as a bailiff of the court. - -She listened attentively while Mr. Superbus described the misdoings of -the impersonator. - -“There’s nothing this fellow can’t do, miss,” said Superbus -impressively. “He can make himself fat, he can make himself thin; he can -impersonate a tall man or a short man, an old man or a young man. By all -accounts he was an actor onthealls.” - -“Onthealls?” She wrinkled her brow, thinking for the moment that Mr. -Superbus had dug up one of those natty colloquialisms that enlivened -the Senate in those days when Cicero could always be depended upon to -pass a few bright, snappy remarks about the Tribune Clodius. - -“An actor onthealls,” repeated Mr. Superbus, astounded that he was -unintelligible. - -“Oh, I see!” a great light dawning upon her mind. “On the halls? You -mean the vaudeville stage?” - -“So they say,” said Mr. Superbus. “Anyway, he’s been too clever for the -regular police. It’s now up to them who have made a study of crime, so -to speak, to bring him to justice.” - -He looked cautiously round the apartment and lowered his voice. - -“By all accounts, Mr. Selsbury’s the next.” - -Diana sat bolt upright in her chair. - -“You means he’s to be the next person robbed?” - -Mr. Superbus nodded gravely. - -“From information received,” he said. - -“But does he know?” - -“I’ve dropped an ’int, miss,” said Julius. “But on the whole it’s better -that he didn’t know. A man gets jiggered, so to speak, if he knows a -crook is after him, and that hampers the officers of the law.” He shook -his head. “Many a good case have I lost that way.” - -“What do you mean exactly by impersonation?” asked Diana, troubled. “Do -you mean to say that, when Mr. Selsbury is out, somebody who looks very -much like him is liable to walk into this house and help himself to -anything that he can find?” - -“Cheques mostly, or money,” affirmed Julius. “He works big, this fellow. -Nothing small about him, you understand. You could leave your silver -around, and he wouldn’t touch so much as an egg-spoon. He’s one of the -big gang--I’ve had my eye on him for years.” - -“This is very alarming,” said Diana after a long silence. - -“It is alarming,” agreed Julius, “but at the same time, if you’ve got -the right kind of man around to protect you, a fellow who’s a bit sharp, -it’s not alarming. But he’s got to be clever, and he’s got to have -experience of what I might term the criminal classes, I should say.” - -“You mean yourself?” Diana smiled faintly, not in the mood to be amused. - -“I mean me,” said Julius. “If I was you, miss, I’d drop a hint to Mr. -Selsbury. Maybe he takes more notice of what his daughter says.” - -At parting he took her hand in his own large, purple paw, called her -“Miss Selsbury” and asked to be remembered to her father. When Gordon -came home, she told him of the visit. - -“Superbus, eh?” said Gordon good-naturedly. “He called for a tip. But -why, in the name of heaven, he should start in to alarm you, I don’t -know. I must speak to the Association about it.” - -“He didn’t alarm me at all,” said Diana, “except when he asked to be -remembered to my father, and said that you were more likely to be -influenced by your young and gentle daughter----” - -“Does he think I’m your father?” demanded Gordon indignantly. “That -fellow’s got a nerve! As for Double Dan, I shouldn’t think very much -about him if I were you, Diana. He certainly caught old Mendlesohn, but -then, old Mendlesohn is a philandering old fool. He allowed himself to -be trapped by the woman who works with the scoundrel and acts as his -decoy duck.” - -The mail boat was in, Gordon noted, glancing at his newspaper the next -morning. He had arranged to remain at home that day, and his accountant -called at the house with a carefully engrossed receipt form and the -office cheque-book. Gordon filled a blank for eleven thousand and a few -odd pounds. - -“I want fifty thousand dollars in gold bills; you’ll buy them at the -Bank of England. Bring them back here in a taxicab, Miller. You have -told the office that wires are to be telephoned to me? Good. I expect a -message from Mr. Tilmet.” - -The message did not come until long after the bills had been deposited -in The Study safe. - -It was from Paris, to the effect that Mr. Tilmet had landed at Cherbourg -and would be in London on the Sunday; he added that he would leave for -Holland that same night. Gordon, in his genteel way, consigned the -American to the devil. - -He saw Heloise that afternoon. She was a being exalted at the prospect -of the trip, and his last desperate appeal to her that it should be -cancelled was unmade. They were to meet at a quarter to eleven on the -platform at Victoria, and were to travel as strangers until they reached -Ostend. The passage looked likely to be a good one; the weather bureau -reported a smooth sea and light easterly winds. - -Trenter had packed his big carry-all, and had included one of the new -suits--that grey check with a little red in it--which had arrived -belatedly from the tailor. The case had been secretly transported to a -hotel in the neighbourhood of Victoria, where Gordon had to change. -Nothing remained to be done but to prepare the telegrams which Trenter -was to send. He could do this with a light heart, for it had occurred to -him that if, taking advantage of his absence, the criminal impersonator -should call (he regarded this as the least likely of any happening) the -wires would confound and expose him. He felt almost as if he were doing -a worthy deed. - -The first he marked in the corner “Euston,” and inscribed “Just leaving, -Gordon.” He wrote a number of “Good journey, all wells” for York, -Edinburgh and Inverness. - -Surprisingly, Diana came to him that day for some money. - -“I arranged the transfer of my money to the London branch of the Bank of -Australasia, but there has been some sort of hitch. I called to-day and -the transfer has not arrived. Save me from penury, Gordon--I’m a ruined -woman.” - -She displayed dramatically the empty inside of a notecase. Gordon felt a -queer satisfaction in signing a cheque for her, recovered a little of -the kind-fatherly feeling appropriate to their relationship. - -“And to think that, if you had really turned me out, I should have -starved!” taking the slip from his hand. “Gordon, behind a rugged and -unprepossessing exterior, you hide a heart of gold.” - -“I sometimes wish you were a little more serious,” he said in good -humour. - -“I’m always wishing that you weren’t,” she said. - -Gordon was temporarily deprived of the full use of The Study in the -afternoon. There could be no more remarkable proof of Diana’s dynamic -qualities than the arrival of post office linesmen to move the telephone -from the hall to Gordon’s room--and that within forty-eight hours of her -notifying the Postmaster General of her desires. Gordon demurred at -first. The telephone was an invasion of his privacy. Diana was flippant -and he was in no spirit for a fight. - -Bobbie was at dinner that night, and, when they were alone, asked her a -question that he had asked himself many times. - -“Why do you stick this kind of existence, Diana? You’ve heaps of money -and could be having a really good time instead of rushing round after -Gordon.” - -She looked up under her curling lashes. - -“Does Gordon want me here? Has he ever wanted me? No, sir! When I came I -left my baggage in the hall: I intended taking his advice about hotels -and things. I never had the slightest intention of stopping--till I saw -him and heard him, and read the panic he was in at the idea of my -remaining in the house, and heard him become paternal and -my-dear-little-girly. So I stayed. The day Gordon wants me to stay--I -go!” - -The atmosphere of the house was electric: Bobbie felt it, Diana was -conscious of an uneasiness that was not to be accounted for by the -errors of banking officials. Even in the servants’ hall hysteria made a -mild manifestation. Eleanor had a premonition which she called by -another name. - -“I’m sure something’s going to happen.” When she was nervous her voice -grew high-pitched. - -“Don’t be ridiculous.” Trenter’s voice lacked confidence. - -“I wish you wasn’t--weren’t going away,” she sobbed. “I’ve got the -creeps. That window man will do something. The moment I saw him I said -‘that man’s a villain,’ didn’t I, cook?” - -“You did. You said ‘I’m sure there’s something wrong about that man,’” -agreed cook. - -As for Gordon Selsbury, he went to bed at ten. At one o’clock he was -pacing his room. At three he went down to The Study and started the -percolator working. Whilst the coffee was in process of making, he -opened the safe and took out the fifty thousand dollars, counted them -and put them back. The safe looked very fragile, he thought. Once this -wretched trip was over he would attend to the matter. The house was not -difficult to burgle. The big, stained-glass window--an enterprising -craftsman with a penknife could get in.... - -In a corner of the room flush with the window was a small door, hidden -behind a curtain. This led to the courtyard and was never used. As to -its design, and what purpose it was intended to serve, only the builder -and original owner of the house might testify. His name was Gugglewaite, -he had been three times divorced, and was at the moment in heaven--or -his well-edited epitaph lied. - -Gordon went upstairs for his pass-key, opened the door and stepped out -into the “garden.” It was very dark and still, and the wet wind smelt -sweet and fresh. Across the yard was a door that gave to a small side -passage. The wall was high, but no obstacle to an active burglar. He -shivered and went in again to his coffee and a returning serenity -induced by the fire he had kindled and the comfort of his surroundings. - -He would have gladly given a thousand--ten thousand--to cancel his fool -adventure; to remain here with ... well, with Diana. He told himself -this with a certain defiance as though one half of a dual personality -were challenging the other. Diana was really a dear. He wished he had -been a little more loyal to her and had talked less about Dempsi ... a -boy and girl affair and perfectly understandable. On Dempsi, his -identity, his appearance, he mused till the light began to show in a -ghostly fashion behind the painted window. - -There was no thrill in the secrecy, the plotting, the wile within wile. -Gordon smelt the meanness of it, and sometimes he quavered. It made -matters a thousand times worse that Diana was so sweet about everything. - -It had occurred to him that he would have to depend upon her to deal -with Mr. Tilmet when he called. Nobody else could possibly cope with -that elusive gentleman. - -“Surely,” she said without hesitation. “Have you the receipt ready and -the final contract? It isn’t worth paper unless it has been drawn up by -an American notary. Auntie bought an oil well in Texas and she had to -find an American attorney before the contract could be made.” - -“And she was swindled, of course?” said Gordon. “All these oil -properties are swindles.” - -“She made seventy thousand dollars out of the deal,” said Diana. “Auntie -had an irresistible attraction for bargain money. The bills are in the -safe?” - -“With the contract and the receipt. Really, Diana, you’re almost a -business woman!” - -“Your patronage is offensive, but I feel sure that you mean well,” said -Diana without heat. “Let me see that money.” - -He opened the safe and she counted it, bill by bill, before she snapped -the door close and spun the handle. - -“Good,” she said. “I will have a spring clean whilst you are away. I -have sent for a man to clean the windows of The Study. They are in a -shocking state. And, Gordon, with Trenter and you away, I shall need -extra help. I will have a man and his wife here. There is an attic room -where they can sleep: is that in order?” - -Diana was brisk, business-like, imposingly capable. Gordon realised that -she was unconsciously ramming home her indispensability. - -Eleanor, coming in to put the room in order, found him in his -dressing-gown, asleep before the black ashes of the fire, and her squeal -of fear woke him. - -“Oh, sir, you gave me such a fright!” - -He rose stiffly, blinking at her. - -“Did I ...? I’m sorry, Eleanor. Will you send Trenter to me in my room?” - -A bad start to a very bad day’s business. He ached from head to foot, -until his bath gave him some bodily ease. - -“Eleanor says you were asleep before the study fire. When did you come -down, Gordon?” Diana asked at breakfast. - -“About three o’clock, I think. I remembered work that had to be done.” - -She was concerned. - -“Why don’t you go by the night train--you could sleep?” she suggested, -and he forced a smile. - -“I shall sleep all right,” he said with spurious gaiety. - -The talk went off in another direction, and then Bobbie came in for -final instructions. Gordon was unaccountably irritated by this act of -devotion to duty, and his “Good-morning” was like the crack of a whip. - -“After you have gone,” said Diana, “I shall ask Trenter to show me such -of your clothes as need go to the cleaners.” - -“Trenter is going before me,” he said hastily. “He’s catching a train to -Bristol. His aunt is seriously ill.” - -“What on earth’s the matter with you?” gasped Bobbie. - -Gordon turned, ready to be offensive, but it was not he at whom Bobbie -was staring. Diana’s face was ghastly; her eyes were wide with a terror -she could not conceal; her skin the colour of chalk. Gordon jumped up -and ran to her. - -“Whatever’s the matter?” he asked, in genuine alarm. - -“Nothing,” she said with a gasp. “Perhaps I’m feeling the parting. I -always go like this when my cousins go away!” - -“Have you had bad news?” - -Her letters were open on the table. She shook her head. - -“No; the butcher’s arithmetic is a little embrangled. Ever heard that -word before, Gordon? I guess you haven’t! I found it in _Tom Brown’s -School Days_. Bobbie, don’t stare, it’s very rude....” - -Under her covering hand was the letter she had been reading. - -Mr. Dempsi was very much alive: was in London at that moment. The -opening lines of his letter were significant. - - “My bride! I have come to claim you!” - -Dempsi always wrote like that. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -Ten minutes later, Bobbie walked into his brother’s room without -knocking, and interrupted what seemed to be a very confidential -interview. Trenter pocketed a sheaf of telegrams in haste, but not so -quickly that Bobbie did not see them. He made no comment until Mr. -Trenter, in his best suit and looking unusually spruce, had made a -hurried departure. - -“Trenter’s going down to see his sick aunt,” explained his master. - -“He looks like that,” said Bobbie. “The chrysanthemum in his buttonhole -will cheer her immensely. Is the faithful Trenter in the swindle too?” - -“I don’t know what you mean by ‘swindle,’” said Gordon loudly. “I wish I -hadn’t told you anything about it!” - -“You wouldn’t, only you wanted somebody to stand by you in case anything -went wrong. That is, anything but you.” - -Gordon glared at him. - -“I shall not go wrong, believe me!” - -“I don’t,” said Bobbie. And then, hastily: “At least, I do, but nobody -else would.” - -“You can’t understand these--it’s a hateful word, but there is no -better--affinities,” said Gordon, “these understandings and yearnings -for something which--which--well, somebody else can’t give you. Some -magic that draws a man’s confidence and kills all sense of time and -obligation.” - -Bobbie nodded wisely. - -“I know--a woman.” - -Gordon stood erect. - -“Bobbie,” he said awfully, “I tell you this is not an affair--at any -rate, it is different from other kinds of affairs.” - -“So are all other kinds of affairs,” said Bobbie. “That’s why the judges -have been working overtime. I dare say I _am_ cynical: I can afford to -be, I’m a bachelor. The lady has a husband?” - -“Heloise is married,” said Gordon gravely. - -“Heloise? I must remember that name. And Trenter, I presume, is going -into the country to post the necessary telegrams to give verisimilitude -to an otherwise unconvincing narrative. I hate quoting Gilbert at you, -but the situation is a little Gilbertian. What is she like?” - -Gordon was not inclined to particularise. - -“Of course, if you’re going to make trouble----” - -“Don’t be an ass,” said Bobbie. “I’m not going to give you away because, -for some extraordinary reason, I believe you.” - -A knock at the door: it was Eleanor. - -“Will you see Mr. Superbus?” she said. - -“No,” snapped Gordon. “Get me a cab.” - -“Who’s Mr. Superbus?” - -“He’s the detective I told you about; the man that is watching for -Double Dan.” - -Bobbie whistled: it was an exasperating trick of his. - -“Double Dan? By Jove! I didn’t think of him. Gordon, you’re taking a -risk. Is there any money in the house?” - -“I told you.” - -“You keep telling me you’ve told me things. I think your mind is -wandering.” - -“There’s fifty thousand dollars in the safe. Diana’s looking after it. -The combination word is ‘Telma’--I told her, and I might as well tell -you. It is for Tilmet, who’s calling on Sunday, but Diana will look -after that.” - -“Double Dan,” repeated Bobbie softly. “And you’re the very bird he could -impersonate to the life! Sometimes I do it myself unconsciously. A -little pomp, a little strut, a little preciousness of speech----” - -Gordon waved him out of the room. He had reached the limit of his -patience. - -Diana was out when he came down, and he was not sorry. Also, the -telephone receiver was on the table; he replaced it in the hook. - -“Where is Miss Ford?” he asked. - -“Miss Ford had to go out. She asked me to say good-bye to you, sir,” -said Eleanor. “Will you see Mr. Superbus?” - -“No, I will not see Mr. Superbus. Tell him--well, tell him anything you -like. I’ve got a train to catch.” - -He was gone in such a hurry that Bobbie had not time to get the -information he had come to procure--Gordon had not told him the address -to which he was to wire. There was time to go after him, but his -immediate objective was unknown. It was obviously too early for the -train, and Bobbie had such a sense of delicacy that he would not take -the risk of a chance meeting with the fascinating Mrs. van Oynne. He sat -down, waiting for Diana’s return, and puzzling over the change which a -letter had wrought in her. That it was a letter, he knew. Sharper of eye -than his brother, he had noticed the closely written page beneath her -hand. Diana had her secrets too. - -As for Gordon, he was a fool, an utter, hopeless, dithering maniac! -Bobbie got up and walked across to the safe, hesitated a moment, then -manipulated the dial and pulled the door open. - -Except for a receipt form and a four page contract, the safe was empty. -Of money there was none! - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -It was half an hour before Diana came back, and she still showed the -effects of the shock she had received at breakfast time. - -“Hullo, Bobbie!” She glanced at his face. “What is the matter?” - -“Diana”--he spoke slowly--“you’re in some kind of trouble.” - -“Some kind!” She flung her hat recklessly on the table. “Every kind, my -dear child!” - -He did not smile. - -“Gordon told me that he had left fifty thousand dollars in the safe to -pay an American who’s calling on Sunday. He gave me the combination.” - -She stood before him, her hands behind her. - -“Well?” - -“The money is not there.” - -A little pause. - -“And do you know why?” she asked. - -“I don’t know. I’ve been worried to death. He didn’t take it?” - -She shook her head. - -“No, I took it,” she said. “Bobbie, Dempsi is alive!” - -“Alive? Dempsi? Impossible!” - -She nodded many times. - -“He is alive! I’ve had a letter from him this morning--thirteen -pages--you could have used any one of them as a mustard leaf. I’m -scared!” - -“But I thought he was lost in the bush?” said Bobbie. - -She smiled painfully and dropped into the chair in which Gordon had -spent the night. - -“He was found in the bush,” she said. “He had fever or something and was -discovered by the Jackies. They took him to their village. Bobbie, -Dempsi is half Irish and half Italian. Which half is most mad? Because -that’s the half that wrote.” - -Bobbie considered for a long time. - -“He knows you’re not married?” - -She shook her head. - -“What?” - -“No,” said Diana calmly. “We talked on the telephone just after you left -the room, and his first words were: ‘Are you single? We’ll be married -to-morrow. If you’re married, you’ll be a widow to-night!’ I knew at -once that it was Dempsi.” - -“What did you say?” he asked, awe-stricken. - -“I told him I was married,” she said, with such coolness that he was -inarticulate. “I couldn’t very well explain why I was here if I wasn’t -married, could I? Then he got so violent that I told him I was a widow. -Bobbie, isn’t lying easy?” - -Bobbie could say nothing. - -“Then he sprang another one on me, and I told him that I was living with -my Uncle Isaac--I used to have an Uncle Isaac,” she said in -self-defence. “He was a sort of an adopted uncle. He died of delirium -tremens. All our family have done something out of the common. I -couldn’t say I was living alone in this big house, and anyhow, Gordon is -away. It’s wonderful luck, his going.” - -Bobbie paced the floor in a state of supreme agitation. - -“What about the money?” he asked. - -“I owed it to him. Before he ran away into the bush we had a terrible -scene. He wanted me to elope with him, and when I wouldn’t, he said he -would commit suicide. He was like a madman; he cried over me, he kissed -my feet, and then went off to lose himself in the bush. He didn’t even -do that properly.” - -“And the money?” - -“He gave it to me, or the cat or somebody. Anyway, I had it. Dempsi -hadn’t a relation in the world, and I just banked the money with my -own.” She bit her lip. “I intended putting up such a beautiful monument -to him,” she added thoughtfully. - -Bobbie drew a sigh of relief. - -“Well, my dear girl, as you’ve obviously sent him the money, the worst -is over. You can replace it: the banks do not close till twelve.” - -“How am I to replace it?” she asked scornfully. “I’ve no money in my own -bank, except a few pounds that I opened the account with when I came to -London. I took the fifty thousand dollars and put eight thousand pounds -to my own account. Here’s the rest.” She drew out a wad of bills and -handed them to him. - -Bobbie looked at her aghast. - -“But this Tilmet, this American--you’ve got to find the money for him?” - -“I thought you’d get it for me,” she said, her big eyes fixed pleadingly -on him. - -He looked at his watch. - -“It’ll want some doing. You can’t raise eight thousand in real money in -two hours. Is this money of Gordon’s in your bank?” - -She nodded. - -“I’m sending Dempsi a cheque by special messenger. He’s living in a -little hotel in the Edgware Road.” - -“He mentioned the money then?” - -“He made a casual reference,” she said, “which my conscience probably -magnified into a demand. Phew!” She fanned herself with her hand. - -Bobbie locked away the remaining ten thousand dollars. - -“I’ll see what I can do. May I telephone?” - -She nodded. - -“You may do anything you please except ask me to marry Dempsi,” she said -wearily. - -His first call was to his bank, and the conversation was not -encouraging. Bobbie had just paid from his account heavy bills, and he -was slightly overdrawn. To the suggestion that the overdraft should be -increased, the manager turned an unsympathetic ear. And then, at the end -of the third call, when Bobbie was in a condition of frenzy, Eleanor -came in with a telegram, and the girl opened it quickly. - -“Saved!” she whooped. - -“What is it?” said Bobbie, snatching the form from her hand. - -It was dated Paris and was from the American’s secretary. - - “Feared Mr. Tilmet has contracted measles. Will not be able to - arrive in London for another fortnight.” - -“Thank God for measles!” wailed Diana. - -Bobbie wiped his streaming forehead. - -“I’ve a good mind to take the remainder of this money away,” he said, “I -don’t like it being in the house.” - -For answer, she opened the drawer of the desk and took out the -black-muzzled Browning. - -“Burglars are my specialty,” she said. - -“Would you mind putting that lethal weapon away?” said Bobbie. “What a -bloodthirsty little devil you are!” - -“I am,” said Diana. “There’s murder in my bones at this particular -moment. Yes, Eleanor?” - -“Are you going to see Mr. Superbus?” - -“I didn’t know he was here. Ask him to come in, will you?” - -Mr. Superbus came, in his stately, senatorial fashion, and was -introduced to Bobbie. It was obvious he sought a very private interview -indeed, but Diana explained in what relationship Bobbie stood. - -“I’m sorry to have missed Mr. Selsbury,” said Julius. “Information -having come to me last night through my secret agent about a certain -party.” - -“You mean Double Dan?” - -Diana reacted instantly. For the moment she hadn’t a care in the world. - -“It’s no laughing matter, miss.” Mr. Superbus shook his head, and -invited, with a wave of the hand, bent forward to see his feet and sat -down slowly. “No, it isn’t any laughing matter, ma’am--miss. If he -walked in at that door”--he pointed--“made up for the part, you’d think -it was your father.” - -Diana raised a protesting hand. - -“May I explain, in passing, that Mr. Selsbury is not my father?” - -Julius graciously indicated that she had his permission. - -“Dan is wonderful! I was telling my good lady only this morning that, if -she sees a fellow looking like me trying to get into the house when I’m -supposed to be away, she must make him take his shirt off--I’ve got a -lucky mole on my shoulder, miss--ma’am--miss. Why moles are supposed to -be lucky I’ve never discovered.” - -Diana turned to Bobbie. - -“This is rather alarming.” - -“Oh, I don’t know,” said Bobbie. “Lots of people have moles.” - -“Don’t be absurd. I mean Double Dan.” - -“But why should he come here?” asked Bobbie, well aware that the -contents of the safe, such as they were, justified a visit. But it was -Mr. Superbus who answered. - -“That’s what they all say, but there’s always a reason, miss. My good -lady said to me ‘Why should he come here?’ but I pointed out -that--what’s in that safe? Any valuables there?” He pointed to the wall. - -“Nothing very much,” said Diana hastily. “Tell us some more about this -person, Mr. Superbus.” - -Mr. Superbus smiled to himself. - -“I’m the greatest living authority on him,” he said modestly, “that’s -what I am! He’s a very plausible fellow, and works with a girl. Whether -or not--well, let’s say it’s his wife. She wangles the information out -of the fellow that Dan is going to rob. Do you see?” - -Diana nodded. - -“I see. She’s a sort of decoy who gets to know the victim.” - -“Know him! Well, I should say she did, miss--it would be much easier to -tell you everything if you was ma’am.” - -“Well, imagine I am,” smiled Diana. “She gets to know him very well?” - -Mr. Superbus nodded. - -“I should say so! She starts a hand-holding friendship, if I might -describe it.” - -“But surely not always?” interrupted Bobbie. “She didn’t catch old -Mendlesohn that way? He must be sixty-five!” - -Mr. Superbus was amused. - -“Sixty-five! Why, of course she did! The sixty-fivers are the worst. -They’re easy. Mind you, there’s nothing more than a high-class -friendship in it, if I may use the word. The people she likes to get -hold of are the thinkers--she’s got a classy line of language. You know -the sort of stuff that highbrows talk.” - -“A soul, in fact?” smiled Diana. “Does she represent herself as being -married?” - -He nodded. - -“Yes, there’s always a husband in the background. Sometimes he lives -abroad, sometimes he’s in a lunatic asylum, but he’s mostly out of the -way.” - -Bobbie staggered and caught hold of a chair for support. Happily, Diana -did not notice his wan excitement. - -“And then what happens?” she asked, a little nervous as to whether Mr. -Superbus was still confounding “miss” with “ma’am.” - -“Well, she lures him away,” said Mr. Superbus. “There’s no other word -for it. She _lures_ him away. And whilst they’re away, up comes Double -Dan with all the dear departed’s little tricks--his voice, his funny -little ways, which the girl has been studying and passing on to Dan. You -understand, miss? I’ve collected all this information myself. It’s a -coop with me. ‘Coop’ is French for ‘cop.’” - -“And the girl?” asked Diana. - -“Oh, she gets away too--pretends her husband’s come back unexpectedly -from foreign parts; but she does it so that the fellow can’t return -home. Usually he’s told people that he’s going away for a fortnight or -so, and naturally, he doesn’t want to come back.” - -“How perfectly disgusting!” said Diana with a wry face. - -“That’s what I say,” said Mr. Superbus earnestly. “Having allowed a -gentleman to go so far----” - -“At any rate, we need not have any fear about Mr. Selsbury,” said Diana -with a quiet smile. - -Evidently Mr. Superbus _had_ fears about Mr. Selsbury. He looked around -in his mysterious way, and then: - -“He’s gone out of town, hasn’t he?” - -Diana nodded. - -“For any length of time?” - -“For a week,” said Diana. - -Superbus rubbed his chin. - -“It’s rather a delicate matter, but I am a family man, ma’am--miss. Has -he gone away on business--no chance of a----?” - -“Of a what?” - -“Of a lure?” - -Diana laughed softly. - -“Absolutely no chance.” Diana was thinking quickly. “What sort of a -woman would this be--his confederate, I mean--pretty?” - -“Handsome is as handsome does,” replied Julius. - -“Are you going, Bobbie?” - -Bobbie was following the detective from the room. - -“Yes, I’ve got to see a man,” he said a little incoherently. - -There was still time to catch Gordon, and he was resolved to take the -risk. - -With Bobbie out of the way, the girl rang the bell, and, when Eleanor -came, she found her mistress at the writing-table, blotting an envelope. - -“Put your hat on, Eleanor, and deliver this letter to the Marble Arch -Hotel. Take a taxi.” - -“Yes, madam,” said Eleanor in surprise. - -“Ask to see Mr. Dempsi.” - -Diana made an attempt to be unconcerned, and failed dismally. - -“If he kisses the letter, or anything like that--you mustn’t be -surprised. He is very impulsive: he might even kiss you,” she added. - -Eleanor stiffened. - -“Indeed, miss?” - -“He won’t mean anything by it.” Diana was tremulously diplomatic. “He -always kisses people when he sees them. I--I shouldn’t be surprised if -he kissed me when he calls--we’re old friends, and people do that sort -of thing in--in Australia.” - -“Indeed, madam?” said Eleanor, her interest in the British Empire -awakened. - -“I’m afraid Mr. Selsbury wouldn’t understand,” Diana went on lightly. -“Men are rather narrow. If you told him----” - -“I should never dream of telling Mr. Selsbury, madam,” said Eleanor -indignantly. - -The girl came in dressed before she went. - -“I beg your pardon, Miss Ford, but it has just occurred to me,” she said -hesitantly. “If this foreign gentleman should kiss me, might I be bold -enough to ask you not to mention it to Trenter?” - -“You may rely on me, Eleanor,” said Diana firmly. “We women must stand -together.” - -She watched the girl through the window till she was out of sight, then -flopped back in her chair. The papers stood in a rack at her hand, -unopened, unread. She reached out and found one, but there was no drama -that could quite over-shadow that which was being played out in her -heart. - -She heard a tap and looked round. It was not at the door; it seemed to -be at the stained-glass window. There was a little window square, level -with the ledge, which could be opened and closed as a casement, and -against this she saw the shadow of a head, and, with her heart thumping -wildly, walked across the room. - -“Who is there?” she asked. - -Then came a voice that chilled her to the marrow. - -“Don’t you know me, beloved?” - -“Mr. Dempsi!” she gasped. “You mustn’t come here, really you mustn’t! -My--my Uncle Isaac isn’t at home, and I can’t receive you.” - -With an effort of will she jerked open the window and looked down upon a -bearded face and eyes that shone. A wide-brimmed sombrero at the back of -his head; hanging from his shoulders, a long black cape. He might have -stepped from an opera. - -“I--I can’t see you now, really I can’t! Won’t you call next Wednesday -week?” - -So that was Dempsi! She remembered dimly some resemblance to the -bare-faced boy she had known. Perhaps that wild glitter of eye, that -furious gesticulation. - -“Diana,” he breathed, “I’ve come back from the grave to claim you!” - -“Yes, yes, but not now,” she said, in an agony of apprehension. “Go back -to your grave till three o’clock. I’ll see you then.” - -The shadow disappeared. How had he got there? Curiosity. Opening the -window an eighth of an inch, she saw him scaling the wall with an -agility which would have been admirable in any other conditions. Slowly -she walked up the stairs to her room, closed and locked the door behind -her, and sat down heavily on her bed. - -Once upon a time her aunt had carefully loaded a shot-gun designed for -this same Dempsi. Tears came into her eyes. - -“Dear auntie!” she half-sobbed. “You understood men so well!” - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -Gordon hesitated a little time before the mirror in his bedroom at the -hotel, the razor poised in his hand, his cheeks crisp with lather. There -is no more solemn act undertaken by man than destruction of such facial -landmarks (if the term be allowed) as are represented by cultivated -hair. There is something so irrevocable, so tremendous in -self-destruction of whiskers, that it is amazing so few great poets have -utilised the theme. - -Setting his jaw, Gordon attacked with a firm hand, the bright blade -flashed in the pale sunlight ... the deed was done. Rubbing his face -clean of lather, he gazed in surprise at the result. His appearance was -wholly changed. It would not be extravagant to describe it as improved. -Those two flickers of the razor had made him ten years younger. - -“Boyish!” exclaimed Gordon, neither in despair nor pleasure, yet with -something of both emotions. - -Until then he had not seen the suit, that fashionable grey check with a -little red in it. His first impression of the pattern had mellowed with -time.... - -“My God!” breathed Gordon. - -He was not a profane man. Once Diana had wrung from him such an -expression, but Diana and her startling point of view was the mildest of -provocation compared with the horror that lay unfolded on the bed. - -As a length of cloth it had called for attention. It was humanly -impossible to pass it by without some such comment as “That is rather -unusual.” But in the piece it had dignity; there was a suggestion of -weavers’ genius and ingenuity. - -As a suit, embellished with a saucy waist, and with buttons that were in -themselves a quiet smile.... Gordon felt a trickle of something at his -temples and requisitioned his handkerchief. He could not possibly wear -this. The alternative, for a short sea voyage, was a black morning coat -and top hat--equally impossible. - -Time was flying. He put on the trousers. They did not look so bad ... he -dressed. - -Standing before the long glass in the wardrobe, he looked and wondered. -One thing was certain: not his dearest friend would recognise him--and -his overcoat would hide much. The reflection of this new Gordon -Selsbury fascinated him. - -“How do you do?” he asked politely. - -The figure in the mirror bowed gravely. He was a perfect stranger to -Gordon, a young bookmaker, Gordon thought, and was growing interested -when he realised with a shock that it was himself. Packing hastily, he -rang the bell three times for the valet. If you rang twice the porter -came, once, the chambermaid. So he rang three times. The chambermaid -appeared. Happily the hotel is a house of call. Guests come overnight -and leave in the morning. Nobody recognises anybody except under the -urgent promptings of lawyers’ clerks, supported by the visitors’ book. -Ten per cent of the staff was permanently giving evidence at the law -courts. - -“The valet,” said Gordon and, when that individual appeared, gave -instructions regarding the grip containing his discarded suit and -hat-box. It occurred to him at that moment that one does not journey to -Scotland in a top hat, and he was rather glad that Diana had been out -when he left. - -“I want these things to be kept in the hotel cloak-room,” said Gordon. -“I will be back next Friday night and collect them.” - -Now the valet knew him; had seen him, not at the hotel, but at a very -select club in Pall Mall where the man had been a waiter before the -craze for improvement had driven him to the brushing of odd people’s -odder clothing. - -“Excuse me, sir, you’re Mr. Selsbury, aren’t you?” - -Gordon went red. - -“Yes, I am Mr. Selsbury,” he said with a touch of hauteur. His signature -in the visitors’ book was unintelligible. The reception clerk thought it -was Silsburg. - -“I don’t think I should leave your bag in the hotel, sir,” said the -valet gravely. - -Something of authority upon the ritual of adventure, he spoke with the -best of intentions. - -“Next Friday particularly we’ve got a big dinner here--to one of the -Colonial Premiers. The hotel will be full of people--you don’t want to -meet anybody you know?” - -The assumption that he was privy to the clandestine character of -Gordon’s movements made the visitor incapable of protest. - -“Tell me the train you’re coming by; I’ll meet you at the station with -the grip--I’ll put it straight away into the railway parcels office,” -said the valet gently, almost tenderly. - -Gordon could think of no improvement on this method; at the same time, -the valet must be under no misapprehension. - -“Thank you--er----” - -“Balding--I used to be a waiter at the Junior University Club, sir.” - -“Yes, of course. I think your idea is an excellent one. The fact is, I’m -leaving London on a ... mission, and I have to be very careful ... -thousands of pounds are involved.” - -“I see, sir.” - -Balding was so serious as to be almost plaintive. He had met gentlemen -at the hotel in similar circumstances, only _they_ had said that they -were in the secret service. - -“Thank you, sir ... very kind of you, I’m sure.” - -Balding slipped the note into his waistcoat pocket indifferently. - -“I’ll take this now, sir.” He lifted the grip from the bed. “Will you be -coming by the first or the second continental on Friday? Ostend -four-thirty, Paris eight-thirty.” - -“Four-thirty,” said Gordon. - -The die was cast. He gathered the second and smaller grip, paid his bill -at the desk and went out. It was chiming the quarter before eleven when -he entered Victoria Station; the train left at twelve. There was no need -to rush for seats. He had his Pullman reservation in his pocket. Happily -the day was raw, the sun and rain alternately, blustering wind all the -time. He could turn up the collar of his greatcoat. On the indicator -board he read: - - “Wind N. N. W. Sea moderate to rough. Visibility good.” - -He was glad, at any rate, that the visibility was good. - -And then he looked around for Heloise. They had arranged to meet for the -briefest space of time. - -At ten minutes to eleven, he grew restive, was on the point of picking -up his valise, when he saw her hurrying toward him, glancing furtively -behind. And there was something in her face that made his breath come a -little more quickly. - -“Follow me into the waiting-room!” - -She had passed him with this muttered message. Like a man in a dream, -Gordon picked up his bag and followed. The big waiting-hall was nearly -empty, and to its emptiest corner she led him. - -“Gordon, a dreadful thing has happened.” Her agitation communicated -itself to his unquiet bosom. “My husband has returned unexpectedly from -Kongo. He is following me ... he is mad--mad! Oh, Gordon, what have I -done!” - -He did not swoon; rather, he experienced all the sensations without -losing consciousness. - -“He swears I have transferred my affections, and says he will never rest -until he stretches the man dead at my feet. He said he would do dreadful -things ... he is a great admirer of Peter the Great.” - -“Is he?” said Gordon. It seemed a futile question to ask, but he could -think of nothing else. And he was not a little bit interested in Mr. van -Oynne’s historical leanings. - -“Gordon, you must go on to Ostend and wait for me,” she said rapidly. “I -will come as soon as possible ... oh, my dear, you don’t _know_ how I’m -feeling!” - -Gordon was so immensely absorbed in his own feelings that he made no -effort of imagination. - -“Didn’t you tell him that our ... our friendship was just ... -spiritual?” he asked. - -Her smile was faint and sad and shadowy. A ghost who had overheard a -good one in a smoking-room might have laughed as hilariously. - -“My dear ... who _would_ believe that? Now hurry, I must go.” - -Her little hand trembled for a second on his arm and she was gone. - -He picked up his bag, it was curiously heavy, and followed her into the -station. She was nowhere in sight. A porter stretched a suggestive hand -toward his baggage. - -“Continental train, sir ... have you got a seat?” - -Gordon looked up at the clock. It wanted five minutes of eleven. - -“Eleven-five the boat train, sir,” said the porter. - -“Eleven-five? I thought it was eleven,” said Gordon numbly. - -“There’s plenty of time, sir.” - -Still Gordon stood, motionless. For some extraordinary reason his mind -had refused to function; he was wholly incapable of decision or -movement. The engine of his faculties had gone cold and refused to -start. - -“Get me a cab, please.” - -The mechanism of the request saved him. - -“Yes, sir.” - -The bag was taken from his unresisting hand. He followed the porter to -the busy courtyard, pathetic in his helplessness. - -“Where shall I tell him to go, sir?” - -The porter stood invitingly, the cab door in his hand, a friendly smile -on his face. He had not yet been tipped. - -“Scotland,” said Gordon hollowly. - -“Scotland--you mean Scotland Yard?” - -This touched the spring: all the wheels in Mr. Selsbury’s mind began -revolving at once. - -“No, no--to the Grovely Hotel. Thank you very much.” - -The gratuity that Gordon crushed into the outstretched hand was -munificent, princely. One glance at its value and the porter staggered -against the door, closed it with a strangled “Grovely!” and the cab -rattled out of the station precincts. - -At that moment Bobbie Selsbury was engaged in a frenzied seat-to-seat -search for his erring brother. - -Gordon was cooler now, though not out of danger. He could think: he -could also for the moment inhibit thought. A jealous and revengeful -husband, probably armed, certainly homicidal, and a student of Peter the -Great and his methods, could not be wholly inhibited. Gordon wondered -whether in his library he had a really frank and unexpurgated history of -Peter. - -The hotel linkman opened the door of the cab, professionally pleased at -his return. - -“Keep the cab,” warned Gordon. He was by no means certain that he was -capable, unaided, of calling another. - -At the desk of the reception clerk he recovered his key and the right to -its employment, and carrying his bag to his room, rang the bell three -times for the valet. The porter answered him, but not by mischance, as -was proved. - -“Balding is off duty, sir,” he explained. “He goes off at eleven on -Saturdays.” - -“When will he be back?” - -“On Monday, sir. We have a whole day every second week. Is there -anything I can get you, sir?” - -Gordon shook his head. He only wanted his bag and his lost -respectability. Removing his overcoat, he looked at himself in the -glass. - -“That isn’t me,” he said brokenly. - -His appearance had changed, even in the short space of time elapsing -between this and his last inspection. - -The type was hideously familiar. He had seen it once in a vulgar film -where everybody chased everybody else. He remembered that the heroine -wore white stockings and black boots. - -There were two alternatives. He might remain a prisoner in that room -until Balding returned from his holiday; he could go home, get into the -house unobserved and change. He had many black-tailed coats, batteries -of silk hats, forests of quiet, grey-striped trousers. This idea was -more attractive. Diana would lunch at one o’clock; the dining-room was -across the hall from The Study. It would be a simple matter to slip -upstairs, change and come down to meet the astonished eyes of Diana. How -surprised she would be, and how amusing and unbending he would be! - -“Didn’t expect to see me, eh? Well, the fact is, I had an important -cablegram--just as I was getting into the train. My sidewhiskers? Yes, I -took them off as a little surprise for you. Rather an improvement, don’t -you think?” - -His heart warmed to the plan, and there was a glow in the thought that -the desire of the morning, that he should sleep in his own bed that -night, would be gratified. And there was the companionship of Diana, -hitherto an unconsidered attraction. Diana grew on him: he admitted this -to himself. If Heloise did go after him to Ostend, that would be -unfortunate. He hated the idea of giving her a journey for nothing. But -she would not leave for a day or two, and he would find means of -communicating with her.... - -He shuddered; for at the back of the vision of Heloise, stood the large, -brutal husband who was mad, mad. - -There were two hours to wait before he could put his plan into -operation. He telephoned from his bedroom to a bookseller’s in the -Buckingham Palace Road. - -“Have you a good life of Peter the Great?” he asked. - -They had two. He ordered them to be sent to him immediately. He was -rather amused with himself. - -He was less amused when he heard of the fate of one who had aspired to -the affections of Catherine, and whose head had been placed into a -large glass jar and displayed in Catherine’s boudoir to remind her that -husbands have their feelings. There was another gentleman who loved -Catherine, and him Peter had hanged on a high gibbet, under which he -promenaded arm in arm with Catherine. The arm and arm was a domestic -touch not lost upon Gordon. On the whole, he decided thoughtfully, a -profound admiration for Peter’s character would have no softening -tendency upon any man, especially a man who was mad, mad. - -He put away his book, drew on his overcoat, and, passing down in the -elevator, found his cab still waiting, the meter bloated with charges. -He had forgotten all about the cab. - -At the corner of the street he paid the man and walked rapidly into -Cheynel Gardens, his nose showing above the collar of his overcoat. -Happily, the street was empty. He almost ran when he reached the -familiar façade of his house, turned into the side passage, and, with a -trembling hand, fitted the key into the lock of the back gate. Suppose -it were bolted? The horrid doubt was no sooner in his mind than it was -dispelled. The key turned easily, and he found himself looking up at the -familiar window of his study. - -Tiptoeing to the little door, he listened. There was no sound, and, with -minute care to avoid making the slightest noise, he pushed his pass-key -slowly in the lock, and pushed the door open a fraction of an inch. Not -a sound. He opened it a little further, slipped behind the curtain which -hid the door, and closed it behind him. - -The room was empty, the two doors into the hall ajar. He could hear the -solemn ticking of the grandfather clock on the staircase. - -His first step, he had decided, must be to get into touch with Bobbie. -Listening at the hall door, he heard the click of steel on china--Diana -was at lunch, as he had expected. He closed first the baize, and then -the inner door softly, shot a bolt and tiptoed across the room. Bless -Diana for bringing the telephone into The Study! - -Bobbie’s office responded. A late leaving clerk had heard the ring of -the ’phone and came back to answer. - -“No, sir, Mr. Selsbury is not in to-day.” - -Gordon rang off without disclosing his identity, and tried Bobbie’s -lodgings in Half Moon Street, with no better success. He was wasting -valuable time, he realised, and Bobbie could wait. He put on the -receiver and stood up, stretching himself, with an easy, happy, -home-coming smile. Yes, Diana would be surprised. - -He crossed the room to the hall. His hand was on the handle when, -glancing round, he saw the curtain which hid the door into the courtyard -move and billow. He had left the door open, he thought, and was on the -point of returning to close it, when a hand came round the edge of the -curtain, and he stood, frozen to the spot. Again the draperies moved, -and a woman came into view. It was Heloise! - -Gordon did not believe the evidence of his eyes. She was some vision -conjured up by an overheated brain, a symptom of disordered nerves. - -“You are not real,” he said dully. “Avaunt!” - -“Gordon!” - -The outstretched hands, the plea in her eyes. Gordon Selsbury stood with -his back to the door. - -“How did you come here?” he croaked. - -“Through the garden gate--the way you came.... I followed you. Gordon, -he is furious! You must protect me.” - -He could only stare at her owlishly. - -“You mean--Peter?” he nodded. - -“Peter? No, my husband, Claude. He knows everything!” dramatically. - -“Is he ... an editor?” - -He was talking foolishly: nobody knew that better than Gordon; but the -works were beginning to slow down again. And then she came to him and -dropped both her hands on his arm. - -“You want me to stay here, don’t you? You won’t turn me out ...? He -followed me, but I slipped him.” - -“Stay here?” Gordon hardly recognised his own voice. “Are you mad?” - -She looked at him suspiciously. - -“Are you married?” - -“No.” And then a flashing inspiration. “Yes.” - -“Yes-no,” she said impatiently. “What are you--divorced?” - -“No. You see how absurd it is, Heloise.” - -“You are married to Diana.” She pointed an accusing finger. - -Gordon could only nod idiotically. - -“You really must go,” he squeaked. “This may mean ruin for me!” - -Her lips curled as she drew back, hands on hips. - -“Do I get any of that ruin?” she demanded. - -“You must go back to your husband.” His brain was alert now. “Tell him -you have made a mistake----” - -“He pretty well guesses that,” she interrupted bitterly, and slowly took -off her wrap. - -Instantly Gordon seized it. - -“Put it on, put it on!” he wailed, but she twisted herself loose. - -“I will not go, I will not! Oh, Gordon, you can’t turn me out after all -we’ve been to one another! After all the confidences!” - -He was pushing her toward the courtyard door, a man beside himself, -frenzied with fear, terrified beyond hope of succour. - -“Out of the side door!” he hissed. “I will meet you in half an hour, at -a teashop somewhere. Heloise, don’t you realise my reputation -depends----” - -It needed but this to pull the mask from her face. - -“Teashop! I am to be thrown to the lions!” - -He looked hard at her. Could a woman pun in such a solemn moment? - -“As to your reputation,” she drawled coolly, “that sort of thing doesn’t -make me get out of bed and walk round, I assure you! I will not leave -this house--alone!” - -Gordon covered his mouth with his hand. He was in no danger of talking. -He wanted to cover her mouth with his hand, but she was too far away. It -was an involuntary gesture which silenced her. She heard the knock at -the door, and then Diana’s voice: - -“Who is there?” - -He pointed to the side door, grimacing. Heloise was adamant. - -“Who’s there?” said Diana. - -“Side door,” whispered Gordon frantically. - -Heloise shook her head, hesitated, and then stole silently behind the -curtain into the recess. It was her final compromise. - -“Who is there? Who locked the door?” - -Diana’s voice was urgent. Gordon straightened his coat, smoothed his -hair, unlocked the door and threw it wide open. - -“It’s all right, dear.” He was grinning inanely like a cat. “Ha ha--it’s -only Gordon--Gord, as you would say! I’m just coming out ... here I am -back again ... like a bad penny.” - -In Diana’s eyes was a glitter which he did not like, and as she advanced -he backed instantly before her. - -“Only old Gordon--ha ha!” he said feebly. - -“Very funny. I’ll laugh to-morrow,” said Diana. - -The vulgarity of the ancient music-hall gag did not even arouse him. - -“So it’s only old Gordon, is it?” She nodded wisely. “Sit over -there--old Gordon!” She pointed to a chair. - -“Now look here, my dear girl.” It was a very colourless imitation of his -best manner. “The whole thing can be explained. I lost my train....” - -She was opening a drawer in the writing table, slowly, deliberately, her -eyes never leaving his face. When her hand came to view, it held a -Browning. - -_Click!_ The jacket snapped back. It was loaded. - -“What are you doing, Diana?” he squeaked again. - -Her eyes were now murderous. - -“Will you be good enough not to call me Diana?” she asked icily. “So -you’ve come, have you? And even I, who expect most things, didn’t expect -you. But, my friend, you’ve come at an opportune hour!” - -“Look here, old girl--” he began. - -“You can omit the familiarities.” She waved him down to his chair. -“Never imagine that you will deceive me--I know you!” - -“You know me?” he said hoarsely. He had come to a point where he wasn’t -quite certain whether he knew himself. - -“I know you,” she repeated slowly. “You’re Double Dan!” - -He leapt to his feet, the pistol covering him. Waving wild hands, he -strove to speak. - -“You’re Double Dan,” she said, and the fire in her eyes was now ominous. -“I’ve heard about you. You’re the impersonator. You and your woman -confederate lure innocent men from their homes, that you can rob them.” -She looked round. “Where is the woman? Doesn’t she appear on the scene, -or does her work finish when the luring is completed?” - -“Diana, I swear to you you’re mistaken. I’m Gordon, your cousin.” - -She smiled slowly. - -“You haven’t been as careful as usual, Dan. And the fact that I call you -by your Christian name need not inspire you with a desire to get better -acquainted. You haven’t studied him. My cousin, Gordon Selsbury, had -little side-whiskers--didn’t you know that?” - -“I--I had an accident. In fact,” said Gordon, “I took them off ... to -please you.” - -Her sneering smile chilled him through and through. - -“My cousin Gordon is not the kind of man who would have an accident with -his whiskers,” she said with cold deliberation. “Where is your lady -friend?” - -He tried to look away from the curtained recess, stared solemnly ahead -of him, but involuntarily his eyes strayed to the garden door. And then -Diana saw the slightest of movements. - -“Come out, please,” she said. - -There was no response. - -“Come out, or I’ll shoot!” - -The curtain grew agitated. Heloise, white of face, flew across the room, -flinging herself upon Gordon’s heaving bosom. - -“Don’t let her shoot me! Don’t let her shoot me!” she shrieked. - -Diana looked and nodded. - -“So this man is your husband!” she said. - -Walking back to the door, she closed it. - -“Now listen to me, Double Dan and Mrs. Double Dan, or whatever your -names may be. You are here to commit a felony, and I could, if I wished, -send for the police and hand you over to justice. I’m not sure that I -shan’t take that course. For the moment, however, your presence is -providential.” - -And then, in scorn: - -“Gordon Selsbury! Do you imagine Gordon Selsbury would bring a woman to -this house furtively? Do you imagine he would come dressed like a -third-class comedian? Never dare mention Mr. Selsbury’s name again in my -presence!” - -Gordon opened and closed his mouth, but no words came. - -“You will stay here until I give you permission to go.” - -She went to the garden gate, closed and slammed it, then came back to -Gordon. - -“You had a key? Give it to me,” she said curtly. - -Gordon obeyed, lamb-like, watching her as she double-locked the door. -And then he made his last desperate attempt. - -“Diana, I can explain everything,” he said hoarsely. “I am--the fact -is--I’ll tell you the truth. I was going abroad, and the fact is, I am -Gordon, although I may not seem so. I admit I’m wearing the most -disgustingly loud suit, and that I have in other ways changed my -appearance, but that also can be explained.” - -There was a knock on the panel of the door. - -“Wait,” said Diana, and walked backward to the entrance. “Who is it?” - -“Eleanor, madam. A telegram.” - -“Push it under the door.” - -An orange envelope came into sight, and, picking it up, she tore away -the cover and read the form. - -“Go on,” she signalled to Gordon. “You say you are Gordon Selsbury? Tell -me some more. But before you do so, listen to this: - - “‘Just leaving Euston. Take care of yourself. Gordon.’ - -“Now there need be no deception on either side. Open your heart to me, -little man. Who are you--Gordon Selsbury or Double Dan?” - -“Anything!” The wail of the damned. - -“Gordon Selsbury or Double Dan?” she demanded inexorably. - -He threw out his hands. - -“Double Dan,” snarled Gordon. - -Of the two alternative rôles, this seemed the more creditable. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -He had never seen anybody as scared as Heloise was; that was the one -clear impression which Gordon carried away from the interview. She, the -self-possessed woman of the world, a soul, one superior to the lesser -grades of humanity, seemed to have cowered and shrunk under the -domination of Diana’s baleful eye. Gordon sighed, tied his baize apron a -little tighter round his waist, and wondered where Trenter kept his -stock of plate powder. On the whole, it was good that Trenter was away, -and that he was spared the sight of his master’s humiliation. If indeed -it was a humiliation to be thrust into an ill-lit pantry with -instructions to clean the silver, and be ready at a moment’s notice to -make himself presentable. Gordon tried again and attacked a cream-jug -half-heartedly. His hands were not designed for housework. Yet he would -as soon have thought of cutting his throat with a fruit knife -(half-a-dozen of which awaited his attention) as disobey Diana’s -imperious gesture which had sent him off to the pantry to clean silver. - -He was not asleep; he had made absolutely certain of this; he was wide -awake, in his shirt sleeves, a baize apron covering his detestable suit, -and he was polishing a cream, or it may have been a milk jug. That fact -being firmly and inevitably established, he had some basis for reasoning -and wonder. Chief cause for wonder was why Diana kept him in the house -at all, believing him to be Double Dan; why she did not send immediately -for the police and have him taken off to the nearest lock-up. He was -devoutly thankful that she hadn’t! The second cause for wonder was what -had happened to the remainder of the domestic staff? Eleanor he had not -seen. There was no evidence that the cook was on the premises. Here -again this fact provided him with a certain amount of satisfaction--but -where were they? He was to learn. - -Diana made her appearance at the door of the pantry and he stared at her -open-mouthed. Around her dainty waist was a broad leather belt, and, -hanging by two straps, was a pistol holster, from the opening of which -protruded the black handle of a Browning. - -“Do you know anything about potatoes?” she asked curtly. - -Gordon was ashamed to discover that he knew nothing about potatoes, -except that they were vegetables. - -“Have you ever _peeled_ potatoes?” - -“I can’t remember,” he said. “When I was at school I think we used to -peel potatoes----” - -“I’m not interested in what happened at Borstal--that is the name of the -juvenile convict establishment, isn’t it? Put that milk-jug down and -come into the kitchen.” - -He followed her meekly. There was no sign of the cook; Eleanor was -invisible, and he learnt the reason. - -“I’ve sent my servants away for a week-end holiday,” she said. “I want -no scandal attaching to my cousin’s name. I will not even have it known -that this attempt has been made to swindle him. You understand that you -will not try to leave the house?” - -“Yes,” he nodded. - -“Naturally, it is impossible that I should keep up day and night -watching you,” she said, “so I have asked a friend to come in and help -me.” - -A gleam of hope showed in Gordon’s eyes. - -“A detective,” she said impressively, “a Mr. Superbus--a name, I think -with which you are well acquainted.” - -“That ... that ...?” spluttered Gordon indignantly. - -“That,” she said. - -A bell shrilled in the kitchen. She looked up at the indicator. The -little disc which represented the front door was oscillating violently. - -“There are the potatoes,” she pointed to them. - -Gordon saluted. He was once in the army and it seemed natural to salute. - -No sooner had she gone than he decided upon his course of action. He was -well enough acquainted with the house to know that there was a kitchen -door and for this he made. It was locked; the key had been taken away; -the windows of scullery and kitchen were heavily barred against -burglars. Gordon returned to his potatoes with a sigh. He sighed easily -in these hours. - -Again the bell rang. Diana heard it as she unbuckled the strap of her -revolver belt, and put away the weapon into the hall cupboard. She -hesitated a second with her hand on the doorknob, and then the -thunderous rat-tat forced her to action. She opened the door. The -moment had come. Before she saw the bearded gentleman she knew he was -there. - -“Three o’clock!” he cried exultantly, and threw out both his hands. -“Three o’clock, my bride, my dove, my life!” - -“Come in,” said Diana practically. - -He would have taken her in his arms, but she held him at a distance. - -“The servants,” she said and swiftly eluded his embracing arms. - -“In here,” she opened The Study door. “Guiseppi, you must behave--you -really must. My uncle----” - -“Your uncle!” He gazed at her ecstatically. - -She nodded. - -“In this house?” - -She ought to have been warned by his fervour, but the immediate -necessities of the moment threw her off her balance. - -“Why, of course he’s here,” she said. - -“Your uncle is here!” There was triumph in his tone, his wild eyes fixed -her. - -“Why ... why yes, Guiseppi,” she faltered and he closed his eyes in a -rapt smile. - -“Then the dream of my life is to be fulfilled. Your telephone--I may use -it, yes?” - -He was at the telephone before she could say yes or no. She heard him -give a number, his hotel, and then: - -“You will have my bags sent here at once, to Cheynel Gardens, yes? Two -bags, do you not understand English? My grip, bags, send them to this -place. What is the name, Cheynel? Yes, that is it, Cheynel Gardens, -Number 61. You cannot mistake it. My pyjamas you will not forget. They -are under my pillow.” - -“Guiseppi!” she gasped. “What are you doing? Wait! You can’t stay here!” - -“Yes, here, under your roof. The glory of it! It is wonderful, a -fulfilment of dreams, oh my starry vision! Without your good uncle it -was impossible. You have a new aunt? Ah, the poor Mrs. Tetherby! It was -comical, to me tragic, yet this moment comical again!” - -“But Guiseppi,” she wailed, “you can’t stay. My uncle doesn’t like -people staying in the house....” - -He patted her shoulder. - -“We shall charm him. We shall overcome his objections! Tell me his -hobby, I will speak about it. There is no subject under the sun on which -I cannot speak.” - -This she believed. - -“Your aunt! To me your aunt! Bring her at once that I may shake her hand -and kiss her on both cheeks. The aunt of Diana! Oh divine relationship!” - -In a dazed kind of way Diana realized that the Italian side of Mr. -Dempsi had developed to an enormous and unbearable extent. He could not -keep still for a moment. Now he was at the fireplace, examining the -crossed oars. - -“You have learnt to row, my little Diana? That is wonderful! We shall -row together upon the stream of Time, drinking the waters of Lethe and -forgetting the past.” - -In two strides he had reached her, gripping both her hands in his. - -“Diana, do you realise how I have dreamt of all this, through the long -nights in the bush, in the waste places of the Northern Territories, -where I wandered seeking gold and forgetfulness and finding neither? In -the silence of the native hut, broken by the little birds’ twittering in -the darkness, and no other sound but the sighing of the wind--your face -was there! Your exquisite memorable features, the glory of your hair, -your eyes that smiled and tormented....” - -He broke off abruptly. - -“Your uncle ... produce him....” - -Gordon had peeled his third potato when Diana staggered into the -kitchen. They were big potatoes when he started to deal with them. They -were very small when he had finished. It was difficult to know where the -skin began and ended; he had cut deep to make sure. - -At the sight of her tragic face he dropped his potato. - -“Anything wrong?” - -“Wrong? Everything’s wrong!” she said bitterly. “I’m going to give you -your chance. I don’t like your name, Dan, and I’ve changed it. You’re -Isaac!” - -“Who!” he twittered. - -“You’re Isaac, my uncle Isaac!” - -He put down the knife, wiped his hands on his apron and went slowly -across to her. - -“I am not your uncle Isaac,” he began. - -“Take off _that_!” she pointed to the apron. “Put on your coat and come -upstairs. Remember, you’re uncle Isaac and that terrible female--where -is she?” - -“How the dickens do I know where she is?” asked the annoyed Gordon. - -“Wait!” - -Diana flew up the stairs to the top of the house and in the spare room -where she had intended putting the hired man and wife, she found Heloise -sitting disconsolately on the edge of the bed, a suspicious wetness -about her eyes. When the door was unlocked and flung open, the woman -jumped up. - -“Now, see here, Mrs. Selsbury,” she began in her high voice, “I don’t -know the law of this country but you’ve no right to lock me in----” - -“Do you want me to send for the police?” asked Diana, calm but menacing. - -“I tell you you’re all wrong, Mrs. Selsbury,” said Heloise with great -earnestness. “You’ve made the biggest mistake of your life. That poor -fish is your husband.” - -“I have no husband--fish, flesh, fowl or herring,” said Diana. “I never -had a husband,” and then remembering, “I am a widow.” - -Heloise was momentarily staggered. - -“You can forget all that has happened to-day,” said Diana speaking a -little wildly. “A visitor has come--he is staying in the house ... an -old friend of mine ... in fact, I was once engaged to him until he died -in the bush.” - -“Is he here?” asked the startled Heloise. - -“He is here,” nodded Diana, “and he is remaining. Obviously, I cannot -allow him to stay unless I have a chaperone. You are,” she spoke -deliberately, “Aunt Lizzie.” - -Heloise could only look at her. - -“You’re Aunt Lizzie and your wretched criminal husband, or whatever he -is (I can only hope for the best) is Uncle Isaac. Go right down into the -kitchen and tell him.” - -“Let me get this right,” said Heloise slowly. “I am Aunt Lizzie ... you -want me to be your Aunt Lizzie.... and that poor child is to be ...?” - -“Uncle Isaac.” - -“I haven’t gotten it right yet,” said Heloise, “this is a cinema lot ... -you’re playing somep’n,” she had forgotten momentarily that she was a -lady of fashion and culture. “I’m Aunt Lizzie....” - -She sank under the burden that had been imposed upon her. - -“You’re all crazy, that’s what. I’m an American citizen, or near -American.... Toronto, but I live so close that I could throw a stone -across the border. And I’m Aunt Lizzie!” - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - -Gordon was playing absently with potato peelings when she came in. - -“You’re Uncle Isaac!” she said in a strained, hazy fashion. - -“Where have you been, Heloise?” - -The sight of his companion in misfortune brought him with a jerk to -normal. Heloise was real, something to cling to; he forgot his -resentment in the joy of seeing something that anchored him to Gordon -Selsbury. - -“Say Gordon, that Jane ... she’s Diana, huh?” - -He nodded. - -“Your wife, you never told me that?” - -“She is not my wife ... she has no right here ... if I gave you cause to -think I was married it was because I wanted you to go. Don’t you see -what you’ve done? You’ve ruined me! If you had only kept away--if you -had only kept away!” he moaned. - -“She’s your widow,” she was very quiet and restrained. He decided that -she had lost her reason. - -“Yes, if you like, she’s my widow,” he said soothingly. “Sit down.... I -will get you a glass of water.” - -“Diana!” said Heloise in wonder. “That’s your little Australian girl.... -Gordon, was she a cop?” - -“A what?” - -“A headquarters woman! She’s got the style. Come on.” - -“Where?” - -“She wants us ...” said Heloise listlessly. “What’s the good of -fighting, Gordon? We’re entangled in the mesh of circumstance.” - -It was a favourite profundity of Heloise; he had heard her say it many -times. But they were not entangled then. - -Five minutes later. - -A small brown-faced man was shaking Gordon by the hand, by both hands, -by alternate hands. In the interval of shaking, he held hands. - -“Your uncle ... and so young! And yet, he is older than he seems! And -this is Aunt Lizzie!” - -He kissed the patient Heloise on both cheeks. - -Gordon was a dumbfounded spectator. Who was this infernal little cad, he -demanded--Diana had omitted an introduction. - -After a while it came. - -“This, Uncle Isaac, is Mr. Guiseppi Dempsi--you remember how often I -have spoken of him.” - -Her steely glance was unnecessary. Gordon remembered. - -“I thought he was dead.” So intense were his feelings that his voice -dropped to a deep base. - -It startled even himself. - -“But I am alive! Rejoice, Uncle Isaac! Your little Wopsy is alive! I -have come back from the shades! A syren’s sweet magic brought me across -the world, yea, even through the shadows....” - -He pointed with his whole hand to Diana and then. - -“My bride!” he said tremendously. - -Gordon looked from one to the other. “Dempsi ... bride ... bride -Dempsi....” - -“Perfectly ridiculous,” said Gordon and quailed under a fiendish glare -from Diana. - -But Mr. Dempsi was too happy to find anything in the interruption but a -piece of rare good humour. - -“We will have long talks, you and my uncle!” he said and beamed round on -his hostess. “Tell me, little one, have I changed? Ah, but I was a boy -then, a weak, vacillating ignorant boy. I did not realize that to win a -woman she must be carried off her feet. To whine and wail for her, that -is no good; to be diffident and timid--that is no good. To sigh at her -feet bores her, to be humble arouses the greatest contempt ... women -desire in men the grand manner, biff, bang, boff!” - -“Uncle has to go now to ... to feed the chickens,” said Diana hurriedly. - -Mr. Guiseppi Dempsi must neither biff, bang nor boff at 61 Cheynel -Gardens. Dismayed she realized how broken were the reeds on which she -had leant. They also were to know. She came into the kitchen after them. - -“You’re no good, either of you,” she was in despair. “I suppose you’re -good crooks, but that is because you haven’t the brains to be anything -else. You stood like wax figures from the Chamber of Horrors and did -_nothing_!” - -“What were we supposed to do?” Gordon was stung into enquiring. “If I’d -done what I wanted to do, I’d have thrown the little wop into the -street! But you’re master here. You won’t accept a perfectly simple -explanation----” - -“Your perfectly simple explanation doesn’t go with Aunt Lizzie,” she -stopped him in her most imperial manner. “You might have deceived me but -for that--be sensible, man. I _know_ you’re Double Dan. I want to use -you if I can--if I can’t I’ll send for the police. I’m expecting Mr. -Superbus at any moment--you will be under his eye; try to conduct -yourself as an uncle would.” - -Gordon writhed. - -“How can I behave like an uncle when you’re setting an infernal -bottle-nosed enquiry agent to watch me?” demanded Gordon hotly. “It is -no crime to be an uncle, my good girl! You can’t say ‘Watch that man, -he’s my Uncle Isaac!’ By your standard of ethics, an uncle may be a -suspicious circumstance, but in this country it isn’t ... what excuse -can you give?” - -Her lips curled. - -“I can say that you are weak-minded,” she said, cold-bloodedly, “and -that is just what I am going to say!” - -Gordon leant against the table for support. - -“I’m not weak-minded,” he protested. - -They waited until the sound of Diana’s footsteps had died away. - -“This comes of trips to Ostend,” said Mr. Selsbury with a catch in his -voice. - -“If you’d gone to Ostend that couldn’t have happened,” said Heloise -fiercely. “Does it occur to you that my husband has followed us and is -at this moment sitting on the doorstep waiting to free your poor spirit -from this earthly bondage?” - -Gordon passed his hand wearily over his forehead. He was in the depths -of despondency. - -“I don’t care,” he said. “I don’t care about your husband. He’s probably -a sensible man to whom one could explain things. Diana is so infernally -sure of herself that you can’t argue with her.” - -Sitting on the edge of the table, she had lit a cigarette, and was -sending blue, twisting rings of smoke into the air. She did not speak -for a long time, and then only to break in upon Gordon’s gloomy -thoughts. - -“My, I wish I was back home in my little apartment on a hundred ’n’ -thoity-ninth Street!” she quavered. - -Mr. Selsbury was visibly surprised. He had never heard her say “thoity” -before. - -Diana had come to feel unaccountably fagged. There was no adequate -reason, for as a rule she was tireless; but the succession of demands -upon her nervous energy was telling. She had to watch for tradesmen, she -had to answer the door; a dozen times she was called from The Study to -interview callers of all kinds who, obeying the large notice she had -hand-printed and stuck on the kitchen door, “Please come to the main -entrance: this door is not in use,” fed her with packages of grocery, -baskets of meat, trays of fish. The amount of food that was consumed at -No. 61 was appalling; she, at any rate, was appalled. - -Toward evening, when Dempsi was fidgetting for the dinner she had -forgotten to order, a man called. He was poorly dressed, unsavoury of -appearance. His thin, yellow face was unshaven and he carried his head -slightly askew. The sight of Diana took him aback for a moment. - -“Good evening, miss,” he said, touching his cap. “I’ve called for the -money.” - -“Whose money?” she asked, surprised. - -“Mine: I cleaned the windows yesterday.” - -Then she recalled him. Heloise had complained that the man was “nosing -round The Study,” and expressed doubts about his honesty and bona fides. - -“Name of Stark, miss,” he said encouragingly. - -“I remember.” She went in search of her bag. - -When she came back, he was examining the lock of the door with -professional interest. He was once a lock-maker, he offered the excuse -for his curiosity. If Diana had not been wearing very soft-soled boots, -the excuse would have been unnecessary. - -“Mr. Selsbury not in, miss?” as she counted the money in his hand. - -“No,” she said shortly. - -“Mr. Trenter in, miss?” - -“No.” Her eyes gleamed. - -“Will Mr. Selsbury be away long--I wanted to see him about a job?” - -“I don’t know when he will be back,” she said. “There are several men in -the house: would you like to see one?” - -His expression changed. - -“No, thank you, miss.” - -She closed the door on him and wondered when the Watch Dog would -arrive. - -There was still a lot of money in the safe. Those unaware of her -obligations to Mr. Dempsi might imagine there was more. - -Dempsi had wandered out of the room when she came in, and she went -swiftly to the safe. It was one of those old-fashioned receptables that -had, in addition to the combination, a further lock operated by a key. -Gordon had once told her that the key was never used; he had once -mislaid it and had to summon experts to open the door. She searched his -writing-table, pulling out drawers (she opened them all without -difficulty) and at last, in a small envelope inscribed gratuitously -“Key,” she found what she sought. - -“Thank goodness!” said Diana. - -A turn of her wrist and the safe was secure even against those who by -cunning or violence had obtained the code word. - -Mr. Julius Superbus came importantly, descending from a taxicab and -drawing out after him a large tin box, mottled red and black. He -produced, also from the interior of the cab, a large scrap-book fastened -about with a broad green canvas strap. He also delivered from the cab a -daring golf cap. These he deposited on the sidewalk, paid the taximan -his fare, climbing inside to verify what had seemed to be a -preposterous statement of claim, and donated the driver sixpence. Diana -in the note she had scrawled had added a P.S. “Spare no expense.” - -Gathering his belongings under both arms, he went up the steps, stooped -and pressed the bell with his nose, a clever little device that had once -come to him as an inspiration and which in itself advertised his -originality. - -Diana answered the door. - -“You sent for me,” said Julius simply. “I have come.” - -She was obviously relieved to see him, and piloted him into the -dining-room. - -“Mr. Superbus, I am going to make great demands upon you, and I’m sure I -shall not ask in vain. I am in the greatest trouble.” - -He inclined his head. - -“Have you searched all your clothes?” he asked quickly. “You’ve lost -something--I know this by, so to speak, a method of my own. It’s natural -to suspect servants--but do they do it, ma’am? Not once in fifty -times----” - -“I’ve lost nothing. Mr. Superbus, my uncle is here----” - -She was doubtful as to how she should go on. Should she take him -entirely into her confidence? A wild idea, but not without its -advantage. - -“Relations,” the Roman pronounced, “are best apart. They come, they -borrow money, they eat you out of house and home, and when they go, they -haven’t a good word for you. Uncles especially. Leave him to me, ma’am; -I’ll put the case to him man to man. He’ll be out of this house ...” he -looked at his watch--“in five minutes.” - -She enlightened him briefly: her uncle was a welcome visitor; a nice -man, very much like Mr. Selsbury in appearance and as young. Only ... -she tapped her forehead. Mr. Superbus understood. - -“Tact,” he said, “tact and humour. Let ’em think they’re havin’ their -way and then the iron hand in the velvet glove--an expression I invented -myself,” he appended modestly. “Leave him to me. You couldn’t come to -anybody better than me, ma’am. We’ve had several lunatics in our -family”--Diana stepped back a pace--“and his good lady is here?” - -“Aunt Lizzie.” - -“That makes it a _little_ awkward,” regretted Superbus, “owing to the -difficulty of watching him when he’s asleep. Unless Aunt Lizzie would -mind? I am a family man.” - -“She might object,” said Diana. “No, I don’t think that you need do -that. If you can keep a general eye on him. He must not leave the house -on any excuse.” - -Mr. Superbus smiled. - -“You needn’t worry about that, ma’am,” he said. - -There followed more instructions and warnings. Diana flew into The Study -to pacify a distracted Dempsi, whose urgent voice had interrupted her -twice during the interview with the detective. - -Mr. Superbus went into the kitchen thoughtfully. He saw no resemblance -between Gordon Selsbury and his uncle. He noted that in Aunt Lizzie’s -face was an expression of uneasiness. - -“Good afternoon,” he said. “My name’s Smith.” - -Gordon pointed to the door. - -“Go out and change it,” he said. - -Mr. Superbus was amused. - -“I thought I’d pop down and have a look at you, Uncle Isaac,” he said, -and bowed to the lady, “and Aunt Lizzie.” He radiated compassion. - -“Get out!” roared Gordon, red of face. “Go back to the lady who employs -you and tell her that I give her ten minutes to hand me my keys and kick -her infernal Dempsi out of the house!” - -“What’s the good?” It was Heloise who spoke. “If you make a fuss you’ll -be seeing the judge on Monday.” - -“I don’t care!” Gordon was toeing the limit. “I simply don’t care. I’m -the master of this house and I will assert myself.” - -“Say, Gor-don! What am I--one of the extras? Ain’t I got any say in -this? You don’t care! Well, I’m certainly glad you’re that way--it’s -grand. But I allowed myself to be trapped by a she-octopus and I’ll find -another way of getting out than taking the short trail to the hutch. And -the only way out is to behave.” - -Mr. Superbus agreed. He was not unprepared for the claim that Gordon was -master of the house: against this strange hallucination on the part of -Uncle Isaac that he was his own nephew, Diana had warned him. - -“You’re a good lad and I’m a good lad,” he murmured. “We’re all good -lads together.” - -He winked at Heloise. Susceptible to such signals, Heloise winked back. - -It was maddening--to what degree, Gordon learnt painfully. Mr. Superbus -was so kind and so helpful and so tolerant. Gordon went into his pantry -and searched for a large, razor-sharp carving knife. There are some -things no man can endure--kindness is one of them. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - - -“Life,” said Mr. Dempsi, stretching the toes of his small feet to the -fire with a luxurious intake of breath, “is a beautiful thing. From the -utter depths of loveless despair to the sublime accomplishment of -heart’s desire--what a transition, my own!” - -“Mr. Dempsi--” began Diana. - -“Wopsy,” he murmured reproachfully. - -“Well--Wopsy. I have allowed you to stay because I wanted a quiet talk -with you. A quiet talk,” she stressed the qualification as he reached -out for a hand that was not there. - -“Silence is so wonderful.” He turned his languishing eyes upon her. -“Silence and thought and The Woman.” - -But Diana had her piece to say, carefully prepared and rehearsed in the -solitude of her room. - -“Five years ago you were good enough to ask me to marry you. I refused. -People say that young girls are brainless--the fact that I declined the -honour you offered is proof to the contrary. What I felt then, I feel -now. My heart is in the grave!” - -“_My_ grave.” His smile was melancholy but complacent. - -“Don’t be silly. You are alive, I’m sorry--I mean I should be sorry if -you weren’t. I had a lover--my heart went out to him, Wopsy,”--her voice -trembled, she thought there were tears in his sympathetic eyes, “but he -passed.” - -“Ran away from you?” Mr. Dempsi sat up. - -“When I say ‘passed’”--there was more than a trace of acid in Diana’s -voice--“I mean ... to the Great Beyond.” - -“Pegged out?” Dempsi shrugged. “These things happen. Once I loved a -girl--oh, Diana, such a girl amongst girls! Tall, divinely fair, -gracious in every look and movement. She also passed--to the Great -Beyond.” - -“She died?” whispered Diana. - -“She went on to the stage--in America,” said Dempsi. “She was dead to -me. I cut her out of my heart. I could have killed myself, but I said: -‘Wopsy, have you forgotten your little Diana--your first, your only -love?’ With a courage that I have often admired, I forgot her. She is -now the greatest screen vamp in Hollywood. I see her frequently without -a tremor. Such things happen.” - -Diana was unmoved, though a little discouraged. - -“My love will never be forgotten,” she gulped. “Wopsy, you see how -impossible it is--did you get the money?” - -“The money--you sent it to me? But, Diana, how foolish!” - -“I sent it by cheque,” she said. - -He sank back again in his chair. - -“You are a foolish little one. Money!” He laughed cruelly. “How you -Anglo-Saxons worship money! To men of my temperament ...!” He snapped -his fingers. “As to your unfaithfulness to the great ideal I provided, -your heartless disregard for my memory, I forgive you. You were only a -child--you could not be expected to cherish the memory of the man who -died for you. That is past. We belong to the Day--to-morrow, Monday, -Tuesday we shall be married.” - -“What are we doing on Wednesday?” she asked. “Forgive me for looking so -far ahead.” - -For a second he was disconcerted, uneasy: that he betrayed in his -laughter. - -“My dear little Diana, how droll you are----” - -“Listen, Dempsi or Wopsy, as the case may be--you are returning to your -hotel to-morrow. We are not getting married on Monday, Tuesday or -Wednesday. Shall I tell you why? I see that you are interested. Because -I don’t want to marry you.” - -His face darkened. - -“This is Uncle Isaac!” he said between his teeth. “The influence of that -man is diabolical! All my life I have been thwarted by aunts and uncles. -He shall answer to me--Guiseppi Dempsi!” - -He flung out of his chair, took two strides toward the door, when she -caught his arms desperately. - -“Let me go,” he stormed. - -“If you leave this room I will telephone for the police!” - -The tension relaxed. - -“For me--the police for me!” He covered his face in his hands and his -shoulders heaved convulsively. Diana felt no regrets. - -“And she of whom I dreamt threatens me. Let me die!” - -Diana let him. At the end of three minutes he was still alive. - -“Mr. Dempsi, dry your eyes.” - -Like a faithful but heart-broken hound, he obeyed. - -“You may stay here to-night,” she said; “your bedroom is at the top of -the stairs. I hope you sleep well. If you want anything, ring the bell. -Good-night.” - -He turned wearily toward the door. - -“This is not Diana.” - -His dejection would have touched a heart of stone. Diana was unmoved. -She heard his door close, went silently up the stairs and slipped a key -into the lock. He heard, too late, the grating of steel against steel. -Before he could reach the door the lock snapped. - -“Who is that--who has locked the door? Open it at once.” - -“It is I,” said Diana in a low voice. - -“But, Diana, this is extraordinary!” - -“I do it for your own protection,” she whispered through the keyhole. -“Uncle Isaac does not like you--and _he is armed_.” - -A silence. - -“But this is dangerous! If there is a fire----” - -“Use the extinguisher!” she hissed. “It is hanging in the wardrobe.” - -She was tired, aching in every limb, immensely lonely. Oh, for the -comforting presence of Gordon! Or even Eleanor, at that moment sitting -in agitated conference with Mrs. Magglesark, discussing the strange -behaviour of mistresses in general and Australian mistresses in -particular. - -Happily there was Mr. Superbus. - -The faint sound of music came up from the servants’ hall as she -descended the stairs. Mr. Superbus was playing a mouth-organ softly, -almost musically. Aunt Lizzie sat before the kitchen fire, chin in hand. -Uncle Isaac leant against the kitchen dresser, glowering at the -musician. The harmonies were confirmed as she opened the door. - -“Had a pleasant evening?” she asked. - -“I’ve had nothing to eat but bread and cheese,” said Gordon. “This -little joke of yours is going too far, Diana.” - -She looked at him aghast. - -“We didn’t have any dinner!” she said in dismay, tempered with the -satisfaction that Dempsi was at that moment starving in his locked room. -“I haven’t even had bread and cheese--it is time for you to go to bed.” - -“I’ll go when I please,” said Gordon loudly. - -Mr. Superbus shook his head reprovingly. - -“Naughty, naughty!” he chided. “That’s not like my Uncle Isaac. And he’s -been such a good boy, ma’am, singing as gay as a lark.” - -Gordon blushed. - -“I didn’t sing, you jackass!” he growled. - -“Didn’t he sing, Aunt Lizzie?” - -She shrugged indifferent shoulders. - -“Well, if he didn’t sing he ’ummed,” insisted Mr. Superbus. - -His repertoire on the mouth-organ included the Eton Boating Song--Gordon -was an old Etonian. Doubtless he had ’ummed: no Etonian could resist the -lilt of it. - -“To bed,” said Diana curtly. - -Swinging her keys, she had the appearance of a jailer. - -“You will regret this,” said Gordon between his teeth. “I can bring a -thousand people to identify me.” - -“And how many to identify Aunt Lizzie?” asked Diana with a curl of her -lips. - -Gordon had no answer. She had the exasperating habit of shutting every -door in his face, dispelling every wild vision of liberty that hope -conjured to shape. - -Heloise was not silenced. - -“Why, that’s not going to be difficult,” she drawled. “I’m Mrs. van -Oynne of 71 Clarence Gate Gardens.” - -“Very good,” nodded Diana. “You are at liberty to telephone to the -police and allow them to identify you. I’ll tell them that by an error I -have mistaken you for Double Dan’s--what is the word? partners? They -will put things right.” - -Heloise got up. - -“I was never strong for fighting,” she said. “I’m going to bed.” - -Diana led the way, Gordon came after, Mr. Superbus followed, emitting -soft tuning noises from his mouth-organ. Were it in his repertoire, -Gordon would have selected “The Death of Asa” as an appropriate -accompaniment to that solemn march. He imagined himself a malefactor on -his way to execution. Diana had the air of hangman and private torturer. - -“Good-night,” he said mechanically, and stopped at the door of his room. - -“Not in there!” Her loud whisper was threatening. He followed to the -floor above. The room chosen was that in which Diana said she intended -sleeping the man and wife who were to be engaged for the autumn -cleaning. Heloise went in--she knew the room. - -“Good-night,” she said. - -“You have forgotten something,” said Diana. - -“If you think I’m going to kiss you, there’s a surprise coming to you, -girl,” said Heloise, and tried to shut the door. - -“Your husband,” said Diana primitively. - -The door slammed, Diana heard a chair dragged across the room, and -guessed that the back of it was being propped under the handle. Gordon’s -throat went dry. - -“You have quarrelled?” said Diana. “Or perhaps you don’t....” - -“I don’t!” - -The voice came from his stomach--he had never suspected such a range of -sound in himself. - -“That’s very awkward.” She tapped her lips with a key. “You’ll have to -go into the spare room. Come down.” - -The spare room was at the far end of the passage and the bed had not -been made up. - -“There are the blankets,” said Diana and pointed. “To-morrow I will find -sheets for you. The bed is more comfortable than any you’ll find at the -police station.” - -She locked the door on him. - -The window was open, but there was no method of reaching safety. Here -the wall dropped sheerly to the bottom of the area, and if you missed -the area there was a row of sharp, spiked railings. Gordon decided to go -to bed. For an hour he tossed from side to side, his nerves on edge, -sleep farther from him than ever. There might be a spare key to the room -in one of the drawers. He searched diligently, but without success. Then -he tried the door. From somewhere outside came the sound of a -knife-cleaner working eccentrically. Or it may have been the noise of a -carpet-sweeper being pushed across the floor by one who had no -conception of rhythm. As he turned the handle, the noise ceased and a -voice said: - -“Sleep well, Uncle Isaac.” - -Mr. Superbus, that faithful watch dog, was sleeping on the mat. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - - -Diana stirred uneasily in her sleep and woke. There was no sound but the -distant snore of Mr. Superbus, but she had an uncanny instinct that all -was not well. Slipping out of bed, she pulled on her dressing-gown and -looked out of the window. She saw a figure on the sidewalk. A man, -slight of build, round-shouldered. She saw him clearly in the light of -the street standard which was immediately opposite the house. She -guessed his face rather than saw it, and wondered where she had seen him -before. Stark, the window-cleaner! Now she knew him. As she looked, he -stood back quickly, bringing himself against the railings. Craning her -neck, she saw a shadowy policeman slowly passing the end of the street. -He reached the opposite corner and stopped, came a few steps down -Cheynel Gardens and stopped again. There was the flare of a match. It -was the hour when policemen produce surreptitious pipes in defiance of -all regulations. The figure against the railings remained motionless. - -“What do you want?” demanded Diana. - -Mr. Stark looked up. - -“Nothing, lady. I can’t sleep,” he stammered. - -“See the policeman: he’ll nurse you,” said Diana. - -He disappeared up the passage leading to the courtyard, but presently he -came back and walked boldly back to the main street. Diana saw the -smoking policeman cross the road. There was a brief conversation and Mr. -Stark disappeared. Diana thought she had seen the policeman’s hands -moving scientifically over the loafer’s body. - -She was thoroughly awake now. The hour was 3.15. She took up her -handbag, unlocked and opened her door and listened. The watchful Julius -was awake instantly. - -“It is only I, Mr. Superbus,” she said, relieved to find him so alert. -“I am afraid you’re having a very uncomfortable time.” - -“No, miss: I seldom sleep. Napoleon was that way by all accounts. Want -anything, ma’am?” - -“I’m going to make myself a cup of tea,” she said, and went down the -gloomy stairs to the kitchen. - -She was very hungry--she made tea, found a tinful of biscuits and called -her protector in a whisper to share the feast. - -“We might as well have some light,” she said, and lit the hall lamp. -“Come in, Mr. Superbus.” - -The door of The Study did not yield to her pressure, and she frowned. - -“I’m sure I did not lock this door,” she said, and found the pass-key in -her bag. The door was bolted on the inside! - -“Wait here whilst I dress,” she said. - -The eyes of Julius Superbus bulged. Excitement toned his complexion from -petunia to old gold. He was not nervous; he was not frightened. Danger -made him go pale. Mark Antony was that way. - -She was down again in an incredibly short space of time, took the -revolver belt from the hall cupboard and fixed it about her waist. Mr. -Superbus saw the gun in her hand and felt more comfortable. - -“Open the door, please.” - -There was a faint rustle of movement on the other side of the door. A -not so faint click as if lights were being extinguished. - -“Guard the back of the house,” she said in a low voice. “He will -probably escape over the wall. Take no risks--strike him down at once. -He may be armed!” - -Mr. Superbus did not move. He was rooted to the spot, as they say. - -“What about getting a policeman?” he asked hollowly. - -She shook her head. - -“I don’t want the police here. Do as I tell you, please.” - -Mr. Superbus tried to lift a foot and winced; his rheumatism had “come -on” again. - -“I won’t leave you here by yourself,” he said unsteadily; “it would be -cowardly, leaving a lady by herself.” - -From the hall there was one entrance to The Study. You might reach it, -however, through the small ante-room which Gordon used as a book store. -He refused to dignify the place with the description of “library.” - -“Stay here,” she whispered, and sped along the dark passage. - -The door was unlocked, the smell of books came to her in the darkness, -and she stepped stealthily into the room, pistol in hand. - -The second door into The Study opened. The big room was in darkness -except for the faint light of the painted window. - -“Hands up!” she called. “I see you!” - -The light control was at the other end of the room--she felt cautiously -forward. She had taken a few steps when the door into the hall jerked -open and a figure darted through, slamming the door.... - -Superbus would have him, she thought exultantly as she ran in pursuit. -But there was no sound of struggle, and when she flew into the hall it -was empty. - -“Mr. Superbus!” she called. - -“Here, ma’am.” He came out of The Study behind her. “I follered you,” he -said; “it wasn’t right to let a lady take risks. Did you see him?” - -“Oh, why didn’t you do as I told you?” she wailed. - -“My duty was to foller you.” Julius was dogged. “It was safer.” - -Which was true. - -She put on all the lights of The Study. Nothing apparently had been -disturbed except---- - -She had left the pointer of the combination on the letter “X.” It was -now on “A.” - -“Bring in the tea,” she said, and continued her inspection. - -Mr. Superbus returned with the tray she had filled. - -“What we want are cloos,” he said gently, so gently that she did not -hear him aright. - -“The wine cellars are closed. I don’t want the bother of unlocking -them--and I never drink.” - -“Cloos,” said Julius loudly. - -“Oh! I thought you said ... well, find some.” - -Bent double, he prowled round the room. Diana ate biscuits ravenously. - -“Somebody has been here,” he pointed to the big chair near the -fireplace. “Look at that cushion--there’s the mark of a head.” - -“Mine,” she was laconic, a trifle unkind. “Look for cigar-ash, my dear -Watson!” - -He eyed her with a certain amount of suspicion which was largely -justified. - -“Come and eat,” she said, and dropped the biscuit tin within reach. “Now -how on earth did he get out?” - -“Who?” - -“Doub--Uncle Isaac.” She corrected her error instantly. - -Julius could afford to smile. - -“He didn’t get out. I’ve never left my post, ma’am. My own theory is -that it was a burglar.” - -“How did he leave the house?” she asked. “The front door is still -chained and bolted. He must still be in the house.” - -“Don’t say that, miss--ma’am,” begged Julius nervously. “If he was in -this house I wouldn’t be responsible for myself. I go mad when I see -burglars--that’s why the doctor ordered me to keep away from ’em.” - -“He’s in the house; probably hiding in the kitchen. Have some biscuits; -when I’ve finished my tea we’ll go look for him.” - -Julius had no appetite. - -“This is a case for the regular police,” he said earnestly. “They’re -paid for it, anyway. The Government supports their widows. Besides,” -unselfishly, “they get promotion for capturing burglars. I believe in -doing somebody a good turn whenever I can. Shall I get a copper?” - -She motioned him to remain. - -“Stay here: I will look.” - -He refused to stay. His place was by her side and a little behind her. -He liked the way she handled that Browning. She seemed the kind of -woman who would stand no nonsense. - -The kitchen drew blank. - -“I never thought he was here,” she said. “No, it was Uncle Isaac.” - -Mr. Superbus, back in The Study, propounded a startling theory. - -“There’s such things as subterranean passages,” he said. “I’ve seen ’em. -You push back a panel and there’s a flight of stairs, leading to an -underground vault. You touch a spring----” - -“There are no springs to be touched at 61 Cheynel Gardens,” she said, -“and no panels, and no underground vaults except the cellar where the -furnace is. Go down and satisfy yourself.” - -Mr. Superbus countered graciously that her word was sufficient. - -The hour was a quarter after four o’clock. Mr. Superbus lit the fire, -going very slowly down to the kitchen to find the kindling wood, and -coming very swiftly up again. His teeth were chattering: it was very -chilly in the kitchen, he said. - -“There was nothing to hurt you in the kitchen,” she said. - -Julius was amused. - -“Hurt _me_? I’d like to see the thing that tried it on! I don’t know -what fear is, ma’am. All our family is that way. My brother Augustus -walks through a churchyard every night from the Duchesses’ Arms----” - -“Does she know him so well--how odd!” she said. - -“It’s the name of an inn, ma’am. He’s married. Yes, he walks through the -churchyard and he’s never seen anything. His wife--she’s got a bitter -tongue--says that she’s not surprised. He can’t see her by the time he -gets home. My sister Agrippa is as brave as a lion--it runs in the -family. What’s that!” - -He half rose. From the hall came the sound of stealthy footsteps. - -“Go out and see.” - -She reached for the gun. - -Mr. Superbus went reluctantly, making a wide detour. You can as easily -see into the hall from the far side of the room as from the doorway. She -saw him creep slowly onward until he was in a position, by stretching -his neck, to command a view of the hall. - -“Don’t shoot, ma’am,” he quavered; “it’s Aunt!” - -Heloise advanced into the room, a scowl on her face. - -“What’s the trouble?” she demanded. “I heard somebody running upstairs.” - -Her eyes fell on the biscuit tin. She reached for a handful, sat down -before the unlit fire and munched moodily. - -“There’s a cat and canary feeling about this house,” she said. “I wish I -was home!” - -Diana was impressed by the abysmal dejection of the woman. - -“Get another cup and saucer, Mr. Superbus,” she said. “Aunt Lizzie would -like some tea.” - -Julius had gone down on his knees before the fireplace, in that attitude -resembling a priest of some mystic sect of fire-worshippers. -Straightening his back, he looked up anxiously. - -“You will find a cup and saucer on the servery at the end of the -passage,” said Diana. “You need not go down to the kitchen.” - -Julius rose with relief. - -“_I_ don’t mind the kitchen,” he said untruly. - -It was Heloise who lit the fire and crouched above it, folded arms on -knees, staring down at the little banners of flame. It seemed to her -that a million years had passed since she had discussed anybody’s soul. -Watching her, Diana had a view of a delicately moulded cheek and the tip -of a well-shaped nose, and experienced an inexplicable wave of -compassion toward the woman. - -“What is Double Dan to you?” she asked. - -Heloise shrugged her left shoulder. - -“Are you married to him?” - -Mrs. van Oynne was sensitive to atmosphere. No English barometer (the -most restless of all scientific instruments except perhaps a Japanese -seismograph) was quite as responsive to the emotions of others as was -the little detector which registered sympathy in the nimble brain of -Heloise. - -“Some day I will tell you,” she said, in a tone of deepest melancholy, -“but not now--not now!” - -She drew a long, shivering sigh. - -“I don’t suppose you’re following this kind of life for the fun of it,” -Diana went on, her heart softening toward her unwilling guest. - -“You’ve said it!” Heloise nodded slowly. - -“If I could do anything--” began Diana. - -Mr. Superbus arrived with the extra cup and saucer, and confidences -were temporarily sidetracked. - -“Sleep well, Aunt Lizzie?” asked Julius, drinking audibly. - -She shook her head. - -“No, I can’t sleep in strange beds. Besides, I’ve got trouble--big -trouble. People can’t sleep when they’re in trouble.” - -“Ah!” said Julius wisely. “My theory is that you _have_ slept.” - -She looked round at him over her shoulder. - -“Where do you get that theory? Don’t you think I know whether I slept or -not, you poor ... Mr. Superbus?” - -“No,” said Julius calmly; “there’s one thing nobody knows--you can never -know that you’re asleep. You’re a bit of a sonombulist?” he asked with -elaborate carelessness. - -“How’s that?” - -“Sonombulist--walk in your sleep. I got an idea I saw you about one -o’clock?” - -She turned her face away to the contemplation of the fire. - -“Got ideas too? That mind of yours is surely active. If I thought you’d -seen me at one o’clock, why, I’d die right here at this very minute. I -was taking off--you married?” - -Julius, with some complacence, confessed that he was. - -“Well, I guess I can discuss corsets without offending against Public -Morality. You didn’t see me at one o’clock--I’d be sorry to think you -had.” - -Julius was embarrassed but not completely discouraged. - -“Maybe it was three o’clock--I saw somebody coming downstairs. Ha ha, -Aunt Lizzie, I saw you!” - -He lifted a roguish finger. - -“You’re nutty,” she said tersely, yawned and got up. “I guess I could -sleep now. And I’m going to hang a stocking over the keyhole of my -door.” She directed this remark at Mr. Superbus and he choked -indignantly at the base insinuation. - -“Did you see her?” asked Diana after Heloise had gone. - -“No, ma’am, I didn’t,” admitted Julius. “You can often get people to -confess that way. It’s called the Third Decree in America. I’ve tried -it myself. We had a charwoman help once who used to pinch my tobacco for -her husband. I tried it on her--and other cases.” - -“You think it was Aunt Lizzie that was in the room?” - -“Certain!” said Julius. “Notice how quiet she walks? That’s a bad -sign----” - -“Notice how she reeks of Origon?” mimicked Diana. - -“I didn’t see her reeking,” admitted Mr. Superbus, confused. - -“I wonder you didn’t--those heavy perfumes are almost visible. And there -was no scent of Origon in the room--no fresh scent, anyway.” - -It was still dark when she drew up the blind and looked out. She felt -very wide awake without knowing exactly in what manner her activity -might be best employed. - -“Take this key, go up into Uncle Isaac’s room, open the door quietly and -see if he is there. And then get out--quick!” - -Julius did not like that word “quick!” Climbing the stairs leisurely, he -listened at the door of Uncle Isaac’s room. There was no sound. Which -was satisfactory. On the other hand, the very stillness might be -ominous. Mad people are notoriously cunning. He remembered gruesome -stories he had heard of cat-footed maniacs who had crept up behind their -guards and cut their throats with pieces of old iron secretly sharpened. - -Julius Superbus drew a long breath. The blood of his Cæsarian ancestors -ran a little coldly; the pumping station under his left-hand waistcoat -pocket increased its thump noisily. Again he listened. If Uncle Isaac -was asleep, he would make no noise. Therefore, if there was no sound, he -must be asleep. He went downstairs again. - -“Sleeping like an innocent child,” he reported, “one ’and under his -cheek an’ a sort of smile on his face.” - -She took the key from his hand and looked at it. - -“You went in?” - -“Right in,” said Julius, sunning his back at the fire. “Put on the -light, had a good look around.” - -She looked at the flat steel in her hand. - -“I only asked you,” she said, “because I gave you the key of The Study -by mistake.” - -Julius was a man of infinite resource. - -“I’ve got a way of opening doors that’s known only to three people in -the world.” - -“Come up with me,” she said, rising. “I’ve got a way too--I use the -right key.” - -He walked behind her, temporarily at a disadvantage. - -She opened the door of Gordon’s prison quickly and snapped on the light. - -The room was empty. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - - -Knotted to the bedstead was a rope. It was of amateur make, being three -strips of blanket plaited together, and the rope led through the open -window. - -Diana looked down. The end of the rope dangled less than six feet from -the window-sill. He must have dropped twenty feet to the stone flags -below. - -“That’s funny,” said Superbus, game to the last. “When I looked in----” - -“Let us keep to facts,” begged Diana, her youthful brows wrinkled. “What -is the use of a rope if it only falls him a few feet from the sill--and -why didn’t he pull the bed to the window?” - -She pulled the bed herself--it moved easily. The weight of a man would -have drawn it across the floor. - -Thoughtfully she took stock of the apartment. In one corner stood a -long, mirror-fronted wardrobe. Drawing her Browning, she pulled open the -door. - -“Come out, please,” she said coldly. - -Gordon stepped forth with some dignity. - -Standing in the doorway, Mr. Superbus witnessed the astonishing -spectacle and shook his head reproachfully. - -“Uncle Isaac, Uncle Isaac!” he said reprovingly. “I never thought you’d -play a trick like that on an old friend!” - -“Will you kindly tell me why you destroyed my bed linen?” asked Diana, -and her cool claim to the ownership of anything in the house aroused -Gordon to fury. - -“Your bed linen is my bed linen!” he spluttered. - -She raised her hand. - -“We will not go into that matter, Uncle Isaac,” she said with freezing -politeness. “Will you be kind enough to draw in the blanket and close -the window? It will be light soon, and I have no wish to give the -milkman a topic for discussion. I have my cousin’s interests to guard.” - -“Send for Bobbie,” said Gordon, suddenly quiet. “I don’t think he will -have any doubt as to who I am.” - -“If by ‘Bobbie’ you mean Mr. Robert Selsbury,” said Diana, “I’ve already -telephoned to him. He is out of town--probably decoyed away by your -agents.” - -Gordon was stricken to silence. The last avenue of escape was closed. - -“Very well,” he said. “I promise you I will give you no further -trouble.” - -He pulled in the rope, let down the window and drew the blinds. - -“Now, if you don’t mind,” he said, “I would like to go to sleep. I have -been up the whole of the night.” - -She nodded. - -“You may sleep, but Mr. Superbus will sit in this room. I will lock the -door on you both----” - -“Personally, I prefer sitting outside,” said Mr. Superbus hastily. “I -should like a smoke.” - -“You will remain,” said Diana with firmness. - -“If he does, I’ll chuck him out of the window,” said Gordon savagely. - -Mr. Superbus backed from the room. - -“He’ll be all right, ma’am--miss,” he said. “Trust old Uncle Isaac.” - -Diana knew that it was useless to insist. She shut the door on her -captive and went down to The Study, being confident that he would make -no further attempt at escape. - -She must get in touch with Bobbie, must even risk his annoyance at being -dragged from his bed at that unearthly hour. She took up the telephone -and put through a call. It was answered with surprising rapidity. The -voice of an unknown man spoke: she guessed it was Bobbie’s servant. - -“It is Miss Ford speaking. Can I speak to Mr. Selsbury?” - -“He hasn’t been home all night, miss. I’ve been sitting up for him. He -said he might get into London at daybreak.” - -“Where is he?” she asked. - -“He’s gone to Ostend, miss. He telephoned me from Dover.” - -The news was unexpected and a little alarming. - -“Has he gone alone?” she asked. - -“To the best of my knowledge and belief, miss,” said Bobbie’s man, -tactfully, diplomatically and legally. - -Diana hung up the receiver. Had they lured Bobbie, she wondered? - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - - -Bobbie Selsbury had gone to Victoria to rescue his brother at the -eleventh hour from a situation which could be mildly described as -dangerous. He had searched one Continental train from end to end, and -was half way through another when the guard’s whistle sounded, and he -was faced with the alternatives of leaving his search incomplete or -going on to Dover. He decided upon the latter course, continuing his -inspection of the compartments, roving Pullman cars, peeping in upon -indignant honeymoon couples, without discovering the object of his -search. At Dover he discovered that there had been a relief train leave -Victoria at a quarter to eleven; the passengers were already on the -steamer. Gordon may have come by that, he thought, and made his -decision. - -He had no passport, but most of the restrictions affecting Continental -travel, especially travel to Belgium, had been removed, and he was able -to convince the passport officer at the barrier that his business was -of such urgency, and his identity so well established, that a little -licence might be extended to him; and, on the promise that he would -return after leaving the ship, he was allowed to pass to the quayside. - -He stopped only to get a call through to London, and, by great good -luck, found the Dover-London wire disengaged. The boat was crowded, and -he was no sooner on board than he saw how impossible it was to make sure -that Gordon was not on the boat by a search whilst the ship was in port. -The _Princess Juliana_ carried Bobbie to sea. He arrived at Ostend at -four o’clock in the afternoon, having satisfied himself that, although -there were many suspicious characters on the ship, Gordon and Mrs. van -Oynne were not two of them. - -He spent two hours seeking the British Vice-Consul and persuading that -gentleman to give him the necessary certificate to be readmitted, and to -placate the passport officer on the other side, who had already been -notified of his unauthorized departure. - -Very few of the Ostend hotels were open, but Bobbie made a tour of all, -examining their visitors’ books. Gordon was not in Ostend. That was a -relief. He might have changed his mind at the last moment and gone to -Paris, but that was unlikely. Bobbie believed his brother, though he -imposed the limit of strain upon his credulity. - -He returned to Dover by the night boat, and came in the grey dawn to the -port, where he was held for two hours by the outraged passport -authorities, missing the boat train and finally catching a slow train -from the town station. He arrived in London at ten, unshaven, weary and -irritable, and he did then what he might well have done at first--he -drove straight to Scotland Yard, and, fortune favouring him, found -Inspector Carslake in his room. Carslake and he had been in France -together, and for twelve months had worked side by side in the -Intelligence Bureau, where enemy regiments were identified and their -positions plotted, by methods which would have puzzled cleverer people -than my dear Watson. - -As briefly as possible Bobbie told his story, and the inspector listened -with unusual interest. - -“It’s curious you should come to me. I have charge of the Double Dan -cases, and I must say that this looks like a typical coup of his.” - -“Gordon isn’t an easy man to impersonate,” warned Bobbie, “though I -told him he was when I was trying to scare him.” - -“Anybody is easy to Double Dan,” said Carslake at once. “Tall, short, -thin or fat. He’s a specialist--the only man at the game as far as I -know. You didn’t see the woman, Mrs. van Oynne?” - -Bobbie shook his head. - -“Do you know where she lives?” - -“I haven’t the slightest idea.” - -“He will do nothing till Monday,” said Carslake thoughtfully. “Dan only -works in banking hours, but when he does work he moves! I take off my -hat to Dan--he’s clever.” - -“Who is he?” - -“A man named Throgood. He used to be an actor--I believe he’s played -opposite some of the best people in America. He was the English dude -type. He himself is English or Welsh. His partner is an American or a -Canadian, and an ex-chorus girl. Maybe it’s the same--rather slight, -short, with golden hair, blue eyes?” - -Bobbie shook his head. - -“Doesn’t sound like Mrs. van Oynne,” he said, hope dawning in his -breast. “Perhaps I’m mistaken. You’re sure?” - -Carslake nodded. - -“We trailed her to Paris and missed her. I shouldn’t think he’d be -working again for a very long time. He likes to allow the excitement to -die down, and I shouldn’t think that he’d take on a new partner; they -require very careful training.” He chuckled. “Double Dan’s getting on -the nerves of some of your commercial people,” he said, “but I don’t -think I should worry very much about him. Anyway, I’ll come along and -see you on Monday.” - -Bobbie went home, feeling happier than he had been for the past -twenty-four hours. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - - -His servant had news for him. - -“Miss Ford rang you up this morning, sir.” - -“Oh, what had she to say?” Bobbie turned, lather brush in hand. - -“She only asked if you were at home.” - -“What time was this?” - -“About five o’clock, sir.” - -“Five o’clock! You graven image, why didn’t you tell me?” - -Lathered as he was, he dashed to the telephone and got through to Diana. - -“Is that you, Bobbie? Can I see you to-day?” - -“I’ll come at once.” - -There was a silence at the other end of the wire. - -“I don’t think you need come at once,” said Diana. “Just call in--don’t -be surprised if you find somebody here you’ve heard me speak about.” - -“Not Dempsi?” he asked, astonished. - -“Yes, he is ... staying for a day or two. I’ll explain when you come.” - -Bobbie whistled softly. - -He lunched in the gloomy solitude of his club (it was Sunday, the day on -which all clubs are at their worst) and early in the afternoon strolled -round to Cheynel Gardens. The door was opened by a stage butler. Bobbie -looked fascinated at the glittering display of shirt-front and the -ill-fitting dress suit, several times too small for its wearer. - -“Mrs. Ford is in The Study,” said the apparition gruffly. - -Bobbie gazed in wonder; the servitor with the concertina trousers might -have stepped out from any burlesque of any triangle drama. Had there -been printed across the dazzling shirt-front “James: an old family -servant, devoted to the children,” he could not have been more obvious. - -“So you’re the new butler?” - -The new butler put his hand on his heart, bowed and growled: - -“Yes, sir--name of Smith.” He was squinting, his face fearfully -distorted. - -“Well, I’m going to call you Superbus. Take that look off your face and -stop looking round corners.” - -Mr. Superbus obeyed. He was for a while disappointed. - -“Lord, sir, did you recognise me?” he asked. “Maybe Mrs. Ford told you?” - -Bobbie smiled derisively. - -“Recognise you! Good heavens, why, you absolutely shouted! I spotted you -the moment I saw you!” - -“That’s funny,” said Mr. Superbus. “My good lady always says that when I -disguise my face that way she would pass me in the street.” - -“How can you blame her? Who wouldn’t pass you in the street with that -face? Even your wife has some illusions left, I suppose. Now, Superbus, -what is the game?” - -Julius was all innocence. A wreath of wild flowers about his head would -not have made him more coyishly artless. Bobbie was not deceived. - -“Game, sir?” - -“Why are you in this house, got up like a comic seneschal? Does Miss -Ford know who you are?” - -Mr. Superbus closed the door quickly and put his finger to his lips. - -“‘Ush!” he said mysteriously. - -Bobbie waited. - -“Well, I’m ’ushing,” he said impatiently. - -Julius tiptoed to The Study and beckoned him through the doorway. He had -the air of a respectable conspirator; one who knew that whenever the -mine exploded he would be out of the way and could, in certain -eventualities, be an acceptable witness for the prosecution. - -“She sent for me,” he said darkly. “Asked me to come and stay here--I -come! Could I refuse? If there’s any danger I like to be on the spot. -That’s me!” - -Bobbie thought he understood Diana’s motive. She wanted a man in the -house; he was not alone in respecting the genius of Double Dan. - -“Oh, I see. Sensible girl!” - -Mr. Superbus nodded. - -“Yes, sir, very sensible. I don’t know anybody sensibler. She came to -the right man. Me.” - -“I was talking to myself,” a little stiffly. - -Julius inclined his head again. - -“Yes, sir; we both heard you,” he said. “I’ve got wonderful ears.” - -“I understand Miss Ford was alone in the house and she asked you to come -and stay? I’m glad.” - -“Well, not exactly alone,” explained Mr. Superbus, loath to share the -honours which were rightly his as Chief Protector. “Of course, there’s -Uncle Isaac.” - -Bobbie’s mouth opened. - -“Unc--Uncle Isaac? Uncle Isaac who?” - -Julius had meant to ask this question at the first opportunity. - -“I don’t know his other name--very bad-tempered gentleman. He has fits; -and....” He tapped his forehead, but Bobbie did not grasp the sense of -the pantomime. - -“Uncle Isaac! Suffering Moses!” - -Mr. Superbus shook his head. - -“No, sir, _he_ hasn’t come yet. They must be Hebrew gentlemen. Only -Uncle Isaac and Mr. Dempsi.” - -Bobbie knew about Dempsi. - -“--and Aunt Lizzie,” concluded Julius. - -Bobbie staggered, grasped the mantelpiece for support, and turned a wan -countenance to the shirt-fronted butler. The unreality of the position -was intensified. Presently Julius would produce two rabbits and a bowl -of goldfish from a silk hat, and Diana would skip on to the scene in a -ballet dress and a fixed smile. And then Bobbie would wake up. - -“Do you mind pouring out a drink?” he asked faintly. “My hand’s not -steady.” - -The Great Detective opened the tantalus with an air of pride and poured -forth a potion. - -“Say ‘when,’” he said. He would have made a good barman, he was so -talkative. - -“Aunt Lizzie, I think you said?” - -Bobbie had reviewed his relations, but no Aunt Lizzie showed in their -serried ranks. - -“Yes, sir--she came with Uncle Isaac, yesterday afternoon. Rare pretty -young lady she is too. Naturally she and Uncle Isaac don’t get on well -together. Fancy calling her Lizzie! It’s common. And when there’s nice -names like Maud and Ethel and Agnes to choose from.” - -Bobbie got back to normal with a struggle. - -“Why--why shouldn’t she be called Lizzie? It’s--it’s an auntish name. -Aunt Lizzie!” - -Mr. Superbus helped himself from the decanter. He it was who had -discovered the tantalus in a cabinet. And rights of discoverers are -indisputable. - -“Good health, sir!” he said, and drank. - -“Aunt Lizzie!” muttered Bobbie. - -“What I can’t understand,” said Julius, wiping his mouth deftly, “is, -when she’s got a good name like Heloise--that’s what he calls her when -they’re alone....” - -It was not the whisky, for he had not drunk thereof; nor the smell of -it, for the aroma had not reached him. The room suddenly spun before -his eyes. He saw twenty-four Superbuses wiping twenty-four moustaches. - -“Heloise! Heloise!” he muttered. “Has she--has she got hair dark as the -raven’s?” - -Julius considered. He had never met a raven, but he understood that it -was a very dark bird. - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And eyes that probe your soul?” asked Bobbie. - -Again the detective considered. - -“Well, she ain’t done any probing as far as I’m concerned,” he -confessed, “but there’s something about them that’s--well, peculiar.” - -“And the sweetest voice in the world?” - -Here again Mr. Superbus was handicapped by a lack of experience. Voices -were just voices to him. - -“I’ve never heard her singing,” he confessed, “or talking much. She -swears a bit at Uncle Isaac, which in my opinion isn’t ladylike. Nor -smoking, for the matter of that. The way some of these ladies smoke is -very sad. Smoking stunts the growth--which a doctor told me, and what a -doctor don’t know ain’t worth knowing.” - -Bobbie interrupted him. - -“Where--where is Uncle Isaac?” - -The reply came like a thunderclap. - -“Cleaning the silver.” - -Bobbie reeled. - -“Cleaning the silver!” he said, dazed. “I’ll wake up in a minute.” He -pinched himself, Mr. Superbus watching and ready to offer suggestions. -They were unnecessary: Bobbie found a tender spot. “I’m awake--it’s -real. Uncle Isaac is cleaning the silver! Where are the servants--the -other servants?” - -Julius could take exception at the “other.” - -“Miss Ford sent them out, if you mean the servants. I’m here -professional. I don’t mind tellin’ you, sir, that my job is to see that -Uncle Isaac don’t go out too.” - -Bobbie began at last to see daylight. If it was Gordon, his desire for -liberty was not only pardonable but praiseworthy. - -“Does he want to go?” - -Julius thought the question unnecessary. Surely a member of the family -knew all about the family skeletons? At the same time it was only -natural that he should pretend he didn’t. Julius was a just man. - -“He’s a bit nutty. See what I mean? He’s got delusions, -hallucinations--to use a medical expression. Sees things, thinks he’s -somebody else. I’ve had hundreds of such cases through my hands.” - -“But who put him to clean the silver?” insisted Bobbie. - -“Miss Ford. Said it would keep him occupied.” - -A step in the hall, a heavy step. - -“That’s him coming now. Don’t be afraid of Uncle Isaac, sir: he’s as -harmless as a child----” - -Gordon came in at that moment, but stopped dead at the sight of the -visitor. He was in his shirt-sleeves, he carried a duster in his hand, -his front was covered with a large white apron and a bib that was kept -in place by a pin. Bobbie could not speak--he could only stare and -stare. - -“By heavens, it’s--Uncle Isaac!” he said in a voice that was almost -inaudible to Mr. Superbus. - -“You know him, sir?” he smiled. “I thought it would be very strange if -you didn’t. Members of the same family, so to speak, and very likely -inflicted in the same way.” - -“Ye-yes, I know him.” - -Mr. Superbus approached the unhappy object of their discussion. - -“Do you want something, Uncle Isaac?” he asked kindly, and patted -Gordon’s arm. So broken was Mr. Selsbury’s spirit that his keeper -remained alive and uninjured. - -“Yes--no,” he said hoarsely. - -Julius shook his head. - -“He can’t make up his mind about anything. It takes you that way. I -wonder how he ever got married.” - -Gordon steadied himself. - -“Where is--Aunt Lizzie?” he gulped. - -“In her room, Uncle Isaac, reading.” - -For a second Gordon’s face was contorted. - -“Don’t call me uncle,” he grated, holding himself in hand. “I’m not -_your_ uncle, anyway.” - -“No, sir,” admitted Julius. “I haven’t got any uncles. Not as far as I -know. They run in some families and they don’t run in others.” - -Suddenly his brow clouded, and he glared at Gordon with such intense -malignity that even Bobbie quailed. - -“Here--I’ve just got an idea in my head, sir,” he slowly, “a sort of -inspiration. _Is_ that Uncle Isaac?” - -Bobbie started. - -“Eh?” - -“Do you know Uncle Isaac?” The idea or inspiration had taken firm hold -of his imagination. “Suppose Double Dan was passin’ himself off as him!” - -Bobbie looked past the man to his brother. Gordon was frowning and -shaking his head. He wished to keep in the character of the patriarch -for some extraordinary reason. - -“Oh, yes,” said Bobbie, “that is Uncle Isaac.” He was almost breathless. - -Julius was not immediately convinced. - -“Are you sure?” dubiously. - -Bobbie became very confident. - -“Oh, rather! That is Uncle Isaac all right--how absurd, of course it is -Uncle Isaac. I knew him in a minute.” - -No man readily sacrifices his inspirations--Julius was but human, though -there were moments when this was hard to believe. - -“Oh!” he said disappointedly. “Mind you, Double Dan’s clever.” - -“Nonsense!” said Bobbie with loud scorn. “He couldn’t impersonate Uncle -Isaac. I would know him anywhere!” - -“Oh, couldn’t he ...!” sneered Superbus. “You don’t know Double Dan!” - -Bobbie had done some quick thinking. He must talk to Gordon alone. Mr. -Superbus being impervious to the hints which followed: - -“I want to have a little talk with my uncle,” said Bobbie, “on family -business. Do you mind leaving us alone for a minute?” - -Julius was in two minds about the matter. - -“Don’t let him escape,” he cautioned. “He’s as artful as a monkey! You -ought to hear what he did to me last night!” - -“Certainly not.” Bobbie was ready to promise that he would bring his -brother to execution. - -Still Mr. Superbus lingered. Diana had gone out, leaving instructions -which were to be carried out to the letter. Julius was a stickler for -duty. - -“And don’t let him telephone.” - -Even this Bobbie promised, and Julius took a reluctant leave. - -“I’ll be on hand if he’s troublesome,” he said from the doorway. “Now, -no larks, uncle!” - -“Uncle” mutely promised. - -The portal closed, Bobbie went softly and listened. For a few seconds he -waited, and then jerked open the door. Julius was stooping to lace his -shoes. A less inquisitive man might have been suspected of having his -ear to the keyhole. - -“Want me?” he asked with a blameless smile. - -“No,” said Bobbie, so emphatically that Mr. Superbus could not mistake -his meaning. The door closed again. - -“Gordon, what on earth----?” - -Gordon threw out despairing arms. - -“Bobbie, I’m in a hell of a mess,” he said, his tone one of anguish -beyond remedy. - -“What has happened--what does it mean?” asked the bewildered Bobbie. -“Why didn’t you get in touch with me before?” - -Gordon’s gesture cut short his questioning. - -“I tried to telephone you, but I couldn’t get on, and ever since, that -infernal jackass has been keeping guard over the instrument. Is it a -crime to kill an amateur detective? I’ve forgotten. I know that in some -circumstances murder is justifiable.” - -“What has happened?” asked Bobbie again. - -For fully three minutes Gordon paced the room, so agitated that he could -not steady his voice. His relief at Bobbie’s arrival had brought the -inevitable reaction. Presently he grew calmer. - -“When I got to the station to meet--you know----” - -“Heloise?” - -Gordon winced. He didn’t want to talk about Heloise. The very sound of -her name gave him a little pain. - -“I found her in a state of terrible fear. You can imagine how I felt -when she told me that her husband was watching the barriers and -thirsting for my blood! She wanted me to go on and await her, but of -course I bolted back; went to the hotel to change, and found that the -valet who had my bag and had taken it to the station parcels office, was -away for the week-end. I came home, and she must have followed.” - -“Heloise?” - -Gordon swallowed something. - -“Say ‘she’ or ‘her,’” he begged. “I feel better about her when she’s a -pronoun!” - -“She must have followed?” repeated Bobbie in horror. “Then she _is_ -here! She--she isn’t Aunt Lizzie by any chance?” - -“She _is_ Aunt Lizzie! Aunt Lizzie! Oh, Bobbie, isn’t this the most -awful thing that ever happened? What am I going to do? I can’t leave the -house----” - -“But why?” asked Bobbie, thunderstruck. - -No man stood less in need of cross-examination at that moment than -Gordon. He had hopes that Bobbie, with his curious insight into human -affairs, would accept the situation without demanding analysis. - -“I can’t understand,” began Bobbie. “You’ve only to explain to -Diana----” - -Gordon’s laugh was harsh. Bobbie had heard him laugh once before like -that--when he was recovering from gas after having a tooth out. - -“I haven’t told you the worst,” said Gordon gloomily. “Diana found me -here and accused me of being Double Dan. I was struck dumb. The idea was -so grotesque that I could not find words to answer her. Suppose somebody -came to you in the street and accused you of murder, what would you say? -Something amusing? I haven’t the gift of persiflage. I could have got -out of it even then, but that infernal woman made her appearance and -hung round my neck! In a sense she was justified. Diana threatened to -shoot her. A woman doesn’t like that. What was I to do? My dilemma was a -terrible one! I had the alternative of admitting that I was Double Dan, -impersonator and teller of plausible stories, or of telling the -unbelievable truth, which means that she would have thought that I was -engaged in a vulgar affair with Heloise.” - -This argument seemed very sound to Bobbie. - -“Who called her Aunt Lizzie?” he asked. He might have saved himself the -trouble. - -“Who do you think?” asked Gordon bitterly. “Diana! Bobbie, that girl is -driving me mad! Why did she come from Australia to upset my life? And -I’m a member of the British Empire League! Curse the Empire! Diana is -terrible! She is carrying on with Dempsi under my eyes. The most -shocking little cad! A bounder of bounders! And Bobbie, she pretends to -be a widow! I don’t know whose widow--I sometimes think it is mine. If -that is so, the things she says about me are enough to make me turn in -my grave!” - -Bobbie was very grave and thoughtful. This was a situation so bizarre -that it could not be tested by his own experience. - -“I see,” he said slowly. “Deuced awkward, old man.” - -Gordon had expected some other comment. In all the conditions “deuced -awkward” seemed rather mild. - -“You’ve got to help me get out of this,” he said impatiently. “And we’ve -got to deal drastically with Dempsi. Why, he wanted to marry her this -afternoon! Said he knew a place that specialised in Sunday afternoon -marriages! The parson called twice! Dempsi carries a special license in -his pocket, the hateful little dago! I shall do something desperate. I -shall shoot them both.” - -Bobbie was looking at him curiously. His real anger was so patently -directed toward Dempsi, whose chief offence seemed to be that he wanted -to marry Diana: which seemed a reasonable and laudable ambition. - -“I shouldn’t shoot them,” said Bobbie slowly. “You’ll only get yourself -talked about. And besides, I don’t see that it is any business of yours. -They were old friends, lovers----” - -“Do you want to drive me mad?” snarled Gordon. “Lovers! They were never -lovers! Diana--Diana, of all women in the world, to--to--carry on like -this! Encouraging him--there’s no other word for it! Diana, whom I -believed the very soul of modesty!” - -Bobbie had no especial interest in Diana’s soul; he thought she was a -nice girl. - -“It must have come as a bit of a shock to you,” he said sardonically, -and Gordon was hurt at the innuendo. “What does Aunt Lizzie say about -it?” - -This was a subject on which he could not speak with normal politeness. - -“Does it matter what she says? Bobbie, do you know what Diana tried to -do? And this reveals an undreamt-of indelicacy of mind. She tried to -give us the same room! A wretched little servants’ room at the top of -the house. She says that Heloise is my accomplice.... It’s no laughing -matter!” Bobbie was rolling helplessly in his chair. “Diana is treating -me like a dog.” - -Bobbie surveyed his relative critically. - -“And you look a bit of a dog too in those clothes,” he said. “Where did -you dig up that suit? Gordon, I’ve seen a judge send down a man for five -years for wearing a suit like that. He said it revealed his criminal -psychology.” - -“Now, Bobbie, you’ve got to help me.” Gordon was not amused. “I’m going -to get away. Once I can get to the hotel to my bag, or even if I could -get to Scotland--which wouldn’t be a bad move--I’m safe. But I haven’t a -penny! She made me turn out my pockets at the point of a pistol. She is -the most thorough woman I have ever met. Swore that I had been trying -to get at the safe and searched me for skeleton keys!” - -Bobbie felt in his pockets. The trip to Ostend had exhausted most of the -spare cash--and it was Sunday. - -“I’m afraid I’ve no money with me,” he said. “I can get a cheque cashed -at the club for a tenner----” - -“That doesn’t matter,” interrupted Gordon. “I’ll tell you what I want -you to do--a very simple service that you can render and will save all -bother. When Diana comes----” - -Here, Bobbie thought the solution was a very simple one. - -“When she comes I’ll just tell her that you’re really Gordon Selsbury,” -he said, and Gordon leapt up from the chair where he had been sitting. - -“Do you want to ruin me?” he hissed. “Tell her I’m Gordon Selsbury? I’ve -told her, haven’t I? But I gave up telling her when I remembered -Heloise. How am I going to explain her?” - -The crux of the problem was now displayed. Bobbie had no cut and dried -solution. Such as presented were so nobbly and damp that he rejected -them without examination. - -“I’d forgotten about Aunt Lizzie,” he said thoughtfully. - -Gordon’s triumph brought little happiness to him. - -“Don’t you see it’s impossible? Now, I’ve been thinking the matter over -and I’ve worked out a much better plan than yours. I can get away when -this dithering old ass isn’t looking--which is pretty often. Diana has -to go out early to-morrow to her bankers. That will be my chance, but I -must have some money. I want it before the banks open, so you cannot -possibly help me there. What you can do is this: persuade Diana to let -you have the key of the safe. She’s put the lock on as well as the -combination. I’ve tried to open it, so I know. Get the key and pass it -to me at the first opportunity.” - -Bobbie was looking at him very hard now, and Bobbie was whistling. - -“Give you the key of the safe?” he said slowly. “By Jove!” His eyes were -bulging, his jaw had dropped. - -“What’s the matter?” demanded Gordon with a sinking feeling in his -heart. - -Slowly and distinctly the words came. - -“You infernal rascal!” - -Gordon stepped back as if he had been struck. - -“What do you mean?” he gasped. Yet he could not mistake the meaning of -words and looks. - -Bobbie’s attitude had undergone a remarkable change. The friendliness -had gone from his tone, the light of fun from his face. He glared at the -man before him; judgment and condemnation and doom was in his eyes. - -“You _are_ Double Dan!” he breathed. “By jinks! I was deceived! You’re -clever, my man, diabolically clever. Carslake said you were, and like a -fool I thought he was exaggerating. You _are_ Double Dan! My brother has -whiskers! Where are yours? I thought there was something strange about -you when I saw you. And now that I come to think of it, that -cock-and-bull story of yours about Aunt Lizzie is just the kind of story -you would tell if you were detected--phew! Bravo, little Diana!” - -Gordon went purple and red; he uttered strange, wild animal noises that -had no meaning. - -“I swear----” - -Bobbie shook his head. - -“It won’t do, my friend,” he said. “I see the whole plot. Of course, -you and your accomplice pumped my unfortunate brother, who is on his way -to Paris or some other unreachable place. You discovered that I knew he -was going to Ostend, and you changed your plans. Gordon went to Paris as -I feared----” - -“Alone?” - -Gordon was becoming an adept in self-control. Alone? That was a poser -for Bobbie. - -“I didn’t think of that. But there’s no reason why part of your original -story shouldn’t be true. The husband appears, the lady begs the victim -to go and she will follow. That is it!” - -“I tell you----” - -Bobbie stopped his protest. - -“No, no, my man, it won’t do,” he said sternly. “My cousin, Miss Ford, -who has so cleverly trapped you, must have some special reason for not -wishing to hand you over to justice--had I been she, I would have sent -for the police. She has probably taken the wisest course--I will not -interfere with her plans.” - -He laughed softly--Gordon thought that the immaculate agriculturist Abel -must have laughed like that; there was something to be said for Cain. - -“Give you the key of the safe, eh? I was nearly deceived; upon my word, -I was. Now go on with your dusting, little man, and thank your lucky -stars you’re not in prison.” - -Gordon went on with his dusting--he dusted the perspiration from his -brow, and the duster was not particularly clean. The result was -startling. - -“Bobbie!” he wailed. - -Bobbie turned on his heel. - -“Do you want me to kick you?” he demanded. - -Evidently Gordon didn’t. He began to rub the back of a chair listlessly. -He had no heart in his work, and without enthusiasm even dusting is a -failure. - -Bobbie opened the door and found Mr. Superbus sitting on the bottom -stair, manicuring his nails with a clasp-knife. - -“Giving you any trouble, sir?” he asked eagerly, and was disappointed -when Bobbie Selsbury shook his head. - -“None whatever.” He walked back into the room. “Now then, Uncle Isaac, -clear out!” - -“Did he try to escape, sir?” asked the interested custodian. - -Bobbie laughed his Cain and Abel laugh. His brother wondered where -Diana kept her little gun. - -“Did he try to escape? I should jolly well say he did!” said Bobbie. -“Look after him, Mr. Superbus. You have in your able hands a man of -singular cunning and resource.” - -Mr. Superbus shook his head sorrowfully. - -“You’re a naughty old Uncle Isaac, that’s what you are,” he said. “I’m -surprised at you.” - -Gordon collected his dusters and staggered from the room. He was at the -end of his dream. - -“I’m a naughty old Uncle Isaac,” he moaned. “I’m a naughty old Uncle -Isaac!” - -His moan came up from the deep recesses of the kitchen. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - - -“Bobbie!” - -The girl came toward him with both hands outstretched. Behind her in the -hall he saw a strange shadow. - -“Hullo, dear! I came as soon as you wanted me, I hope?” - -Mr. Dempsi was now visible. His black sombrero gave him a sinister -appearance. His voice was querulous, his manner menacing. - -“Dear?” he asked deeply. “Who calls you ‘dear’? What is this man to you, -Diana?” - -“My dear Mr. Dempsi,” she said wearily, “this gentleman.” - -But he was furious; flung his hat on the ground and swung his cloak from -him with the air of a _capelerro_. Bobbie expected to see a belt with -knives and pistols--the poker dot waistcoat was an anticlimax. - -“I will not endure it,” he stormed. “Do you hear, sir? You address this -lady as dear--explain!” - -She saved Bobbie the trouble. - -“This is Mr. Selsbury, my cousin.” Diana was dangerously quiet. Probably -Mr. Dempsi, from his long acquaintance with her, recognised the signs. - -“Ah! Your cousin! I see the likeness. The same beautiful eyes, the same -firm but gentle mouth. The slight figure, the lovely hand----” - -Bobbie was annoyed. - -“Thank you very much, but when you’ve finished cataloguing my features -and describing my delectable points, perhaps you’ll tell me who you -are?” - -He was antagonistic, and he needed no introduction. For he knew the -bearded man, and shared the spurious Gordon’s resentment and utter -dislike. - -“This is Mr. Dempsi,” said Diana. “You’ve heard me speak of him?” - -There was an appeal in her eyes which Bobbie could not resist. He made a -show of being happy to meet Mr. Dempsi. As an effort of simulation it -was a failure. - -“Won’t you change your coat, Wop--Wopsy--upstairs?” she suggested. - -Dempsi kissed her hand. - -“My beloved--I go. Your word is law! Sir--cousin--Bobbie, forgive me.” - -Bobbie forced a smile of friendliness. His gentle cousin thought he was -ill. - -Mr. Dempsi went singing up the stairs: _Donna e mobile_ was the song. He -sang it happily and flatly, as though his throat rebelled against this -rejoicing in the fickleness of woman. - -“Suffering cats!” said Bobbie, awe-stricken. “Is that the First Love?” - -She nodded. - -“And is that his style of conversation--a bit wearing, isn’t it?” - -“Wearing? Bobbie, he’s just like that to every man who looks at me! He’s -changed in appearance--I suppose six years makes an awful difference. I -used to think there was room for nothing but improvement, for he was -only a boy then. But, oh, Bobbie, he’s worse! He wanted to strangle the -waiter at the Ritz-Carlton at lunch because he was rather good-looking -and had a sense of humour--he smiled when I made a feeble joke. And, -Bobbie, Double Dan----” - -She saw that Bobbie knew, and sighed gratefully. Bobbie was to be a -tower of strength: she had guessed that all along. - -“He’s here,” said the young man. - -“You’ve seen him? Thank heavens! He _is_ like Gordon, isn’t he? The -make-up is astounding. I’ve tried to find out the secret. But he’s so -useful about the house. That alone betrays him. Gordon lived in the -clouds, where there were no laundry bills and no patent sweepers. And he -came in time to be Uncle Isaac. No, we haven’t any real Uncle Isaac, but -he served beautifully, and, what is more, he brought with him a -perfectly good aunt----” - -“The audacious scoundrel!” Bobbie cried wrathfully. “Why, do you know, -he nearly deceived me? I wasn’t as clever as you. I talked with him for -ten minutes about his troubles. He’s evidently studied every detail of -appearance and association. And he makes no mistakes--he called me -Bobbie the first time he saw me.” - -“He called me Diana. But he didn’t deceive me--not for a moment,” said -the girl, flopping into Gordon’s big chair. “This morning I caught him -trying to get into Gordon’s dressing-room! He has to be watched day and -night, and of course he has a perfectly good excuse for everything he -does. He said he wanted some clothes!” - -Bobbie thought that a desire to change into clothing less vocal than -the suit he was wearing was not reprehensible even in Double Dan. But -the audacity of the man! - -“The villain! I wish to heaven I hadn’t gone to Ostend.” - -She reminded herself that she must ask him why he went at all. That -could wait, however. - -“I had to arrange everything on the spot,” she said, going back to the -hectic moments of Saturday. “Luckily I remembered that little man’s -’phone number--you weren’t here when he told me? Hate, hate, ho, -Ammersmith. Then I had to invent a story--oh, positively dozens of -stories! They weren’t lies--just expedients. The stroke of genius was -the one about Uncle Isaac being eccentric. Happily Dempsi loves him.” - -“Who?” asked the startled Bobbie. “Not Uncle Isaac surely? He gave me -the impression--but that was in his rôle of Gordon--that he hated him.” - -“No, I mean Superbus. He took to him at once--it was the sort of thing -he would do. He kept white mice when he was a boy and adored them! -Dempsi thinks that he and Mr. Superbus must have both descended from -Julius Cæsar. He spent all the morning in the book room searching for -Cæsar’s Life.” - -“How does Double Dan accept your treatment of him--and your discovery -that he was a fake?” - -“That is the surprising thing,” said Diana in wonder. “He was meekness -itself--I never saw a man so quickly accept a situation as he did.” - -“And the perfectly good aunt?” - -Diana shrugged. - -“She was difficult. That is natural, being a woman. But she is tame now. -I called her Aunt Lizzie to save a scandal. But”--her voice -sank--“they’re not married!” - -Bobbie tried hard to look surprised. - -“Aren’t they?” - -Diana shook her head. There was some good Puritan blood in the Fords. -Bobbie never received evidence of its presence without a little shock of -surprise. - -“No! Isn’t it terrible? They’re not married. They are not even engaged: -I could tell that by the way she orders him about. She does so with the -air of a woman who has nothing to lose. But I’m determined on one thing. -I thought it out before I went to bed. He shall marry her before he -leaves this house! She has been hopelessly compromised. This adventure -shall have one good result.” - -Bobbie was not enthusiastic. - -“I shouldn’t meddle if I were you,” he said, but made no impression on -her. - -Gordon Selsbury came into the room unnoticed. He carried a dustpan and a -short-handled broom. He stood for a while irresolutely, neither of the -pair noticing him. Then: - -“Have you heard from Gordon?” - -Her face lit up. - -“I’ve had the loveliest wires from him. Really he has been most -thoughtful! The dear man has telegraphed from almost every station.” - -Bobbie coughed. - -“Somehow I thought he would,” he said. - -She was searching her handbag and brought out a folded paper. - -“Here is the last, from Crewe; it didn’t arrive until ten o’clock this -morning. ‘Having a comfortable journey. Hope everything is going -smoothly--Gordon.’” - -Bobbie sat up. - -“Oh, I say, that’s too bad,” he protested warmly--too warmly, he -realised. “I mean, it’s too bad that didn’t arrive until to-day. Write -to the Post Office.” - -Gordon growled under his breath, and took another step into the room. -Diana saw him, but made no sign. He was one with the furniture. - -“If he’d only stay away for another week!” she sighed. - -It was the opportunity for which Bobbie had hoped. - -“You know, old Gordon isn’t such a bad chap,” he said. “I know one’s -first impression is that he is a terrible prig, and his manner is bad, I -admit; and he’s a thought conceited. These intellectuals are. Though -why, I’ve never understood.” - -She shook her head. Evidently she had already found excuses for Gordon, -and there was no need for his championship. - -“Conceited? But most men are, don’t you think? I wouldn’t call it -conceit--he’s a little self-important, that’s all.” - -The hand that wielded the broom trembled, the dust-pan wobbled. - -“Yes, I suppose that’s what he is,” said Bobbie thoughtfully. “Gordon -was rather spoilt as a kid, and that makes a man a little -self-important.” - -“And pharisaical, don’t you think?” suggested Diana, considering. “I -ought not to say anything unkind. Really I’m not. He isn’t any worse for -our frankness.” - -Mr. Gordon Selsbury half rose from his knees, his mouth working, his -face pale with fury. - -“I’m inclined to agree with you,” said Bobbie regretfully. “And poor old -Gordon _has_ faults.” - -“The faults of age,” said Diana. “He’s the sort of man who has been -forty-five ever since he was born; but, thank God, he’s not flighty!” -she added piously. - -The sweeper nodded in agreement, but his faint smile was to vanish. - -“Don’t put any man on a pedestal, my dear,” said Bobbie in the paternal -manner. - -“Sneak!” said Gordon fiercely but inaudibly. - -“The best of men make mistakes,” the traitor brother continued. “His -very innocence is a disadvantage. I could well imagine that a woman with -the right line of talk could twist him round her little finger!” - -She dissented. Diana had her own views, and they were mainly unbendable. - -“If I were his wife I should trust Gordon, Bobbie,” she said seriously. -“He’s the very soul of honour. Whatever you say of Gordon, you’ve got -to admit he’s that. He wouldn’t do anything undignified or vulgar. I -could imagine many things, but I could not imagine Gordon going to -Ostend, even in a mood of theosophical ecstasy, without a chaperone.” - -Bobbie shifted uneasily. He was by nature honest, in spite of his being -a tea-broker. There were certain fundamentals in his code with which he -could not dispense, even to shield Gordon. - -“N-no, perhaps not,” he said. - -She smiled scornfully. - -“Perhaps! You know he wouldn’t, Bobbie! I can’t think of his doing a -thing like that. Why, Gordon is the very antithesis of vulgarity! Could -you imagine him engaged in a clandestine friendship with a woman like -Aunt Lizzie? It is absurd. Can you imagine him walking into this house -with a strange female and pretending that he doesn’t know her when he is -detected? I should imagine not!” - -Still Bobbie had a duty to perform. - -“I think you’re mad to trust any man absolutely,” he said firmly. “No -man is worthy of that confidence.” - -She laughed. - -“You’re a cynical bachelor.” - -A voice came from the background. An indignant and an emphatic voice. - -“That is just what I say,” said Gordon. “I can’t imagine a more immoral -point of view, striking at the very roots--er--um----” - -He almost cringed under Diana’s gaze. - -“How dare you interrupt?” she demanded. - -“I--er--I----” - -Bobbie took a hand. - -“Now see here, my friend, you take my advice and drop this pretence,” he -said gravely. “You will deceive nobody--though I can understand why you -have not given up hope--and you may get yourself into very serious -trouble. If I had my way, you would be in that position at this moment, -but my cousin, for an excellent reason, has refrained from handing you -over to the police. That generosity ought to be appreciated by you.” - -Gordon set his teeth, cast broom and brush to the devil and leapt up. - -“I don’t care--I will tell the truth,” he said doggedly. “In spite of -everything--in spite of all appearances, I am Gordon Selsbury.” - -He looked round: Superbus was at the door, a buff envelope in his hand. -It was no use; he went down on his knees and groped for the dustpan. He -was beaten. - -“A wire for you, ma’am. I never knew they came on Sunday.” - -She took the envelope and tore it open. - -“Another! ‘Aberdeen. Very good journey and looking forward to my return. -Gordon.’” - -Bobbie gaped. - -“What an artist!” he said. - -She turned on him with a frown. - -“I say, what a nasty journey!” corrected Bobbie. - -She nodded slowly, thoughtfully. - -“Do you know, I’m beginning to feel quite different toward Gordon,” she -said. - -The sweeper sat up on his heels expectantly. For a second she became -conscious of his presence. - -“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked coldly. - -“Nothing--nothing.” The despairing man stooped to his task. - -“Where is your--your accomplice?” she asked. - -Gordon turned his head. - -“She’s reading--‘How to be Happy though Married,’” he said cynically. - -Kindness was wasted on such a man. - -“What are you going to do with Dempsi?” asked Bobbie, leaning across and -dropping his voice. - -She made a little face. - -“I’m in despair, Bobbie. I can’t count on his losing himself again. The -only thing he shows any signs of losing is his head--and I never knew -him when he had one worth losing. Well?” - -It was Superbus again. She wished he wouldn’t put his hand on his heart -before he bowed. - -“That parson gentleman’s called again,” he said in a hoarse whisper. -“He’s the Vicar of Banhurst.” - -Superbus was country-bred and was schooled in the values of -ecclesiastical rank. The Vicar of Banhurst was a person of eminence. To -Diana he was part of the marriage trap. The steel grille that would cut -her off from freedom. She was panic-stricken by his very presence in the -house. - -“Tell him I’m ill,” she said frantically. “Tell him--I’m--I’m very ill. -Ask him to come to-morrow. And please, please don’t tell Mr. Dempsi he -is here.” - -“He said if you’d call him up--” Superbus offered tentatively the -clerical card. She waved it away. - -“I don’t want his address--I don’t _want_ it!” - -Mr. Superbus did his bow and went out. Her face was the picture of woe. - -“Bobbie, what am I to do? That’s the third time he’s called to-day.” - -“Who is he?” - -“The clergyman. Dempsi’s idea! He thinks our marriage is a matter of -hours! It is so like Dempsi, so absurdly, so tragically mad; but he’d -hardly been with me two minutes before he told me he was sending for the -parson to ‘make us one’! And I know which one! I read the review of a -book to-day by a man whose name I forget. It doesn’t matter. He says -that there are conditions in which assassination is the purest and -noblest expression of public sentiment. Will you get it for me?” - -“But he couldn’t marry you in the evening,” persisted Bobbie. “It is -against the law.” - -She was darkly amused. - -“Against the law! What is a little thing like that to Dempsi? He is the -law!” - -“It seems a simple matter to get him away.” Bobbie searched his mind for -a solution. “Have you any plan?” - -Had she any plan? Was there a moment of consciousness in the day that -she did not form a new scheme to rid herself of her electric incubus? - -“I’ve a hundred, and they’re all futile and foolish. I thought of -running away. That seems about the only sane idea I have had.” - -“Running away? To where?” he asked. - -“To Scotland. To join Gordon.” - -Bobbie jumped up, a very perturbed young man. - -“You mustn’t do that!” he cried. “Whatever you do, don’t do that, Diana! -In the first place, none of us knows where he is; in the second -place--well ... I shouldn’t do it.” - -Her eyebrows rose. - -“Why not? I could tell Gordon the whole truth, and I’m sure he would be -nice and sympathetic. I feel very sure of Gordon in a great crisis like -this--it is a very dear feeling to have.” She smiled a little -pathetically. - -“Suppose Dempsi followed you--and he certainly would,” urged Bobbie. -“Suppose he found that you’d deceived him, and came upon you on the -moors with Gordon?” - -The smile deepened; into her eyes came a faraway look. - -“That’s an idea. Gordon would have his gun on the moors,” she said. -“Hush! Here he comes.” - -Bobbie had agreed readily to stay the night, for the great Superbus was -tired, being human, as he explained, and having only one pair of eyes -that needed rest. - -There was a slight scene at dinner (Heloise cooked this, and Diana’s -respect for her increased). - -Dempsi, in his most extravagant mood, called for wine. He wanted wine, -red wine--to drink the health of his bride. He demanded that it be red -and rosy. That it bubbled with the laughter of sunny vineyards. That its -hue be as of the warm, rich blood of youth, palpitating, pulsing, -seething with love. This he said in so many words. Bobbie said something -terse and offensive, and offered him a whisky and soda. Mr. Dempsi -looked black, and Diana hastily intervened. But she might as well have -attempted to stay the tide of time. Dempsi made a remarkably quick -recovery; spoke tremulously of his happiness; kissed Diana’s hand; gave -her for the third time the history of his life. - -When he lay in the foul huts of the natives, recovering from his fever, -when he searched the world through for traces of his lost love, when, -under the starry skies of the Australian bush, he pressed on -desperately, doggedly, unflinchingly, following the trail of his divine -lady--this was the thought he had--Diana! That some day she should be -his! The past sad years should be blotted out and forgotten. All the -misery of life would vanish as in a cloud. - -“Rot!” said Bobbie. - -Mr. Dempsi dissolved into tears. - -“Really, Diana, I can’t stand that fellow,” said Bobbie, when the -devoted lover had flooded from the room. - -Diana lay back limp in her chair, fanning herself with her handkerchief. - -“Bobbie, he’s--he’s terrible!” she moaned. “Bobbie, there must be some -other solution than murder?” - -Mr. Dempsi, in his temperamental way, recovered his equilibrium before -he had crossed the hall. Julius Superbus was making up The Study fire as -he came in--Dempsi went straight to him, laid his hand on his shoulder, -too overcome for speech. - -“Ah, my friend!” he murmured. - -Julius, at a loss for a suitable response, played for safety. - -“Good-evening, sir,” he said, and patted his fellow Roman on the head. - -“The one friend I have in this house--the one understanding soul! The -one honest creature that is faithful to my memory.” - -Mr. Dempsi invariably spoke of himself as though he had recently -returned from a brief holiday in heaven. - -“I wouldn’t say that, sir,” said Julius generously. “There are others.” - -“I do say it! I, Guiseppi Dempsi! Who denies my right?” he demanded -fiercely. - -Julius backed off. - -“Not me, sir, I’m sure,” he said hastily. “It’s the last thing in the -world I’d dream of doing.” - -Guiseppi grew gentle again. - -“The moment I saw you, I said: ‘Here is a man with vision, a big man, a -man of sensibility! Superbus has a heart, feeling, _simpatico_--a man of -affairs, a keen-eyed officer of the law!” - -Mr. Superbus moved uneasily. He had all an amateur detective’s fear of -misrepresentation. He coughed. - -“Not exactly an officer of the law, sir. In a sense I am, and in a sense -I’m not, though I used to be when I was a bailiff in the County Court.” - -Dempsi smiled. - -“But now you are a detective. A disciple of the immortal Holmes--what a -man, what ingenuity! You are this--you told me?” - -Julius hastened to correct a wrong impression. - -“Private, sir, private. As I explained to you, sir, I was brought -in----” - -Dempsi never allowed anybody else to talk. - -“To watch for a despicable scoundrel,” said Dempsi hotly. “That such -should be at liberty! Double Dan! Even his name is deplorable! Ah! You -are surprised that I have heard of this violator of sanctuaries? You -clever detective, you are astounded and flabbergasted that I also know -of this pestiferous brigand? Superbus, I ask a favour: when you have -discovered him, send for me.” - -There was a significant glitter in his eyes. His half-closed hands -already dripped with the blood of his victim. Mr. Superbus was -spellbound. - -“Send for me,” repeated Dempsi deliberately. “I haven’t killed a man for -years. But I will not speak of that. I am too sorry for his wife and -family. I have a tender heart.” He gazed at Julius in admiration. “So -you are a detective! One of that great and silent army of watchers, -everlastingly on duty, standing between peaceable citizens like Guiseppi -Dempsi and the vultures who prey upon society!” - -Dempsi held out his hand. Mr. Superbus, his eyes modestly lowered, took -it. He felt for once that he was being taken at a proper valuation. -Dempsi was a man of the world, a Sir Hubert whose praise was praise -indeed. Julius made a mental note of the words for future exhibition. - -At any moment Dempsi might switch off to an unimportant subject. - -“Yes, it is a bit of a job,” agreed Julius. “The public don’t -understand.” - -“They wouldn’t,” said Mr. Dempsi scornfully. - -“We take some risks,” Mr. Superbus went on. “You can’t get about town -without taking risks--I was nearly run over by a ’bus yesterday.” - -Dempsi was impressed. - -“No!” - -Julius nodded. - -“I was--in the execution of me duty,” he said. “I saw a suspicious -looking man--he looked like a fellow that had been owing me money for -years--and crossed the road to have a look at him.” His gesture -suggested a swerving motor ’bus. “As near as that,” he said simply but -impressively. - -Dempsi shuddered appropriately. - -“Ah, it is fine work! Have you brought many men to justice? I see you -have, but it is too painful to talk about. I understand your fine -feelings--you are worthy.” - -“Well, I’ve brought them to the County Court,” said Julius. “That’s not -exactly to justice. People who can’t pay their bills and owe tradesmen -money.” - -The other regarded him in awe. - -“I wonder you can sleep at night,” he said in a hushed voice. - -Julius smiled callously. He suggested thereby that the ruin of small -litigants meant less to him than the indubitable fact that flies have -corns and suffer from asthma. - -“They never get on my mind,” he said; “and as for sleeping--I’m a -pretty good sleeper; nothing disturbs me.” - -He hoped, at any rate, that nothing would disturb him that night, for he -was sleeping on a made-up bed in The Study. It was Diana’s idea and he -viewed all Diana’s ideas with a suspicion which was, it must be -confessed, justifiable. - -“Ah, a good conscience!” said Dempsi. “What a beautiful thing!” - -Mr. Superbus wasn’t sure whether this admirable characteristic of his -was due entirely to conscience. - -“A good digestion’s got something to do with it,” he said. “I’m a -careful feeder.” - -“Tell me,” said Dempsi confidentially, “have you served her long--my -queen?” - -Mr. Superbus called up to memory his acquaintance with contemporary -history. - -“I thought you had a king in Italy?” he said. - -Dempsi laughed. - -“No, no, you mistake me--my sweet lady--my Diana?” he asked softly. “I -am jealous of your privilege in serving her.” - -“Oh, you mean ma’am? No, I’ve only just got to know her.” - -Dempsi changed the subject abruptly. - -“I will go to bed. To-night there is no lock upon my door. If Double Dan -comes, you will let me know?” - -He need not ask that question. Given consciousness and the ability to -scream, all the house would know from Julius that the monster had -arrived. - -“Why, certainly. But I can manage him.” - -Dempsi bit his lower lip, viewing his friend thoughtfully. - -“Yes, yes, I shall know the moment the firing starts--at the first bang -I will be by your side.” - -Julius turned white. In moments of great excitement all great Romans go -white. Cæsar Borgia had that failing. And for the matter of that, so had -Nero, the celebrated fire-bug. - -“Firing?” he asked faintly. - -Dempsi nodded. - -“He is armed--certain to be. But remember this--and let it be in your -mind all the time; the thought may comfort you--when you fall I shall be -ready to take your place.” - -Julius stretched his neck forward. - -“When--when I fall?” he said unsteadily. “I’m not likely to fall if I -keep to the carpets--it’s the par-kay that does me in.” - -“You will look up and see me”--Dempsi obviously relished the picture he -drew--“perhaps the last thing you will ever see on earth--standing over -your prostrate body, pierced, my poor Superbus, by a dozen bullets. I -shall be there, face to face with your murderer!” - -Julius closed his eyes and his lips moved. Yet he was not at his -devotional exercises. Before his horrified vision spread a veritable -panorama of tragedy with one notable figure in the foreground somewhat -inanimate. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - - -“But you shall not die unavenged, my Superbus!” - -Dempsi’s affectionate hand was on his arm. Julius moved away from the -fire; he had gone suddenly hot. - -“You’re sure he carries firearms?” - -Dempsi nodded. - -“Loaded? That’s against the lore, sir. A man could be pinched for that.” - -Mr. Dempsi treated the matter light-heartedly. Julius could not but feel -that his indifference was almost criminal. - -“Certain,” he said carelessly. “I’ve never met a desperado yet--and I’ve -met a few--that didn’t carry a loaded gun--generally throwing a -hollow-nosed bullet. And they’re pretty good shots.” - -He appeared to take a pride in their marksmanship. Julius leered at -him--there is no other description for the grimace. - -“Yes, I suppose so,” he said huskily. “Of course, my good lady----” - -Dempsi did not let him finish. He became suddenly serious as though the -gravity of the situation had forced itself upon him. - -“Your wife? Have no fear, Superbus,” he said quickly. “She shall never -want. I will make it my business to see that she is provided for. And -your deed shall be commemorated: I promise you that. I myself have -suffered from a thoughtless failure to immortalise my name. I have in my -mind a great tablet of black marble, chaste of design. Simple yet grand. -Plain, yet in a sense decorative. And an inscription in letters of gold: - - “‘To the memory of Julius Superbus, - A Hero, a Gentleman and a Roman.’” - -His voice trembled as he spoke. Already he stood before the monument in -tears. Julius wiped the perspiration from his pale face. - -“Yes, very pretty,” he said, and now his hoarseness was chronic. “As I -was saying, my good lady will be pleased. She always had a good opinion -of me, though she’s never mentioned it. But at the same time, though I’m -very much obliged to you, and nobody could be kinder about it----” - -“Can’t you see her standing reading the inscription?” asked Dempsi in a -hushed voice. “Can’t you imagine her looking up to the slab--fixed in a -respectable church, perhaps under a stained-glass window--with proud, -shining eyes, her children by her side----” - -“I haven’t got any children,” said Julius loudly. - -Dempsi spread out his expressive hands. - -“She may marry again,” he said considerately. “She is probably in the -prime of life. There may still be happiness for her.” - -Mr. Superbus sat down limply. - -“You ain’t half putting the wind up me!” he said fretfully. - -Dempsi bent over him, speaking softly. - -“To-night I sleep in sound of your voice. Have no hesitation in calling -me. Perhaps I may arrive in time to save you. I pray that this may be. I -like you. We are--who knows?--kinsmen. He who strikes you, strikes -me--Guiseppi Dempsi.” - -Mr. Superbus got up; his knees were without strength, his tongue was -parched. - -“Well, if you’re sleeping here, and Mr. Bobbie is sleeping here, there -doesn’t seem any call for me to stay, does there? Not that it worries -me. Far from it. Danger is always welcome to a Superbus. It’s my good -lady I’m thinking of. I was going to sleep in this room. Seems silly.” - -“I shall be on hand,” said Mr. Dempsi, and examined the short-barrelled -revolver he had taken from his hip pocket. - -Julius almost swooned. - -“I’m a match for any man of my own weight,” he said, his voice trembling -as he thought of the terrible risk which any burglar of his own weight -would run, “if he’ll only give me a chance. But they don’t give you a -chance. They’re on you before you know where you are--is that fair?” - -Dempsi did not answer. Aunt Lizzie had chosen that moment to wander into -the room. Julius seized the opportunity to steal from the unnecessary -gaiety that shone through Mr. Dempsi’s sympathy--his eagerness to frame -epitaphs which Julius would never see, his cold-blooded plottings for -the future of his good lady. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - - -The atmosphere of a kitchen, however clean and well-ordered it may be, -is calculated to pall on any man of intellect and genius. It needs the -gross mind of a materialist, a man like the husband of Heloise (Gordon’s -expression was one of distaste as he thought of that man) to appreciate -the lingering fragrance of long-baked and long-consumed pies, the -everlasting aroma which the spluttering hot oven has sent forth from -time to time through the years, to permeate the homely furniture, and -through that medium to retain its delicate nidus for the joy of those -lovers of good food to whom such smells were appetising. - -Gordon had read everything that was readable. He had skipped through two -cookery books, and had read the old newspapers in the wood cupboard. The -almanac above the kitchen range he knew by heart, so that he could have -told you the exact date when everybody of importance was born, married -or assassinated. - -Happily, he had seen little of Heloise and less of Diana. At the thought -of Diana his expression changed from one of great sadness to one of -intense malignity. And then he would laugh softly, for, despite all that -had been said (and that in his hearing) he possessed a sense of humour. -How remarkably capable she was! In his bitterest moments this fact -worked out from the confusion of his resentment. And how lovely! Once he -had tried to patronise her ... he blushed at the memory. Suppose he -hadn’t gone away on this mad adventure, would he have recognised all her -excellent qualities as he saw them now? It was doubtful. He was so keyed -up, his nerves were stretched at such tension, that every note of her -was detected and valued. And of course she was behaving in this -outrageous way in his interest. He warmed at this thought. But Dempsi -... his heart went back into the refrigerator. - -The door opened slowly and he looked up, hoping to see the subject of -his thoughts. But he was to be disappointed. It was Heloise. She threw -down the book she was carrying, tore off the selvedge of an old -newspaper that lay on the table, and, by its aid and the kitchen fire, -lit a cigarette. - -He got up from the Windsor chair before the fire, and, without a word of -thanks, she dropped into his place. She smoked, watching the fire. She -was pretty too, but in a harder way. He felt just a little sorry for -her.... - -Presently Gordon broke into her thoughts. - -“You’ve landed me in a pretty fine mess,” he said without heat. - -She looked up at him sideways, flicking the ash from her cigarette with -a cute little snap of her forefinger. - -“_I’ve_ landed _you_!” she said ironically. “I like that--anyway, -there’s no call to get mad, Man.” - -A cold chill ran down his spine at that familiar form of address. - -“I wish you wouldn’t call me Man. It belongs to bobbed hair and empress -gowns and art serge ... and soul.” - -She laughed quietly; she hadn’t laughed for a long time. - -“You used to like me calling you Man--in the days of our spiritual -freedom, when deep called to deep--oh, gee! I forget the mush! And only -two days ago I was word-perfect--knew every line.” - -Gordon rivetted his shocked gaze upon her. - -“I don’t understand ... knew your lines? What do you mean?” - -She was examining the cigarette between her fingers. He had a dreadful -foreboding that a revelation was imminent. - -“I mean all that stuff we used to talk--the O Man! stuff and the O -Woman! stuff. And about our being on planes, and affinities of souls. -My, but I had a bad time trying not to go to sleep. You’re different -now--I kinder like you this way. I’m strong for common sense and nature. -Man! I’ve been the making of you.” - -“The breaking of me, you mean,” he snapped, the old grievance revived. -“If you hadn’t come here, I could have explained everything to -Diana--Miss Ford.” - -“I like ‘Diana’ better,” she said. “That young dame is surely no miss. -She’s either been married or she’s studied first-hand. If I hadn’t -come!” She jerked up her head derisively. - -“Why did you?” he asked. Even now he half believed the story she had -told. Illusions die hard, but she was mercifully sudden. - -“Because my man double-crossed me,” she said coolly. - -Gordon could not believe the evidence of his ears. - -“Your man? Your husband, you mean?” - -She flung away the cigarette, stood up and stretched her hands about her -head. - -“My husband is the straightest thing that ever happened,” she answered. -“I’m talking of Dan--Double Dan, you call him!” - -The tick-tick of the kitchen clock filled the interval. - -“You’re working--with--Double--Dan?” he breathed. Even now he could not -believe her. - -She smiled pityingly. - -“Surely,” she nodded. “Why do you think I allowed myself to be made love -to by you? Be honest with yourself and tell me what there is in your -equipment that a woman could rave about?” - -He stammered a wrathful denial. - -“I didn’t make love to you,” said Gordon hotly. “We talked about things -... and you ... and me--about our tastes....” - -“If you had as much experience as I have,” said Heloise, “you’d know -that that was being made love to.” She nodded wisely. “Maybe you didn’t -know--you know now.” - -Gordon’s anger was rising. - -“We talked on--on a higher plane,” he said sharply. “We talked of ... -imponderable things. There was never ... never a caress. I hardly held -your hand. Do you suggest there was anything in our little talks about -prehistoric creatures,” he sneered, “or in our interchange of thought -about the subconscious ego?” - -To his horror she nodded. - -“Sure! That’s how highbrows make love. When they start in to tell me -about the Dinornis and the Silurian age, I know they got a crush on me.” - -She herself might have been a Dinornis or something equally extinct and -terrible by his attitude toward her. - -“Then it _was_ a plot to get me away?” he asked breathlessly. - -“Didn’t you know?” She was frankly surprised. “You’re a slow -thinker--but you’re right! It was my job to get you away good and safe, -and I could have done it, whilst Double Dan----” - -“Impersonated me!” - -He saw all things clearly. Mysteries were mysteries no more. There was -little left upon which a harassed man need speculate. - -Her face was sombre and brooding. Evidently she was thinking happily. - -“He put one over on me. Gosh! That fellow’s mind is so constructed that -he couldn’t go straight if he was sliding down a tube! And I went into -it with my eyes open--yes, sir. Some of the boys who’d worked with him -and one of his partners told me he’d do it before I left Manhattan -Island. I had my warning--but I’m one of those dames who know it all and -I wouldn’t believe ’em. That’s the kind of mad woman I am. And all they -said came true. Yesterday morning, when everything was fixed for me to -tote you to Ostend, I went to see him to split the Mendlesohn money. No, -I wasn’t in that. But the little friend of mine who brought Father Eli -to the verge of marriage had to go back home. Her eldest boy was ill, -and I advanced her her share. Forty-sixty, that’s how I shared, and how -Freda had arranged to share. And that’s how I paid her--and it was worth -it. Freda put in a whole lot of good, solid work for that guy. Only -interest he had in life was stamps--postal stamps. Freda studied those -darned foolish things so that she jumped every time the postman knocked. -Dan would part on terms--and I’m his friend! Used to be in the same -touring company as me, back home!” - -Gordon was rubbing his head mechanically. - -“Your--your husband, is he?” - -Her scorn was visible. - -“My husband!” she scoffed. “Now listen! I’m a respectable married woman -and you gotta remember that, Man! Married ten years. I’ve the daisiest -little apartment over in New York--and a real nice lovely boy of a -husband.” - -“In New York?” he managed to ask. - -She hesitated. - -“Why, he’s not in New York now: he’s in the State Penitentiary--an -innocent man, as heaven is my judge! You know what these Central Office -men are! They’d swear you into the chair for a nickel. And John could -have got evidence that he was a sleep-walker. Yes, sir. He’s been that -way for years. When the bulls got him in Ackensmidt’s Jewellery Store, -he didn’t know how he got there himself--he’s one of the best singers in -the Sing Sing Glee Party, is John. But he’s due home in a month and -naturally I’m going home to meet him.” - -“But is he a--a thief?” he blurted. - -A pink and angry flush spread on the classic face of Heloise. - -“Say, where did you get all that personal stuff? Thief! John’s no -thief--he’s had a lot of bad luck, I guess. But sleep-walking is at the -bottom of it. When he’s awake he wouldn’t take anything unless he got a -receipt for it. It’s at nights he goes kinder crazy. No, sir, John is a -gentleman--though he’s on the register as a safe and strong-room -expoit--expert.” - -He was calmer now and prepared, if necessary, to enquire into the -profits of the business. - -“He’s a bank-smasher!” he said sagely. “How interesting! And of course -he smashes the banks where he hasn’t a deposit.” - -The futility of his remark was palpable even to himself. - -“Sure thing. That’s what John is. I used to work with him, but it got -him rattled when I was around, so I fixed to work with Dan, who’s a -snake but a workman. I’ll say that for him--he’s all for business. Dan -always treats his partner as a lady. When I’ve said that I come right to -the end of Dan’s attractions.” - -She spoke as an actress might speak about a fellow member of the -cast--without anger, fairly. Gordon stopped strumming funeral marches on -the kitchen table and became alive to the realities. - -“But is Dan coming here?” he asked. “Disguised as me! Is--is that the -game? What a blind idiot I was! And you, of course, were the decoy ... -and all that soul stuff, as you call it, was----?” - -“Bunk,” she said. “It would have been bunk anyway if I’d meant it. That -kind of talk is never anything else.” - -He was still helplessly puzzled. - -“But ... why did you come here?” - -“Because I want my money back--the money I advanced to my little friend. -And he just wouldn’t split with me. Said he hadn’t got Mendlesohn’s -cheque--can’t you see Dan taking cheques? Said he was short of -money--that fellow has got Ananias down for the count. Yes, sir. Why, he -was so stuffed with bills you couldn’t touch him without he crackled! He -had so much money he had to carry it under his arm! When I told him I -wouldn’t go on till he’d settled the old account, he told me to go to -blue blazes. Or some place. Said I’d no right to pay the girl, and that -he’d finish the job without me. But he won’t!” - -Gordon glowered down on her. - -“Why do you tell me this? Don’t you realise that you’ve placed yourself -in my hands?” he asked. “I have only to ’phone the police and you’re -finished!” - -She was not perturbed. - -“Man, you’ve got a head like a haunted house! Forget it--Uncle Isaac!” - -He wilted under the blow. Uncle Isaac! He was in a hopeless position. - -“How shall I recognise him--this Double Dan--when he comes? When do you -expect him?” - -Whatever happened, Double Dan’s scheme should be brought to failure, he -decided. - -“Why, Dan sort of happens naturally,” she said lazily. “I lift my tile -to him every time. He is certainly the most artistic guy in the -business. I can’t let my feelings prejudice me. He a great artist. The -Lord didn’t give him any ideas about simple division, but we’re not all -born mathematicians. You’ll not know him when he comes. He doesn’t -always pretend to be the sucker he’s robbing. Sometimes he’s a butler.” - -Gordon started. Superbus! Yet it seemed impossible that a man could sink -so low that he would impersonate the Roman. - -“You mean--our stout friend the detective?” - -“Well, I’ve known him before to make up like a detective who’s watching -for him, and, what’s more, get away with it. It’s one of Dan’s -favourite disguises, and he’s got others. I’m giving you a million -dollars’ worth of information, Man. You ought to thank me on your knees, -but you won’t. Another good one of his is to be a visiting -clergyman--that’s one of his best. He told me once that he’d made a -quarter of a million dollars out of the church.” - -“A minister--there’s been one here to-day,” said Gordon thoughtfully. -“Why don’t you turn King’s evidence against him?” - -“State’s evidence, I guess that means? No, sir. That means nothing to -me, and you’re insulting me by suggesting it. This is a private matter -between D. D. and H. C.--Chowster is my name--my father was a Reverend -Chowster of Minneapolis and I’m a high-school girl and don’t forget it. -Anyway, I’m just too much of a lady to start makin’ entries in the -squeal book. Birth and education count for something, Man.” - -He covered his face with his hands. - -“What a fool I’ve been, what a fool!” he groaned. - -Heloise looked at him: in this mood he was interesting. - -“Why, I guess every man’s a fool--he’s born that way, and has got -twen’y years to pull himself right before some woman comes along and -spoils his chance. I used to know a boy in Ontario, where I was -born--Minneapolis, I mean--who got right after he was married, but he -was an exception. And he’d done the mischief then.” - -“I’ll not stand it,” said Gordon between his teeth. “Whatever happens, -I’m going to put a spoke in the wheel of this Double Dan.” - -“You don’t say?” She was politely intrigued. - -“Am I going to remain quietly by and see a couple of crooks----” - -“Oh, say!” she protested. - -“--robbing society with impunity?” - -“That’s fine. And if Dan gets busy he’ll rob with any old thing that’s -handy. He’s a genius that way. My John says that Dan could open a safe -with a hairpin----” - -“I’ll report this to the police,” said Gordon firmly. “I was a fool not -to take this step before. It may mean exposure, it may mean social ruin; -it will certainly mean....” He stopped before he came to the possible -effect upon Diana. “I’ll have you both in gaol--both of you.” - -She was unaffected by his fury. - -“Honey bunch, oh honey!” she cooed. “Don’t get mad, baby!” - -He turned on her in fury. - -“You’ve done your best to make Miss Ford think I’m--I’m something to -you. I would have forgiven you everything but that.” - -“Well, ain’t you?” she drawled. “Ah, peachy boy, don’t be mad at your -little snookums! Smile, baby, show little toothsies.” - -Diana, in the opening of the kitchen door, heard only this. - -“Will you kindly reserve your love-making until you are out of my -house?” she asked severely. - -At the sound of her voice Gordon reeled. The final straw had dropped -brutally upon a camel, already over-burdened. - -“Why, I don’t know,” said Heloise, her insolent gaze turned on the -intruder. “It seems to me that a cook’s got a right to a li’l bit of -love, honey? I’ll admit that Uncle Isaac ain’t so cute as darling Wopsy. -But he’s a real nice boy in Aunt Lizzie’s eyes.” - -Gordon would have intervened, but his spirit was broken. He slunk into -the scullery and dropped his aching head upon the knife-machine. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - - -For once Diana was silenced. It was absurd that she should attempt to -justify herself to a woman of this character. Yet she did. - -“Mr. Dempsi is--is a very dear friend. To compare your--oh, it’s -horrible!” - -She was sickened--the realisation of her own hypocrisy did not lessen -the nausea. There was no comparison. Of the two men, Double Dan was the -more appealing. - -No index of her mind went unread by the shrewd watcher. - -“I gotta stick by this anyhow. It’s no vacation for me,” said Heloise -with a sigh. - -The effect was magical--the frown vanished from Diana’s face and a soft -light came to her eyes. - -“I’m sorry for you sometimes,” she said. - -Heloise raised her left shoulder. - -“Why, I’m sorry most times. Gee! It’s a helluva life,” she said -bitterly. - -Diana’s heart went out to the woman. Her loneliness, the atmosphere of -tragedy which now enveloped her, called for tenderness and help. - -“I ought to have realised that,” she said gently. “I’m sorry I was -sharp.” - -The great strategist is he who recognises the moment when his enemy is -wavering. Heloise brought up her heavy guns. - -“I was a good woman before I met him,” she said with a little sob. -Gordon, a horrified listener, came gasping into the kitchen. - -“You--you----!” - -“Silence!” - -Under the flashing eyes of Diana Ford his courage failed. Like the -fisherman’s wife, he could only stand and watch and suffer. - -“He just naturally dragged me down.” Heloise was playing for safety and -freedom, and she was a champion player. - -Diana’s voice quivered as she turned on the shrinking man. - -“You brute! To think that a man like you should be allowed to prey upon -humanity! I suspected something like this! You are a human tiger, unfit -to live--Why don’t you leave him, Heloise?” she asked tenderly. - -Heloise wiped her eyes and sniffed. - -“He’s got me--so.” She put down her thumb suggestively. “That kind of -man doesn’t let up on a woman once she’s in his power. She’s his till -doom.” - -Gordon shuffled his feet and she stepped back, fear in her face. - -“Don’t let him touch me!” she cried in terror. - -In another second Diana’s arm was about her. - -“Stand back,” she said sternly. “Does he--does he strike you?” - -Heloise nodded with just that show of reluctance that was so convincing. - -“I’m just black and blue sometimes,” she wept. “He’ll beat me for this, -sure. Don’t trouble about me, Miss Ford--I’m naturally worthless. I must -stand by Dan to the end of the chapter--heaven help me!” - -“You villain!” The girl was in tears too. Gordon was beyond weeping. -“But why can’t you leave him?” Diana’s voice was low and vibrant. “Are -you married?” - -The slow smile that dawned on the sad face told its own black story. - -“That kinder man doesn’t marry,” said Heloise quietly. - -The basilisk glare of Diana’s eyes turned to Gordon, dumb and -motionless. - -“But he shall!” she said slowly. - -Heloise went swiftly past her and fell on her knees at Gordon’s feet. He -did not even attempt to draw his hands away when she clutched them. This -nightmare would pass--he was sure of that. Monstrous things like this -did not happen in a well-ordered world. He had only to keep quiet and -calm and presently Trenter’s voice would say: “Eight o’clock, sir; I’m -afraid it is raining.” Trenter always apologised for the weather. And he -would open his eyes.... - -Through the haze of his dream came the moaning sound of Heloise -pleading. - -“Dan, you heard what the good young lady said. Marry me, Dan--won’t you -marry me?” - -Gordon smiled foolishly. To Diana it was devilish. - -“Make me like I was when you took me from my li’l Connecticut home,” -sobbed Heloise. Not for nothing had she played a small town tour with -that masterpiece _Rich Men and Poor Women_. “Don’t you see it, Dan? The -old farm an’ the old cows comin’ along the boardwalk, an’ can’t you hear -the cracked bell of the chapel, an’ don’t you remember my old mother -sittin’ right there on the porch read’n’ the good old Book? Make it come -back again, Dan.” - -Her voice rose to a thin, agonized wail. For a second Gordon returned to -near normal. - -“What do you mean by this tomfoolery?” he squeaked, trying to disengage -his hand. - -“Man!” Diana was unconscious of the plagiarism. “Be careful!” - -He shook his head. - -“I tell you----” - -“You shall marry her!” - -“I--I can’t--I won’t.... I’ll see you all to the devil.” - -Heloise cowered under the stroke of fate. - -“You promised me, Dan! You promised me! You’re not going back on your -word? Dan, say it ain’t true--it’s not true, Dan?” - -It was terrible, thought Diana, her heart broken by the woman’s woe. - -“You don’t mean it, Dan, do you? It’s only your joking way?” Gordon -showed his teeth in a fiendish grimace. “Ah, I can see you smiling. I -can see the li’l twinkle in your eye! We’ll quit this business like this -pretty young lady says an’ shake the whole outfit, won’t we, Dan? And -I’ll be just your li’l wife sittin’ on the back porch, whilst you’re -mixin’ the hen-feed in the garden.” - -“Damn the hen-feed!” he yelled. “Curse you and your back porch! I won’t -marry you. Diana, can’t you see that she’s a fake? She’s acting! I’m -nothing to her!” - -“He spurns me,” groaned Heloise, and fell prostrate to the floor. -Instantly Diana was beside her and had raised the bowed head. - -“Come with me, my dear. Appeal is wasted on a man like that. Ah, you can -laugh!” - -“I’m not laughing,” said Gordon indignantly. “What the devil is there to -laugh at? If I laughed at anybody I would laugh at you, you ... you -booby!” - -She cast upon him one harrowing glance of contempt, and then devoted her -attention to the girl. - -“If I gave you the money to get to your home, would you go?” - -Heloise nodded weakly. - -“You shall have it to-morrow. Come with me.” - -Heloise gently freed herself of the detaining arm. - -“No--no, I’ll stay,” she said brokenly. “I guess there’s something I -want to say to Dan, something that I want no other woman to hear.” - -Diana went pale. - -“I think I understand,” she said quietly, and went out, closing the door -softly behind her. - -Heloise waited, crept to the door and listened before she spun round, -joy in her face. - -“Whoop-ee!” She danced round the kitchen. “I got my fare! I got my fare! -Oh boy, some leading woman! Heloise, your salary is raised and your -name’s in lights.” - -“You, you wicked woman!” gasped Gordon. “How dare you--how dare you!” - -“Aw, listen!” Hand on hip, she faced him, looking from under her curling -lashes. “I gotta get somethin’ on the side. Be reasonable, Man. I’m -broke--I couldn’t raise two dollars. Suppose Dan does pay up--where’s my -transportation coming from? Have a heart, birdie.” - -“You’ve deceived Miss Ford.” - -“Now listen to Holy Mike! Haven’t you deceived her? Anyway, you don’t -deserve a nice li’l girl like that. Don’t think I despise her because -she’s easy. That’s a real nice girl. You lied when you said you were -married--you may be, but it is not to Diana. And never will be. She’s -got brains.” - -He strode up and down the kitchen with furious strides, muttering under -his breath. Presently he confronted her. - -“You take away my character--you accuse me of the most abominable acts. -You swear away my reputation in a most disgraceful manner. I am Double -Dan in her eyes.” - -She had found and lit another cigarette and was sitting on the table, -her feet swinging. - -“Gee, you’ve gotta get a sense of humour, boy,” she said good-naturedly. -“You’re too serious, that’s what’s wrong with you! She’s a good dresser -too--that gown she was wearing this afternoon certainly made me feel -old.” - -He was cooling down now. The uselessness of argument or appeal was so -apparent that he fell into her mood. - -“I shall finish in a lunatic asylum,” he said, “just as surely as Double -Dan will finish in jail.” - -“Don’t you worry. The li’l game is going to end very soon. I’m through. -John’s due home in a fortnight, and I’m just longing for the smell of -rubber an’ oil an’ breakfast. That’s what a ship smells like to me. I’m -going to have it out with Dan.” - -“You mean, he is coming--that we shall meet?” asked Gordon eagerly. - -“We shall meet and he shall part,” she said cryptically, “that’s what. -The poor Limburger! And he’s going to split fair. Did he think I’d sit -down an’ take his twen’y-eighty? No, sir. As a woman the idea revolts -me. I was brought up in a strict fifty-fifty school!” - -Gordon was himself again. - -“Now I warn you this matter has gone as far as it is going,” he said -impressively. “There are fifty thousand dollars in The Study safe, and -I’ve no doubt in my mind that that is his objective, though how he came -to know this----” - -“Fifty thousand!” she breathed. “That explains everything! You told me -in one of your heart-to-heart talks that you always kept a thousand -pounds, but not----” - -“This money was drawn to pay an American,” said Gordon impatiently. -“There is no reason why I should explain why it is here. It is in the -safe--that is sufficient.” - -Heloise had become very thoughtful. - -“Then he knew!” she said. “The piker! Wouldn’t that make you sore! -Fifty thousand dollars--ten thousand pounds--seven hundred thousand -francs--every mark in the world--and all to be cleaned up on his -lonesome!” - -She was apparently oblivious of Gordon’s presence. The immensity of -Dan’s treachery was all-absorbing. - -“So that’s why he wanted to work alone! ‘Get him to Ostend,’ he said, -‘and leave the rest to me!’ And the rest was fifty thousand dollars! -That fellow couldn’t go straight if he was fired from a gun. Not a word -to me either--he expected to get a thousand pounds, he said--it is the -most unprofessional thing I’ve ever heard about in my life!” - -“My dear woman,” said Gordon testily, “the ethics of the case do not -interest me----” - -“But he’s gonna split this two ways,” said Heloise grimly, “or my name -is Johanna Dub. He’s going to act honest even if it hurts him. Yes, sir. -There’s going to be honour amongst Double Dan and Heloise Chowster. -Shame on you, Dan, you great big yegg!” - -The perfidy of the man had changed her whole outlook on life. Her very -ideals were tottering. - -“He’ll split it no-ways, understand that!” Gordon was firm. “I will not -see myself robbed. Do you think I’m a fool?” - -She searched his face for rebutting evidence. - -“Why, that idea certainly did occur to me,” she said mildly; and then -her tone changed. Diana’s step was on the stair. “I won’t plead with you -any more, Dan, there’s nothin’ to be gained. I--I wish you luck! Won’t -you take my hand for the last time?” - -Bewildered, Gordon stared at her, then he saw Diana and understood. - -“Don’t let us part this way, Dan. I forgive you everything you’ve done. -Good-bye, Dan, old friend.” - -She put out her hand timidly. Gordon could have smacked her. - -“Good-bye!” - -“You brute--take her hand at once!” hissed Diana. - -He took it limply. - -“All right--good-evening.” - -Diana knew that the criminal classes were callous, but she had never -realised how brutal they could be. - -“Come with me, my dear,” she said. “You need not see him any more.” - -“Thank you,” said Gordon; “that’s the first kind thing you’ve said.” - -Diana treated him with the scorn he deserved. - -“Miss Ford”--Heloise was looking wistfully at her benefactress--“dare I -ask you sump’n?” - -“Why, surely.” - -Heloise touched her skirt disparagingly. - -“Somehow these clothes don’t seem right in my state of mind. I know -you’ll think I’m crazy, but clothes mean an awful lot, even to a woman -like me, and these are kind of too gay for a broken-hearted girl. If -you’ve got sump’n quiet and sorrowful----” - -Diana smiled. How well she understood! - -“I know just how you’re feeling. Come to my room, Heloise. You need have -no fear. I will send Superbus to look after this--this man.” - -Gordon thrust out a warning finger. - -“Diana, I beg of you not to help this wretched female. And for heaven’s -sake don’t give her any of your new clothes--if you do, she’ll -impersonate you----” - -Diana’s glance would have withered a waterlily. - -“You despicable brute! Go to your bed and sleep--if you can!” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - - -It was Monday morning. A church clock striking one reminded Gordon of -this interesting fact. An hour had passed since Bobbie’s “good-night” -had come to him through the closed door of his room. - -“Good-night,” said Gordon. - -“I wasn’t speaking to you,” snapped Bobbie. - -He had been out all the evening interviewing Inspector Carslake, and the -excursion had not been altogether profitable. Bobbie’s door closed. He -heard the click of Diana’s lock being fastened. Dempsi passed, after -rhapsodizing at the closed portals of Diana’s bower. From somewhere -below came the snores of Julius Superbus. - -Every exit from the house was closed, save one. The little casement in -the big windows of The Study. Gordon had made a careful examination, for -there was a possibility that Diana had taken the precaution of screwing -it tight. But this she had neglected, satisfied probably with the -presence in The Study of Mr. Superbus. - -Twice Gordon had tiptoed to the door of his room and turned the handle. -It was unlocked to-night. With Bobbie in the house Diana had relaxed her -vigilance. Half-past-one chimed. Gordon got off the bed, put on his -soiled collar and his coat and gathered up his shoes. He was penniless, -but the servants at the hotel knew him, and he would be able to write a -cheque on the hotel note-paper and get all the cash he wanted. And then -he would return and deal with Mr. Dempsi. He had not yet decided as to -the method of Dempsi’s death, but it would be painful. As for Heloise -... he hoped that she would be gone. - -Extinguishing the light, he opened the door and listened. There was no -sound, and, creeping down the stairs, he passed silently into The Study. -Mr. Superbus was breathing regularly--the window rattled a little; the -floor vibrated; but no other ill effects followed. As Gordon stood -listening, the detective grunted and turned over on his side. The snores -ceased--Julius was in a deeper sleep than ever. Now was his chance; yet -he had not taken a step before he halted. A circle of light had appeared -at the window. He waited, holding his breath. There was a rasping -sound, and the casement opened. He saw the dark bulk of a figure wriggle -through. A long pause, in which the newcomer was invisible, then the -circle of light appeared again. This time on the safe. - -A burglar! His first impulse was to leap at the man and grapple with -him. His second was to approach with less commotion.... - -“Hands up, or I’ll fire!” - -At the first sibilant of the words, the light went out, and then: - -“Don’t shoot, guv’nor. It’s a cop!” - -“Don’t shout, you fool!” hissed Gordon. “There’s a man sleeping in the -room--where’s your gun?” - -“Don’t carry a gun.” - -“What are you doing here?” - -The unknown burglar’s impatient click of lips was certainly called for. - -“Don’t ask silly questions--I said it was a cop, didn’t I?” - -Gordon groped for the flash-lamp and turned it full on the man’s face. - -“I know you,” he said immediately. - -The thin lips parted in a grin. - -“You ’ave the advantage of me,” he said with mordant humour. - -“You are the man who was cleaning the windows yesterday morning?” - -The burglar nodded. - -“Got me first time. Stark’s my name--I’m not giving any trouble, and if -you tell the judge I had a gun you’re a liar.” - -He raised his voice a little. Gordon glanced round fearfully, but the -detective was snoring again. - -“Ssh! Not so loud. Have you opened the safe?” - -The idea came to him at that second: a brain flash of singular -brilliance. - -“I should have done if you’d been a minute later,” said Stark -plaintively. “You’ve spoilt a good night’s work.” - -Gordon nodded. - -“Open it,” he said, and Stark could not believe his ears. - -“What!” - -“Open it. I’ll pay you well--and I’ll give you your liberty. You’ll only -have to work on one lock--the combination is ‘Telma’--got that?” - -“Do you mean it, guv’nor?” incredulity dominant. - -“Yes, yes. I lost my key,” replied Gordon. “Now get to work--can you -manage without the lights?” - -The other grinned in the darkness. - -“Sure. Only amatchoors want a lot of light. A flash is best--and -brightest.” - -He produced from under his coat a short jemmy and a longer and thinner -instrument. He may have been, and was, a poor window-cleaner. As burglar -he belonged to the aristocracy. - -“Ever seen a safe opened before?” he asked over his shoulder. - -Gordon shook his head. - -“No--not this way,” he admitted. - -“Takes years to learn and there’s not much money in it,” said Mr. Stark -sadly. “Spoilt by foreigners this trade is, ruined by competition and -outsiders, like everything else. Americans mostly. Why they don’t keep -in their own country I don’t know. Very smart fellows--I’ll say that, -though they’re taking the bread out of our mouths; but we’ve got as good -men if they only had a bit of encouragement and capital behind ’em.” - -The door swung out. - -“There you are, sir!” - -Gordon peered over the man’s shoulder. - -“Open?” he asked, in a tone which combined surprise and annoyance. The -man who sold him the safe was indeed a teller of untrue stories. - -“Yes.” - -“Show the light. Here it is. Moses! there’s not ten thousand there!” - -He grasped what there was, and raised his head to listen--somebody was -coming down the stairs. - -“Now go quick--there’s somebody coming. Here, take this!” - -He thrust a bill into the burglar’s hand. In a second Stark was through -the window. Gordon was following, when a quivering voice from the sofa -called: - -“Who’s there----?” - -Mr. Selsbury did not wait to explain. As the detective, with surprising -courage, ran toward him, Gordon jumped from the window. - -“Stop!” - -It was another voice--Dempsi! Gordon dropped to the courtyard as the -other fired. - -“Bang--bang!” - -Twice he shot, and there was a scream of pain. Diana heard it, and -sprang from bed. Drawing her wrap about her as she ran, she flew down -the stairs and into The Study. In the centre of the room stood Dempsi, -and at his feet a figure--the wriggling figure of Julius Superbus. - -“He has paid the price of duty,” said Dempsi. - -And so it proved. Ten little toes had Mr. Superbus brought to 61 Cheynel -Gardens. One would never go forth again attached to his patrician feet. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - - -Summing up the matter, as she did in a night made busy with the comings -and goings of doctors, and vocal with the low-voiced agony of Mr. -Superbus, Diana was glad that the man had escaped. She was sorry, -extremely sorry about the Julian toe--a small toe by all accounts, and -not especially valuable or wholly necessary to his complete enjoyment of -life--still, it was his, and had been (as he explained between -paroxysms) a close companion throughout his chequered life. He recounted -stories about it, half fond, half wistful. Once he had dropped a hammer -on it and had cursed it for being in the way. He regretted that now. It -had been a gentle, easy-going toe, and had never given him trouble. -Other toes had developed callosities that were painful; but this child -of his heart amongst the pedal appendages had never given him a moment’s -unease. - -Yes, she was rather sorry, even though the doctor said he was in no pain -and (not knowing the fearless character of the man) had given an -opinion that Julius was more frightened than hurt. But she was glad -Double Dan had gone ... ever so glad. - -And the shooting had produced one most desirable result--Dempsi had been -completely subdued ever since. Not once had he described her as his -angel or his serene vision. He who had searched the heavens and starry -spaces thereof for illustrations of her beauty, her charm and her -numerous attractions, was satisfied with the most commonplace -terminology. - -“The fact is,” said Bobbie, “the poor Wop has never used an automatic -before, and the darn thing went off before he realised he had touched -the trigger.” - -“Poor Wop!” Diana’s nose went up. “Poor Mr. Superbus rather!” - -This was so long after breakfast that Bobbie had had time to make a call -at Diana’s bank, and Mr. Dempsi was a notable absentee. - -“How did you sleep?” he asked sympathetically. - -“Terribly! Bobbie, did you get the money?” - -“Yes, by great good luck your credits came through on Saturday. I have -the money. The manager was full of apologies on behalf of self and bank. -Here it is.” He produced from his hip pocket a thick wad of bills. “In -American money. By some strange accident it is clean.” - -She was thoughtful, biting her lip. - -“I had a wire from Gordon. He has reached Inverness,” she mentioned. - -“I’m sure he has,” said Bobbie drily. “And how is the old K Bus?” - -“Poor old fellow!” she laughed quietly. “I think he’s almost reconciled -to his very great loss. I shouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t develop -into a war-hero, but for the moment he’s worrying what his good lady -will say about the lost toe. From what he says I gather that she counts -them every night.” - -Bobbie grinned at the fire. There seemed something inexpressibly comic -about a man losing a toe. - -“Nothing has been heard of Double Dan?” he asked, and she shook her -head. - -“No, he seems to have disappeared. We know by the marks on the brickwork -that he climbed the wall, and according to Mr. Superbus, he had a -companion. In one way I’m glad he’s gone.” - -Bobbie looked at the girl in astonishment. - -“Glad?” he said. “Good lord, why?” - -“For the poor girl’s sake.” Diana’s face was saddened. “You don’t know -what she’s suffered at his hands, Bobbie. There’s a whole lot of good in -Heloise. Of course she feels his going. That’s the curse of it--a woman -never loses hope.” - -“He must have got away pretty quickly,” said Bobbie. “I was down -immediately after Dempsi, and though I searched the house and the -courtyard at once, there was no sign of the devil.” - -She made a little gesture of distaste. - -“Don’t let us talk about him,” she said briefly and went on to talk of -Dempsi. - -“He has been simply splendid. Really I have had a pleasant shock: the -only one of that variety he has ever given me. I shouldn’t have thought -that a man of his excitable temperament could have taken the matter so -calmly. But he is subdued. A little nervous, I think, about the -shooting. He was very anxious to know if I had informed the police, but -of course I hadn’t--so far as Mr. Superbus’ toe was concerned. He’s -going to-day.” - -“Not Dempsi?” - -She nodded. - -“He says he’ll wait for me for a thousand years,” she sighed. “I told -him a hundred would be long enough--heigho! He hasn’t spoken otherwise -about marriage all the morning. I almost like him for it.” - -The subject of conversation strolled into the room a few minutes later. -He was looking haggard, Bobbie thought, and remarkably unattractive. - -“Good morning, Mr. Selsbury--you have not seen Aunt Lizzie? I wished to -condole with her. It is terrible when lovers are parted--but how -terrible for you! Double Dan, you say? It makes my flesh creep. -Yet”--his admiring eyes beamed upon his hostess--“yet our little Diana -did not fear! Ah, that was most wonderful. But tell me--who is Aunt -Lizzie?” - -“A friend of mine,” said Diana shortly. - -Dempsi shook his head in sorrow. - -“I shall never forgive myself for shooting Superbus--in the toe,” he -said in a tone of bitter regret. - -Bobbie laughed. - -“You sound as though you’d like to have shot him through the head,” he -said, and Mr. Dempsi recoiled before the bloodthirsty suggestion. - -“I? Heaven forbid! I admire Superbus. He is to me most admirable.” - -“He shouldn’t have slept,” said Diana. “He promised me that if he did -fall off, he would have one eye open. Those were his words. I don’t know -how he would manage, but he was so confident that I didn’t come down to -look.” - -She ran to the door. The tap, tap of a stick on the parquet floor of the -hall announced the coming of the invalid, his right foot a picturesque -cushion of white bandages. There was a crutch under one arm, and he -heaved himself forward in jerks. To Diana he accorded a wan smile. -Bobbie took one arm, Mr. Dempsi the other. They reached the sofa to the -accompaniment of many grunts and “ughs.” - -“You are feeling better, Mr. Superbus?” - -He shook his head, being unwilling at this early stage to dispense with -the anxiety, the care and the apprehension that was his due. - -“Middling, ma’am, middling. Naturally, I’m a little bit shook up. I -always get that way when I figure in a shooting affray--if I may use the -term--and I’ve been in a few in my time. I’ll tell you about them one -day, miss. But this, in a way, is the worst, and I admit I don’t feel up -to the mark. What my good lady will say when she finds I’ve lost a -toe----” - -He shook his head mournfully. Diana tried to cheer him. - -“I’m sure she won’t make a fuss, Mr. Superbus. Women are very brave in -such moments of trial. And a toe more or less isn’t essential to married -happiness.” - -Mr. Superbus wasn’t so sure, being at that moment in his most -sentimental mood. His eyes were moist. - -“It’s a dreadful thing to think, ma’am,” he said, his lip a-tremble, -“that only yesterday that little toe of mine was alive and well; -to-day--where is it?” - -Mr. Dempsi covered his eyes with his long, thin hand. - -“And I did it,” he said, his bosom heaving. - -“Don’t take on so, sir”--Julius had the air of a Christian martyr -excusing the lions. “Why, it might have happened to any gentleman. I -wish you’d shot him--or her.” - -Diana’s eyes narrowed. - -“Or her?” she repeated. “What makes you say that? Was the other person a -woman?” - -“It might have been.” Julius was not prepared to be more explicit. In -truth, he wasn’t particularly sure himself, but being gifted by nature -with the mystery novelist’s successful trick of passing on suspicion to -the most unlikely quarters, he suggested a woman accomplice, if only to -be the only person in the room who knew the truth. Which was that the -second person was a man and used expressions that no lady could possibly -employ. - -“Whether it is one or the other I am unable to make a statement at -present,” he said sombrely. “That will come out at the trial.” - -“What really happened?” Bobbie put the question. He had still only a -disjoined idea of what had occurred in the dark. - -Julius fumbled in his pocket and found a massive notebook, opened it -deliberately, and, after much searching, found the page he sought. - -“At two A.M. on or about the fifteenth inst.,” he said sonorously and -with complete relish, “I was aroused from my slumbers by an uneasy -apprehension that trouble was abroad, viz: burglars or other bad -characters. I proceeded at once to rise from my bed, which was -twenty-five feet six inches from the window (I got Aunt Lizzie to -measure it)” he explained in parenthesis. “The Study was in darkness, -but I saw the figure of a man. As I darted forward to arrest him, there -arose, seemingly from my feet, a person or persons unknown. Realising -that danger threatened, I immediately grappled with them--I suppose you -heard the sign of a struggle?” he asked anxiously. - -Diana had heard nothing. Bobbie shook his head. - -“I didn’t, but I wasn’t near enough,” he explained. - -Mr. Dempsi, his hand behind him, his bearded chin on his waistcoat, did -not look up. - -“Suddenly,” resumed Superbus, “there was a shot and I knew no more.” - -“But you say it might have been a woman?” Diana was not inclined to lose -sight of that point. - -“It might have been a man or a woman,” said Julius. “That will come out -when I tell the secret story, so to speak. For the present I will -describe it as a person or persons unknown. I don’t mind admitting,” he -added, “that they was strangers to me, and I never want to see ’em -again. Where’s Uncle Isaac? I haven’t seen him this morning.” - -“But when you grappled, Mr. Superbus, you surely knew whether it was a -man or a woman?” insisted Diana. - -Julius inclined his head. - -“Speaking as a married man,” he said discreetly, “I ought to know.” - -“But you ‘grappled’?” - -“In a sense,” said Mr. Superbus, “only in a sense. When a man grapples -with--with--a problem, does he catch it by the ear, or punch it under -the jaw? No, ma’am. When I say grappled, I’m speaking in a general way.” - -“But you saw----” - -Here Julius was on safer ground. - -“Well, it looked like a man.... I’ll tell you the truth, it looked like -Uncle Isaac. Don’t imagine for one second that it _was_ Uncle Isaac,” he -warned them. “I cast no aspersions. He got through the door before I -could properly see him.” - -“You must have been mistaken, Mr. Superbus,” said Diana. - -“I saw it slip past me and out of that door.” Julius pointed. - -“You were mistaken,” said Diana. “The man went out of the window and -from the window into the courtyard. And then over the wall. The window -was found open.” - -But Julius was really not interested in the escaping criminal. On the -other hand, he was very much interested in his own emotions. For once he -felt that the eyes of the world were on him. - -“As I lay there,” he said, “the whole of my life flitted before me. I -saw my old school and the schoolmaster waiting for me at the door with -his cane behind his back. I saw the public-house what I used to use as a -young man, and where I met my good lady, owing to taking her father home -one night and helping the family to put him to bed----” - -“Yes, yes,” interrupted Bobbie, a little unkindly, “it must have been a -dreadful experience. Now tell us how you came to be asleep whilst these -people were breaking open the safe?” - -Mr. Superbus raised his eyebrows and shut his eyes. - -“Drugs,” he said. “The coffee must have been drugged last night. I’m a -light sleeper. The slightest noise and I’m awake!” - -Bobbie nodded. - -“Oh, you _did_ hear the pistol then?” he said. - -Diana thought his remark somewhat offensive. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - - -With the remark that he had to go to his good lady or his good lady -would have to come to him, Julius had taken his departure in a motor -ambulance. He could as well have gone by taxi, but he expressed a -preference for an ambulance. “One with a red cross,” he suggested. Diana -had ’phoned a garage, and Julius Superbus made his exit dramatically, -covered with blankets, flat on a stretcher, and smiling the smile of one -who was not long for this world but wasn’t afraid to go. - -“And what my missus will say when I come home short, I shudder to -think,” he said pathetically. “I don’t know: the only satisfaction I’ve -got is that it was done on dooty.” - -This significantly. When he had gone, Diana asked: - -“What is a toe worth, Bobbie? I must send the poor dear something. Would -two hundred pounds be too little?” - -“It was a little toe,” said Bobbie thoughtfully; “a big toe would have -cost you more. Try him with two hundred.” - -Diana wrote at once. - -She felt in excellent humour despite the empty safe with its hanging -door; despite the shadow of tragedy which had impinged upon the house. -Eleanor and the cook had made an early return. She had told them to stay -away until Tuesday. They had argued (so they said) as to whether she had -said Monday or Tuesday, and, to be on the safe side, had returned on the -earlier day. Cook’s triumph (she had supported the Tuesday view) was -tempered by the chagrin of a lost twenty-four hours of well-paid -idleness. - -Heloise, from an upper window, saw the detective take his ceremonious -departure. She had reason to be glad that Dempsi’s shots had done no -greater mischief. She had been noticeably nervous all that morning, -starting at every sound. Once Diana had found her hiding--there was no -other word for it--in the little book-room and, detected, she had been -so frightened and confused that Diana for a second was puzzled, till she -remembered that the abrupt departure of Double Dan must have shocked the -poor girl beyond understanding. - -Diana had finished her letter when Heloise came aimlessly into the room -and looked round. Dempsi was sitting on the sofa, his face in his -hands, looking moodily into the fire. Bobbie was in his own room, -engaged in some mysterious business of his own (he was writing frantic -telegrams to Gordon, imploring him to return; these he addressed to -every hotel in Paris where he was likely to be found). - -Diana looked up with a smile, blotted the envelope and fixed a stamp. - -“You must talk with Aunt--with Helosie--and amuse her,” she said. - -“Huh?” Dempsi broke off his meditations with a start. - -“You have met Heloise?” - -So many unlikely things had happened in the past forty-eight hours that -it was quite possible she had omitted an introduction. She would not -have been surprised if Dempsi denied having ever met Aunt Lizzie. - -“Oh yes, we have met,” he said awkwardly. “Did the shot waken you? I owe -you ten thousand apologies if it did.” - -She shook her head sadly. - -“No, no. My mind was too full of--something else. Something that I -cannot explain. Uncle--Uncle Isaac has really gone?” - -Diana nodded. - -“Gone! Out of my life! It doesn’t seem possible.” - -Dempsi was vaguely interested, fixing her with a blank look; he also was -thinking of something else. - -“Dear lady, you seem very sad,” he said mildly. - -Her tragic eyes moved till they rested on his. - -“Sad! When I think of my old home and my dear father in Michigan----” - -“I thought you said Connecticut,” interrupted Diana. - -Heloise was a quick thinker. - -“Mother lives there,” she said gently. “Poppa is in Michigan. They’re -living apart.” - -“I see,” said Diana helpfully, “happily separated. Most of one’s friends -are. It is so convenient for everybody--it simply means if you keep on -good terms with both, that you double the number of your friends. You -must feel rather nice about returning to America--having two homes that -will welcome you.” - -Heloise looked hard at the girl. She was never quite sure whether she -was being very serious or very sarcastic. Other people disliked Diana -for the same reason. - -“So you’re going home?” Dempsi roused himself to take a benevolent -interest in Aunt Lizzie. - -“Yes, I’m going back to a new life, thanks to Miss Ford,” she said -quietly. “Some day this life will seem like a bad dream; I shall forget -everything, except those who have robbed me of that which was dearer -than life itself.” - -The embarrassed Diana made her escape. - -“You go to America?” - -“Yes.” - -“It is a beautiful country. A wonderful country!” mused Dempsi. - -The click of the door as Diana disappeared brought him to his feet, and -his expression had undergone a remarkable change. He looked down at -Heloise keenly, as he rasped: - -“Now, where is that money?” - -Heloise glanced at the door, looked over her shoulder: the room was -empty. - -“You know where it is, Sally!” he said harshly. “Now come across!” - -She was not sad any more; on the contrary, she was on the verge of fury. -Hands on hips, she faced him. - -“Say, Dan, you’re the cleverest thing in male impersonators I know,” she -said shrilly. “I guess I wouldn’t be surprised to see you come into this -room disguised as a performing flea. But the innocent child is outside -your repertoire. You wouldn’t last three bars as Little Eva. Who took -the money? You cheap skate! You’re not going to put that over on me! You -took the money. You took it, and helped that poor fool make a getaway at -the same time. I guess you were working on the safe when he came in.” - -“You lie!” He was beside himself with wrath. “I came in after you’d got -it out. I didn’t mean to shoot--I guess that was the maddest thing I -ever did. But I saw this guy getting through the window, and I guessed -what happened. He gave you the money to let him escape!” - -She showed her white teeth in a grimace of fury. - -“You mean I’ve got it right now? In my pocket?” - -“Sure I mean that,” he said doggedly. - -She heaved up a long, impatient sigh. - -“You’re going to hear from my husband’s lawyers! That’s what! And right -here and now I’m telling you sump’n, you four-flushin’ dog! You took -the money, and shot that poor boob when he came in to see who it was -breaking the tin! What were you doing in the room all dressed up ready -to jump the first train out of London--and leave me flat? You sneak! -Haven’t I worked hard for you? Haven’t I sat for hours making an -exhibition of my darned ego for that soul-lizard? Didn’t I get out of -him the story of Diana, and give you the script and band parts and light -cues? Didn’t I pump him till there was noth’n’ left but the squeak and -the handle? And--do--you--dare--to turn me down?” - -He dared nothing. Her victory was complete when he began to make -excuses. - -“There was fifty thousand dollars in that safe. All I’ve got is a -crossed cheque that’s as useful as confetti at a funeral. It will take -two days to clear: Selsbury will be back to-night.” - -“Fifty thousand dollars!” she sneered. “You told me nothing about that. -Maybe you forgot it? You said there wasn’t a thousand pounds in the job. -Didn’t you? You said you’d be glad if you got back expenses. Am I lying? -And what’s that cheque anyway? Money she owed Dempsi? Great snakes--the -money Dempsi threw at her! I told you that, and I’d forgotten it!” - -She ran her fingers through her hair. Her smile was fixed and -terrifying. The smile of the Medusas was jocund by comparison. - -“I forgot about it until I got a note from her enclosing the money,” he -protested. “Why, when that cheque came along, you could have blown me -down. It was then I saw big money in the proposition and decided to go -after the rest of the stuff. It looked easy to me.” - -Impolite scepticism showed in her eye, and his injured air only -intensified her suspicions. - -“Now, Dan, you’re a wonderful teller of tales and I guess if I were a -bit younger I’d fall for it!” she said practically. “But you’re going to -be a good little boy and ’fess up to Auntie that you took that money, -and then you’ll say ‘Auntie, we’ll split it fifty-fifty.’ And if you -don’t, Dan, why, it’s ‘Good morning, judge’ for yours!” - -He tried blandishment. - -“Honest, now, Sally, you’ve got it,” he said genially. “Let’s get right -down to cases and----” - -“Would I be here doing this act and allowing my emotions to destroy my -beauty if I had it? Shouldn’t I be stepping on it? Would you be -exchanging persiflage with anything but the dust of my trail?” - -This point appeared logical. - -“That’s true,” he said. “Then who opened the safe--not Selsbury?” - -“You did,” she nodded, and he went purple. - -“Curse you! I told you I didn’t take it....” - -The door handle turned. Without looking round they knew it was Diana. -She had omitted to enclose a cheque in her letter, she remarked at -large, but they were too absorbed in their talk to heed her. - -“I just love the country,” sighed Heloise. “To hear the old blue jays -singing and watch the clouds coming up over the hill and feel the breeze -in your face--why, there’s nothing quite like it, Mr. Dempsi.” - -“I’ve never seen you two talking before,” said Diana with a smile. Which -was true. - -In a few seconds she was gone.... - -“Now see here, Sally, we haven’t time to act foolishly over this -business. The stuff was taken, maybe by that guy Selsbury. What did you -come here for, anyway?” It was a question that he had been seeking an -opportunity to ask. - -“I came here when I found you were trying to work the job as a one-man -performance. I know you, Dan; you’ve got a mighty bad reputation amongst -honest crooks.” - -He laughed without merriment. - -“I’m trying to live it down. Where has he gone--did he tell you he was -leaving?” - -“No; we’d given up confidences before he left. You said he would come -back. I’ve got it in my bones that you’re right. I guess he got it.” - -“But he couldn’t have worked a job like this single-handed,” said the -other. “Why, your husband couldn’t have opened that safe more -scientifically....” - -She was not willing to be turned by gross flattery. - -“Cut out the small talk and get right down to the grand facts of life,” -she said briskly. “Did I find Selsbury and affinitize him or did I not? -Did I....” - -He snarled at her like an angry mongrel. - -“‘Did I, didn’t I’--great Moses! Do I want all that stuff? Why did you -allow him to come back here?” - -“Let him come back?” she said scornfully. “I made him come back! When I -got him into the house, I had him like that. I knew how you’d turn up. -I knew there was money here, and I was going to stay with it. It’s a -funny thing about me that, of all the affinities I’ve met, noth’n’ is -quite so close as money. Noth’n’ understands me better or talks more -like Governor George Demosthenes.” - -The man was finished. He too was a philosopher. - -“Well, there’s no help for it,” he said with a groan that he could not -suppress. “We’ll have to share. The old terms, mind--none of your -fifty-fifty stuff. Seventy-thirty.” - -“Seventy-thirty! Well, I admire cold blood! It’s fifty-fifty or nothing -with me, Dan. But there ain’t anything to share.” - -Here he corrected her. - -“She’s paying up. I’ve given her back the cheque. If you wait -half-an-hour she’ll have it cashed. Now are you satisfied? Sixty-forty?” - -“Fifty-fifty!” said Heloise firmly. “You’d never forgive yourself if you -gave me less.” - -They wrangled for ten minutes; in the end Heloise gained a victory for -principle. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - - -Eleanor came furtively in search of her mistress and found her in -Gordon’s room, valiantly overhauling his wardrobe. - -“The clergyman, miss,” she said, with an air of mystery that was -natural. - -The well-trained servant has an air appropriate to the calling of every -visitor. Dread and a funereal solemnity for doctors, a primness for -elderly ladies, a suppressed blitheness to announce the young, mystery -for the clergy; only a lawyer baffles interpretation. The secret -dispositions of lawyers have never been probed. - -“The clergyman!” Diana’s heart fell. - -“A priest, ma’am, by his clothes,” said Eleanor. - -She was a Primitive Methodist and was secretly thrilled by priests and -nuns. - -Not before had Diana considered Mr. Dempsi’s sectarian leanings. Nor had -she before had sufficient confidence to meet the man whom she guessed -had been sent by Dempsi to arrange the details of her servitude. - -“I will come down,” she said, and took the card from Eleanor’s hand. - -She read the few printed words carefully, then she read them again and -passed her hand over her eyes. - - “Father Guiseppi Dempsi, Vicar of Banhurst.” - -“Father Guiseppi Dempsi!” she said aloud, and in another second was -flying down the stairs. - -She recognised him instantly, clean-shaven, dark, the old grin in his -brown eyes. She would have known him even had he not been wearing his -black cassock. - -“Diana!” he said. “After all these years!” - -“Mr. Dempsi,” she grasped, gripping the thin hand outstretched, “it _is_ -you! You don’t know how glad I am to see you!” - -Dempsi, the real Dempsi! Then who was the other? The solution of the -mystery came to her in a flash, and in the realisation the whole weight -of the universe was lifted from her heart. - -“Father Dempsi!” she said, in a wondering way, still holding his hand. -“It doesn’t seem possible!” - -“I was rather a fool, wasn’t I?” he said without any trace of -embarrassment. “Yes, I went into the Church. But I should have let you -know.” - -“The money!” she said, suddenly. “The money you gave me--you will want -that?” - -He laughed a little sheepishly. - -“I wondered if any was left. Honestly, I need money just now. My boys’ -club is insolvent and the new church hall wants an organ....” - -She nodded. She was still bewildered. Almost hysterical. And then came -an excited Bobbie with a rush, flinging open the door. - -“Diana!” he began. - -Behind him stood Gordon. A somewhat severely clad Gordon, yet different. -She ran to him--before she realised what happened, she had kissed him. -Gordon returned the kiss without any visible effort. - -“Gordon, do you know the Reverend Guiseppi Dempsi? You’ve heard me talk -about Mr. Dempsi?” - -Gordon stared at the priest open-mouthed. - -“The Reverend Guiseppi Dempsi?” he said. “I thought--er----” He grasped -the hand of the smiling clergyman. “I knew it couldn’t be that little -... how do you do?” - -“Diana and I are very old acquaintances--old friends, I ought to say,” -said Dempsi, beaming from one to the other. “Old lovers, I nearly said, -but the love was a little one-sided.” He chuckled. - -“Extraordinary!” Gordon could say no more. - -“But, Gordon, how is it you’re back? I had a wire this morning from -Inverness. You couldn’t have got back----” - -“By aeroplane,” said Gordon without a blush. “I had a feeling that all -was not well with you.” - -“Gordon, did you really?” Her colour came and went. “You are psychic, -aren’t you? And Gordon, dear, you’ve had your whiskers shaved!” - -He nodded gravely. - -“I meant to tell you I intended doing that--you once said that you did -not like them. No more than that was necessary. They vanished in the -twinkling of an eye.” - -It was Gordon’s moment. He was colossal. - -Eleanor opened the front door to a gentleman who was difficult to place. - -“Miss Ford at home?” - -“Yes, sir, but she’s engaged.” - -The stranger had no visiting-card apparently, for he announced himself. - -“I am Inspector Carslake from Scotland Yard,” he said. “I should like to -see the safe that was opened last night. It isn’t necessary to disturb -Miss Ford.” - -Eleanor, in a flutter, opened the door wider and showed him into The -Study. - -“...leave by the first train,” Mr. Dempsi was saying. “We’ll split -later.” - -“We’ll split before we part,” said Heloise firmly, “for fear an accident -happens--to the money.” - -The other shrugged. - -“I’d hate to have a mind like yours,” he said. - -And then the visitor came in. Heloise recognised him before he saw her -face. There was a newspaper within reach, and she snatched it up, -disappeared behind the printed page, and, reading, walked slowly from -The Study into the little library. - -“Don’t go,” said Dempsi. - -Then he too saw the detective, and here the recognition was mutual. - -“The cobwebs on your chin are strangers to me,” said Carslake, “but -that noble brow and those sparkling eyes belong to an old friend of -mine, Dan Throgood, yclept Double Dan.” - -“I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake,” said “Dempsi” with some hauteur. - -“What you’re afraid of is that I haven’t,” said Carslake, and glanced at -the broken door of the safe. “Your work?” - -“No. That’s not my line. You’ve nothing on me, Carslake. I’ve been -staying here as a guest of Mr. Selsbury.” - -“And now you’re going to be a guest of the King,” said Carslake, -slipping a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. “I must say, Dan, that you -see life!” - -It was later in the day, and from information received, that the -inspector called at 61 Cheynel Gardens to arrest and detain one Sarah -Chowster, British subject _alias_ Heloise van Oynne. But Heloise had -gone. None knew whither. - -“Can I see Miss Ford,” he asked, “or Mr. Selsbury?” - -Eleanor asked him to wait, and, passing into The Study, listened -intently at the door. - -“...I really was going back to Australia, Gordon.” - -“I’ll follow you, and if necessary lose myself in the bush,” said -Gordon’s voice. - -There was a long silence. Eleanor opened the door an inch and looked. -Then she went back to the detective. - -“Mr. Selsbury and Miss Ford are engaged,” she said. - - -THE END - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIANA OF KARA-KARA *** - -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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Diana of Kara-Kara</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Edgar Wallace</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 19, 2021 [eBook #65383]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Al Haines, Chuck Greif & the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net. This file was produced from images generously made available by Internet Archive.</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIANA OF KARA-KARA ***</div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="550" alt="" /> -</div> - -<h1>DIANA OF KARA-KARA</h1> - -<p class="c">BY<br /> -EDGAR WALLACE<br /><small> -Author of “<span class="smcap">The Green Archer</span>,” “<span class="smcap">The Clue -of the New Pin</span>,” etc.</small><br /><br /><br /> -<img src="images/colophon.png" -width="85" -alt="" -/> -<br /><br /><br /> -BOSTON<br /> -SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY<br /> -PUBLISHERS<br /><br /><br /> -<small> -COPYRIGHT, 1924,<br /> -<span class="smcap">By</span> SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY<br /> -(INCORPORATED)<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -<i>Printed in the United States of America</i><br /> -<i>Printed by Geo. H. Ellis Co. Inc., Boston, Massachusetts</i><br /> -<i>Bound by the Boston Bookbinding Company</i><br /> -<i>Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A.</i></small> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span> </p> - -<p class="cb"> -DIANA OF KARA-KARA</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="" -style="border:3px double gray;padding:.5em; -margin:1em auto;max-width:60%;"> -<tr class="c"><td> -<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_II"> II, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_III"> III, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_IV"> IV, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_V"> V, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_VI"> VI, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_VII"> VII, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"> VIII, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_IX"> IX, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_X"> X, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XI"> XI, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XII"> XII, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"> XIII, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"> XIV, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XV"> XV, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"> XVI, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"> XVII, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"> XVIII, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"> XIX, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XX"> XX, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"> XXI, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII"> XXII, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII"> XXIII, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV"> XXIV, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV"> XXV, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI"> XXVI, </a> -<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII"> XXVII</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">She</span> is an orphan,” said Mr. Collings emotionally.</p> - -<p>Orphans were Mr. Collings’ weakness.</p> - -<p>In ordinary intercourse as between lawyer and client, he was a stern, -reserved man with a cold passion for compromise. Litigants entered his -office charged with bubbling joy that their enemies had delivered -themselves into their hands; they came talking five figure damages and -the stark ruin of men and corporations who and which had offended them. -They slunk out again into the glare of an Australian sun, their cases -demolished, their spirits broken, their futures clouded. Mr. Collings -did not believe in litigation. He believed that things could be -arranged.</p> - -<p>If it was possible for a murdered man to walk into Mr. Collings’ office -and say: “I’ve got an excellent case against Binks: he has just shot me<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">{2}</a></span> -dead. Do you think I can get damages?” Mr. Collings would reply: “I very -much doubt it. There is a great deal to be said for Binks. And aren’t -you in rather an awkward position yourself? You are carrying about a -bullet which undoubtedly is the property of Binks. You never know what -point of view a jury will take. You had better let me try to settle -this.”</p> - -<p>But in the matter of orphans Mr. Collings was slightly unbalanced. He -was strictly brought up by parents who compelled him to read books on -Sunday that were entirely devoted to orphans and good organ-grinders and -little girls who quoted extensively from precious books and died -surrounded by weeping negroes. In such literature the villains of the -piece were young scoundrels who surreptitiously threw away their crusts -and only ate the crumbly part of bread; desperadoes who kicked dogs and -threw large flies into spiders’ webs and watched the spider at his fell -work with glee.</p> - -<p>“She is an orphan,” said Mr. Collings again, and blew his nose loudly.</p> - -<p>“She has been an orphan for ten years,” said Mr. William Cathcart -cynically.</p> - -<p>Mr. Collings was stout, bald, given to afternoon<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span> naps; Mr. Cathcart was -thin, narrow-faced, not so bald, and never slept at all, so far as -anybody knew. He hated orphans. They stood for questions of <i>cestui que -use</i>, problems of <i>cy-pres</i>, perplexities of <i>donatio mortis causa</i> and -the Guardianship of Infants Act. He never saw an orphan without his hand -going instinctively to his hip pocket.</p> - -<p>“And the most irregular orphan I have ever met,” continued Mr. William -Cathcart remorselessly. “An infant in law with a bank balance of a -hundred thousand! I refuse to drop a tear—positively!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Collings wiped his eyes.</p> - -<p>“She <i>is</i> an orphan,” he insisted. “Mrs. Tetherby gave her the money -during her lifetime: there is nothing irregular in that. If I gave -an—an orphan”—he swallowed hard—“a penny, a pound—a thousand—is -that a breach of the law, an impropriety, even though it is practised -<i>de die in diem</i>?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Cathcart considered.</p> - -<p>“You might in certain circumstances be acting <i>de sont tort</i>,” he said.</p> - -<p>Mr. Collings pondered this; found the term almost inapplicable, but not -so much so that he could<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span> be offensive in a gentlemanly way. Wisely he -returned to lamb.</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Tetherby was inert. Stout women are often inert——”</p> - -<p>“Lazy,” suggested the dyspeptic Cathcart.</p> - -<p>“She was fond of Diana. Few aunts are fond of nieces. Her will proves -that. She left everything——”</p> - -<p>“There was nothing to leave,” interrupted Mr. William Cathcart with sour -satisfaction. How that man hated orphans! “There was nothing to leave -because in her lifetime she gave Diana full control of her money.”</p> - -<p>“She was inert,” murmured Mr. Collings. “She loved this orphan -child——”</p> - -<p>“If there was one woman in the world who ought never to have been -allowed——”</p> - -<p>“Never ought have been,” corrected Mr. Collings gently.</p> - -<p>“—to have charge of a girl of Diana Ford’s temperament, it is or was -Mrs. Tetherby. A child of sixteen who has a raging love affair with a -student——”</p> - -<p>“A theological student,” insisted Mr. Collings. “Don’t forget that. A -young woman may well feel that she could give her heart to a -theological<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span> student when a medical student would have revolted all that -was most sensitive in her nature.”</p> - -<p>“A theological student makes it worse.”</p> - -<p>“At least Mrs. Tetherby consulted us on that matter.” Mr. Collings was a -shade reproachful. “Inert or energetic, she consulted us.”</p> - -<p>“She consulted us to discover whether she would be liable to trial for -murder if she waylaid and shot Mr. Dempsi. She said that she had set a -dog on to him, but he was incapable of taking a hint. Those were her -words.”</p> - -<p>“Dempsi is dead,” said Mr. Collings in a hushed voice. “I spoke to Diana -on the subject only eight months ago—when her dear aunt died. I asked -her if the wound had left a scar. She said she scarcely remembered a -scratch, and that she often amused herself in the evenings by trying to -draw him from memory.”</p> - -<p>“A heartless little devil,” said Mr. Cathcart.</p> - -<p>“A child—youth has no memory, not even for its stomach aches,” said Mr. -Collings oracularly.</p> - -<p>“Did you discuss those too?” sneered his partner.</p> - -<p>Mr. Collings raised his eyebrows. Such a man as he is hopeless in the -face of sheer vulgarity.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span></p> -<p>“An orphan....” he began.</p> - -<p>The clerk at the door spoke in the strained way of managing clerks.</p> - -<p>“Miss Diana Ford, sir,” he said.</p> - -<p>The legal house of Collings & Cathcart exchanged glances.</p> - -<p>“Show the young lady in.” The door closed. “Be gentle with her, -William.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Cathcart writhed.</p> - -<p>“Will she be gentle with me?” he asked bitterly. “Will you guarantee -that she will be reasonably polite to me—and back your guarantee with -real money?”</p> - -<p>There came through the door a peach tree, blossoming in the spring of -the year; summer dawn on riverside meadows with the dew winking from a -thousand gossamers. The froth of hawthorn in an English country lane; a -crystal brook whispering between slim larches. Miss Diana Ford.</p> - -<p>During the war Mr. Cathcart had held a commission in the Army Service -Corps (Home Service) and had acquired the inventory habit. He saw: -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td align="left">Girl:</td><td align="left">Slim, medium size.</td><td align="left">One.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">Eyes:</td><td align="left">Grey-blue; large, more or less innocent.</td><td align="left">Two.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">Mouth:</td><td align="left">Red, Bow-shaped, largish.</td><td align="left">One.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">Nose:</td><td align="left">Straight, in perfect shape.</td><td align="left">One.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">Hair:</td><td align="left">Slightly golden, bobbed.</td><td align="left">One complete head.</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>Diana was as unrecognisable from the inventory as the average man from -the description on his passport. She had the atmosphere of spring and -dawn. Her colouring belonged to such season and time, having a pink of -its own and a whiteness which looked pink when compared with white. She -moved with such supple grace that Mr. Cathcart suspected an entire -absence of corsets—he was a married man.</p> - -<p>She came impulsively to Mr. Collings and kissed him. Mr. William -Cathcart closed his eyes, so did not meet the smirk of satisfaction -which his partner loosened for his benefit.</p> - -<p>“Good morning, Uncle. Good morning, Uncle Cathcart.”</p> - -<p>“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Mornin’,” said Mr. Cathcart, hostile to the last.</p> - -<p>“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Mornin’!” she boomed in imitation. “And I’ve come feeling awfully nice -toward you! I called you ‘Uncle’!”</p> - -<p>“I heard you,” glowered the newly elected rel<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span>ative. “It would be much -better, Miss Ford, if we proceeded on business lines——”</p> - -<p>“You can proceed on tram lines if that pleases you,” she sighed, taking -off her hat and tossing it on to the nearest deed-box. “Oh, Uncle -Collings, I’m <i>sick</i>!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Cathcart half rose in his alarm.</p> - -<p>“Sick of Australia, sick of the station, sick of the people, sick of -everything. I’m going home.”</p> - -<p>“Home!” gasped Mr. Collings. “But, my dear little Diana. If by ‘home’ -you mean England and not—er——”</p> - -<p>“Heaven,” suggested Mr. Cathcart.</p> - -<p>“I mean England, of course I mean England. I am going to stay with my -cousin, Gordon Selsbury.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Collings scratched his nose.</p> - -<p>“An elderly person, of course?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know.” She shrugged her indifference.</p> - -<p>“Married, er——?”</p> - -<p>“I suppose so. If he’s nice. All the nice men are married—present -company excepted.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Collings was a bachelor and could afford to laugh very heartily. Mr. -Cathcart, on the other hand, <i>was</i> married and was not even amused.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span></p> - -<p>“You have cabled and written, of course: there is no objection to your -going to—er—Mr. Selsbury’s?”</p> - -<p>“None whatever.” She was overridingly brisk. “He will be delighted to -have me.”</p> - -<p>“Twenty!” said Mr. Cathcart and shook his head. “An infant in law! I -really think we must know more about Mr. Selsbury and his condition -before—eh, Collings?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Collings looked appealingly at the girl; she had never seemed more -or looked less orphaned than at that moment.</p> - -<p>“It would be wise, perhaps—?” he no more than suggested.</p> - -<p>When Diana smiled her eyes wrinkled up and you saw both rows of her -small white teeth.</p> - -<p>“I have taken my cabin: a lovely one. With a bathroom and sitting-room. -The walls are panelled in blue brocade silk and there is a cute little -brass bedstead in the middle—so that you can fall out either side.”</p> - -<p>Mr. William Cathcart felt it was the moment to bring down his foot.</p> - -<p>“I am afraid I cannot consent to your going,” he said quietly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Why?” Up went her chin.</p> - -<p>“Yes, why?” demanded Mr. Collings. He was anxious to know.</p> - -<p>“Because,” said Mr. Cathcart, “because, my dear young lady, you are an -infant in the eyes of the wise old law of this country; because Mr. -Collings and I stand <i>in loco parentis</i> to you. Now I am old enough to -be your father——”</p> - -<p>“And grandfather,” she said calmly. “But does that matter? There was a -lad of sixty trying to find opportunities for squeezing my hand all the -way down in the train from Bendigo. Age means nothing if your heart is -young.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly!” said Mr. Collings, whose heart was very young.</p> - -<p>“The long and the short of it is that you can’t go,” said Mr. William -Cathcart defiantly. “I do not wish to apply for an order of the -court——”</p> - -<p>“One moment, little friend of the poor,” said Diana. She threw several -priceless law books and a pile of affidavits from a chair and sat down. -“A few moments ago—correct me if I am wrong: I seldom am—you produced -your hoary Mr. Loco Parentis to crush me to the earth. Meet Colonel -Locus Standi!”</p> - -<p>“Eh?” said William, dithered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span></p> - -<p>“My knowledge of legal formula is slight,” said Diana gravely. “I have -lived a pure and a sheltered life amidst the rolling grass lands of -Kara-Kara, but ignorant orphan though I am....”</p> - -<p>Mr. Collings sighed.</p> - -<p>“...I understand that before a lawyer applies to the courts he must -have a client. For no lawyer, except perhaps a lawyer who has been -crossed in love and is not quite sane, goes to law without a client.”</p> - -<p>Mr. William Cathcart shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“You must make your own bed,” he said.</p> - -<p>“The court can’t even make me do that,” she replied.</p> - -<p>Mr. Cathcart saw her walking across to him and took up his pen hastily.</p> - -<p>“Uncle Cathcart,” she said in a low voice, “I did so hope and pray that -we should part friends! Every night when I kneel by my bed and say -‘Please, God, give Uncle Cathcart a sense of humour and make him a nice -man,’ I have expected the miracle to happen.”</p> - -<p>Uncle Cathcart wriggled.</p> - -<p>“Have your own way,” he said loudly. “I can’t put an old head on young -shoulders. Those who live longest will see most.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“The proof of the pudding is in the eating,” she added gently. “You -forgot that one.”</p> - -<p>At luncheon, Mr. Collings tapped the ash of his cigar into the coffee -saucer.</p> - -<p>“What is this fellow like—this Selsbury?”</p> - -<p>“He’s wonderful!” she said dreamily. “He rowed six in the University -eight—I’m simply crazy about him.”</p> - -<p>The startled Mr. Collings gazed at her in fascinated horror.</p> - -<p>“Is he crazy about you?” he gasped.</p> - -<p>Diana smiled. She was adjusting her nose with the aid of a mirror -concealed in the flap of her handbag.</p> - -<p>“He will be,” she said softly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Neither</span> by nature crazy, nor by inclination eccentric, Mr. Gordon -Selsbury had at moments serious but comfortable doubts as to whether he -was not a little abnormal; whether he was not, in fine, one of those -rare and gifted mortals to whom was given Vision beyond the ordinary. -His environment was the commonplace City of London; his occupation a -shrieking incongruity for a spiritual man—he was an insurance broker. -And a prosperous insurance broker.</p> - -<p>Sometimes he sat before the silver fire grate of his sitting-room, -amazed at the contradictory evidence of his own genius. Here (said he, -thinking impartially) was a man with a Conscious Soul, beside whom other -men were clods, vegetables, animals of the field, slaves to their -material demands. Lifted above the world and its peculiarly grimy -interests, he was a man whose spiritual head rose above fog and was one -with the snow-capped mountains and the blue skies. And yet—here was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span> -the truly astonishing thing—he could grapple most practically with -these materialists and could tear from the clenched and frenzied paws -large quantities of soiled and greasy money....</p> - -<p>“No, Trenter, I shall be out to-morrow afternoon. Will you please tell -Mr. Robert that I will see him at my office. Thank you, Trenter.”</p> - -<p>Trenter inclined his head respectfully and went back to the telephone.</p> - -<p>“No, sir, Mr. Selsbury will not be at home to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie Selsbury was annoyed.</p> - -<p>“Will you tell him that he promised to play in a foursome with me, tell -him—ask him to come to the telephone.”</p> - -<p>Gordon got up from his tapestried armchair with an expressionless face. -Before the servants he revealed nothing in the least degree emotive.</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, I know!” wearily. “But I had a prior engagement. You must get -somebody else. Old Mendlesohn ... what’s the matter with him? Rubbish, -my dear fellow.... At any rate, you must get somebody—I’m tremendously -busy to-morrow.... I don’t feel like discussing my business on the -telephone. Good-bye.”</p> - -<p>He paced his dignified way to his den. Gor<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span>don Selsbury once rowed six -in the Varsity boat—there were crossed oars above his fireplace, though -he thought the display in bad taste. He had once been a fresher whose -chief joy in life had been to steal policemen’s helmets and ride a -bicycle down forbidden pathways, and to sprint from proctors. It seemed -difficult to believe. He was tall and good-looking in the Apollo -Belvedere manner. Fair, with a forehead which was large and thoughtful, -he baffled instant analysis by carrying through life two inches of -sidewhisker on either cheek. Men seeing him first thought he wrote music -or played a ’cello. Women on introduction guessed him as a dancer of -amazing agility, or possibly a film artist.</p> - -<p>“Trenter....”</p> - -<p>Trenter waited, his head attentively thrust forward, a simulation of -intense interest on his sharp features. He continued to wait, even as -Gordon continued to frown at the fireplace.</p> - -<p>“Trenter....”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir?”</p> - -<p>Slowly Mr. Selsbury turned his head until his eyes met Trenter’s.</p> - -<p>“I saw you kissing the parlourmaid this morning. You are a married man, -I believe?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Trenter blinked apprehensively. He was indeed married.</p> - -<p>“I do not wish that sort of thing to happen again,” said Gordon, mildly -scandalised. “You are a married man with responsibilities which cannot -be ignored or set on one side. Eleanor, as I understand her name to be, -is a young girl, possibly inflammable, certainly impressionable. To -cloud a young girl’s life by awakening in her heart a passion which you -cannot return is most reprehensible. Even I have been rocked by the -current which the stone you cast has set into motion. My shaving water -was late this morning. This must not occur again.”</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” said Trenter.</p> - -<p>News comes instantly to the servants’ hall in any event. Now, telepathy -lagged behind Trenter’s spoken word.</p> - -<p>Eleanor, tall, svelte, pallid of face, black eyebrows and eyes that -flashed, interrupted the operation of a lip-stick to listen. She was -tremulously indignant.</p> - -<p>“Because he’s a St. Andrew, does he think that we haven’t any human -feelings? The poor cold-blooded fish! I’ll let him know that I won’t be -talked about and my name took away—taken<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span> away, I mean—by a prying, -sneaking, rubber-soled spy. He is too!”</p> - -<p>“Who’s this St. Andrew?” Trenter was suspicious of all saints, being by -marriage a Primitive Baptist.</p> - -<p>“He’s the man that women tempted and he wouldn’t,” said Eleanor, -prepared to drop the illustration. But Trenter was of another mind.</p> - -<p>“Who’s been tempting him?” he asked, darkling eyed.</p> - -<p>“Nobody: not if it’s me you mean. I’d like to see him put his arm round -<i>my</i> waist! He’d never forget it!”</p> - -<p>“He wouldn’t forget himself anyway,” said Trenter, relieved.</p> - -<p>She tossed her head sceptically.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know!” she said, and nodded to a warm, large woman in the -gingham and apron of her profession. “Ask cook!”</p> - -<p>Trenter was dazed.</p> - -<p>“Good God!—not you, cook?” he asked in a whisper.</p> - -<p>Happily Mrs. Magglesark was not a quick thinker.</p> - -<p>“Yes; I saw him too,” she said, and Eleanor, in terror that the telling -of the story should go<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span> elsewhere, trod on the opening of the cook’s -narrative.</p> - -<p>“Me and cook—that is to say cook and I—were on top of a ’bus last -Sunday——”</p> - -<p>“In Knightsbridge.” Thus the cook claimed her equal share of the -copyright.</p> - -<p>“We were laughing and talking when cook said ‘Look, Nelly—there’s the -boss.’<span class="lftspc">”</span></p> - -<p>“I said ‘If that isn’t his nibs!’<span class="lftspc">”</span> amended Mrs. Magglesark.</p> - -<p>“And there he was!” said Eleanor. “With a girl, very tall and dressed in -black, and he was holding her hand!”</p> - -<p>“In the street?” incredulously.</p> - -<p>“In the car: from the top of a ’bus you can look down into cars, if -they’re open. Many a sight I’ve seen!”</p> - -<p>“Was she pretty?” asked Trenter, man-like.</p> - -<p>Eleanor’s lips pursed.</p> - -<p>“Well, I suppose some people would call her pretty. Did you think she -was pretty, cook?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Magglesark, having reached the age when she regarded all young -people as passable, thought she was pretty.</p> - -<p>“Holding her hand!” Trenter was very thoughtful. “It wasn’t Mrs. van -Oynne?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“Who is she?”</p> - -<p>“She’s been here twice to tea. An American lady, rather well-dressed. -Heloise! That’s her name. And a good-looker. She usually wears black and -paradise feathers.”</p> - -<p>“<i>She</i> wore paradise feathers!” said cook and Eleanor together.</p> - -<p>Trenter nodded.</p> - -<p>“That’s her,” he said, “but there’s nothing in it. She’s a highbrow. -Reads books and all that. Last time she was here, she and him discussed -the Ego Soul. The little bits I heard I couldn’t make head or tail of.”</p> - -<p>Eleanor was impressed.</p> - -<p>“Funny for him to be discussing eggs,” she said.</p> - -<p>It was not funny for Gordon Selsbury to discuss anything. With Heloise -van Oynne there seemed to be no subject, from kidney beans to -metaphysics, that he could not examine profitably. It is true that he -did most of the talking, but her rapt gaze rectified deficiencies of -speech.</p> - -<p>Gordon sat with her that afternoon in the tearoom of the Coburg Hotel, -and they were comparatively alone.</p> - -<p>“There is something I have wanted to say to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span> you ever since I met you, -Heloise,” he said softly. “A month! It almost seems incredible! If our -theories are substantial it is incredible. We met before in the Temple -of Atlantis, where the bearded priests chanted the day through. And you -were a great lady and I was a humble gladiator. That the gladiatorial -games and even the factions of the circus have a more remote antiquity -than Rome, I am certain. Who knows but that the last remnants of dying -Atlantis were not the first peoples of Etruscan civilisation ...?”</p> - -<p>Her fine eyes agreed with that theory. They said as plainly as though -the words were spoken: “How brilliant of you to associate Etruria with -the mythical civilisation of Atlantis!”</p> - -<p>On the other hand, her eyes did not say many things that she thought.</p> - -<p>“What is so fine about friendship,” Gordon was going on, “is that we -have lifted common interest above the sordid range of philanderism.”</p> - -<p>“How’s that?”</p> - -<p>Her head was bent forward eagerly, enquiringly. Trenter had the same -trick, only he looked pained.</p> - -<p>“I mean”—Gordon Selsbury flicked a crumb of cake daintily from his -knee—“we have never tar<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span>nished the bright surface of our friendship -with that weakness which is so glibly styled ‘love.’<span class="lftspc">”</span></p> - -<p>“Oh!” Heloise van Oynne sat back in her basket chair. “That’s so,” she -said, and if there was a sense of immense satisfaction in her tone, even -one attuned to her spiritual wavelength would not have observed the -circumstance.</p> - -<p>“The perfect sympathy, the perfect understanding, the dovetailing of -mind into mind, the oneness of a mutual soul—these transcend all -sentient impressions, whatever be the label they bear.”</p> - -<p>She smiled slowly and with infinite sweetness and comradeship. Heloise -invariably smiled at Gordon that way when she wasn’t quite sure what he -was talking about. Though, as to souls——</p> - -<p>“The soul is certainly the finest thing we have around,” she said, in -deep thought. “That’s where we’ve got most people skinned—I should say, -at a disadvantage, you and I, Gordon. One doesn’t like to bare one’s -heart; one shrinks instinctively even from self-revelation.”</p> - -<p>She sighed as one who had got through an exercise of considerable -difficulty. Then, observing by certain signs that he had only, so to -speak, removed the lid of his introspections and that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span> real contents -of his mind would shortly spill, to be gathered up and replaced by her -none too sure hands, she interjected hastily:</p> - -<p>“You were telling me, Gordon, about a cousin of yours in Australia—she -must certainly be interesting, and I’m just mad to hear about your -relations. I like you, Gordon—a lot. There’s nothing about you that -doesn’t fascinate me.”</p> - -<p>She laid a gloved hand on his knee. No other woman could lay a hand, -gloved or ungloved, on Gordon Selsbury’s knee without his calling for -the police. But Heloise ... he laid his hand gently on hers.</p> - -<p>“Diana? Well, really, I know nothing about her except that she had that -tremendous affair with a fellow called Dempsi. I told you that. She’s -very well off, I believe. I’ve taken a little notice of her—sent her a -few books and a word or two of advice. I often think that a man’s advice -is ever so much more acceptable to a young girl than a woman’s. When -were we talking about her? Oh, of course, I remember! It was when we had -that tremendous talk on the growth of the Ego....”</p> - -<p>“Is she fair or dark?” Heloise nimbly blocked the road to metaphysics.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span></p> - -<p>“I really don’t know. I had a letter from my aunt—her aunt also—just -before the poor creature died. She said that Diana had forgotten Dempsi -and wondered where she could get his photograph—the man is dead. Has it -ever occurred to you, Heloise, how absurd are such terms as life and -de——”</p> - -<p>“Diana!” mused Heloise, aloud. “Poor little Australian girl. I should -like to meet her, Gordon.”</p> - -<p>Gordon shook his head, smiling gently.</p> - -<p>“I cannot imagine anything less likely,” he said, “than your meeting -her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span>”</p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cheynel Gardens</span> is one of those very select thoroughfares that no -cab-driver has ever found without the assistance of a local guide. -Taximen have “heard of it,” dimly remember having dropped a fare there -at some time or other; but where it is, only the police and the postmen -know. Often people who live in Cheynel Gardens have only the haziest -idea whether they are in Mayfair or Marylebone.</p> - -<p>Gordon occupied a corner house that had a garden, probably the garden -after which the thoroughfare was named, for there was no other. If a -garden can be so called that consists of a twelve by ten paved courtyard -occupied by two large bushes in tubs.</p> - -<p>It was the last house on the left as you turned in from Brook Street, a -handsome, sober pile of red brick and yellow sandstone, with a big study -to which stained-glass windows gave the appearance of a well-furnished -chapel.</p> - -<p>His study was indeed a holy place, for none<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span> entered without invitation. -It had two doors, one of thick oak, one of deadening baize, so that no -sound might disturb Gordon’s close and careful scrutiny of <i>The -Economist</i>, which, with the <i>Insurance Review</i>, formed his light -reading. By day he perused <i>The Times</i>, by night he read heavy studies -in sociology, or, if he were tired, <i>Zur Genealogie der -Moral</i>—Nietzsche being one of his favourite authors.</p> - -<p>He descended from the cab that brought him home, gave the driver a ten -per cent. tip worked out to the nearest penny, and erring on his own -side, and walked slowly up the steps. The door opened instantly. It was -part of the daily ritual. Trenter took his hat, his walking-stick and -his gloves, and Gordon said:</p> - -<p>“No letters?”</p> - -<p>If Trenter had said no, the ritual would have been interrupted.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, and——”</p> - -<p>No need to say more. Gordon was staring at four immense trunks that -almost completely covered the floor space of the hall. Three of them -were conspicuously labelled “Not wanted on voyage.” The fourth had a big -red “Cabin” pasted on its side.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span></p> - -<p>“What—on—earth—are—these?” asked Gordon breathlessly.</p> - -<p>“The young lady arrived this afternoon, sir.” Trenter was all a-twitter.</p> - -<p>“The young lady arrived—which young lady, may I ask?”</p> - -<p>“Miss Ford, sir.”</p> - -<p>Gordon’s forehead wrinkled. He had heard the name in some connection. -Ford ... Ford? It was familiar.</p> - -<p>“No, sir—Miss Diana Ford from Australia.”</p> - -<p>The cousin! Mr. Selsbury inclined his head graciously. The instincts of -hospitality were not entirely atrophied, and the Selsburys were a race -of courtly men.</p> - -<p>“Will you tell Miss Ford I am returned and will be glad to see her in -The Study?”</p> - -<p>Trenter’s face twitched.</p> - -<p>“She’s in The Study, sir,” he almost pleaded. “I told her that nobody -ever went when you were away and that I kept it locked.”</p> - -<p>Gordon was taken aback. It is disconcerting to a host to find his -hospitality anticipated and taken as a right.</p> - -<p>“Indeed!” he said, and smiled. “Miss Ford<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span> couldn’t be expected to -understand our ways, Trenter. I will see her.”</p> - -<p>He knocked at the door and a voice bade him enter.</p> - -<p>“I am delighted to meet you, Cousin Diana,” he said, and looked round to -discover how she might be met.</p> - -<p>Then from his favourite chair a white hand appeared.</p> - -<p>“Come in, Gordon.... I’m sure it’s Gordon.”</p> - -<p>She jumped up and round to face him. She had taken off her shoes for -greater comfort, and in her silk-stockinged feet looked very small. He -thought she was pretty, just as he would have thought that a kitten was -pretty. How very amusing.</p> - -<p>“Well, young lady,” he said with paternal good-humour, “so here you are! -I never expected to see you. Have you had a good voyage——?”</p> - -<p>“Are you married?” She asked the question rather tensely.</p> - -<p>“No, I’m not married. I’m a confirmed old bachelor.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” She sighed happily. “I was awfully scared of that -complication—you haven’t kissed me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Gordon was not aware that he had not kissed her, any more than he was -aware that he had not hit her on the head with the book he was carrying. -The Selsburys were a courtly race. He stooped and struck her gently with -his lips.</p> - -<p>“Sit down, my dear—you will have tea, of course? I am truly sorry that -I kept you waiting. Where are you staying?”</p> - -<p>She flashed one look at him.</p> - -<p>“Here,” she said.</p> - -<p>For a second he could not comprehend.</p> - -<p>“I mean, what hotel—where are you—er—sleeping to-night?”</p> - -<p>“Here,” said Diana.</p> - -<p>In moments of crisis Gordon never lost his head. He once stood on the -deck of a sinking cross-Channel steamer discussing the atomic theory -with a Cambridge don. He had twice heard burglars in the house, and had -often been called upon without notice at public meetings to propose the -health of the chairman.</p> - -<p>“You mean that you are coming to stay with me—for a little while? I -would be delighted, but unfortunately this is a bachelor establishment. -There are no women in the house except the domestic staff.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>He spoke kindly; his argument was logical, his attitude correct in every -detail.</p> - -<p>“You want a woman about the house; it was very nearly time I came,” she -said, as unflurried as Gordon himself.</p> - -<p>He stifled his sigh. The position was embarrassing—other men would have -been thrown off their feet and either lost their tempers or behaved in -some way hurtfully.</p> - -<p>“I shall be delighted to have you here—for a few days,” he smiled. “So -run along and telephone to your chaperone and ask her to bring her -trunks here——”</p> - -<p>Diana pulled on her shoes, unconcerned.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been admiring your oars,” she said. “You rowed six, didn’t -you—and won! How splendid!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes—er—yes.” Gordon was not proud of his bygone athleticism. “Or -shall I telephone?”</p> - -<p>“To whom?” innocently.</p> - -<p>“To your chaperone ... the lady with whom you are travelling....”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be silly.”</p> - -<p>He stiffened; went limp again: turned a shade paler.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span></p> - -<p>“I travelled alone—as much alone as one can be with a hundred and fifty -saloon passengers who played deck games and enjoyed them. An -intellectual woman can have no possible community of interest with -people who enthuse over bucket quoits.”</p> - -<p>A chair was within reach of his hand and he sat down. Men like Gordon -Selsbury seldom lose grip of a situation, however awkward it may be. The -sheer weight of their wisdom and their personality has a tendency to -roll flat obstacles of the most tremendous nature.</p> - -<p>“Now I’m going to be a father and an uncle and a wise old cousin to -you,” he said, good nature rigidly and obstinately imprinted in his -smile. “You’re a young girl and somebody has got to tell you that you -cannot stay alone—er—as the guest of a bachelor.”</p> - -<p>She stood, her hands behind her, not the ghost of amusement in her face, -unmoved and immovable.</p> - -<p>“And I’ve got to tell you, Gordon Selsbury, that I not only can, but I’m -going to stay here! I am not responsible for your being a bachelor. You -ought to be married. It is unnatural to live in a big house like this by -yourself. I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span> come to stay and, possibly, keep house for you. You -must let me have a list of the dishes you like for breakfast. I like -grape fruit and hominy with a small crisp slice of bacon. At the same -time, Gordon, I am not averse to devilled kidneys <i>à la chef</i>—do you -like waffles? I’m crazy about them! We had a Japanese cook who made them -to perfection. Another wonderful breakfast dish is tomatoes chiffre....”</p> - -<p>“Diana,” he said gravely, “you are distressing me. Of course you can’t -<i>possibly</i> stay here! My dear child, I have to consider your good name; -in after years you will realise what a dreadful thing you have proposed. -Now, my dear, I’m going to ’phone Laridge’s Hotel and ask them to -reserve a nice room for you.”</p> - -<p>He half rose; her hands dropped to his shoulders and she pushed him -down. It was surprising how strong she was.</p> - -<p>“Let us have no scandal,” said Diana firmly. “There is only one way to -get me out of this house and that is for you to send for a policeman. -And a single policeman could do very little. I have an automatic in my -dressing-bag.... I shall not hesitate to shoot.”</p> - -<p>He gazed at her in horror. She returned the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span> gaze without reproach, -without doubt. She had the Will to Stay. He recognised a variation of -the Nietzsche principle.</p> - -<p>“There is only one thing left for me to do, Diana,” he said. His gravity -was so profound that he intoned his speech; it became a Gregorian chant -in the minor key. “I must go out from my house and leave you here. I -myself must take a room in a near hotel.”</p> - -<p>“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” she said. “If you do I shall put -advertisements in all the papers:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“Missing from his home since Friday, Mr. Gordon Selsbury. Tall, -fair, fresh complexion, rather good-looking.”</p></div> - -<p>Gordon licked dry lips. Life was drab and sordid, but nothing in life -was quite so vulgar and hateful as the popular press. The only time in -his life that he had ever experienced a nightmare, the vision had taken -a particularly hideous shape. He dreamt that he had been locked up for -smothering a chorus girl, and was ordered by the judge to write his -impressions of the murder in a Sunday newspaper.</p> - -<p>“You will perhaps think better of this in a few<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span> days,” he said huskily. -“I feel sure that, when you realise what you are doing——”</p> - -<p>She sat down at his beautifully tidy writing-table, took up a pen, and -snatched from his stationery rack a sheet of notepaper.</p> - -<p>“Now tell me what you like for breakfast,” she said. “Smoked haddock ... -salmon steak ... fish is good for the brain. Do you mind if I call you -Gord?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span>”</p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">One</span> day Diana came back from a conscientious tour of the stores and -found a thin and middle-aged lady sitting in the drawing-room. She -greeted Diana with a deferential smile. She was such a middle-aged lady -as might have stepped from the pages of a late Victorian novel, and -Diana regarded her steadily, for she wore no hat, had the skimpy -beginnings of a purple wool jumper on her knees, and in her hands two -knitting needles that seemed to be operating of their own volition all -the time she talked.</p> - -<p>“Good afternoon! You’re Miss Ford, aren’t you, my dear? I’m Miss -Staffle, and I do hope we are going to be good friends!”</p> - -<p>“I hope so,” said Diana. “We’ll be better friends when I understand. Are -you a guest of ours?”</p> - -<p>Click-flash-flicker went the needles. Diana looked in awe. She was the -only woman in the world who had never knitted a jumper.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span></p> -<p>“Well ... yes. Mr. Selsbury thought you would be rather lonely. It -doesn’t do for us girls to be too much alone. We brood.”</p> - -<p>“I’m brooding at this minute.” Diana was very incisive in business -hours. “Do I understand that you have been engaged as a chaperone?”</p> - -<p>“Companion,” murmured Miss Staffle.</p> - -<p>“That makes it easier,” Diana opened her pocket-book. “Your salary -is——?”</p> - -<p>Miss Staffle murmured the amount.</p> - -<p>“Here is two months’ pay,” said Diana. “I have decided not to engage a -companion.”</p> - -<p>She rang the bell; the needles became stationary.</p> - -<p>“Eleanor,” to the svelte parlourmaid, “Miss Staffle is leaving before -tea. Will you see that her boxes are brought down, and tell Trenter to -have a nice clean taxi waiting?”</p> - -<p>“But, my dear”—Miss Staffle’s voice was slightly acidulated—“Mr. -Selsbury engaged me, and I am afraid....”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Selsbury doesn’t want a companion,” said Diana. “Now, my angel, are -you going to give me trouble, or are you going to be a sweet little -cherub and fly?”</p> - -<p>Gordon came home prepared to face a storm<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span> and ready to present a rocky -face either to the waves of her wrath or the drizzle of her tears. He -found her trying a new record on a brand-new gramophone, her feet moving -lightly to the magical rhythm of “I Ain’t Nobody’s Darling.” He resented -the gramophone, but had other matters of greater moment to discuss. -There was no sign of the excellent Miss Staffle.</p> - -<p>“Anybody been?” he asked carelessly.</p> - -<p>She stopped whistling.</p> - -<p>“Nobody except an elderly lady who made the curious mistake of thinking -I wanted a companion.”</p> - -<p>“Where is she?” asked Gordon, his heart sinking.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t trouble to take her address,” said Diana. “Why—did you want -her?”</p> - -<p>“You sent her away?”</p> - -<p>Diana nodded.</p> - -<p>“Yes; her industry was appalling.” And then, as a thought occurred: “Was -the jumper for <i>you</i>?”</p> - -<p>“You sent a—er—um—person I engaged away from my house?” sternly. -“Really, Diana! This is a little too much! Let’s have this out, my -dear.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Diana changed the record.</p> - -<p>“Tea will be served in ten minutes,” she said. “And Gordon, my dear, -your shoes are muddy. Run up and change them.”</p> - -<p>Revolt flew red signals on his cheeks.</p> - -<p>“I will do nothing of the kind!” he said sharply. “I will not be ordered -about in my own house. Diana, you have gone too far! This intolerable -situation must end here and now.”</p> - -<p>He brought his hand slapping down on the back of the easy chair. He was -determined.</p> - -<p>“Either you or I leave this house to-night,” he said. “I have had -enough! Already the servants are talking. I saw a particularly sinister -smile on Trenter’s face when you came down to breakfast in your negligee -this morning. I have a position, a reputation, a name in the City of -London—I must guard my interests against the thoughtless, selfish folly -of reckless adolescence!”</p> - -<p>“What a name to call a lady!” she said reproachfully.</p> - -<p>“I will not temporise; I will not allow a very serious situation to be -turned into a jest. Either you leave Cheynel Gardens or I.”</p> - -<p>She thought a moment, then walked out of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span> room. Gordon heard her at -the telephone in the hall and smiled. A little firmness was all that was -required.</p> - -<p>“Is that the <i>Morning Telegram</i>? This is Miss Diana Ford speaking. Will -you send a reporter to 61 Cheynel Gardens——”</p> - -<p>In two seconds he was in the hall and had covered the transmitter with a -frantic hand.</p> - -<p>“What are you going to do?” he asked frenziedly.</p> - -<p>She shrugged a shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Life without you is insupportable, Gordon,” she said brokenly. “You are -the only relation I have in the world, and if you turn me out what is -there left but the river?”</p> - -<p>“You’re mad,” he wailed.</p> - -<p>“The coroner will take that charitable view, I hope—don’t interrupt me, -Gordon. They want to speak to me.”</p> - -<p>By sheer force he lifted her away from the instrument and took the -receiver in his own hand.</p> - -<p>“Don’t bother to send anybody ... she is quite well ... alive. I mean, -there’s no suicide ...”</p> - -<p>Out of breath, he strode back to The Study.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Your conduct is abominable! You are shameless! I can well understand -why your wretched Dempsi ran away, preferring to die in the bush than be -any longer associated with such an infernal little termagant!”</p> - -<p>The Selsburys were a courtly people, but there was a limit to their -patience. He was savage, cruel, and knew he was behaving unpardonably -before the words were out of his mouth.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry,” he muttered.</p> - -<p>Her face was set, a mask that showed nothing of her thoughts.</p> - -<p>“I’m extremely sorry. I shouldn’t have said that—please forgive me.”</p> - -<p>Still she did not speak. Her eyes were tragic in their steadfast, -unwinking gaze. He stole quietly from the room, and then she spoke her -thoughts aloud.</p> - -<p>“How absurd not to have the telephone connected with the study! I’ll -write to the Post Office this very night.”</p> - -<p>A very silent dinner. Gordon was going out and was resplendent in his -raiment.</p> - -<p>“I am taking a friend to a theatre to-night,” he said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span></p> - -<p>“I haven’t seen a show for years,” she sighed.</p> - -<p>“This would not interest you. It is a Russian play dealing with social -unrest.”</p> - -<p>She sighed again.</p> - -<p>“I love Russian plays. All the characters die so nicely and you know -where you are. In a musical comedy you can never be sure who anybody -is.”</p> - -<p>Gordon shuddered.</p> - -<p>“This is not a play for a young girl,” he said gently.</p> - -<p>She was unconvinced.</p> - -<p>“If you very much wanted me to come, I could dress in five minutes,” she -suggested. “I hardly know what I shall do with myself to-night.”</p> - -<p>“Think out to-morrow’s breakfast,” he said bitterly.</p> - -<p>Alone, she gave her mind alternately to serious thought and the new -gramophone. She did think of Dempsi sometimes, and a little uneasily. -Not that she had loved that strange progeny of Michael Dempsi and Marie -Stezzaganni. Dempsi came into her life as an earthquake intrudes upon -the domesticity of a Californian farmer. He shifted the angle of things -and had been a great disturbance. She never really re<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span>membered Dempsi, -except that he was very slight and very wiry and very voluble. She -remembered that he had thrown himself at her feet, had threatened to -shoot her, had told her he adored her and was ready to forsake his -career in the church. Finally, on a hot February morning (she remembered -that the roses were thick in the big garden) he had flung his worldly -possessions at her feet, taken an intense and tearful farewell, and had -dashed madly into the bush, never to return.</p> - -<p>In point of fact, the nearest bush country was a hundred miles away, but -he had said that he was going to the bush “to end a life already -prolonged beyond the limits of human endurance and find forgetfulness in -oblivion,” and he had probably kept his word. So far as the “bush” part -of the contract was concerned. She did not mourn him. If she wondered at -all, it was as to the circumstances in which he would reappear and claim -some eight thousand pounds neatly tied in one package that it might be -the more effectively and dramatically thrown at her feet, and which in -truth missed her feet by a wide margin and struck the station cat, who, -being newly maternal, flew at Dempsi and accelerated his wild flight.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span> -She did not tell her aunt about the eight thousand; Mrs. Tetherby being, -as she had been described, “inert,” had an objection to fuss of any -kind. More than this, she possessed one curious weakness—a horror of -debt. The knowledge that she was under monetary obligation kept her -awake. An overlooked garage account once reduced her to a state of -nervous prostration. Other people’s money she would not touch, and, on -an occasion when, having paid her shearers, she was requested by the men -to keep the money from Saturday to Monday, she paced the verandah for -two nights, a shot gun under her arm.</p> - -<p>It was largely due to this weakness that all money affairs were in -Diana’s hands from the age of fifteen. Diana put the eight thousand to -her own account and spent an interesting three months planning and -drawing expensive memorials to the departed Dempsi. In the back pages of -a dictionary, under the heading “Foreign words and phrases,” she -discovered an appropriate epitaph.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">SATIS ELOQUENTIÆ SAPIENTIÆ PARUM<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“He had great eloquence but little sense.”</p> - -<p>As the years passed, and her uneasiness increased, she made half-hearted -attempts to dis<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span>cover his relatives, though she knew that he was without -so much as a known cousin. And then, gradually, Dempsi had receded into -the background. She was beloved of a romantic squatter. This affair -ended abruptly when the romantic squatter’s unromantic wife arrived in a -high-powered car and bore him off to serve the remainder of his -sentence.</p> - -<p>Diana gave exactly five minutes of her thoughts to Dempsi. For the -remainder of the evening she practised a new waltz step which had -surprisingly found its way into jazz.</p> - -<p>“What I can’t understand,” said Trenter, “is why the boss allows this -sort of thing to go on. It’s downright improper, a young woman living in -a bachelor’s house. It reminds me of a case old Superbus once told me -about—he’s a court bailiff and naturally he sees the seamy side of -life——”</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t have a bailiff for a friend if you paid me a million,” said -Eleanor, who had been brought up in an atmosphere of financial -embarrassment. “I’d sooner have a burglar. Don’t you worry about our -young Di, Arthur. She’s all there! Personally speaking, I’m glad she’s -arrived. What about me—haven’t I any morals?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span> Hasn’t me and cook—cook -and I, that is to say—lived in the same house with a bachelor for a -year?”</p> - -<p>“You’re different,” said Trenter.</p> - -<p>“Guess again,” said Eleanor.</p> - -<p>“The house hasn’t been what it was.” A touch of sadness in Trenter’s -voice had its origin in obscure sources.</p> - -<p>Methodical as Gordon was, he never counted his cigars. Diana, on the -other hand, had an eye for quantity. It was she who asked delicately -whether he thought there were mice in the house, and, if so, did he -think that they preferred Coronas to cheese.</p> - -<p>“There’s a big change coming—a terrific change. I feel it in my bones,” -he said. “And I know! I’ve always had second sight even as a boy.”</p> - -<p>“You should wear glasses,” said Eleanor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">On</span> an afternoon in late summer Heloise van Oynne looked across the -darkening river, seemed for a moment absorbed in the gay lighting of one -of the moored house-boats, and then:</p> - -<p>“Tell me some more about Diana, please. She must be fas-cinating!” she -pleaded.</p> - -<p>Her companion shifted a little uncomfortably. He had already said more -about Diana than he wished or intended saying.</p> - -<p>“Well ... you know all about Diana. I hope you will meet her ... some -day.”</p> - -<p>There was just that little pause before the last word that meant so much -to a woman with an acute sense of tone, and Heloise was supersensitive -because it was her business to be. To-day she seemed unusually ethereal.</p> - -<p>She was pretty, slim (Diana would have called her “skinny”), -spirituelle. In the deep, dark eyes was mystery ... elusiveness; -something that occasionally made his flesh creep pleasantly.</p> - -<p>Gordon Selsbury was not in love. He was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span> not the easily loving kind. It -pleased him to know that he had a mystery of his own—he had once been -described as “sphinx-like.”</p> - -<p>If Diana had been older and were not his cousin, and had not in her -masterful way installed herself in his house, defiant of the -conventions, and were not so infernally sarcastic and -self-sufficient—well, he might feel nicer toward her.</p> - -<p>Talking of Diana....</p> - -<p>He looked at the watch on his wrist. He had told her he would be in for -dinner. Heloise saw the movement and smiled inwardly.</p> - -<p>“Was it serious, that affair of hers?” she asked gently.</p> - -<p>Gordon coughed. Heloise never met him but she talked of Diana’s affair. -It was a curious piece of femininity that he did not expect to find in a -woman. Not his kind of woman.</p> - -<p>He was relieved of the necessity for answering.</p> - -<p>“Who is that man, Gordon?”</p> - -<p>The skiff had passed twice under the hotel terrace where they sat at tea -that afternoon, and twice the big, red-faced man had peered up at the -two people.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. Shouldn’t we be going?”</p> - -<p>She made no attempt to rise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span></p> - -<p>“When do I see you again, Gordon? Life is so blank and miserable without -you. Does Diana monopolise you so entirely? People wouldn’t understand, -would they? I don’t love you and you do not love me. If you thought I -loved you, you would never see me again.” She laughed quietly. “It is -just your soul and mind”—her voice was very low—“just the clear -channel of understanding that makes our minds as one. Love doesn’t bring -that, or marriage.”</p> - -<p>“It is rather wonderful.” He nodded many times. “Extraordinary—people -would never understand.”</p> - -<p>She thought they wouldn’t.</p> - -<p>“I’m just aching for The Day to come,” she said, staring across the -river. “I don’t think it ever will come: not The Day of my dreams.”</p> - -<p>Gordon Selsbury had this premonition too; had been waiting all afternoon -to translate his doubt into words.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been thinking the matter over, Heloise—that trip to Ostend. Of -course, it would be lovely seeing one another every day and all day, and -living, if not under the same roof, at least in the same environment. -The uninterrupted contact of mind—that is beautifully appealing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span> But -do you think it wise? I am speaking, of course, from your point of view. -Scandal doesn’t touch a man grossly.”</p> - -<p>She turned her glorious eyes to his.</p> - -<p>“<span class="lftspc">‘</span>They say: what say they? Let them say,’<span class="lftspc">”</span> she quoted contemptuously.</p> - -<p>He shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Your name is very precious to me,” he said, not without a hint of -emotion, “very precious, Heloise. I feel that, although the Ostend -season is past and most of the hotels are closed and visitors have -dispersed, as I understand they do disperse from fashionable seaside -resorts, there is a possibility, a bare possibility, that we should see -somebody there who knew me—us, I mean—and who would put the worst -possible construction upon what—er—would be the most innocent -intellectual recreation. It is extremely dangerous.”</p> - -<p>She was laughing hardly as she rose.</p> - -<p>“I see,” she said. “You are really conventional underneath, Gordon. It -was a mad idea—don’t let us talk any more about it. It hurts me a -little.”</p> - -<p>In silence he paid the bill, in silence followed her into his car. He -was hurt too. Nobody had<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span> ever called him conventional. Half way across -Richmond Park he said:</p> - -<p>“We will go: let us say no more. I will meet you as we arranged.”</p> - -<p>The only answer she made was to squeeze his arm until they were flying -down Roehampton Lane, and then, dreamily:</p> - -<p>“There is something Infinite in friendship like ours, Man. It is all too -wonderful....”</p> - -<p>Diana was reading a magazine in The Study when Gordon came in. She threw -down the magazine and jumped up from the chair (she sat at his desk when -she read, with the exasperating result that the writing surface, which -he left neat and ordered on his going out, was generally in a state of -chaos on his coming in).</p> - -<p>“Dinner,” she said tersely. “You’re late, Gord, devilishly late.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Selsbury’s expression was pained.</p> - -<p>“I wish you would not call me ‘Gord,’ Diana,” he complained gently. “It -sounds—well, blasphemous.”</p> - -<p>“But oh, it fits,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t know how it -fits!”</p> - -<p>Gordon shrugged his shoulders.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span></p> - -<p>“At any rate, ‘devilish’ is not ladylike.”</p> - -<p>“Where have you been?” she asked with that disconcerting brusqueness of -hers.</p> - -<p>“I have been detained——”</p> - -<p>“Not at your office,” said Diana promptly, as she sat down at the table -and pointed an accusing finger. “You haven’t been back since luncheon.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Selsbury cast a resigned look at the ceiling.</p> - -<p>“I have been detained on a purely private business matter,” he said -stiffly.</p> - -<p>“Dear, dear!” said Diana, unimpressed.</p> - -<p>Nothing really impressed Diana. She had, she boasted, passed the -impressionable age.</p> - -<p>Gordon had come to admit to himself that she was pretty; in a way she -was beautiful. She had blue eyes, willow pattern blue, and a skin like -satin. He admitted that her figure was rather lovely. If she had been -older or younger, if her hair had not been bobbed—if she had a little -more respect for wisdom, an appreciation of thought, a little something -of hero-worship!</p> - -<p>He strolled gloomily to the window and stared blankly into the dusk. -Diana was an insoluble problem.</p> - -<p>Trenter came in at that moment.</p> - -<p>“Trenter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir.” The butler crossed to his employer.</p> - -<p>“Do you see that man on the other side of the road—that red-faced man?”</p> - -<p>It was the stranger of the skiff. Gordon recognised him at once.</p> - -<p>“I’ve seen him before to-day ... rather a coincidence.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” agreed Trenter. “That’s Mr. Julius Superbus.”</p> - -<p>Gordon gaped at him.</p> - -<p>“Julius Superbus—what the devil do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“Language!” murmured a voice in the background. How like Diana.</p> - -<p>“What on earth do you mean? That is a Roman name.”</p> - -<p>Trenter smirked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir. Mr. Superbus is a Roman, the last Roman left in England. He -comes from Cæsar Magnus—it’s a little village near Cambridge. I used to -be in service there, that’s how I come to know him.”</p> - -<p>Gordon frowned heavily. By what strange chance had he come to see this -oddly named creature twice in one day—at Hampton, rowing a boat with -some labour; in Cheynel Gardens, ap<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span>parently absorbed in the study of a -near-by lamp-post?</p> - -<p>“What is he—by profession?”</p> - -<p>“A detective, sir,” said Trenter.</p> - -<p>Gordon went suddenly pale.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sometimes</span>, mostly all the time, Gordon forgot that before the name of -Heloise van Oynne was that magical prefix “Mrs.” Too nice-minded to -discover, even by an indirect method, the extent of her indiscretion, -Gordon had conceived in his mind a marriage between two persons -diametrically unsuited one to the other. He fashioned Mr. van Oynne in -the image of a gross, unimaginative business man, without soul, and saw -dimly a struggle between opposing ideals; sullen fury or blank -indifference on the man’s part, and, in the case of Heloise, a refined -suffering and an infinite restlessness in her, until there came into her -life the other half of her intellectual being. Which was Gordon.</p> - -<p>He looked out of the window again.</p> - -<p>Mr. Julius Superbus was deliberately charging a black pipe from a -sealskin tobacco pouch. He seemed the kind of man who would stoop to the -meanest methods to gain his ends. And a prurient brute who would think -nothing of writing<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span> reports highly disparaging to a slim, aesthetic -girl. A detective! In desperation he turned to Diana.</p> - -<p>“Diana, do you mind if I have The Study for a little while? I want to -see a man.”</p> - -<p>She waved a cheery farewell as she disappeared through the door at the -far end of the room.</p> - -<p>“Bring him in.”</p> - -<p>“Bring him in, sir?” Trenter was intrigued.</p> - -<p>Gordon repeated the order.</p> - -<p>“He’s not a gentleman, sir,” warned Trenter, desiring exculpation in -advance.</p> - -<p>This was in case Mr. Superbus was even less of a gentleman than he -thought him to be. Gordon has never any illusions on the subject. He -said as much tersely, and Trenter went forth in a spirit of joyful -anticipation, knowing that the nature of this interview would be -repeated to him when next he met his friend.</p> - -<p>A wait, and then:</p> - -<p>“Mr. Superbus, sir,” said Trenter correctly. He bowed the visitor into -the study, and withdrew.</p> - -<p>There was nothing in the appearance of Mr. Superbus that was suggestive -of Roman culture at its zenith. He was very short, and waddled<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span> rather -than walked. He was fat so that, if he were standing on two square feet -of his own property, his waistcoat might have been arrested for trespass -on neighbouring land. His face was very red and broad; he had a stubbly -black moustache, which was obviously dyed; on his otherwise bald head, -twenty-seven hairs were parted, thirteen on one side and fourteen on the -other. He had often counted them.</p> - -<p>He stood, breathing audibly and twisting his hat in his blue hands.</p> - -<p>“Sit down, Mr. Superbus,” said Gordon awkwardly. “Trenter was telling me -that you are—in fact, you have the distinction of being a Roman?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus bent forward before he sat, as though to assure himself -that his feet were all present and correct.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” he said, in a rich, deep voice. “I believe I am. Us -Superbusses”—he gave the word a pronunciation which suggested that he -had been named after a public vehicle of unusual size—“have come down -for generations. There’s only four of us now—there’s me, my brother -Augustus, who’s married to a young woman in Coventry; there’s Agrippa, -who’s doing very well<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span> with her third husband—this one doesn’t drink, -I’m happy to say—and there’s Scipius: he’s on the stage.”</p> - -<p>“Really!” said Gordon, dazzled for the moment.</p> - -<p>“Yes, he’s on the stage,” said Mr. Superbus with great satisfaction, -“and doing very well. They say he’s the best carpenter they’ve ever had -at the Gaiety. Yes, we’re an ancient family. I’ve never got the rights -of it, but an old gentleman who lives at Cambridge told me that, if -everybody had his due, I ought to be a member of the Roman Royal Family, -being the eldest.”</p> - -<p>Near Cæsar Magnus is the University of Cambridge, and there have been -soured antiquarians who have suggested that the illustrious family of -Superbus owed its origin to the freakish whim of certain freshmen whose -gowns rustled in Petty Cury a hundred years ago. That these same -students, in their humour, had adopted the family of an indigent carter, -one Sooper, and had christened the family afresh. Mr. Superbus had heard -these rumours and had treated them with contempt.</p> - -<p>“How we came to start I don’t know,” he said, on his favourite topic; -“but you know what women are when Romans are about!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Gordon did not even trouble to guess.</p> - -<p>“Now, Mr. Superbus, you have—er—a very important position. You’re a -detective, I understand?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus nodded soberly.</p> - -<p>“It must be an interesting life, watching people,” he suggested, “going -into court and li—testifying to their various misdoings?”</p> - -<p>“I never go into court,” said Mr. Superbus. And here, apparently, he had -a grievance. “My work, so to speak, is commercial. Not that I shan’t go -into court if a certain coop comes off.”</p> - -<p>“Coop?” Gordon was puzzled.</p> - -<p>“Coop,” repeated Mr. Superbus emphatically.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean—coop? Are you looking for people who steal chickens?” -asked Gordon, at sea.</p> - -<p>“By ‘coop’ I mean—well, you know what I mean, sir. Suppose I bring off -a big bit of business—”</p> - -<p>“Oh, coup!” said Gordon, enlightened. “I see. You have a coup?”</p> - -<p>“I always called it coop myself,” said Mr. Superbus graciously, and -leaving Gordon with the impression that he was being humoured. “Yes, -I’ve got a coop up my sleeve.” He lowered his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span> voice and stretched -himself to as near Gordon as his body could reach. “I’m after Double -Dan,” he whispered hoarsely.</p> - -<p>A heavy burden rolled from Gordon’s heart. So the “Mrs.” had nothing to -do with the matter at all! Nor the gross husband, who thought more of -his dogs and his horses than of the flaming intellect of his beautiful -wife. (Gordon was thorough: the gross husband must have his pets.)</p> - -<p>“I seem to remember the name,” he said slowly. “Double Dan? Isn’t that -the man who impersonates people?”</p> - -<p>“You’ve got it, sir,” said Mr. Superbus. “He don’t impersonate them, he -<i>is</i> them! Take Mr. Mendlesohn——”</p> - -<p>Now Gordon remembered.</p> - -<p>“You’d never think anybody could impersonate him, though, with his white -whiskers and him not being married, it wasn’t so hard. He got away with -eight thousand pounds, did Dan. Got Mr. Mendlesohn out of the way, -walked into his private office and sent a new clerk out with a cheque. -That’s why Mr. Mendlesohn’s gone into the country. He daren’t hold up -his head.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I see,” said Gordon slowly. “You’re acting on behalf of——?”</p> - -<p>“The Brokers’ Association—he goes after brokers.”</p> - -<p>Gordon seldom laughed, but he was laughing softly now.</p> - -<p>“And you have been following me round to protect me, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Not exactly that, sir,” said Mr. Superbus with professional reserve. -“What I was trying to do was to get to know you, so that I’d make no -mistake if Dan tried to ‘double’ you.”</p> - -<p>“Have a cigar?” said Gordon.</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus said he didn’t mind if he did; that he would take it home, -and smoke it in the seclusion of his own house.</p> - -<p>“My good lady likes the smell of a cigar,” he said. “It keeps away the -moths. I’ve been married now for three and twenty years, and there isn’t -a better woman on the face of the earth than my good lady.”</p> - -<p>“A Roman?” asked Gordon.</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” replied Mr. Superbus gravely. “Devonshire.”</p> - -<p>Diana, coming into the room half an hour later, saw Gordon standing with -his back to the fireplace, his hands clasped behind him, his head -slightly bent, a picture of practical thought.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Who was that funny little man I saw go out of the house?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“He is a man named Superbus,” said Gordon, roused from his reverie with -a start, “who has been making certain enquiries. He’s been trying to -trace somebody who has robbed a man of eight thousand pounds.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” said Diana, and sat down quickly. The ghost of the late Mr. Dempsi -was very active at that moment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Diana</span> liked Bobbie Selsbury the moment she saw him. He was a smaller -edition of his brother, a brusque, cynical young man, with a passion for -revue and the more clingy variations of modern dancing. Also he was -engaged to a girl in Canada, and had no intense interest in any other -woman. She liked him most because he was entirely without that brand of -soul which wriggled so frequently under the scalpel of his brother.</p> - -<p>He came to dinner twice, and on the second occasion Gordon thought his -relative was on sufficiently good terms with his unwanted guest, to -discuss openly the impropriety of her continued stay.</p> - -<p>“Bobbie is what is known as a man of the world,” said Gordon. When -Gordon introduced the virtues of his friends, he did so in the manner of -a chairman at a public meeting bringing an unknown speaker to the notice -of an audience. “He has a keener concept of relative social values<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span> than -either I, who am a little old-fashioned, or you, my child, who have led -a cloistered life. I think we can safely leave the issue in Bobbie’s -hands. Now, Bobbie, I’m going to put the matter to you without -prejudice. Is it right that Diana should be staying in the same house as -I, without a chaperone?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see why she should want a chaperone with a dry old stick like -you,” said Bobbie instantly. “Besides, you’re cousins. She has certainly -made Cheynel Gardens a place worth visiting, which it never was before.”</p> - -<p>“But the world—” protested Gordon.</p> - -<p>“The other day you were telling me how superior you were to the world -and its opinions,” said the traitor Bobbie. “You told me that the views -of the hoi polloi passed you by without making the least impression. You -said that a man should rise superior to the test of public approval. You -said——”</p> - -<p>“What I said,” snapped Gordon testily, “had a general application to -certain schools of philosophical thought. It did not apply, and never -will apply, to questions of behaviour and propriety.”</p> - -<p>“Diana is here, and you’re a lucky devil to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span> somebody to darn your -socks. Does he pay you anything, Diana?”</p> - -<p>She shook her head.</p> - -<p>“I am living on my little capital,” she said plaintively, and Gordon -felt a brute, but it was not until the next morning that he raised the -subject again.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I’ve been rather thoughtless, Diana,” he said. “Will you -please buy anything you want and give me a note of any money you -require?”</p> - -<p>She leant back in her chair, laughing softly.</p> - -<p>“You dear goop!” she said. “Of course I don’t want money! I am rolling -in riches.”</p> - -<p>“Then why did you tell Bobbie——”</p> - -<p>“I like sympathy,” she said calmly. “And nobody gives me sympathy except -Eleanor. She’s rather a pretty girl, isn’t she?”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t noticed,” said Gordon.</p> - -<p>“I knew you hadn’t,” she said, “when I discovered that you’d never -kissed her.”</p> - -<p>Gordon’s mouth was occupied with bacon at the moment, but he stood up -and made an unearthly noise of protest.</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t ask servants such questions,” said Diana primly, “but a -woman has instincts, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span> there’s always a way of finding these things -out. Gordon, you are exonerated,” she added with a generous gesture.</p> - -<p>“Your philosophy of life is amazing,” he said, after he had recovered -some of his calm. “Whatever made you think I should kiss her?”</p> - -<p>“Because she’s pretty,” said Diana. “All men want to kiss pretty girls -if they’re normal. Lots of people have wanted to kiss me.”</p> - -<p>Gordon raised his eyebrows without looking up. He was not revolted; he -was simply resigned.</p> - -<p>“You haven’t asked me whether I let them,” she said after waiting.</p> - -<p>“I’m not interested,” said Gordon coldly.</p> - -<p>“Not a teeny weeny bit?”</p> - -<p>Anxiety was in her voice, but he was not deceived. He had learnt by hard -experience that when Diana was most wistful, she was usually gurgling -with internal laughter. A terrible girl.</p> - -<p>“I’ve only had two affairs,” she went on, regardless of his distaste. -“There was Dempsi and there was Dingo.”</p> - -<p>“Who was Dingo?” he was trapped into asking.</p> - -<p>“His name wasn’t really Dingo, it was Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span> Theophilus Shawn. He was a -married man with five children.”</p> - -<p>“Good God!” Gordon dropped his knife and fork on the plate helplessly.</p> - -<p>“He never kissed me,” she said. “His wife came and took him away just as -I was getting to like the smell of cloves—he used to eat cloves. He -said it made his hair grow. Whenever he ran short of cloves he got into -his car and drove to the hotel to get some. He’d go a dozen times a day. -He was staying with Auntie; she met him at a lecture on sunspots, but -she didn’t know anything about his wife until she came for him. She was -an awfully nice woman, and thanked me for looking after her husband. She -said she hadn’t seen him sober before—she was awfully interested in -him. I think wives should get to know their husbands before they’re -married, don’t you?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Selsbury sighed.</p> - -<p>“I think you’re talking a lot of abject nonsense,” he said, “and I wish -to heaven you’d get to know your husband!”</p> - -<p>She smiled, but did not reply. She felt that he had been shocked enough -for one day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span></p> - -<p>He was making as if to get up from the breakfast table when she -remembered a question she wanted to ask him.</p> - -<p>“Gordon, that man who came yesterday, the man with the Hebrew name——”</p> - -<p>“Roman. You mean Superbus?”</p> - -<p>She nodded.</p> - -<p>“Whom did he want?” she asked, playing with her serviette ring.</p> - -<p>“He was looking for a robber, a man named”—he cast up his eyes, trying -to recall the title—“Double Dan, a swindler.”</p> - -<p>“Is that so?” drawled Diana, her eyes on the tablecloth. “Are you going, -Gordon? What time will you be home?”</p> - -<p>“When my business permits me to return,” he said in his stateliest -fashion. “Do you realise, Diana, that nobody has ever asked me that -question in my life?”</p> - -<p>“Why, I ask you every day,” she said in wonder.</p> - -<p>“I mean, nobody except you. My comings and goings have never been -questioned, and for the life of me I don’t see why they should be -questioned now.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not questioning you, I’m merely asking<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span> you,” said Diana, -aggrieved. “I only want to know because of dinner.”</p> - -<p>“I may not be home to dinner,” said Gordon shortly, and went forth to an -actuarial orgy, for business had improved at an enormous rate recently, -and he was engaged in organising a new form of insurance.</p> - -<p>He had at least the will power to put out of his head a problem which -rippled the smooth current of his thoughts. Only in the luncheon hour -did he return to grapple with the projected soul tour. He wished that -Heloise had chosen some other venue than Ostend. Ostend in itself was -improper, and associated in all respectable minds with licence and -luxury. He felt that he might have been a little more firm about Diana -staying on at Cheynel Gardens if he himself had not outraged, or -contemplated the outrage of convention.... Convention was an ugly word, -a bourgeois word.... What he really meant was ... he thought in vain for -a synonym. The Ostend idea was a mad idea, and he wondered who had -thought of it. At the same time, there was no reason why he should be -recognised if he kept away from the quay, where the incoming Continental -boats pull in; and, if necessary, he could<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span> alter his appearance -slightly ... he went hot and cold at the thought. There was something -furtive and underhand about the very notion. Diana had made mock of -those little smears of sidewhiskers, and he never went to the barber but -that individual made some reference to the appendages. He had seriously -considered their removal. Especially since Heloise had wondered why he -wore them. She thought they made him look rather older than he was. It -would be in the nature of a subtle compliment to her if he appeared on -The Day clean-shaven. As to the other matter, one did not go to Ostend -in a morning coat and top hat. He might wear his sports suit or—but he -had a tailor with views, and to this merchant of habit he appealed on -his way home. The tailor listened alertly.</p> - -<p>“If you are going abroad, I should advise a couple of tweed suits. Grey -checks are being worn by everybody—a check with a little red in it. No, -sir, oh dear, no! Lord Furnisham had a suit of that character only last -month, and he, as you know, is a man of taste and refinement. <i>And</i> one -of the leading men at the Convocation of Laymen—a dear friend of the -Archbishop’s.”</p> - -<p>Gordon saw the patterns, was panic-stricken by<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span> their joviality. And -yet.... Who would recognise Gordon Selsbury in a fashionable grey check -with a little red in it?</p> - -<p>“Rather noisy, don’t you think?” he wavered.</p> - -<p>The tailor smiled tolerantly at a bolt of blue serge.</p> - -<p>“My clients do not think so,” he said. He was so great a tailor that he -had clients.</p> - -<p>“Very well.”</p> - -<p>Gordon gave the order. He told himself that he was not committed to the -trip. But if he did go, he possessed an outfit. That was a comfort.</p> - -<p>Heloise was staying at the Majestic (if it was still open). Gordon would -arrange for rooms at the Splendid—with the same contingency. They were -to meet after breakfast every morning and lunch together at a little -café on Place des Armes. On one day they would go to Bruges together and -see the pictures. A tour of the Littoral was a possibility. Between -whiles there were books to be discussed, the lectures of a brand-new -exponent of a brand-new philosophy to be attended. He held what may be -described as an ethical clinic at Mariakirk and was the original excuse -for the trip. A party of Thinkers was projected to sit at the feet of De -Waal (that was his name) and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span> learn laboriously the difference between -right and wrong, right being what had hitherto appeared to be wrong, and -wrong being proved, by the new school of thought and its principal -exegete, to be so absurdly right that the wonder was that nobody had -seen it all along. The party had fallen through. The new Master had been -discredited by a newer, a German who demonstrated that there was neither -right nor wrong in any kind of question whatsoever.</p> - -<p>Gordon’s dilemma was born of this projected Pilgrimage of Reason, and -one aspect of the holiday worried him: the possibility of something -happening which would make it imperative that he should be communicated -with.</p> - -<p>In reality this was the strongest argument against the trip. Only by -taking somebody into his confidence could such an adventure be -undertaken. Diana was, of course, impossible. Gordon pinched his lip and -rehearsed the terms in which he would convey to his agent the exact -character of his journey. His attempt to put into words so remarkable -and so unbelievable a project left him with a cold sense of dismay. Of -all the people he thought likely he started with Bobbie; he also ended -with Bobbie.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span></p> - -<p>Robert G. Selsbury had an office on Mark Lane, where, from ten o’clock -in the morning until four o’clock in the afternoon, he bought and sold -tea, coffee and sugar to his own considerable profit. Gordon had only -been to the office once. He thought it was rather stuffy and rather -redolent of the two principal commodities in which Bobbie dealt. His own -office in Queen Victoria Street was both rich and chaste and odourless, -except for the faint fragrance of lavender—Gordon was strong for -germicides, and that mostly employed to destroy the ravaging microbe had -that suggestion of the lavender fields. Bobbie never came to see his -brother without the sense that he ought to be wearing a boudoir cap and -bedroom slippers.</p> - -<p>The principal stockholder of R. G. Selsbury Ltd. was examining a sample -of china tea when his brother was announced.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Gordon?” asked Bobbie incredulously, and when the girl confirmed -the tidings: “Push him in,” he said, and Gordon, who would have resented -even the gentlest of pushes, entered unaided.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter?” asked Bobbie.</p> - -<p>Gordon seated himself very carefully, put down<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span> his glossy silk hat on -the table and slowly stripped his gloves.</p> - -<p>“Robert, I’m rather in a tangle and I want you to help me out.”</p> - -<p>“It can’t be money—it must be love. Who is she?”</p> - -<p>“It is neither money nor love,” retorted Gordon with some asperity. “It -is ... well, a delicate matter.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie whistled, and a whistle can be very offensive.</p> - -<p>“I’m going to tell you the facts.” Gordon had to struggle with himself; -he was on the point of inventing an excuse for calling and making a -hasty retreat.</p> - -<p>“Is it about Diana?”</p> - -<p>“No, it <i>isn’t</i> about Diana,” snapped the elder. “Diana has nothing -whatever to do with it. It is like this—old man....”</p> - -<p>The “old man” sobered Bobbie. It showed that his brother was not his -normal self. So he listened without interruption to the lamest story he -had ever heard; to the most transparent invention that had yet been -displayed for the scorn of sceptic.</p> - -<p>“Who is Mrs. van Oynne?” he asked at last.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span></p> - -<p>“She’s ... well, I don’t want to discuss her. I met her at a -conversazione of the Theosophical Society. She’s rather ... wonderful.”</p> - -<p>“I should say so,” said Bobbie drily. “Of course you won’t go?”</p> - -<p>It needed but this piece of assurance to decide Gordon.</p> - -<p>“Of course I <i>shall</i> go,” he said firmly. “I need the change; I need the -intellectual recreation.”</p> - -<p>“But why go to Ostend to discuss souls? What’s the matter with Battersea -Park?” insisted Bobbie. “It’s the most lunatic idea I have heard! And of -course, if you’re spotted in Ostend your name for henceforth and -everlasting will be Waste Product Esquire. I suppose you’re telling the -truth. From any other man I wouldn’t think twice about it; I’d know that -it was a clumsy lie. Have you thought of Diana?”</p> - -<p>A staggering question: Gordon was taken aback.</p> - -<p>“I don’t see how this affects Diana. What the dickens has she got to do -with it?”</p> - -<p>“She’s an inmate of your house,” said Bobbie, in a serious mood. “Any -reflection upon your good name is a reflection upon hers.”</p> - -<p>“She can leave—I wish to heaven she would<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span> leave!” retorted Gordon -viciously. “You don’t imagine that I intend allowing the possibility of -Diana knowing to stand in my way? She is an interloper—in a way I -despise her. She’s hateful to me sometimes. Are you going to help me or -aren’t you?”</p> - -<p>He flung the ultimatum across the table. Bobbie elected for peace.</p> - -<p>“I don’t suppose I shall have to wire to you much,” he said. “Nothing is -likely to turn up in your absence. What are you going to tell Diana?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Selsbury closed his eyes wearily.</p> - -<p>“Does it matter what I tell Diana?”</p> - -<p>A brave question. In his heart he knew that a story must be invented, -and a very plausible story.</p> - -<p>“I’m not a particularly nimble liar,” he said. “Think out something for -me.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie sniffed.</p> - -<p>“I am on my knees to you for the compliment,” he said, but irony was -wasted on Gordon. “Why not tell her you are going north for the -shooting?”</p> - -<p>“I dislike subterfuge,” Gordon deprecated with a wry face. “Why should I -tell her anything? When does shooting start?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“It has started. Go to Scotland: it is remote. You’re not likely to meet -anybody you know because you won’t be there.”</p> - -<p>Gordon thought the flippancy in bad taste.</p> - -<p>“It is repugnant to me—this necessity for invention,” he said. “Why -must I give an account of my comings and goings? It is preposterous! I -had better make my objective Aberdeen, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>Diana! Of all the absurd arguments that had been raised against the -Ostend trip, this was the most futile. The very mention of her name was -a spur. By the time he had reached Cheynel Gardens the trip was -definitely and irrevocably settled.</p> - -<p>He found a cable waiting for him at home. It was from his New York -agent, advising him that Mr. Tilmet would call upon him on the Friday, -and he realised with a shock that the to be, or not to be, of Ostend had -put out of his mind an important business deal. His agent had purchased -on his behalf the business of Tilmet and Voight, a none too prosperous -firm of marine insurance brokers, operating in one of those queerly -ancient offices on the Water Front. Mr. Tilmet had expressed a desire to -be paid the money, fifty thou<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span>sand dollars, in London, which he would -visit <i>en route</i> to the Continent. The documents had arrived by an -earlier mail, and Gordon had been advised that, the hour of Mr. Tilmet’s -arrival being uncertain, and his immediate departure for the more -attractive countries of Europe being very likely, Mr. Tilmet would call -at Cheynel Gardens to settle the deal. He glanced at the <i>Times</i> -shipping list, noted that the <i>Mauretania</i> had been signalled five -hundred miles west of the Lizard at twelve o’clock on the previous day, -and made a mental calculation. He must have the money in the house -to-morrow, though he objected emphatically to doing business except at -his office. Still, the circumstances were unusual and the bargain -excellent. He was not prepared to develop a grievance.</p> - -<p>Making a note on his memorandum pad, and a second note on the cover of -his cheque-book, he went up to dress. He was dining with Heloise, and -was carrying to her the news that he had made a decision in the matter -which she had thought, and which she had had every right to think, had -been settled beyond doubt.</p> - -<p>Coming down, he saw Diana on the stairs below. She also was in evening -dress, a wonderful<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span> creamy white. There were two ropes of pearls about -her neck; she wore no other jewellery. He followed her into The Study, -and, as she turned, stared. It was a transfigured Diana, something -ethereal, unearthly in her loveliness.</p> - -<p>“Why, Diana, you look awfully pretty,” he said.</p> - -<p>The generosity of his race compelled the statement.</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” she said indifferently. “I always look well in this colour. -You are dining out too, I see? Where are you going?”</p> - -<p>He hesitated.</p> - -<p>“I’m dining at the Ritz,” he said. “And you?”</p> - -<p>“I’m going to the Embassy. Mr. Collings is over here on business; he -called this afternoon. He’s my lawyer and a darling.”</p> - -<p>Gordon murmured something agreeable. Diana, at any rate, was off his -conscience for the night. And she certainly was lovely.</p> - -<p>Receptive to his unspoken admiration, she purred a little to herself, -then, to his wrath, undid the excellent impression that she had made by -unlocking a drawer in his sacred table.</p> - -<p>“I say, who gave you the key of that?” he asked indignantly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span></p> - -<p>“I found one that fitted,” she said, without embarrassment. “The drawer -was empty except for a few queer German books, so I threw them out and -had the lock changed. I must have some place to keep my things.”</p> - -<p>He choked down his rising ire.</p> - -<p>“What things have you got?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“My jewel case.”</p> - -<p>“That ought to be in the safe.”</p> - -<p>“What is the combination?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Telma,” he said, before he knew what he was saying. And not another -soul in the world knew that secret!</p> - -<p>Before his exasperation could find adequate expression, she had taken -from the drawer and laid on the desk a small black object, at the sight -of which Gordon recoiled.</p> - -<p>“You really ought not to keep firearms in the house, Diana,” he said -nervously. “If you go fooling with a thing like that, you might do -yourself an enormous amount of harm—in fact, kill yourself.”</p> - -<p>“Fiddlesticks!” said Diana. “I know that gun inside out. I could hit -that keyhole three times in the five”—she pointed to the door.</p> - -<p>“Well, don’t,” said he loudly. “Is it loaded?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“Naturally it’s loaded,” she replied, handling the weapon tenderly. -“There’s nothing in the breach, but the magazine is full. Shall I show -you how it works?”</p> - -<p>“No, put the beastly thing away.”</p> - -<p>Diana obeyed, locked the drawer and put the key in her handbag.</p> - -<p>“Telma—I must remember that,” she mused.</p> - -<p>“I’d like you to forget it. I really never intended telling you or -anybody else the combination of my safe. It isn’t right that you should -know. You might inadvertently——”</p> - -<p>“I never do things inadvertently,” said Diana. “I do them maliciously, -or sinfully, but I do them deliberately. You can drop me at the -Embassy,” she said, as Eleanor helped her on with her cloak. “You’re so -near to the Ritz that you could fall into the front porch. Unless you’re -going to pick up somebody?” She looked round at him suspiciously.</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact, Gordon did intend picking up somebody, and his -immediate objective was Buckingham Gate, where, in consequence of his -change of plans, he arrived five minutes late. The restraint which Mrs. -van Oynne showed was heroic. He was apologetic; under the influence<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span> of -the bright restaurant and soft music, explanatory.</p> - -<p>“Diana again!” she said petulantly. “I almost think I dislike that -Jane.”</p> - -<p>“Diana, you mean?”</p> - -<p>“I meant Diana,” said Heloise hurriedly. “Gordon, you don’t know how I’m -looking forward to Saturday.”</p> - -<p>“It occurred to me,” said he, “that Saturday is rather a busy day, and -the trains will be full with people going away for the week-end.”</p> - -<p>She drew a long sigh.</p> - -<p>“We need not be travelling together,” she said with resignation. “My, -how scared you are!”</p> - -<p>“I’m not scared,” protested the injured Gordon. “I’m scared for -you—yes. That is the only thought I have. By the way, I told Robert.”</p> - -<p>“That’s your brother? What did he say?”</p> - -<p>She was curious.</p> - -<p>“Well”—Gordon hesitated—“Robert is a man of affairs, with little or no -imagination, and at first he thought ...” he shrugged his -shoulders—“well, you know what a certain type of mind would think, my -dear Heloise.”</p> - -<p>“Couldn’t we go on Friday?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“That’s impossible. I’ve got a man coming to see me on Friday.”</p> - -<p>He explained at length Mr. Tilmet’s business, and the method he would -follow to discharge the debt.</p> - -<p>Throughout the meal she observed that he was a little <i>distrait</i>, and -explained his long silences by his dormant uneasiness about the -forthcoming trip. In this surmise she was wrong. Gordon was thinking of -Diana, and wondering how it was that he had never observed those factors -of colouring and feature which had been so emphatic that night. In a way -he had begun to tolerate Diana, and to find a grim amusement in his own -discomfiture. She had proved a wonderful manager, had reduced expenses -perceptibly; though her record of excellence as a housekeeper had been -somewhat spoiled by an incident which came to Gordon in a roundabout -way. She had entered the kitchen just after the butcher had left. One -glance at the joint had been sufficient, and, as the butcher boy was -gathering up his reins to drive off, a small shoulder of mutton came -hurtling through the kitchen window. The elevation was excellent, the -direction slightly<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span> faulty; the shoulder of mutton caught the butcher on -the side of the head and almost knocked him off his perch. Then Diana -appeared in the doorway.</p> - -<p>“Cold storage,” she said laconically. “Bring home-killed meat, or never -darken our doors again!”</p> - -<p>The driver went off in a condition bordering upon hysteria. Thereafter, -the meat supply showed a marked improvement.</p> - -<p>At first Gordon had been serious when this matter was reported to him -respectfully and inoffensively by Trenter, who drew a small commission -on all tradesmen’s bills and took a charitable view of their -shortcomings. But now, sitting vis-à-vis his pretty companion, the -matter occurred to him in a fresh light.</p> - -<p>“Why are you smiling?” asked Heloise.</p> - -<p>“Was I?” he said apologetically. “I hadn’t the slightest idea. I was -thinking of something—er—something that happened in my office.”</p> - -<p>Not in his wildest mood had he ever dreamt that he would lie about -Diana.</p> - -<p>Mr. Collings, that eminent lawyer, had many friends in London, including -important personages at Australia House. Diana went into the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span> Embassy -expecting a tête-à-tête meal, and found herself greeted by stately and -elderly men and their stately and middle-aged wives. She was introduced -to an Under Secretary for the Colonies, and manœuvred herself to his -side when she learnt that he was one of the coming men in the -Government. Diana had suddenly decided that Gordon ought to have a -title.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> she got home that night she found Gordon had arrived before her. He -was thoughtful, unusually subdued; most remarkable of all, was to be -seen, for he invariably went to bed as soon as he reached home after a -dinner or theatre, and never by any chance was he in a conversational -mood at such hours.</p> - -<p>“Good time?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Very. I met the cream of the Colonial Office. It was thin but genuine -cream. Were you very late, and was she very annoyed?”</p> - -<p>Such a query, ordinarily, would be ignored.</p> - -<p>“Five minutes or so; the lady was naturally——”</p> - -<p>“Peeved?” she suggested. “And it was a lady, after all? Gordon, let me -see her?”</p> - -<p>He smiled.</p> - -<p>“She wouldn’t interest you, Diana. She is rather an intellectual.”</p> - -<p>Diana was not offended.</p> - -<p>“The only thing I approve about the Bolsheviks is that they killed off -the <i>intelligentsia</i> first,” she said without heat. “I suppose they got -tired of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span> seeing their plays and hearing about their spiritual insides. -What do you talk about—Bimetallism or Free Will?”</p> - -<p>He humoured her, being in a somewhat sympathetic mood. The strain of -holding friendship to lecture-hall level was beginning to tell.</p> - -<p>“Books and people,” he said lightly. “And you?”</p> - -<p>She threw her cloak over the back of a chair, pulled a stool to the fire -and sat down, warming her knees. Gordon, the soul of delicacy, strolled -out of the line of vision.</p> - -<p>“We talked about tradesmen and the superiority of Australian beef and -the difficulty of finding servants and Mrs. Carter-Corrillo’s fearful -indiscretion—she went to France with the third secretary of the -Montenegrin Embassy. She was only there three days, but, as Lady -Pennefort said, there are twenty-four hours in every day. Some women are -fools—and most men. This young man’s career is ruined, even though he -swears that their mutual interest in the gravel deposits of Abbeville -was the explanation of the visit. They are both keen on geology.”</p> - -<p>“And why shouldn’t that be the true explanation?” demanded Gordon -stoutly, his heart warm<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span>ing to the geological third secretary. “Why -should not men and women have mutual scientific interests?”</p> - -<p>“We’ll hear what the judge says,” she answered complacently. “Mr. -Carter-Corrillo is suing for a divorce.”</p> - -<p>“On what grounds—incompatibility of interest in strata?” sneered -Gordon.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be silly. Conventions are the by-laws of society. It is presumed -that, if you break a by-law, you are capable of breaking the law.”</p> - -<p>He stared, amazed at her cool inconsistency.</p> - -<p>“Here are you, living, unchaperoned, in the house of a bachelor——”</p> - -<p>“Cousins are different,” she said promptly. “Nobody suggests that the -third secretary is Mrs. Carter-Corrillo’s cousin. That would make a -difference. Besides, everybody knows how much you dislike me.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t dislike you,” after a moment’s thought; “but if you think I do, -why do you stay?”</p> - -<p>“I have a mission,” she said, with a finality of tone that brought the -subject out of discussion.</p> - -<p>Gordon broke the news of his impending departure after breakfast the -next morning.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span></p> - -<p>“I am thinking of running up to Scotland to have a shot at the birds,” -he said. He felt rather like a liar.</p> - -<p>“What have they been doing?” she asked, her grey-blue eyes wide.</p> - -<p>“Nothing. One shoots them at this season of the year. You have game laws -in Australia, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. I have shot wallaby and dingo and rabbits and things, but -never birds. To Scotland? That’s an awful long way. Gordon, I shall be -worried about you. There was a railway accident in the newspapers this -morning. You’ll send me a wire?”</p> - -<p>“From every station,” he said sarcastically, and was ashamed of himself -when she thanked him so warmly.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad—that is my eccentricity, a horrid fear that people I like are -in railway accidents. Of course, I could always wire to the -stationmaster to enquire about you, or to your hotel.”</p> - -<p>Slowly it dawned upon Gordon Selsbury that in an unguarded and fatally -foolish moment he had enormously complicated a situation already far -from simple. To escape, to offer excuses, even to laugh off her anxiety, -simulated or real,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span> was impossible. A solution came to him and was -instantly rejected. It came again because it was, in all the -circumstances, the only solution. But it was one that could only be -applied at the cost of his self-respect. Almost he cursed Heloise or -whoever was the fool who had suggested this mad excursion.</p> - -<p>Trenter was laying out his master’s clothes for dinner when Gordon -strolled into his dressing-room.</p> - -<p>“Um ... don’t go, Trenter. When did you have your holiday?”</p> - -<p>“First week in April, sir.”</p> - -<p>Gordon considered.</p> - -<p>“Do you know Scotland?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir; I’ve been with several house parties for the September -shooting.”</p> - -<p>“Good. The fact is, Trenter, I’m going away on a—a peculiar mission. It -is a secret even from my most intimate friends. There are reasons, very -excellent reasons with which I need not trouble you, and which you -certainly would not understand, why I should go secretly to one place -whilst I am supposed to be at another.”</p> - -<p>Trenter aimed wildly, but scored on the target at the first shot.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span></p> - -<p>“A lady, sir?” he ventured respectfully, meaning no harm—offering, in -fact, a tribute to the known chivalry of the Selsburys.</p> - -<p>“No!”</p> - -<p>There was reason enough for the large and angry blush that darkened -Gordon’s face.</p> - -<p>“No, of course not. Business. Nothing at all to do with a lady.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry, sir,” said Trenter, and was.</p> - -<p>“We won’t discuss my mission. What I want to say is this. Miss Ford, who -is rather of a nervous disposition, has asked me to send her wires at -intervals of the journey....”</p> - -<p>“And you want me to go to Scotland and send them,” said Trenter -brilliantly. Gordon had never respected his servant’s intelligence so -much as he did at that moment.</p> - -<p>“Exactly. It will save me a lot of worry. And,” he added mysteriously, -“if the wires fall into other hands, they will help deceive a Certain -Person!”</p> - -<p>Trenter nodded wisely. He couldn’t guess who the Certain Person was: -even Gordon did not know. But lying grew easier with practice—he had -grown reckless.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Not a word of this in the servants’ hall,” warned Gordon.</p> - -<p>The servitor smiled. Gordon had not seen him smile before. It was a -strange sight.</p> - -<p>“No, sir; I shall tell them that my aunt in Bristol is ill (which she -is) and that you’ve given me leave. How long do you want me to be away, -sir?”</p> - -<p>“A week,” said Gordon.</p> - -<p>Mr. Trenter went down to the servants’ hall importantly.</p> - -<p>“The old man’s given me a week’s holiday to see my aunt. I’m leaving -to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>Eleanor was constitutionally suspicious.</p> - -<p>“Bit sudden, isn’t it? He’s going away to-morrow too. You men are -devils! Us women never know what you’re up to.”</p> - -<p>Trenter smiled cryptically. It added to his self-confidence to be -suspected of devilish deeds.</p> - -<p>“Noos verrong,” he said, and added the information: “French.”</p> - -<p>“Is Miss Diana going?” asked the cook.</p> - -<p>“With me or him?” demanded Trenter insolently. “She’s not going with -<i>him</i>! And do I blame him? No! She’s no lady, that’s my firm opinion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“Then keep it to yourself!” said Eleanor, shrill of voice. “I don’t want -you to say anything about Miss Diana!”</p> - -<p>“You women stick together.” Trenter could not but admire the trait.</p> - -<p>“And you men stick at nothing.” Eleanor’s sincerity gave sanction to -inconsequence. “She’s too good for him. I suppose you’re both off on -some gallivanting business? So far as I am concerned you’re welcome! -You’ve been an experience, and every girl ought to have experience—up -to a point. Your wife can have you.”</p> - -<p>“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you forty million times that I’m not -married!” hissed Trenter. “I had to be married because he wanted a -married man for a butler, and if I’d said I was single I should have -lost the job. That temper of yours, my girl, is going to be your ruin.”</p> - -<p>“Well, don’t talk disp—whatever the word is—about Miss Diana,” she -sulked.</p> - -<p>“I don’t trouble my head about her, because I don’t think there’s -anybody in the world like you, Eleanor,” he urged.</p> - -<p>She admitted later that there was much to be said for his point of -view.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the early days, when Trenter had known him, Mr. Superbus was a court -bailiff, a man who seized the property of unsuccessful litigants, who -served writs, attached furniture, and committed all those barbarous acts -peculiar to his office. But progression, the inexorable law of getting -on, the natural craving for success, brought Mr. Superbus from the -atmosphere of a dull county court to a small office in the Insurance -Trust Building, and the distinction of having his name painted upon the -glass panel of the door. He was officially styled “First Enquiry Clerk.” -The “detective” which was printed on the corner of his visiting card was -wholly unofficial, and his request to his superiors that a nickel badge -should be designed that he might wear on his waistcoat and display at -fitting moments when it was necessary to disclose his identity, was -refused as being “impracticable and undesirable.”</p> - -<p>The cinematograph is at once educative and inspirational. Mr. Superbus -spent most of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span> spare evenings in watching the pictures. Those he -liked best dealt with the careers of young, beautiful but penurious -girls, who were pursued by rich and remorseless villains, and were -rescued in the nick of time from a fate which is popularly supposed to -be worse than death, by a handsome young hero, with the assistance of a -stern-faced officer of the law, who smoked cigars, wore a derby hat, and -from time to time turned back his coat to display the badge of his -calling. A film which had no detective, and dealt merely with the love -of a millionaire’s beautiful young wife for his secretary, was -unpalatable to him, even though it featured his favourite artists and -showed, in the course of its telling, tremendous railway accidents, -landslides, riots and the enervating effects of cocaine.</p> - -<p>Before the open window of his parlour, Mr. Superbus sat in a state of -profound meditation. Though the day was chilly, he was in his -shirt-sleeves, for he was one of those hot-blooded men in whom the -variations of climate peculiar to his native land produced no effect. It -was an open secret that he was one of those hardy souls who swam in the -Serpentine every Christmas Day, preferably breaking the ice to get in, -and his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span> portrait appeared with monotonous regularity every twenty-sixth -of December in all the better-class illustrated newspapers.</p> - -<p>His good lady came bustling in with a shiver. She restricted her own -bathing operations to the decent privacy of a four by seven bathroom.</p> - -<p>“You’ll catch your death of cold there, Julius,” she said. “Fancy -sitting there from morning till night doing nothing!”</p> - -<p>“I’m not doing nothing,” said Julius quietly. “I’m thinking.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s what I call doing nothing,” said Mrs. Superbus, bustling -round and laying the cloth.</p> - -<p>She had an extraordinary appreciation of her husband’s qualities, -admired him secretly, but felt that the smooth harmonies of matrimony -might well be disturbed if she committed the error of showing her -feelings.</p> - -<p>“It’s beyond me how you puzzle these things out,” she said.</p> - -<p>“It’s brains,” explained Julius.</p> - -<p>“You get such ideas,” she said in despair. “I wonder you don’t go on the -stage.”</p> - -<p>It was her conviction that the stage was the ul<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span>timate goal of all -genius; its greatest reward; its most natural line of development.</p> - -<p>“This Double Dan is certainly a bit of a puzzle, though I’ve worked out -bigger problems in my time, mother.”</p> - -<p>She nodded in agreement.</p> - -<p>“The way you mended the cistern last week beats me,” she said. “After -that I’ll believe anything. Who is this Double Dan?”</p> - -<p>“He’s a swindler,” said Mr. Superbus, “a parasite of society, a human -vampire—but I’ll get him!”</p> - -<p>“I’m surprised the police don’t go after him,” she said.</p> - -<p>He was naturally irritated, and his laughter lacked sincerity.</p> - -<p>“The police! No, mother, the man who’s going to get Double Dan has got -to be clever, he’s got to be cunning, he’s got to be artful.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know anybody artfuller than you, Julius,” said his wife -graciously, and Mr. Superbus accepted the compliment as his right.</p> - -<p>He might speak disparagingly of the police, as he did; as all private -detectives, authors of mystery stories and such-like are in the habit of -do<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span>ing. But his knowledge that Double Dan was in London, the hint that -had been whispered up from the underworld that Mr. Gordon Selsbury was -to be the new victim; these and a hundred other little pointers of -incalculable value came to him fourth-hand from Scotland Yard. After his -midday dinner he put on his coat and strolled to Cheynel Gardens. Gordon -was out, and he was received by Diana.</p> - -<p>“Why, of course, you’re Mr.——”</p> - -<p>“Superbus,” said Julius.</p> - -<p>“The Roman!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus confessed to that distinction. He might have added “ultimus -Romanorum,” only he was unacquainted with the phrase. Instead he -remarked, a little pathetically:</p> - -<p>“There ain’t many of us left.”</p> - -<p>“I bet there ain’t,” said Diana. “Sit down and have some tea. You want -to see Mr. Selsbury, but he won’t be back for an hour.”</p> - -<p>“I did and I didn’t,” said Julius the obscure. “What I want to do is to -keep a certain eye on a certain fellow.”</p> - -<p>He did not particularise the eye, but Diana guessed that it might be -that which was nearest to her: it looked the less glassy of the two. In<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span> -the matter of the certain fellow she sought information.</p> - -<p>“Double Dan—I remember. Who is he, Mr. Superbus?”</p> - -<p>“Well, ma’am——”</p> - -<p>“Miss.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t look it,” he said gallantly, if vaguely. “This Double Dan is -a desperado, and is believed to emanate from the West.”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean West London?”</p> - -<p>“I mean America,” said Julius, “where most of the desperadoes come from. -And go to,” he added, with a recollection of certain past defaulters, -whose disappearance had been hampering to him as a bailiff of the court.</p> - -<p>She listened attentively while Mr. Superbus described the misdoings of -the impersonator.</p> - -<p>“There’s nothing this fellow can’t do, miss,” said Superbus -impressively. “He can make himself fat, he can make himself thin; he can -impersonate a tall man or a short man, an old man or a young man. By all -accounts he was an actor onthealls.”</p> - -<p>“Onthealls?” She wrinkled her brow, thinking for the moment that Mr. -Superbus had dug up one of those natty colloquialisms that en<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span>livened -the Senate in those days when Cicero could always be depended upon to -pass a few bright, snappy remarks about the Tribune Clodius.</p> - -<p>“An actor onthealls,” repeated Mr. Superbus, astounded that he was -unintelligible.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I see!” a great light dawning upon her mind. “On the halls? You -mean the vaudeville stage?”</p> - -<p>“So they say,” said Mr. Superbus. “Anyway, he’s been too clever for the -regular police. It’s now up to them who have made a study of crime, so -to speak, to bring him to justice.”</p> - -<p>He looked cautiously round the apartment and lowered his voice.</p> - -<p>“By all accounts, Mr. Selsbury’s the next.”</p> - -<p>Diana sat bolt upright in her chair.</p> - -<p>“You means he’s to be the next person robbed?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus nodded gravely.</p> - -<p>“From information received,” he said.</p> - -<p>“But does he know?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve dropped an ’int, miss,” said Julius. “But on the whole it’s better -that he didn’t know. A man gets jiggered, so to speak, if he knows a -crook is after him, and that hampers the officers<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span> of the law.” He shook -his head. “Many a good case have I lost that way.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean exactly by impersonation?” asked Diana, troubled. “Do -you mean to say that, when Mr. Selsbury is out, somebody who looks very -much like him is liable to walk into this house and help himself to -anything that he can find?”</p> - -<p>“Cheques mostly, or money,” affirmed Julius. “He works big, this fellow. -Nothing small about him, you understand. You could leave your silver -around, and he wouldn’t touch so much as an egg-spoon. He’s one of the -big gang—I’ve had my eye on him for years.”</p> - -<p>“This is very alarming,” said Diana after a long silence.</p> - -<p>“It is alarming,” agreed Julius, “but at the same time, if you’ve got -the right kind of man around to protect you, a fellow who’s a bit sharp, -it’s not alarming. But he’s got to be clever, and he’s got to have -experience of what I might term the criminal classes, I should say.”</p> - -<p>“You mean yourself?” Diana smiled faintly, not in the mood to be amused.</p> - -<p>“I mean me,” said Julius. “If I was you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span> miss, I’d drop a hint to Mr. -Selsbury. Maybe he takes more notice of what his daughter says.”</p> - -<p>At parting he took her hand in his own large, purple paw, called her -“Miss Selsbury” and asked to be remembered to her father. When Gordon -came home, she told him of the visit.</p> - -<p>“Superbus, eh?” said Gordon good-naturedly. “He called for a tip. But -why, in the name of heaven, he should start in to alarm you, I don’t -know. I must speak to the Association about it.”</p> - -<p>“He didn’t alarm me at all,” said Diana, “except when he asked to be -remembered to my father, and said that you were more likely to be -influenced by your young and gentle daughter——”</p> - -<p>“Does he think I’m your father?” demanded Gordon indignantly. “That -fellow’s got a nerve! As for Double Dan, I shouldn’t think very much -about him if I were you, Diana. He certainly caught old Mendlesohn, but -then, old Mendlesohn is a philandering old fool. He allowed himself to -be trapped by the woman who works with the scoundrel and acts as his -decoy duck.”</p> - -<p>The mail boat was in, Gordon noted, glancing<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span> at his newspaper the next -morning. He had arranged to remain at home that day, and his accountant -called at the house with a carefully engrossed receipt form and the -office cheque-book. Gordon filled a blank for eleven thousand and a few -odd pounds.</p> - -<p>“I want fifty thousand dollars in gold bills; you’ll buy them at the -Bank of England. Bring them back here in a taxicab, Miller. You have -told the office that wires are to be telephoned to me? Good. I expect a -message from Mr. Tilmet.”</p> - -<p>The message did not come until long after the bills had been deposited -in The Study safe.</p> - -<p>It was from Paris, to the effect that Mr. Tilmet had landed at Cherbourg -and would be in London on the Sunday; he added that he would leave for -Holland that same night. Gordon, in his genteel way, consigned the -American to the devil.</p> - -<p>He saw Heloise that afternoon. She was a being exalted at the prospect -of the trip, and his last desperate appeal to her that it should be -cancelled was unmade. They were to meet at a quarter to eleven on the -platform at Victoria, and were to travel as strangers until they reached -Ostend. The passage looked likely to be a good<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span> one; the weather bureau -reported a smooth sea and light easterly winds.</p> - -<p>Trenter had packed his big carry-all, and had included one of the new -suits—that grey check with a little red in it—which had arrived -belatedly from the tailor. The case had been secretly transported to a -hotel in the neighbourhood of Victoria, where Gordon had to change. -Nothing remained to be done but to prepare the telegrams which Trenter -was to send. He could do this with a light heart, for it had occurred to -him that if, taking advantage of his absence, the criminal impersonator -should call (he regarded this as the least likely of any happening) the -wires would confound and expose him. He felt almost as if he were doing -a worthy deed.</p> - -<p>The first he marked in the corner “Euston,” and inscribed “Just leaving, -Gordon.” He wrote a number of “Good journey, all wells” for York, -Edinburgh and Inverness.</p> - -<p>Surprisingly, Diana came to him that day for some money.</p> - -<p>“I arranged the transfer of my money to the London branch of the Bank of -Australasia, but there has been some sort of hitch. I called to-day and -the transfer has not arrived. Save me<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">{103}</a></span> from penury, Gordon—I’m a ruined -woman.”</p> - -<p>She displayed dramatically the empty inside of a notecase. Gordon felt a -queer satisfaction in signing a cheque for her, recovered a little of -the kind-fatherly feeling appropriate to their relationship.</p> - -<p>“And to think that, if you had really turned me out, I should have -starved!” taking the slip from his hand. “Gordon, behind a rugged and -unprepossessing exterior, you hide a heart of gold.”</p> - -<p>“I sometimes wish you were a little more serious,” he said in good -humour.</p> - -<p>“I’m always wishing that you weren’t,” she said.</p> - -<p>Gordon was temporarily deprived of the full use of The Study in the -afternoon. There could be no more remarkable proof of Diana’s dynamic -qualities than the arrival of post office linesmen to move the telephone -from the hall to Gordon’s room—and that within forty-eight hours of her -notifying the Postmaster General of her desires. Gordon demurred at -first. The telephone was an invasion of his privacy. Diana was flippant -and he was in no spirit for a fight.</p> - -<p>Bobbie was at dinner that night, and, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">{104}</a></span> they were alone, asked her a -question that he had asked himself many times.</p> - -<p>“Why do you stick this kind of existence, Diana? You’ve heaps of money -and could be having a really good time instead of rushing round after -Gordon.”</p> - -<p>She looked up under her curling lashes.</p> - -<p>“Does Gordon want me here? Has he ever wanted me? No, sir! When I came I -left my baggage in the hall: I intended taking his advice about hotels -and things. I never had the slightest intention of stopping—till I saw -him and heard him, and read the panic he was in at the idea of my -remaining in the house, and heard him become paternal and -my-dear-little-girly. So I stayed. The day Gordon wants me to stay—I -go!”</p> - -<p>The atmosphere of the house was electric: Bobbie felt it, Diana was -conscious of an uneasiness that was not to be accounted for by the -errors of banking officials. Even in the servants’ hall hysteria made a -mild manifestation. Eleanor had a premonition which she called by -another name.</p> - -<p>“I’m sure something’s going to happen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">{105}</a></span>” When she was nervous her voice -grew high-pitched.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be ridiculous.” Trenter’s voice lacked confidence.</p> - -<p>“I wish you wasn’t—weren’t going away,” she sobbed. “I’ve got the -creeps. That window man will do something. The moment I saw him I said -‘that man’s a villain,’ didn’t I, cook?”</p> - -<p>“You did. You said ‘I’m sure there’s something wrong about that man,’<span class="lftspc">”</span> -agreed cook.</p> - -<p>As for Gordon Selsbury, he went to bed at ten. At one o’clock he was -pacing his room. At three he went down to The Study and started the -percolator working. Whilst the coffee was in process of making, he -opened the safe and took out the fifty thousand dollars, counted them -and put them back. The safe looked very fragile, he thought. Once this -wretched trip was over he would attend to the matter. The house was not -difficult to burgle. The big, stained-glass window—an enterprising -craftsman with a penknife could get in....</p> - -<p>In a corner of the room flush with the window was a small door, hidden -behind a curtain. This led to the courtyard and was never used. As to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">{106}</a></span> -its design, and what purpose it was intended to serve, only the builder -and original owner of the house might testify. His name was Gugglewaite, -he had been three times divorced, and was at the moment in heaven—or -his well-edited epitaph lied.</p> - -<p>Gordon went upstairs for his pass-key, opened the door and stepped out -into the “garden.” It was very dark and still, and the wet wind smelt -sweet and fresh. Across the yard was a door that gave to a small side -passage. The wall was high, but no obstacle to an active burglar. He -shivered and went in again to his coffee and a returning serenity -induced by the fire he had kindled and the comfort of his surroundings.</p> - -<p>He would have gladly given a thousand—ten thousand—to cancel his fool -adventure; to remain here with ... well, with Diana. He told himself -this with a certain defiance as though one half of a dual personality -were challenging the other. Diana was really a dear. He wished he had -been a little more loyal to her and had talked less about Dempsi ... a -boy and girl affair and perfectly understandable. On Dempsi, his -identity, his appearance, he mused till the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">{107}</a></span> light began to show in a -ghostly fashion behind the painted window.</p> - -<p>There was no thrill in the secrecy, the plotting, the wile within wile. -Gordon smelt the meanness of it, and sometimes he quavered. It made -matters a thousand times worse that Diana was so sweet about everything.</p> - -<p>It had occurred to him that he would have to depend upon her to deal -with Mr. Tilmet when he called. Nobody else could possibly cope with -that elusive gentleman.</p> - -<p>“Surely,” she said without hesitation. “Have you the receipt ready and -the final contract? It isn’t worth paper unless it has been drawn up by -an American notary. Auntie bought an oil well in Texas and she had to -find an American attorney before the contract could be made.”</p> - -<p>“And she was swindled, of course?” said Gordon. “All these oil -properties are swindles.”</p> - -<p>“She made seventy thousand dollars out of the deal,” said Diana. “Auntie -had an irresistible attraction for bargain money. The bills are in the -safe?”</p> - -<p>“With the contract and the receipt. Really, Diana, you’re almost a -business woman!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">{108}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“Your patronage is offensive, but I feel sure that you mean well,” said -Diana without heat. “Let me see that money.”</p> - -<p>He opened the safe and she counted it, bill by bill, before she snapped -the door close and spun the handle.</p> - -<p>“Good,” she said. “I will have a spring clean whilst you are away. I -have sent for a man to clean the windows of The Study. They are in a -shocking state. And, Gordon, with Trenter and you away, I shall need -extra help. I will have a man and his wife here. There is an attic room -where they can sleep: is that in order?”</p> - -<p>Diana was brisk, business-like, imposingly capable. Gordon realised that -she was unconsciously ramming home her indispensability.</p> - -<p>Eleanor, coming in to put the room in order, found him in his -dressing-gown, asleep before the black ashes of the fire, and her squeal -of fear woke him.</p> - -<p>“Oh, sir, you gave me such a fright!”</p> - -<p>He rose stiffly, blinking at her.</p> - -<p>“Did I ...? I’m sorry, Eleanor. Will you send Trenter to me in my room?”</p> - -<p>A bad start to a very bad day’s business. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">{109}</a></span> ached from head to foot, -until his bath gave him some bodily ease.</p> - -<p>“Eleanor says you were asleep before the study fire. When did you come -down, Gordon?” Diana asked at breakfast.</p> - -<p>“About three o’clock, I think. I remembered work that had to be done.”</p> - -<p>She was concerned.</p> - -<p>“Why don’t you go by the night train—you could sleep?” she suggested, -and he forced a smile.</p> - -<p>“I shall sleep all right,” he said with spurious gaiety.</p> - -<p>The talk went off in another direction, and then Bobbie came in for -final instructions. Gordon was unaccountably irritated by this act of -devotion to duty, and his “Good-morning” was like the crack of a whip.</p> - -<p>“After you have gone,” said Diana, “I shall ask Trenter to show me such -of your clothes as need go to the cleaners.”</p> - -<p>“Trenter is going before me,” he said hastily. “He’s catching a train to -Bristol. His aunt is seriously ill.”</p> - -<p>“What on earth’s the matter with you?” gasped Bobbie.</p> - -<p>Gordon turned, ready to be offensive, but it<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">{110}</a></span> was not he at whom Bobbie -was staring. Diana’s face was ghastly; her eyes were wide with a terror -she could not conceal; her skin the colour of chalk. Gordon jumped up -and ran to her.</p> - -<p>“Whatever’s the matter?” he asked, in genuine alarm.</p> - -<p>“Nothing,” she said with a gasp. “Perhaps I’m feeling the parting. I -always go like this when my cousins go away!”</p> - -<p>“Have you had bad news?”</p> - -<p>Her letters were open on the table. She shook her head.</p> - -<p>“No; the butcher’s arithmetic is a little embrangled. Ever heard that -word before, Gordon? I guess you haven’t! I found it in <i>Tom Brown’s -School Days</i>. Bobbie, don’t stare, it’s very rude....”</p> - -<p>Under her covering hand was the letter she had been reading.</p> - -<p>Mr. Dempsi was very much alive: was in London at that moment. The -opening lines of his letter were significant.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“My bride! I have come to claim you!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>Dempsi always wrote like that.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">{111}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ten</span> minutes later, Bobbie walked into his brother’s room without -knocking, and interrupted what seemed to be a very confidential -interview. Trenter pocketed a sheaf of telegrams in haste, but not so -quickly that Bobbie did not see them. He made no comment until Mr. -Trenter, in his best suit and looking unusually spruce, had made a -hurried departure.</p> - -<p>“Trenter’s going down to see his sick aunt,” explained his master.</p> - -<p>“He looks like that,” said Bobbie. “The chrysanthemum in his buttonhole -will cheer her immensely. Is the faithful Trenter in the swindle too?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know what you mean by ‘swindle,’<span class="lftspc">”</span> said Gordon loudly. “I wish I -hadn’t told you anything about it!”</p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t, only you wanted somebody to stand by you in case anything -went wrong. That is, anything but you.”</p> - -<p>Gordon glared at him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">{112}</a></span></p> - -<p>“I shall not go wrong, believe me!”</p> - -<p>“I don’t,” said Bobbie. And then, hastily: “At least, I do, but nobody -else would.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t understand these—it’s a hateful word, but there is no -better—affinities,” said Gordon, “these understandings and yearnings -for something which—which—well, somebody else can’t give you. Some -magic that draws a man’s confidence and kills all sense of time and -obligation.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie nodded wisely.</p> - -<p>“I know—a woman.”</p> - -<p>Gordon stood erect.</p> - -<p>“Bobbie,” he said awfully, “I tell you this is not an affair—at any -rate, it is different from other kinds of affairs.”</p> - -<p>“So are all other kinds of affairs,” said Bobbie. “That’s why the judges -have been working overtime. I dare say I <i>am</i> cynical: I can afford to -be, I’m a bachelor. The lady has a husband?”</p> - -<p>“Heloise is married,” said Gordon gravely.</p> - -<p>“Heloise? I must remember that name. And Trenter, I presume, is going -into the country to post the necessary telegrams to give verisimilitude -to an otherwise unconvincing narrative. I hate<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">{113}</a></span> quoting Gilbert at you, -but the situation is a little Gilbertian. What is she like?”</p> - -<p>Gordon was not inclined to particularise.</p> - -<p>“Of course, if you’re going to make trouble——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be an ass,” said Bobbie. “I’m not going to give you away because, -for some extraordinary reason, I believe you.”</p> - -<p>A knock at the door: it was Eleanor.</p> - -<p>“Will you see Mr. Superbus?” she said.</p> - -<p>“No,” snapped Gordon. “Get me a cab.”</p> - -<p>“Who’s Mr. Superbus?”</p> - -<p>“He’s the detective I told you about; the man that is watching for -Double Dan.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie whistled: it was an exasperating trick of his.</p> - -<p>“Double Dan? By Jove! I didn’t think of him. Gordon, you’re taking a -risk. Is there any money in the house?”</p> - -<p>“I told you.”</p> - -<p>“You keep telling me you’ve told me things. I think your mind is -wandering.”</p> - -<p>“There’s fifty thousand dollars in the safe. Diana’s looking after it. -The combination word is ‘Telma’—I told her, and I might as well tell<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114">{114}</a></span> -you. It is for Tilmet, who’s calling on Sunday, but Diana will look -after that.”</p> - -<p>“Double Dan,” repeated Bobbie softly. “And you’re the very bird he could -impersonate to the life! Sometimes I do it myself unconsciously. A -little pomp, a little strut, a little preciousness of speech——”</p> - -<p>Gordon waved him out of the room. He had reached the limit of his -patience.</p> - -<p>Diana was out when he came down, and he was not sorry. Also, the -telephone receiver was on the table; he replaced it in the hook.</p> - -<p>“Where is Miss Ford?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Miss Ford had to go out. She asked me to say good-bye to you, sir,” -said Eleanor. “Will you see Mr. Superbus?”</p> - -<p>“No, I will not see Mr. Superbus. Tell him—well, tell him anything you -like. I’ve got a train to catch.”</p> - -<p>He was gone in such a hurry that Bobbie had not time to get the -information he had come to procure—Gordon had not told him the address -to which he was to wire. There was time to go after him, but his -immediate objective was unknown. It was obviously too early for the -train, and Bobbie had such a sense of delicacy that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115">{115}</a></span> would not take -the risk of a chance meeting with the fascinating Mrs. van Oynne. He sat -down, waiting for Diana’s return, and puzzling over the change which a -letter had wrought in her. That it was a letter, he knew. Sharper of eye -than his brother, he had noticed the closely written page beneath her -hand. Diana had her secrets too.</p> - -<p>As for Gordon, he was a fool, an utter, hopeless, dithering maniac! -Bobbie got up and walked across to the safe, hesitated a moment, then -manipulated the dial and pulled the door open.</p> - -<p>Except for a receipt form and a four page contract, the safe was empty. -Of money there was none!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116">{116}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was half an hour before Diana came back, and she still showed the -effects of the shock she had received at breakfast time.</p> - -<p>“Hullo, Bobbie!” She glanced at his face. “What is the matter?”</p> - -<p>“Diana”—he spoke slowly—“you’re in some kind of trouble.”</p> - -<p>“Some kind!” She flung her hat recklessly on the table. “Every kind, my -dear child!”</p> - -<p>He did not smile.</p> - -<p>“Gordon told me that he had left fifty thousand dollars in the safe to -pay an American who’s calling on Sunday. He gave me the combination.”</p> - -<p>She stood before him, her hands behind her.</p> - -<p>“Well?”</p> - -<p>“The money is not there.”</p> - -<p>A little pause.</p> - -<p>“And do you know why?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. I’ve been worried to death. He didn’t take it?”</p> - -<p>She shook her head.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">{117}</a></span></p> - -<p>“No, I took it,” she said. “Bobbie, Dempsi is alive!”</p> - -<p>“Alive? Dempsi? Impossible!”</p> - -<p>She nodded many times.</p> - -<p>“He is alive! I’ve had a letter from him this morning—thirteen -pages—you could have used any one of them as a mustard leaf. I’m -scared!”</p> - -<p>“But I thought he was lost in the bush?” said Bobbie.</p> - -<p>She smiled painfully and dropped into the chair in which Gordon had -spent the night.</p> - -<p>“He was found in the bush,” she said. “He had fever or something and was -discovered by the Jackies. They took him to their village. Bobbie, -Dempsi is half Irish and half Italian. Which half is most mad? Because -that’s the half that wrote.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie considered for a long time.</p> - -<p>“He knows you’re not married?”</p> - -<p>She shook her head.</p> - -<p>“What?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Diana calmly. “We talked on the telephone just after you left -the room, and his first words were: ‘Are you single? We’ll be married -to-morrow. If you’re married, you’ll be a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">{118}</a></span> widow to-night!’ I knew at -once that it was Dempsi.”</p> - -<p>“What did you say?” he asked, awe-stricken.</p> - -<p>“I told him I was married,” she said, with such coolness that he was -inarticulate. “I couldn’t very well explain why I was here if I wasn’t -married, could I? Then he got so violent that I told him I was a widow. -Bobbie, isn’t lying easy?”</p> - -<p>Bobbie could say nothing.</p> - -<p>“Then he sprang another one on me, and I told him that I was living with -my Uncle Isaac—I used to have an Uncle Isaac,” she said in -self-defence. “He was a sort of an adopted uncle. He died of delirium -tremens. All our family have done something out of the common. I -couldn’t say I was living alone in this big house, and anyhow, Gordon is -away. It’s wonderful luck, his going.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie paced the floor in a state of supreme agitation.</p> - -<p>“What about the money?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“I owed it to him. Before he ran away into the bush we had a terrible -scene. He wanted me to elope with him, and when I wouldn’t, he said he -would commit suicide. He was like a madman; he cried over me, he kissed -my feet, and then went<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119">{119}</a></span> off to lose himself in the bush. He didn’t even -do that properly.”</p> - -<p>“And the money?”</p> - -<p>“He gave it to me, or the cat or somebody. Anyway, I had it. Dempsi -hadn’t a relation in the world, and I just banked the money with my -own.” She bit her lip. “I intended putting up such a beautiful monument -to him,” she added thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>Bobbie drew a sigh of relief.</p> - -<p>“Well, my dear girl, as you’ve obviously sent him the money, the worst -is over. You can replace it: the banks do not close till twelve.”</p> - -<p>“How am I to replace it?” she asked scornfully. “I’ve no money in my own -bank, except a few pounds that I opened the account with when I came to -London. I took the fifty thousand dollars and put eight thousand pounds -to my own account. Here’s the rest.” She drew out a wad of bills and -handed them to him.</p> - -<p>Bobbie looked at her aghast.</p> - -<p>“But this Tilmet, this American—you’ve got to find the money for him?”</p> - -<p>“I thought you’d get it for me,” she said, her big eyes fixed pleadingly -on him.</p> - -<p>He looked at his watch.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120">{120}</a></span></p> - -<p>“It’ll want some doing. You can’t raise eight thousand in real money in -two hours. Is this money of Gordon’s in your bank?”</p> - -<p>She nodded.</p> - -<p>“I’m sending Dempsi a cheque by special messenger. He’s living in a -little hotel in the Edgware Road.”</p> - -<p>“He mentioned the money then?”</p> - -<p>“He made a casual reference,” she said, “which my conscience probably -magnified into a demand. Phew!” She fanned herself with her hand.</p> - -<p>Bobbie locked away the remaining ten thousand dollars.</p> - -<p>“I’ll see what I can do. May I telephone?”</p> - -<p>She nodded.</p> - -<p>“You may do anything you please except ask me to marry Dempsi,” she said -wearily.</p> - -<p>His first call was to his bank, and the conversation was not -encouraging. Bobbie had just paid from his account heavy bills, and he -was slightly overdrawn. To the suggestion that the overdraft should be -increased, the manager turned an unsympathetic ear. And then, at the end -of the third call, when Bobbie was in a condition of frenzy, Eleanor -came in with a telegram, and the girl opened it quickly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121">{121}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Saved!” she whooped.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” said Bobbie, snatching the form from her hand.</p> - -<p>It was dated Paris and was from the American’s secretary.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“Feared Mr. Tilmet has contracted measles. Will not be able to -arrive in London for another fortnight.”</p></div> - -<p>“Thank God for measles!” wailed Diana.</p> - -<p>Bobbie wiped his streaming forehead.</p> - -<p>“I’ve a good mind to take the remainder of this money away,” he said, “I -don’t like it being in the house.”</p> - -<p>For answer, she opened the drawer of the desk and took out the -black-muzzled Browning.</p> - -<p>“Burglars are my specialty,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Would you mind putting that lethal weapon away?” said Bobbie. “What a -bloodthirsty little devil you are!”</p> - -<p>“I am,” said Diana. “There’s murder in my bones at this particular -moment. Yes, Eleanor?”</p> - -<p>“Are you going to see Mr. Superbus?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know he was here. Ask him to come in, will you?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus came, in his stately, senatorial<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122">{122}</a></span> fashion, and was -introduced to Bobbie. It was obvious he sought a very private interview -indeed, but Diana explained in what relationship Bobbie stood.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry to have missed Mr. Selsbury,” said Julius. “Information -having come to me last night through my secret agent about a certain -party.”</p> - -<p>“You mean Double Dan?”</p> - -<p>Diana reacted instantly. For the moment she hadn’t a care in the world.</p> - -<p>“It’s no laughing matter, miss.” Mr. Superbus shook his head, and -invited, with a wave of the hand, bent forward to see his feet and sat -down slowly. “No, it isn’t any laughing matter, ma’am—miss. If he -walked in at that door”—he pointed—“made up for the part, you’d think -it was your father.”</p> - -<p>Diana raised a protesting hand.</p> - -<p>“May I explain, in passing, that Mr. Selsbury is not my father?”</p> - -<p>Julius graciously indicated that she had his permission.</p> - -<p>“Dan is wonderful! I was telling my good lady only this morning that, if -she sees a fellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123">{123}</a></span> looking like me trying to get into the house when I’m -supposed to be away, she must make him take his shirt off—I’ve got a -lucky mole on my shoulder, miss—ma’am—miss. Why moles are supposed to -be lucky I’ve never discovered.”</p> - -<p>Diana turned to Bobbie.</p> - -<p>“This is rather alarming.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” said Bobbie. “Lots of people have moles.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be absurd. I mean Double Dan.”</p> - -<p>“But why should he come here?” asked Bobbie, well aware that the -contents of the safe, such as they were, justified a visit. But it was -Mr. Superbus who answered.</p> - -<p>“That’s what they all say, but there’s always a reason, miss. My good -lady said to me ‘Why should he come here?’ but I pointed out -that—what’s in that safe? Any valuables there?” He pointed to the wall.</p> - -<p>“Nothing very much,” said Diana hastily. “Tell us some more about this -person, Mr. Superbus.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus smiled to himself.</p> - -<p>“I’m the greatest living authority on him,” he said modestly, “that’s -what I am! He’s a very<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124">{124}</a></span> plausible fellow, and works with a girl. Whether -or not—well, let’s say it’s his wife. She wangles the information out -of the fellow that Dan is going to rob. Do you see?”</p> - -<p>Diana nodded.</p> - -<p>“I see. She’s a sort of decoy who gets to know the victim.”</p> - -<p>“Know him! Well, I should say she did, miss—it would be much easier to -tell you everything if you was ma’am.”</p> - -<p>“Well, imagine I am,” smiled Diana. “She gets to know him very well?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus nodded.</p> - -<p>“I should say so! She starts a hand-holding friendship, if I might -describe it.”</p> - -<p>“But surely not always?” interrupted Bobbie. “She didn’t catch old -Mendlesohn that way? He must be sixty-five!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus was amused.</p> - -<p>“Sixty-five! Why, of course she did! The sixty-fivers are the worst. -They’re easy. Mind you, there’s nothing more than a high-class -friendship in it, if I may use the word. The people she likes to get -hold of are the thinkers—she’s got a classy line of language. You know -the sort of stuff that highbrows talk.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125">{125}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“A soul, in fact?” smiled Diana. “Does she represent herself as being -married?”</p> - -<p>He nodded.</p> - -<p>“Yes, there’s always a husband in the background. Sometimes he lives -abroad, sometimes he’s in a lunatic asylum, but he’s mostly out of the -way.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie staggered and caught hold of a chair for support. Happily, Diana -did not notice his wan excitement.</p> - -<p>“And then what happens?” she asked, a little nervous as to whether Mr. -Superbus was still confounding “miss” with “ma’am.”</p> - -<p>“Well, she lures him away,” said Mr. Superbus. “There’s no other word -for it. She <i>lures</i> him away. And whilst they’re away, up comes Double -Dan with all the dear departed’s little tricks—his voice, his funny -little ways, which the girl has been studying and passing on to Dan. You -understand, miss? I’ve collected all this information myself. It’s a -coop with me. ‘Coop’ is French for ‘cop.’<span class="lftspc">”</span></p> - -<p>“And the girl?” asked Diana.</p> - -<p>“Oh, she gets away too—pretends her husband’s come back unexpectedly -from foreign parts; but she does it so that the fellow can’t re<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126">{126}</a></span>turn -home. Usually he’s told people that he’s going away for a fortnight or -so, and naturally, he doesn’t want to come back.”</p> - -<p>“How perfectly disgusting!” said Diana with a wry face.</p> - -<p>“That’s what I say,” said Mr. Superbus earnestly. “Having allowed a -gentleman to go so far——”</p> - -<p>“At any rate, we need not have any fear about Mr. Selsbury,” said Diana -with a quiet smile.</p> - -<p>Evidently Mr. Superbus <i>had</i> fears about Mr. Selsbury. He looked around -in his mysterious way, and then:</p> - -<p>“He’s gone out of town, hasn’t he?”</p> - -<p>Diana nodded.</p> - -<p>“For any length of time?”</p> - -<p>“For a week,” said Diana.</p> - -<p>Superbus rubbed his chin.</p> - -<p>“It’s rather a delicate matter, but I am a family man, ma’am—miss. Has -he gone away on business—no chance of a——?”</p> - -<p>“Of a what?”</p> - -<p>“Of a lure?”</p> - -<p>Diana laughed softly.</p> - -<p>“Absolutely no chance.” Diana was thinking<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127">{127}</a></span> quickly. “What sort of a -woman would this be—his confederate, I mean—pretty?”</p> - -<p>“Handsome is as handsome does,” replied Julius.</p> - -<p>“Are you going, Bobbie?”</p> - -<p>Bobbie was following the detective from the room.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’ve got to see a man,” he said a little incoherently.</p> - -<p>There was still time to catch Gordon, and he was resolved to take the -risk.</p> - -<p>With Bobbie out of the way, the girl rang the bell, and, when Eleanor -came, she found her mistress at the writing-table, blotting an envelope.</p> - -<p>“Put your hat on, Eleanor, and deliver this letter to the Marble Arch -Hotel. Take a taxi.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, madam,” said Eleanor in surprise.</p> - -<p>“Ask to see Mr. Dempsi.”</p> - -<p>Diana made an attempt to be unconcerned, and failed dismally.</p> - -<p>“If he kisses the letter, or anything like that—you mustn’t be -surprised. He is very impulsive: he might even kiss you,” she added.</p> - -<p>Eleanor stiffened.</p> - -<p>“Indeed, miss?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128">{128}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“He won’t mean anything by it.” Diana was tremulously diplomatic. “He -always kisses people when he sees them. I—I shouldn’t be surprised if -he kissed me when he calls—we’re old friends, and people do that sort -of thing in—in Australia.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed, madam?” said Eleanor, her interest in the British Empire -awakened.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid Mr. Selsbury wouldn’t understand,” Diana went on lightly. -“Men are rather narrow. If you told him——”</p> - -<p>“I should never dream of telling Mr. Selsbury, madam,” said Eleanor -indignantly.</p> - -<p>The girl came in dressed before she went.</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon, Miss Ford, but it has just occurred to me,” she said -hesitantly. “If this foreign gentleman should kiss me, might I be bold -enough to ask you not to mention it to Trenter?”</p> - -<p>“You may rely on me, Eleanor,” said Diana firmly. “We women must stand -together.”</p> - -<p>She watched the girl through the window till she was out of sight, then -flopped back in her chair. The papers stood in a rack at her hand, -unopened, unread. She reached out and found one, but there was no drama -that could quite over-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129">{129}</a></span>shadow that which was being played out in her -heart.</p> - -<p>She heard a tap and looked round. It was not at the door; it seemed to -be at the stained-glass window. There was a little window square, level -with the ledge, which could be opened and closed as a casement, and -against this she saw the shadow of a head, and, with her heart thumping -wildly, walked across the room.</p> - -<p>“Who is there?” she asked.</p> - -<p>Then came a voice that chilled her to the marrow.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you know me, beloved?”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Dempsi!” she gasped. “You mustn’t come here, really you mustn’t! -My—my Uncle Isaac isn’t at home, and I can’t receive you.”</p> - -<p>With an effort of will she jerked open the window and looked down upon a -bearded face and eyes that shone. A wide-brimmed sombrero at the back of -his head; hanging from his shoulders, a long black cape. He might have -stepped from an opera.</p> - -<p>“I—I can’t see you now, really I can’t! Won’t you call next Wednesday -week?”</p> - -<p>So that was Dempsi! She remembered dimly<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130">{130}</a></span> some resemblance to the -bare-faced boy she had known. Perhaps that wild glitter of eye, that -furious gesticulation.</p> - -<p>“Diana,” he breathed, “I’ve come back from the grave to claim you!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, but not now,” she said, in an agony of apprehension. “Go back -to your grave till three o’clock. I’ll see you then.”</p> - -<p>The shadow disappeared. How had he got there? Curiosity. Opening the -window an eighth of an inch, she saw him scaling the wall with an -agility which would have been admirable in any other conditions. Slowly -she walked up the stairs to her room, closed and locked the door behind -her, and sat down heavily on her bed.</p> - -<p>Once upon a time her aunt had carefully loaded a shot-gun designed for -this same Dempsi. Tears came into her eyes.</p> - -<p>“Dear auntie!” she half-sobbed. “You understood men so well!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131">{131}</a></span>”</p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Gordon</span> hesitated a little time before the mirror in his bedroom at the -hotel, the razor poised in his hand, his cheeks crisp with lather. There -is no more solemn act undertaken by man than destruction of such facial -landmarks (if the term be allowed) as are represented by cultivated -hair. There is something so irrevocable, so tremendous in -self-destruction of whiskers, that it is amazing so few great poets have -utilised the theme.</p> - -<p>Setting his jaw, Gordon attacked with a firm hand, the bright blade -flashed in the pale sunlight ... the deed was done. Rubbing his face -clean of lather, he gazed in surprise at the result. His appearance was -wholly changed. It would not be extravagant to describe it as improved. -Those two flickers of the razor had made him ten years younger.</p> - -<p>“Boyish!” exclaimed Gordon, neither in despair nor pleasure, yet with -something of both emotions.</p> - -<p>Until then he had not seen the suit, that fashionable grey check with a -little red in it. His<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132">{132}</a></span> first impression of the pattern had mellowed with -time....</p> - -<p>“My God!” breathed Gordon.</p> - -<p>He was not a profane man. Once Diana had wrung from him such an -expression, but Diana and her startling point of view was the mildest of -provocation compared with the horror that lay unfolded on the bed.</p> - -<p>As a length of cloth it had called for attention. It was humanly -impossible to pass it by without some such comment as “That is rather -unusual.” But in the piece it had dignity; there was a suggestion of -weavers’ genius and ingenuity.</p> - -<p>As a suit, embellished with a saucy waist, and with buttons that were in -themselves a quiet smile.... Gordon felt a trickle of something at his -temples and requisitioned his handkerchief. He could not possibly wear -this. The alternative, for a short sea voyage, was a black morning coat -and top hat—equally impossible.</p> - -<p>Time was flying. He put on the trousers. They did not look so bad ... he -dressed.</p> - -<p>Standing before the long glass in the wardrobe, he looked and wondered. -One thing was certain: not his dearest friend would recognise him—and -his overcoat would hide much. The reflection<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133">{133}</a></span> of this new Gordon -Selsbury fascinated him.</p> - -<p>“How do you do?” he asked politely.</p> - -<p>The figure in the mirror bowed gravely. He was a perfect stranger to -Gordon, a young bookmaker, Gordon thought, and was growing interested -when he realised with a shock that it was himself. Packing hastily, he -rang the bell three times for the valet. If you rang twice the porter -came, once, the chambermaid. So he rang three times. The chambermaid -appeared. Happily the hotel is a house of call. Guests come overnight -and leave in the morning. Nobody recognises anybody except under the -urgent promptings of lawyers’ clerks, supported by the visitors’ book. -Ten per cent of the staff was permanently giving evidence at the law -courts.</p> - -<p>“The valet,” said Gordon and, when that individual appeared, gave -instructions regarding the grip containing his discarded suit and -hat-box. It occurred to him at that moment that one does not journey to -Scotland in a top hat, and he was rather glad that Diana had been out -when he left.</p> - -<p>“I want these things to be kept in the hotel cloak-room,” said Gordon. -“I will be back next Friday night and collect them.”</p> - -<p>Now the valet knew him; had seen him, not at<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134">{134}</a></span> the hotel, but at a very -select club in Pall Mall where the man had been a waiter before the -craze for improvement had driven him to the brushing of odd people’s -odder clothing.</p> - -<p>“Excuse me, sir, you’re Mr. Selsbury, aren’t you?”</p> - -<p>Gordon went red.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I am Mr. Selsbury,” he said with a touch of hauteur. His signature -in the visitors’ book was unintelligible. The reception clerk thought it -was Silsburg.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think I should leave your bag in the hotel, sir,” said the -valet gravely.</p> - -<p>Something of authority upon the ritual of adventure, he spoke with the -best of intentions.</p> - -<p>“Next Friday particularly we’ve got a big dinner here—to one of the -Colonial Premiers. The hotel will be full of people—you don’t want to -meet anybody you know?”</p> - -<p>The assumption that he was privy to the clandestine character of -Gordon’s movements made the visitor incapable of protest.</p> - -<p>“Tell me the train you’re coming by; I’ll meet you at the station with -the grip—I’ll put it straight away into the railway parcels office,” -said the valet gently, almost tenderly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135">{135}</a></span></p> - -<p>Gordon could think of no improvement on this method; at the same time, -the valet must be under no misapprehension.</p> - -<p>“Thank you—er——”</p> - -<p>“Balding—I used to be a waiter at the Junior University Club, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, of course. I think your idea is an excellent one. The fact is, I’m -leaving London on a ... mission, and I have to be very careful ... -thousands of pounds are involved.”</p> - -<p>“I see, sir.”</p> - -<p>Balding was so serious as to be almost plaintive. He had met gentlemen -at the hotel in similar circumstances, only <i>they</i> had said that they -were in the secret service.</p> - -<p>“Thank you, sir ... very kind of you, I’m sure.”</p> - -<p>Balding slipped the note into his waistcoat pocket indifferently.</p> - -<p>“I’ll take this now, sir.” He lifted the grip from the bed. “Will you be -coming by the first or the second continental on Friday? Ostend -four-thirty, Paris eight-thirty.”</p> - -<p>“Four-thirty,” said Gordon.</p> - -<p>The die was cast. He gathered the second and smaller grip, paid his bill -at the desk and went out.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136">{136}</a></span> It was chiming the quarter before eleven when -he entered Victoria Station; the train left at twelve. There was no need -to rush for seats. He had his Pullman reservation in his pocket. Happily -the day was raw, the sun and rain alternately, blustering wind all the -time. He could turn up the collar of his greatcoat. On the indicator -board he read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“Wind N. N. W. Sea moderate to rough. Visibility good.”</p></div> - -<p>He was glad, at any rate, that the visibility was good.</p> - -<p>And then he looked around for Heloise. They had arranged to meet for the -briefest space of time.</p> - -<p>At ten minutes to eleven, he grew restive, was on the point of picking -up his valise, when he saw her hurrying toward him, glancing furtively -behind. And there was something in her face that made his breath come a -little more quickly.</p> - -<p>“Follow me into the waiting-room!”</p> - -<p>She had passed him with this muttered message. Like a man in a dream, -Gordon picked up his bag and followed. The big waiting-hall was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137">{137}</a></span> nearly -empty, and to its emptiest corner she led him.</p> - -<p>“Gordon, a dreadful thing has happened.” Her agitation communicated -itself to his unquiet bosom. “My husband has returned unexpectedly from -Kongo. He is following me ... he is mad—mad! Oh, Gordon, what have I -done!”</p> - -<p>He did not swoon; rather, he experienced all the sensations without -losing consciousness.</p> - -<p>“He swears I have transferred my affections, and says he will never rest -until he stretches the man dead at my feet. He said he would do dreadful -things ... he is a great admirer of Peter the Great.”</p> - -<p>“Is he?” said Gordon. It seemed a futile question to ask, but he could -think of nothing else. And he was not a little bit interested in Mr. van -Oynne’s historical leanings.</p> - -<p>“Gordon, you must go on to Ostend and wait for me,” she said rapidly. “I -will come as soon as possible ... oh, my dear, you don’t <i>know</i> how I’m -feeling!”</p> - -<p>Gordon was so immensely absorbed in his own feelings that he made no -effort of imagination.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138">{138}</a></span></p> -<p>“Didn’t you tell him that our ... our friendship was just ... -spiritual?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Her smile was faint and sad and shadowy. A ghost who had overheard a -good one in a smoking-room might have laughed as hilariously.</p> - -<p>“My dear ... who <i>would</i> believe that? Now hurry, I must go.”</p> - -<p>Her little hand trembled for a second on his arm and she was gone.</p> - -<p>He picked up his bag, it was curiously heavy, and followed her into the -station. She was nowhere in sight. A porter stretched a suggestive hand -toward his baggage.</p> - -<p>“Continental train, sir ... have you got a seat?”</p> - -<p>Gordon looked up at the clock. It wanted five minutes of eleven.</p> - -<p>“Eleven-five the boat train, sir,” said the porter.</p> - -<p>“Eleven-five? I thought it was eleven,” said Gordon numbly.</p> - -<p>“There’s plenty of time, sir.”</p> - -<p>Still Gordon stood, motionless. For some extraordinary reason his mind -had refused to function; he was wholly incapable of decision or -movement. The engine of his faculties had gone cold and refused to -start.</p> - -<p>“Get me a cab, please.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139">{139}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>The mechanism of the request saved him.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> - -<p>The bag was taken from his unresisting hand. He followed the porter to -the busy courtyard, pathetic in his helplessness.</p> - -<p>“Where shall I tell him to go, sir?”</p> - -<p>The porter stood invitingly, the cab door in his hand, a friendly smile -on his face. He had not yet been tipped.</p> - -<p>“Scotland,” said Gordon hollowly.</p> - -<p>“Scotland—you mean Scotland Yard?”</p> - -<p>This touched the spring: all the wheels in Mr. Selsbury’s mind began -revolving at once.</p> - -<p>“No, no—to the Grovely Hotel. Thank you very much.”</p> - -<p>The gratuity that Gordon crushed into the outstretched hand was -munificent, princely. One glance at its value and the porter staggered -against the door, closed it with a strangled “Grovely!” and the cab -rattled out of the station precincts.</p> - -<p>At that moment Bobbie Selsbury was engaged in a frenzied seat-to-seat -search for his erring brother.</p> - -<p>Gordon was cooler now, though not out of danger. He could think: he -could also for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140">{140}</a></span> moment inhibit thought. A jealous and revengeful -husband, probably armed, certainly homicidal, and a student of Peter the -Great and his methods, could not be wholly inhibited. Gordon wondered -whether in his library he had a really frank and unexpurgated history of -Peter.</p> - -<p>The hotel linkman opened the door of the cab, professionally pleased at -his return.</p> - -<p>“Keep the cab,” warned Gordon. He was by no means certain that he was -capable, unaided, of calling another.</p> - -<p>At the desk of the reception clerk he recovered his key and the right to -its employment, and carrying his bag to his room, rang the bell three -times for the valet. The porter answered him, but not by mischance, as -was proved.</p> - -<p>“Balding is off duty, sir,” he explained. “He goes off at eleven on -Saturdays.”</p> - -<p>“When will he be back?”</p> - -<p>“On Monday, sir. We have a whole day every second week. Is there -anything I can get you, sir?”</p> - -<p>Gordon shook his head. He only wanted his bag and his lost -respectability. Removing his overcoat, he looked at himself in the -glass.</p> - -<p>“That isn’t me,” he said brokenly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141">{141}</a></span></p> - -<p>His appearance had changed, even in the short space of time elapsing -between this and his last inspection.</p> - -<p>The type was hideously familiar. He had seen it once in a vulgar film -where everybody chased everybody else. He remembered that the heroine -wore white stockings and black boots.</p> - -<p>There were two alternatives. He might remain a prisoner in that room -until Balding returned from his holiday; he could go home, get into the -house unobserved and change. He had many black-tailed coats, batteries -of silk hats, forests of quiet, grey-striped trousers. This idea was -more attractive. Diana would lunch at one o’clock; the dining-room was -across the hall from The Study. It would be a simple matter to slip -upstairs, change and come down to meet the astonished eyes of Diana. How -surprised she would be, and how amusing and unbending he would be!</p> - -<p>“Didn’t expect to see me, eh? Well, the fact is, I had an important -cablegram—just as I was getting into the train. My sidewhiskers? Yes, I -took them off as a little surprise for you. Rather an improvement, don’t -you think?”</p> - -<p>His heart warmed to the plan, and there was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142">{142}</a></span> glow in the thought that -the desire of the morning, that he should sleep in his own bed that -night, would be gratified. And there was the companionship of Diana, -hitherto an unconsidered attraction. Diana grew on him: he admitted this -to himself. If Heloise did go after him to Ostend, that would be -unfortunate. He hated the idea of giving her a journey for nothing. But -she would not leave for a day or two, and he would find means of -communicating with her....</p> - -<p>He shuddered; for at the back of the vision of Heloise, stood the large, -brutal husband who was mad, mad.</p> - -<p>There were two hours to wait before he could put his plan into -operation. He telephoned from his bedroom to a bookseller’s in the -Buckingham Palace Road.</p> - -<p>“Have you a good life of Peter the Great?” he asked.</p> - -<p>They had two. He ordered them to be sent to him immediately. He was -rather amused with himself.</p> - -<p>He was less amused when he heard of the fate of one who had aspired to -the affections of Catherine, and whose head had been placed into a -large<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143">{143}</a></span> glass jar and displayed in Catherine’s boudoir to remind her that -husbands have their feelings. There was another gentleman who loved -Catherine, and him Peter had hanged on a high gibbet, under which he -promenaded arm in arm with Catherine. The arm and arm was a domestic -touch not lost upon Gordon. On the whole, he decided thoughtfully, a -profound admiration for Peter’s character would have no softening -tendency upon any man, especially a man who was mad, mad.</p> - -<p>He put away his book, drew on his overcoat, and, passing down in the -elevator, found his cab still waiting, the meter bloated with charges. -He had forgotten all about the cab.</p> - -<p>At the corner of the street he paid the man and walked rapidly into -Cheynel Gardens, his nose showing above the collar of his overcoat. -Happily, the street was empty. He almost ran when he reached the -familiar façade of his house, turned into the side passage, and, with a -trembling hand, fitted the key into the lock of the back gate. Suppose -it were bolted? The horrid doubt was no sooner in his mind than it was -dispelled. The key turned easily, and he found himself looking up at the -familiar window of his study.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144">{144}</a></span></p> - -<p>Tiptoeing to the little door, he listened. There was no sound, and, with -minute care to avoid making the slightest noise, he pushed his pass-key -slowly in the lock, and pushed the door open a fraction of an inch. Not -a sound. He opened it a little further, slipped behind the curtain which -hid the door, and closed it behind him.</p> - -<p>The room was empty, the two doors into the hall ajar. He could hear the -solemn ticking of the grandfather clock on the staircase.</p> - -<p>His first step, he had decided, must be to get into touch with Bobbie. -Listening at the hall door, he heard the click of steel on china—Diana -was at lunch, as he had expected. He closed first the baize, and then -the inner door softly, shot a bolt and tiptoed across the room. Bless -Diana for bringing the telephone into The Study!</p> - -<p>Bobbie’s office responded. A late leaving clerk had heard the ring of -the ’phone and came back to answer.</p> - -<p>“No, sir, Mr. Selsbury is not in to-day.”</p> - -<p>Gordon rang off without disclosing his identity, and tried Bobbie’s -lodgings in Half Moon Street, with no better success. He was wasting -valuable time, he realised, and Bobbie could wait. He put on the -receiver and stood up, stretching himself,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145">{145}</a></span> with an easy, happy, -home-coming smile. Yes, Diana would be surprised.</p> - -<p>He crossed the room to the hall. His hand was on the handle when, -glancing round, he saw the curtain which hid the door into the courtyard -move and billow. He had left the door open, he thought, and was on the -point of returning to close it, when a hand came round the edge of the -curtain, and he stood, frozen to the spot. Again the draperies moved, -and a woman came into view. It was Heloise!</p> - -<p>Gordon did not believe the evidence of his eyes. She was some vision -conjured up by an overheated brain, a symptom of disordered nerves.</p> - -<p>“You are not real,” he said dully. “Avaunt!”</p> - -<p>“Gordon!”</p> - -<p>The outstretched hands, the plea in her eyes. Gordon Selsbury stood with -his back to the door.</p> - -<p>“How did you come here?” he croaked.</p> - -<p>“Through the garden gate—the way you came.... I followed you. Gordon, -he is furious! You must protect me.”</p> - -<p>He could only stare at her owlishly.</p> - -<p>“You mean—Peter?” he nodded.</p> - -<p>“Peter? No, my husband, Claude. He knows everything!” dramatically.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146">{146}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Is he ... an editor?”</p> - -<p>He was talking foolishly: nobody knew that better than Gordon; but the -works were beginning to slow down again. And then she came to him and -dropped both her hands on his arm.</p> - -<p>“You want me to stay here, don’t you? You won’t turn me out ...? He -followed me, but I slipped him.”</p> - -<p>“Stay here?” Gordon hardly recognised his own voice. “Are you mad?”</p> - -<p>She looked at him suspiciously.</p> - -<p>“Are you married?”</p> - -<p>“No.” And then a flashing inspiration. “Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Yes-no,” she said impatiently. “What are you—divorced?”</p> - -<p>“No. You see how absurd it is, Heloise.”</p> - -<p>“You are married to Diana.” She pointed an accusing finger.</p> - -<p>Gordon could only nod idiotically.</p> - -<p>“You really must go,” he squeaked. “This may mean ruin for me!”</p> - -<p>Her lips curled as she drew back, hands on hips.</p> - -<p>“Do I get any of that ruin?” she demanded.</p> - -<p>“You must go back to your husband.” His<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147">{147}</a></span> brain was alert now. “Tell him -you have made a mistake——”</p> - -<p>“He pretty well guesses that,” she interrupted bitterly, and slowly took -off her wrap.</p> - -<p>Instantly Gordon seized it.</p> - -<p>“Put it on, put it on!” he wailed, but she twisted herself loose.</p> - -<p>“I will not go, I will not! Oh, Gordon, you can’t turn me out after all -we’ve been to one another! After all the confidences!”</p> - -<p>He was pushing her toward the courtyard door, a man beside himself, -frenzied with fear, terrified beyond hope of succour.</p> - -<p>“Out of the side door!” he hissed. “I will meet you in half an hour, at -a teashop somewhere. Heloise, don’t you realise my reputation -depends——”</p> - -<p>It needed but this to pull the mask from her face.</p> - -<p>“Teashop! I am to be thrown to the lions!”</p> - -<p>He looked hard at her. Could a woman pun in such a solemn moment?</p> - -<p>“As to your reputation,” she drawled coolly, “that sort of thing doesn’t -make me get out of bed and walk round, I assure you! I will not leave -this house—alone!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148">{148}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Gordon covered his mouth with his hand. He was in no danger of talking. -He wanted to cover her mouth with his hand, but she was too far away. It -was an involuntary gesture which silenced her. She heard the knock at -the door, and then Diana’s voice:</p> - -<p>“Who is there?”</p> - -<p>He pointed to the side door, grimacing. Heloise was adamant.</p> - -<p>“Who’s there?” said Diana.</p> - -<p>“Side door,” whispered Gordon frantically.</p> - -<p>Heloise shook her head, hesitated, and then stole silently behind the -curtain into the recess. It was her final compromise.</p> - -<p>“Who is there? Who locked the door?”</p> - -<p>Diana’s voice was urgent. Gordon straightened his coat, smoothed his -hair, unlocked the door and threw it wide open.</p> - -<p>“It’s all right, dear.” He was grinning inanely like a cat. “Ha ha—it’s -only Gordon—Gord, as you would say! I’m just coming out ... here I am -back again ... like a bad penny.”</p> - -<p>In Diana’s eyes was a glitter which he did not like, and as she advanced -he backed instantly before her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149">{149}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Only old Gordon—ha ha!” he said feebly.</p> - -<p>“Very funny. I’ll laugh to-morrow,” said Diana.</p> - -<p>The vulgarity of the ancient music-hall gag did not even arouse him.</p> - -<p>“So it’s only old Gordon, is it?” She nodded wisely. “Sit over -there—old Gordon!” She pointed to a chair.</p> - -<p>“Now look here, my dear girl.” It was a very colourless imitation of his -best manner. “The whole thing can be explained. I lost my train....”</p> - -<p>She was opening a drawer in the writing table, slowly, deliberately, her -eyes never leaving his face. When her hand came to view, it held a -Browning.</p> - -<p><i>Click!</i> The jacket snapped back. It was loaded.</p> - -<p>“What are you doing, Diana?” he squeaked again.</p> - -<p>Her eyes were now murderous.</p> - -<p>“Will you be good enough not to call me Diana?” she asked icily. “So -you’ve come, have you? And even I, who expect most things, didn’t expect -you. But, my friend, you’ve come at an opportune hour!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150">{150}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“Look here, old girl—” he began.</p> - -<p>“You can omit the familiarities.” She waved him down to his chair. -“Never imagine that you will deceive me—I know you!”</p> - -<p>“You know me?” he said hoarsely. He had come to a point where he wasn’t -quite certain whether he knew himself.</p> - -<p>“I know you,” she repeated slowly. “You’re Double Dan!”</p> - -<p>He leapt to his feet, the pistol covering him. Waving wild hands, he -strove to speak.</p> - -<p>“You’re Double Dan,” she said, and the fire in her eyes was now ominous. -“I’ve heard about you. You’re the impersonator. You and your woman -confederate lure innocent men from their homes, that you can rob them.” -She looked round. “Where is the woman? Doesn’t she appear on the scene, -or does her work finish when the luring is completed?”</p> - -<p>“Diana, I swear to you you’re mistaken. I’m Gordon, your cousin.”</p> - -<p>She smiled slowly.</p> - -<p>“You haven’t been as careful as usual, Dan. And the fact that I call you -by your Christian name need not inspire you with a desire to get better -acquainted. You haven’t studied him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151">{151}</a></span> My cousin, Gordon Selsbury, had -little side-whiskers—didn’t you know that?”</p> - -<p>“I—I had an accident. In fact,” said Gordon, “I took them off ... to -please you.”</p> - -<p>Her sneering smile chilled him through and through.</p> - -<p>“My cousin Gordon is not the kind of man who would have an accident with -his whiskers,” she said with cold deliberation. “Where is your lady -friend?”</p> - -<p>He tried to look away from the curtained recess, stared solemnly ahead -of him, but involuntarily his eyes strayed to the garden door. And then -Diana saw the slightest of movements.</p> - -<p>“Come out, please,” she said.</p> - -<p>There was no response.</p> - -<p>“Come out, or I’ll shoot!”</p> - -<p>The curtain grew agitated. Heloise, white of face, flew across the room, -flinging herself upon Gordon’s heaving bosom.</p> - -<p>“Don’t let her shoot me! Don’t let her shoot me!” she shrieked.</p> - -<p>Diana looked and nodded.</p> - -<p>“So this man is your husband!” she said.</p> - -<p>Walking back to the door, she closed it.</p> - -<p>“Now listen to me, Double Dan and Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152">{152}</a></span> Double Dan, or whatever your -names may be. You are here to commit a felony, and I could, if I wished, -send for the police and hand you over to justice. I’m not sure that I -shan’t take that course. For the moment, however, your presence is -providential.”</p> - -<p>And then, in scorn:</p> - -<p>“Gordon Selsbury! Do you imagine Gordon Selsbury would bring a woman to -this house furtively? Do you imagine he would come dressed like a -third-class comedian? Never dare mention Mr. Selsbury’s name again in my -presence!”</p> - -<p>Gordon opened and closed his mouth, but no words came.</p> - -<p>“You will stay here until I give you permission to go.”</p> - -<p>She went to the garden gate, closed and slammed it, then came back to -Gordon.</p> - -<p>“You had a key? Give it to me,” she said curtly.</p> - -<p>Gordon obeyed, lamb-like, watching her as she double-locked the door. -And then he made his last desperate attempt.</p> - -<p>“Diana, I can explain everything,” he said hoarsely. “I am—the fact -is—I’ll tell you the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_153" id="page_153">{153}</a></span> truth. I was going abroad, and the fact is, I am -Gordon, although I may not seem so. I admit I’m wearing the most -disgustingly loud suit, and that I have in other ways changed my -appearance, but that also can be explained.”</p> - -<p>There was a knock on the panel of the door.</p> - -<p>“Wait,” said Diana, and walked backward to the entrance. “Who is it?”</p> - -<p>“Eleanor, madam. A telegram.”</p> - -<p>“Push it under the door.”</p> - -<p>An orange envelope came into sight, and, picking it up, she tore away -the cover and read the form.</p> - -<p>“Go on,” she signalled to Gordon. “You say you are Gordon Selsbury? Tell -me some more. But before you do so, listen to this:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>“<span class="lftspc">‘</span>Just leaving Euston. Take care of yourself. Gordon.’</p></div> - -<p>“Now there need be no deception on either side. Open your heart to me, -little man. Who are you—Gordon Selsbury or Double Dan?”</p> - -<p>“Anything!” The wail of the damned.</p> - -<p>“Gordon Selsbury or Double Dan?” she demanded inexorably.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_154" id="page_154">{154}</a></span></p> - -<p>He threw out his hands.</p> - -<p>“Double Dan,” snarled Gordon.</p> - -<p>Of the two alternative rôles, this seemed the more creditable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_155" id="page_155">{155}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">He</span> had never seen anybody as scared as Heloise was; that was the one -clear impression which Gordon carried away from the interview. She, the -self-possessed woman of the world, a soul, one superior to the lesser -grades of humanity, seemed to have cowered and shrunk under the -domination of Diana’s baleful eye. Gordon sighed, tied his baize apron a -little tighter round his waist, and wondered where Trenter kept his -stock of plate powder. On the whole, it was good that Trenter was away, -and that he was spared the sight of his master’s humiliation. If indeed -it was a humiliation to be thrust into an ill-lit pantry with -instructions to clean the silver, and be ready at a moment’s notice to -make himself presentable. Gordon tried again and attacked a cream-jug -half-heartedly. His hands were not designed for housework. Yet he would -as soon have thought of cutting his throat with a fruit knife -(half-a-dozen of which awaited his atten<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_156" id="page_156">{156}</a></span>tion) as disobey Diana’s -imperious gesture which had sent him off to the pantry to clean silver.</p> - -<p>He was not asleep; he had made absolutely certain of this; he was wide -awake, in his shirt sleeves, a baize apron covering his detestable suit, -and he was polishing a cream, or it may have been a milk jug. That fact -being firmly and inevitably established, he had some basis for reasoning -and wonder. Chief cause for wonder was why Diana kept him in the house -at all, believing him to be Double Dan; why she did not send immediately -for the police and have him taken off to the nearest lock-up. He was -devoutly thankful that she hadn’t! The second cause for wonder was what -had happened to the remainder of the domestic staff? Eleanor he had not -seen. There was no evidence that the cook was on the premises. Here -again this fact provided him with a certain amount of satisfaction—but -where were they? He was to learn.</p> - -<p>Diana made her appearance at the door of the pantry and he stared at her -open-mouthed. Around her dainty waist was a broad leather belt, and, -hanging by two straps, was a pistol holster, from the opening of which -protruded the black handle of a Browning.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_157" id="page_157">{157}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Do you know anything about potatoes?” she asked curtly.</p> - -<p>Gordon was ashamed to discover that he knew nothing about potatoes, -except that they were vegetables.</p> - -<p>“Have you ever <i>peeled</i> potatoes?”</p> - -<p>“I can’t remember,” he said. “When I was at school I think we used to -peel potatoes——”</p> - -<p>“I’m not interested in what happened at Borstal—that is the name of the -juvenile convict establishment, isn’t it? Put that milk-jug down and -come into the kitchen.”</p> - -<p>He followed her meekly. There was no sign of the cook; Eleanor was -invisible, and he learnt the reason.</p> - -<p>“I’ve sent my servants away for a week-end holiday,” she said. “I want -no scandal attaching to my cousin’s name. I will not even have it known -that this attempt has been made to swindle him. You understand that you -will not try to leave the house?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he nodded.</p> - -<p>“Naturally, it is impossible that I should keep up day and night -watching you,” she said, “so I have asked a friend to come in and help -me.”</p> - -<p>A gleam of hope showed in Gordon’s eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_158" id="page_158">{158}</a></span></p> - -<p>“A detective,” she said impressively, “a Mr. Superbus—a name, I think -with which you are well acquainted.”</p> - -<p>“That ... that ...?” spluttered Gordon indignantly.</p> - -<p>“That,” she said.</p> - -<p>A bell shrilled in the kitchen. She looked up at the indicator. The -little disc which represented the front door was oscillating violently.</p> - -<p>“There are the potatoes,” she pointed to them.</p> - -<p>Gordon saluted. He was once in the army and it seemed natural to salute.</p> - -<p>No sooner had she gone than he decided upon his course of action. He was -well enough acquainted with the house to know that there was a kitchen -door and for this he made. It was locked; the key had been taken away; -the windows of scullery and kitchen were heavily barred against -burglars. Gordon returned to his potatoes with a sigh. He sighed easily -in these hours.</p> - -<p>Again the bell rang. Diana heard it as she unbuckled the strap of her -revolver belt, and put away the weapon into the hall cupboard. She -hesitated a second with her hand on the doorknob, and then the -thunderous rat-tat forced her to action. She opened the door. The -moment<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_159" id="page_159">{159}</a></span> had come. Before she saw the bearded gentleman she knew he was -there.</p> - -<p>“Three o’clock!” he cried exultantly, and threw out both his hands. -“Three o’clock, my bride, my dove, my life!”</p> - -<p>“Come in,” said Diana practically.</p> - -<p>He would have taken her in his arms, but she held him at a distance.</p> - -<p>“The servants,” she said and swiftly eluded his embracing arms.</p> - -<p>“In here,” she opened The Study door. “Guiseppi, you must behave—you -really must. My uncle——”</p> - -<p>“Your uncle!” He gazed at her ecstatically.</p> - -<p>She nodded.</p> - -<p>“In this house?”</p> - -<p>She ought to have been warned by his fervour, but the immediate -necessities of the moment threw her off her balance.</p> - -<p>“Why, of course he’s here,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Your uncle is here!” There was triumph in his tone, his wild eyes fixed -her.</p> - -<p>“Why ... why yes, Guiseppi,” she faltered and he closed his eyes in a -rapt smile.</p> - -<p>“Then the dream of my life is to be fulfilled. Your telephone—I may use -it, yes?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_160" id="page_160">{160}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>He was at the telephone before she could say yes or no. She heard him -give a number, his hotel, and then:</p> - -<p>“You will have my bags sent here at once, to Cheynel Gardens, yes? Two -bags, do you not understand English? My grip, bags, send them to this -place. What is the name, Cheynel? Yes, that is it, Cheynel Gardens, -Number 61. You cannot mistake it. My pyjamas you will not forget. They -are under my pillow.”</p> - -<p>“Guiseppi!” she gasped. “What are you doing? Wait! You can’t stay here!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, here, under your roof. The glory of it! It is wonderful, a -fulfilment of dreams, oh my starry vision! Without your good uncle it -was impossible. You have a new aunt? Ah, the poor Mrs. Tetherby! It was -comical, to me tragic, yet this moment comical again!”</p> - -<p>“But Guiseppi,” she wailed, “you can’t stay. My uncle doesn’t like -people staying in the house....”</p> - -<p>He patted her shoulder.</p> - -<p>“We shall charm him. We shall overcome his objections! Tell me his -hobby, I will speak about it. There is no subject under the sun on which -I cannot speak.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_161" id="page_161">{161}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>This she believed.</p> - -<p>“Your aunt! To me your aunt! Bring her at once that I may shake her hand -and kiss her on both cheeks. The aunt of Diana! Oh divine relationship!”</p> - -<p>In a dazed kind of way Diana realized that the Italian side of Mr. -Dempsi had developed to an enormous and unbearable extent. He could not -keep still for a moment. Now he was at the fireplace, examining the -crossed oars.</p> - -<p>“You have learnt to row, my little Diana? That is wonderful! We shall -row together upon the stream of Time, drinking the waters of Lethe and -forgetting the past.”</p> - -<p>In two strides he had reached her, gripping both her hands in his.</p> - -<p>“Diana, do you realise how I have dreamt of all this, through the long -nights in the bush, in the waste places of the Northern Territories, -where I wandered seeking gold and forgetfulness and finding neither? In -the silence of the native hut, broken by the little birds’ twittering in -the darkness, and no other sound but the sighing of the wind—your face -was there! Your exquisite memorable features, the glory of your hair, -your <span class="pagenum"><a name="page_162" id="page_162">{162}</a></span>eyes that smiled and tormented....”</p> - -<p>He broke off abruptly.</p> - -<p>“Your uncle ... produce him....”</p> - -<p>Gordon had peeled his third potato when Diana staggered into the -kitchen. They were big potatoes when he started to deal with them. They -were very small when he had finished. It was difficult to know where the -skin began and ended; he had cut deep to make sure.</p> - -<p>At the sight of her tragic face he dropped his potato.</p> - -<p>“Anything wrong?”</p> - -<p>“Wrong? Everything’s wrong!” she said bitterly. “I’m going to give you -your chance. I don’t like your name, Dan, and I’ve changed it. You’re -Isaac!”</p> - -<p>“Who!” he twittered.</p> - -<p>“You’re Isaac, my uncle Isaac!”</p> - -<p>He put down the knife, wiped his hands on his apron and went slowly -across to her.</p> - -<p>“I am not your uncle Isaac,” he began.</p> - -<p>“Take off <i>that</i>!” she pointed to the apron. “Put on your coat and come -upstairs. Remember, you’re uncle Isaac and that terrible female—where -is she?”</p> - -<p>“How the dickens do I know where she is?” asked the annoyed Gordon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_163" id="page_163">{163}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Wait!”</p> - -<p>Diana flew up the stairs to the top of the house and in the spare room -where she had intended putting the hired man and wife, she found Heloise -sitting disconsolately on the edge of the bed, a suspicious wetness -about her eyes. When the door was unlocked and flung open, the woman -jumped up.</p> - -<p>“Now, see here, Mrs. Selsbury,” she began in her high voice, “I don’t -know the law of this country but you’ve no right to lock me in——”</p> - -<p>“Do you want me to send for the police?” asked Diana, calm but menacing.</p> - -<p>“I tell you you’re all wrong, Mrs. Selsbury,” said Heloise with great -earnestness. “You’ve made the biggest mistake of your life. That poor -fish is your husband.”</p> - -<p>“I have no husband—fish, flesh, fowl or herring,” said Diana. “I never -had a husband,” and then remembering, “I am a widow.”</p> - -<p>Heloise was momentarily staggered.</p> - -<p>“You can forget all that has happened to-day,” said Diana speaking a -little wildly. “A visitor has come—he is staying in the house ... an -old friend of mine ... in fact, I was once engaged to him until he died -in the bush.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_164" id="page_164">{164}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“Is he here?” asked the startled Heloise.</p> - -<p>“He is here,” nodded Diana, “and he is remaining. Obviously, I cannot -allow him to stay unless I have a chaperone. You are,” she spoke -deliberately, “Aunt Lizzie.”</p> - -<p>Heloise could only look at her.</p> - -<p>“You’re Aunt Lizzie and your wretched criminal husband, or whatever he -is (I can only hope for the best) is Uncle Isaac. Go right down into the -kitchen and tell him.”</p> - -<p>“Let me get this right,” said Heloise slowly. “I am Aunt Lizzie ... you -want me to be your Aunt Lizzie.... and that poor child is to be ...?”</p> - -<p>“Uncle Isaac.”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t gotten it right yet,” said Heloise, “this is a cinema lot ... -you’re playing somep’n,” she had forgotten momentarily that she was a -lady of fashion and culture. “I’m Aunt Lizzie....”</p> - -<p>She sank under the burden that had been imposed upon her.</p> - -<p>“You’re all crazy, that’s what. I’m an American citizen, or near -American.... Toronto, but I live so close that I could throw a stone -across the border. And I’m Aunt Lizzie!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_165" id="page_165">{165}</a></span>”</p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Gordon</span> was playing absently with potato peelings when she came in.</p> - -<p>“You’re Uncle Isaac!” she said in a strained, hazy fashion.</p> - -<p>“Where have you been, Heloise?”</p> - -<p>The sight of his companion in misfortune brought him with a jerk to -normal. Heloise was real, something to cling to; he forgot his -resentment in the joy of seeing something that anchored him to Gordon -Selsbury.</p> - -<p>“Say Gordon, that Jane ... she’s Diana, huh?”</p> - -<p>He nodded.</p> - -<p>“Your wife, you never told me that?”</p> - -<p>“She is not my wife ... she has no right here ... if I gave you cause to -think I was married it was because I wanted you to go. Don’t you see -what you’ve done? You’ve ruined me! If you had only kept away—if you -had only kept away!” he moaned.</p> - -<p>“She’s your widow,” she was very quiet and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_166" id="page_166">{166}</a></span> restrained. He decided that -she had lost her reason.</p> - -<p>“Yes, if you like, she’s my widow,” he said soothingly. “Sit down.... I -will get you a glass of water.”</p> - -<p>“Diana!” said Heloise in wonder. “That’s your little Australian girl.... -Gordon, was she a cop?”</p> - -<p>“A what?”</p> - -<p>“A headquarters woman! She’s got the style. Come on.”</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>“She wants us ...” said Heloise listlessly. “What’s the good of -fighting, Gordon? We’re entangled in the mesh of circumstance.”</p> - -<p>It was a favourite profundity of Heloise; he had heard her say it many -times. But they were not entangled then.</p> - -<p>Five minutes later.</p> - -<p>A small brown-faced man was shaking Gordon by the hand, by both hands, -by alternate hands. In the interval of shaking, he held hands.</p> - -<p>“Your uncle ... and so young! And yet, he is older than he seems! And -this is Aunt Lizzie!”</p> - -<p>He kissed the patient Heloise on both cheeks.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_167" id="page_167">{167}</a></span></p> - -<p>Gordon was a dumbfounded spectator. Who was this infernal little cad, he -demanded—Diana had omitted an introduction.</p> - -<p>After a while it came.</p> - -<p>“This, Uncle Isaac, is Mr. Guiseppi Dempsi—you remember how often I -have spoken of him.”</p> - -<p>Her steely glance was unnecessary. Gordon remembered.</p> - -<p>“I thought he was dead.” So intense were his feelings that his voice -dropped to a deep base.</p> - -<p>It startled even himself.</p> - -<p>“But I am alive! Rejoice, Uncle Isaac! Your little Wopsy is alive! I -have come back from the shades! A syren’s sweet magic brought me across -the world, yea, even through the shadows....”</p> - -<p>He pointed with his whole hand to Diana and then.</p> - -<p>“My bride!” he said tremendously.</p> - -<p>Gordon looked from one to the other. “Dempsi ... bride ... bride -Dempsi....”</p> - -<p>“Perfectly ridiculous,” said Gordon and quailed under a fiendish glare -from Diana.</p> - -<p>But Mr. Dempsi was too happy to find anything in the interruption but a -piece of rare good humour.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_168" id="page_168">{168}</a></span></p> - -<p>“We will have long talks, you and my uncle!” he said and beamed round on -his hostess. “Tell me, little one, have I changed? Ah, but I was a boy -then, a weak, vacillating ignorant boy. I did not realize that to win a -woman she must be carried off her feet. To whine and wail for her, that -is no good; to be diffident and timid—that is no good. To sigh at her -feet bores her, to be humble arouses the greatest contempt ... women -desire in men the grand manner, biff, bang, boff!”</p> - -<p>“Uncle has to go now to ... to feed the chickens,” said Diana hurriedly.</p> - -<p>Mr. Guiseppi Dempsi must neither biff, bang nor boff at 61 Cheynel -Gardens. Dismayed she realized how broken were the reeds on which she -had leant. They also were to know. She came into the kitchen after them.</p> - -<p>“You’re no good, either of you,” she was in despair. “I suppose you’re -good crooks, but that is because you haven’t the brains to be anything -else. You stood like wax figures from the Chamber of Horrors and did -<i>nothing</i>!”</p> - -<p>“What were we supposed to do?” Gordon was stung into enquiring. “If I’d -done what I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_169" id="page_169">{169}</a></span> wanted to do, I’d have thrown the little wop into the -street! But you’re master here. You won’t accept a perfectly simple -explanation——”</p> - -<p>“Your perfectly simple explanation doesn’t go with Aunt Lizzie,” she -stopped him in her most imperial manner. “You might have deceived me but -for that—be sensible, man. I <i>know</i> you’re Double Dan. I want to use -you if I can—if I can’t I’ll send for the police. I’m expecting Mr. -Superbus at any moment—you will be under his eye; try to conduct -yourself as an uncle would.”</p> - -<p>Gordon writhed.</p> - -<p>“How can I behave like an uncle when you’re setting an infernal -bottle-nosed enquiry agent to watch me?” demanded Gordon hotly. “It is -no crime to be an uncle, my good girl! You can’t say ‘Watch that man, -he’s my Uncle Isaac!’ By your standard of ethics, an uncle may be a -suspicious circumstance, but in this country it isn’t ... what excuse -can you give?”</p> - -<p>Her lips curled.</p> - -<p>“I can say that you are weak-minded,” she said, cold-bloodedly, “and -that is just what I am going to say!”</p> - -<p>Gordon leant against the table for support.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_170" id="page_170">{170}</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’m not weak-minded,” he protested.</p> - -<p>They waited until the sound of Diana’s footsteps had died away.</p> - -<p>“This comes of trips to Ostend,” said Mr. Selsbury with a catch in his -voice.</p> - -<p>“If you’d gone to Ostend that couldn’t have happened,” said Heloise -fiercely. “Does it occur to you that my husband has followed us and is -at this moment sitting on the doorstep waiting to free your poor spirit -from this earthly bondage?”</p> - -<p>Gordon passed his hand wearily over his forehead. He was in the depths -of despondency.</p> - -<p>“I don’t care,” he said. “I don’t care about your husband. He’s probably -a sensible man to whom one could explain things. Diana is so infernally -sure of herself that you can’t argue with her.”</p> - -<p>Sitting on the edge of the table, she had lit a cigarette, and was -sending blue, twisting rings of smoke into the air. She did not speak -for a long time, and then only to break in upon Gordon’s gloomy -thoughts.</p> - -<p>“My, I wish I was back home in my little apartment on a hundred ’n’ -thoity-ninth Street!” she quavered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_171" id="page_171">{171}</a></span></p> - -<p>Mr. Selsbury was visibly surprised. He had never heard her say “thoity” -before.</p> - -<p>Diana had come to feel unaccountably fagged. There was no adequate -reason, for as a rule she was tireless; but the succession of demands -upon her nervous energy was telling. She had to watch for tradesmen, she -had to answer the door; a dozen times she was called from The Study to -interview callers of all kinds who, obeying the large notice she had -hand-printed and stuck on the kitchen door, “Please come to the main -entrance: this door is not in use,” fed her with packages of grocery, -baskets of meat, trays of fish. The amount of food that was consumed at -No. 61 was appalling; she, at any rate, was appalled.</p> - -<p>Toward evening, when Dempsi was fidgetting for the dinner she had -forgotten to order, a man called. He was poorly dressed, unsavoury of -appearance. His thin, yellow face was unshaven and he carried his head -slightly askew. The sight of Diana took him aback for a moment.</p> - -<p>“Good evening, miss,” he said, touching his cap. “I’ve called for the -money.”</p> - -<p>“Whose money?” she asked, surprised.</p> - -<p>“Mine: I cleaned the windows yesterday.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_172" id="page_172">{172}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Then she recalled him. Heloise had complained that the man was “nosing -round The Study,” and expressed doubts about his honesty and bona fides.</p> - -<p>“Name of Stark, miss,” he said encouragingly.</p> - -<p>“I remember.” She went in search of her bag.</p> - -<p>When she came back, he was examining the lock of the door with -professional interest. He was once a lock-maker, he offered the excuse -for his curiosity. If Diana had not been wearing very soft-soled boots, -the excuse would have been unnecessary.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Selsbury not in, miss?” as she counted the money in his hand.</p> - -<p>“No,” she said shortly.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Trenter in, miss?”</p> - -<p>“No.” Her eyes gleamed.</p> - -<p>“Will Mr. Selsbury be away long—I wanted to see him about a job?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know when he will be back,” she said. “There are several men in -the house: would you like to see one?”</p> - -<p>His expression changed.</p> - -<p>“No, thank you, miss.”</p> - -<p>She closed the door on him and wondered when the Watch Dog would -arrive.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_173" id="page_173">{173}</a></span></p> - -<p>There was still a lot of money in the safe. Those unaware of her -obligations to Mr. Dempsi might imagine there was more.</p> - -<p>Dempsi had wandered out of the room when she came in, and she went -swiftly to the safe. It was one of those old-fashioned receptables that -had, in addition to the combination, a further lock operated by a key. -Gordon had once told her that the key was never used; he had once -mislaid it and had to summon experts to open the door. She searched his -writing-table, pulling out drawers (she opened them all without -difficulty) and at last, in a small envelope inscribed gratuitously -“Key,” she found what she sought.</p> - -<p>“Thank goodness!” said Diana.</p> - -<p>A turn of her wrist and the safe was secure even against those who by -cunning or violence had obtained the code word.</p> - -<p>Mr. Julius Superbus came importantly, descending from a taxicab and -drawing out after him a large tin box, mottled red and black. He -produced, also from the interior of the cab, a large scrap-book fastened -about with a broad green canvas strap. He also delivered from the cab a -daring golf cap. These he deposited on the sidewalk, paid the taximan -his fare, climbing in<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_174" id="page_174">{174}</a></span>side to verify what had seemed to be a -preposterous statement of claim, and donated the driver sixpence. Diana -in the note she had scrawled had added a P.S. “Spare no expense.”</p> - -<p>Gathering his belongings under both arms, he went up the steps, stooped -and pressed the bell with his nose, a clever little device that had once -come to him as an inspiration and which in itself advertised his -originality.</p> - -<p>Diana answered the door.</p> - -<p>“You sent for me,” said Julius simply. “I have come.”</p> - -<p>She was obviously relieved to see him, and piloted him into the -dining-room.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Superbus, I am going to make great demands upon you, and I’m sure I -shall not ask in vain. I am in the greatest trouble.”</p> - -<p>He inclined his head.</p> - -<p>“Have you searched all your clothes?” he asked quickly. “You’ve lost -something—I know this by, so to speak, a method of my own. It’s natural -to suspect servants—but do they do it, ma’am? Not once in fifty -times——”</p> - -<p>“I’ve lost nothing. Mr. Superbus, my uncle is here——”</p> - -<p>She was doubtful as to how she should go on.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_175" id="page_175">{175}</a></span> Should she take him -entirely into her confidence? A wild idea, but not without its -advantage.</p> - -<p>“Relations,” the Roman pronounced, “are best apart. They come, they -borrow money, they eat you out of house and home, and when they go, they -haven’t a good word for you. Uncles especially. Leave him to me, ma’am; -I’ll put the case to him man to man. He’ll be out of this house ...” he -looked at his watch—“in five minutes.”</p> - -<p>She enlightened him briefly: her uncle was a welcome visitor; a nice -man, very much like Mr. Selsbury in appearance and as young. Only ... -she tapped her forehead. Mr. Superbus understood.</p> - -<p>“Tact,” he said, “tact and humour. Let ’em think they’re havin’ their -way and then the iron hand in the velvet glove—an expression I invented -myself,” he appended modestly. “Leave him to me. You couldn’t come to -anybody better than me, ma’am. We’ve had several lunatics in our -family”—Diana stepped back a pace—“and his good lady is here?”</p> - -<p>“Aunt Lizzie.”</p> - -<p>“That makes it a <i>little</i> awkward,” regretted Superbus, “owing to the -difficulty of watching<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_176" id="page_176">{176}</a></span> him when he’s asleep. Unless Aunt Lizzie would -mind? I am a family man.”</p> - -<p>“She might object,” said Diana. “No, I don’t think that you need do -that. If you can keep a general eye on him. He must not leave the house -on any excuse.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus smiled.</p> - -<p>“You needn’t worry about that, ma’am,” he said.</p> - -<p>There followed more instructions and warnings. Diana flew into The Study -to pacify a distracted Dempsi, whose urgent voice had interrupted her -twice during the interview with the detective.</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus went into the kitchen thoughtfully. He saw no resemblance -between Gordon Selsbury and his uncle. He noted that in Aunt Lizzie’s -face was an expression of uneasiness.</p> - -<p>“Good afternoon,” he said. “My name’s Smith.”</p> - -<p>Gordon pointed to the door.</p> - -<p>“Go out and change it,” he said.</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus was amused.</p> - -<p>“I thought I’d pop down and have a look at you, Uncle Isaac,” he said, -and bowed to the lady, “and Aunt Lizzie.” He radiated compassion.</p> - -<p>“Get out!” roared Gordon, red of face. “Go<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_177" id="page_177">{177}</a></span> back to the lady who employs -you and tell her that I give her ten minutes to hand me my keys and kick -her infernal Dempsi out of the house!”</p> - -<p>“What’s the good?” It was Heloise who spoke. “If you make a fuss you’ll -be seeing the judge on Monday.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t care!” Gordon was toeing the limit. “I simply don’t care. I’m -the master of this house and I will assert myself.”</p> - -<p>“Say, Gor-don! What am I—one of the extras? Ain’t I got any say in -this? You don’t care! Well, I’m certainly glad you’re that way—it’s -grand. But I allowed myself to be trapped by a she-octopus and I’ll find -another way of getting out than taking the short trail to the hutch. And -the only way out is to behave.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus agreed. He was not unprepared for the claim that Gordon was -master of the house: against this strange hallucination on the part of -Uncle Isaac that he was his own nephew, Diana had warned him.</p> - -<p>“You’re a good lad and I’m a good lad,” he murmured. “We’re all good -lads together.”</p> - -<p>He winked at Heloise. Susceptible to such signals, Heloise winked back.</p> - -<p>It was maddening—to what degree, Gordon<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_178" id="page_178">{178}</a></span> learnt painfully. Mr. Superbus -was so kind and so helpful and so tolerant. Gordon went into his pantry -and searched for a large, razor-sharp carving knife. There are some -things no man can endure—kindness is one of them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_179" id="page_179">{179}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Life</span>,” said Mr. Dempsi, stretching the toes of his small feet to the -fire with a luxurious intake of breath, “is a beautiful thing. From the -utter depths of loveless despair to the sublime accomplishment of -heart’s desire—what a transition, my own!”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Dempsi—” began Diana.</p> - -<p>“Wopsy,” he murmured reproachfully.</p> - -<p>“Well—Wopsy. I have allowed you to stay because I wanted a quiet talk -with you. A quiet talk,” she stressed the qualification as he reached -out for a hand that was not there.</p> - -<p>“Silence is so wonderful.” He turned his languishing eyes upon her. -“Silence and thought and The Woman.”</p> - -<p>But Diana had her piece to say, carefully prepared and rehearsed in the -solitude of her room.</p> - -<p>“Five years ago you were good enough to ask me to marry you. I refused. -People say that young girls are brainless—the fact that I declined the -honour you offered is proof to the contrary.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_180" id="page_180">{180}</a></span> What I felt then, I feel -now. My heart is in the grave!”</p> - -<p>“<i>My</i> grave.” His smile was melancholy but complacent.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be silly. You are alive, I’m sorry—I mean I should be sorry if -you weren’t. I had a lover—my heart went out to him, Wopsy,”—her voice -trembled, she thought there were tears in his sympathetic eyes, “but he -passed.”</p> - -<p>“Ran away from you?” Mr. Dempsi sat up.</p> - -<p>“When I say ‘passed’<span class="lftspc">”</span>—there was more than a trace of acid in Diana’s -voice—“I mean ... to the Great Beyond.”</p> - -<p>“Pegged out?” Dempsi shrugged. “These things happen. Once I loved a -girl—oh, Diana, such a girl amongst girls! Tall, divinely fair, -gracious in every look and movement. She also passed—to the Great -Beyond.”</p> - -<p>“She died?” whispered Diana.</p> - -<p>“She went on to the stage—in America,” said Dempsi. “She was dead to -me. I cut her out of my heart. I could have killed myself, but I said: -‘Wopsy, have you forgotten your little Diana—your first, your only -love?’ With a courage that I have often admired, I forgot her. She is -now the greatest screen vamp in Hollywood. I see<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_181" id="page_181">{181}</a></span> her frequently without -a tremor. Such things happen.”</p> - -<p>Diana was unmoved, though a little discouraged.</p> - -<p>“My love will never be forgotten,” she gulped. “Wopsy, you see how -impossible it is—did you get the money?”</p> - -<p>“The money—you sent it to me? But, Diana, how foolish!”</p> - -<p>“I sent it by cheque,” she said.</p> - -<p>He sank back again in his chair.</p> - -<p>“You are a foolish little one. Money!” He laughed cruelly. “How you -Anglo-Saxons worship money! To men of my temperament ...!” He snapped -his fingers. “As to your unfaithfulness to the great ideal I provided, -your heartless disregard for my memory, I forgive you. You were only a -child—you could not be expected to cherish the memory of the man who -died for you. That is past. We belong to the Day—to-morrow, Monday, -Tuesday we shall be married.”</p> - -<p>“What are we doing on Wednesday?” she asked. “Forgive me for looking so -far ahead.”</p> - -<p>For a second he was disconcerted, uneasy: that he betrayed in his -laughter.</p> - -<p>“My dear little Diana, how droll you are<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_182" id="page_182">{182}</a></span>——”</p> - -<p>“Listen, Dempsi or Wopsy, as the case may be—you are returning to your -hotel to-morrow. We are not getting married on Monday, Tuesday or -Wednesday. Shall I tell you why? I see that you are interested. Because -I don’t want to marry you.”</p> - -<p>His face darkened.</p> - -<p>“This is Uncle Isaac!” he said between his teeth. “The influence of that -man is diabolical! All my life I have been thwarted by aunts and uncles. -He shall answer to me—Guiseppi Dempsi!”</p> - -<p>He flung out of his chair, took two strides toward the door, when she -caught his arms desperately.</p> - -<p>“Let me go,” he stormed.</p> - -<p>“If you leave this room I will telephone for the police!”</p> - -<p>The tension relaxed.</p> - -<p>“For me—the police for me!” He covered his face in his hands and his -shoulders heaved convulsively. Diana felt no regrets.</p> - -<p>“And she of whom I dreamt threatens me. Let me die!”</p> - -<p>Diana let him. At the end of three minutes he was still alive.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_183" id="page_183">{183}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Mr. Dempsi, dry your eyes.”</p> - -<p>Like a faithful but heart-broken hound, he obeyed.</p> - -<p>“You may stay here to-night,” she said; “your bedroom is at the top of -the stairs. I hope you sleep well. If you want anything, ring the bell. -Good-night.”</p> - -<p>He turned wearily toward the door.</p> - -<p>“This is not Diana.”</p> - -<p>His dejection would have touched a heart of stone. Diana was unmoved. -She heard his door close, went silently up the stairs and slipped a key -into the lock. He heard, too late, the grating of steel against steel. -Before he could reach the door the lock snapped.</p> - -<p>“Who is that—who has locked the door? Open it at once.”</p> - -<p>“It is I,” said Diana in a low voice.</p> - -<p>“But, Diana, this is extraordinary!”</p> - -<p>“I do it for your own protection,” she whispered through the keyhole. -“Uncle Isaac does not like you—and <i>he is armed</i>.”</p> - -<p>A silence.</p> - -<p>“But this is dangerous! If there is a fire——”</p> - -<p>“Use the extinguisher!” she hissed. “It is hanging in the wardrobe.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_184" id="page_184">{184}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>She was tired, aching in every limb, immensely lonely. Oh, for the -comforting presence of Gordon! Or even Eleanor, at that moment sitting -in agitated conference with Mrs. Magglesark, discussing the strange -behaviour of mistresses in general and Australian mistresses in -particular.</p> - -<p>Happily there was Mr. Superbus.</p> - -<p>The faint sound of music came up from the servants’ hall as she -descended the stairs. Mr. Superbus was playing a mouth-organ softly, -almost musically. Aunt Lizzie sat before the kitchen fire, chin in hand. -Uncle Isaac leant against the kitchen dresser, glowering at the -musician. The harmonies were confirmed as she opened the door.</p> - -<p>“Had a pleasant evening?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“I’ve had nothing to eat but bread and cheese,” said Gordon. “This -little joke of yours is going too far, Diana.”</p> - -<p>She looked at him aghast.</p> - -<p>“We didn’t have any dinner!” she said in dismay, tempered with the -satisfaction that Dempsi was at that moment starving in his locked room. -“I haven’t even had bread and cheese—it is time for you to go to bed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_185" id="page_185">{185}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“I’ll go when I please,” said Gordon loudly.</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus shook his head reprovingly.</p> - -<p>“Naughty, naughty!” he chided. “That’s not like my Uncle Isaac. And he’s -been such a good boy, ma’am, singing as gay as a lark.”</p> - -<p>Gordon blushed.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t sing, you jackass!” he growled.</p> - -<p>“Didn’t he sing, Aunt Lizzie?”</p> - -<p>She shrugged indifferent shoulders.</p> - -<p>“Well, if he didn’t sing he ’ummed,” insisted Mr. Superbus.</p> - -<p>His repertoire on the mouth-organ included the Eton Boating Song—Gordon -was an old Etonian. Doubtless he had ’ummed: no Etonian could resist the -lilt of it.</p> - -<p>“To bed,” said Diana curtly.</p> - -<p>Swinging her keys, she had the appearance of a jailer.</p> - -<p>“You will regret this,” said Gordon between his teeth. “I can bring a -thousand people to identify me.”</p> - -<p>“And how many to identify Aunt Lizzie?” asked Diana with a curl of her -lips.</p> - -<p>Gordon had no answer. She had the exasperating habit of shutting every -door in his face,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_186" id="page_186">{186}</a></span> dispelling every wild vision of liberty that hope -conjured to shape.</p> - -<p>Heloise was not silenced.</p> - -<p>“Why, that’s not going to be difficult,” she drawled. “I’m Mrs. van -Oynne of 71 Clarence Gate Gardens.”</p> - -<p>“Very good,” nodded Diana. “You are at liberty to telephone to the -police and allow them to identify you. I’ll tell them that by an error I -have mistaken you for Double Dan’s—what is the word? partners? They -will put things right.”</p> - -<p>Heloise got up.</p> - -<p>“I was never strong for fighting,” she said. “I’m going to bed.”</p> - -<p>Diana led the way, Gordon came after, Mr. Superbus followed, emitting -soft tuning noises from his mouth-organ. Were it in his repertoire, -Gordon would have selected “The Death of Asa” as an appropriate -accompaniment to that solemn march. He imagined himself a malefactor on -his way to execution. Diana had the air of hangman and private torturer.</p> - -<p>“Good-night,” he said mechanically, and stopped at the door of his room.</p> - -<p>“Not in there!” Her loud whisper was threatening. He followed to the -floor above.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_187" id="page_187">{187}</a></span> The room chosen was that in which Diana said she intended -sleeping the man and wife who were to be engaged for the autumn -cleaning. Heloise went in—she knew the room.</p> - -<p>“Good-night,” she said.</p> - -<p>“You have forgotten something,” said Diana.</p> - -<p>“If you think I’m going to kiss you, there’s a surprise coming to you, -girl,” said Heloise, and tried to shut the door.</p> - -<p>“Your husband,” said Diana primitively.</p> - -<p>The door slammed, Diana heard a chair dragged across the room, and -guessed that the back of it was being propped under the handle. Gordon’s -throat went dry.</p> - -<p>“You have quarrelled?” said Diana. “Or perhaps you don’t....”</p> - -<p>“I don’t!”</p> - -<p>The voice came from his stomach—he had never suspected such a range of -sound in himself.</p> - -<p>“That’s very awkward.” She tapped her lips with a key. “You’ll have to -go into the spare room. Come down.”</p> - -<p>The spare room was at the far end of the passage and the bed had not -been made up.</p> - -<p>“There are the blankets,” said Diana and pointed. “To-morrow I will find -sheets for<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_188" id="page_188">{188}</a></span> you. The bed is more comfortable than any you’ll find at the -police station.”</p> - -<p>She locked the door on him.</p> - -<p>The window was open, but there was no method of reaching safety. Here -the wall dropped sheerly to the bottom of the area, and if you missed -the area there was a row of sharp, spiked railings. Gordon decided to go -to bed. For an hour he tossed from side to side, his nerves on edge, -sleep farther from him than ever. There might be a spare key to the room -in one of the drawers. He searched diligently, but without success. Then -he tried the door. From somewhere outside came the sound of a -knife-cleaner working eccentrically. Or it may have been the noise of a -carpet-sweeper being pushed across the floor by one who had no -conception of rhythm. As he turned the handle, the noise ceased and a -voice said:</p> - -<p>“Sleep well, Uncle Isaac.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus, that faithful watch dog, was sleeping on the mat.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_189" id="page_189">{189}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Diana</span> stirred uneasily in her sleep and woke. There was no sound but the -distant snore of Mr. Superbus, but she had an uncanny instinct that all -was not well. Slipping out of bed, she pulled on her dressing-gown and -looked out of the window. She saw a figure on the sidewalk. A man, -slight of build, round-shouldered. She saw him clearly in the light of -the street standard which was immediately opposite the house. She -guessed his face rather than saw it, and wondered where she had seen him -before. Stark, the window-cleaner! Now she knew him. As she looked, he -stood back quickly, bringing himself against the railings. Craning her -neck, she saw a shadowy policeman slowly passing the end of the street. -He reached the opposite corner and stopped, came a few steps down -Cheynel Gardens and stopped again. There was the flare of a match. It -was the hour when policemen produce surreptitious pipes in defiance of -all regulations. The figure against the railings remained motionless.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_190" id="page_190">{190}</a></span></p> - -<p>“What do you want?” demanded Diana.</p> - -<p>Mr. Stark looked up.</p> - -<p>“Nothing, lady. I can’t sleep,” he stammered.</p> - -<p>“See the policeman: he’ll nurse you,” said Diana.</p> - -<p>He disappeared up the passage leading to the courtyard, but presently he -came back and walked boldly back to the main street. Diana saw the -smoking policeman cross the road. There was a brief conversation and Mr. -Stark disappeared. Diana thought she had seen the policeman’s hands -moving scientifically over the loafer’s body.</p> - -<p>She was thoroughly awake now. The hour was 3.15. She took up her -handbag, unlocked and opened her door and listened. The watchful Julius -was awake instantly.</p> - -<p>“It is only I, Mr. Superbus,” she said, relieved to find him so alert. -“I am afraid you’re having a very uncomfortable time.”</p> - -<p>“No, miss: I seldom sleep. Napoleon was that way by all accounts. Want -anything, ma’am?”</p> - -<p>“I’m going to make myself a cup of tea,” she said, and went down the -gloomy stairs to the kitchen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_191" id="page_191">{191}</a></span></p> - -<p>She was very hungry—she made tea, found a tinful of biscuits and called -her protector in a whisper to share the feast.</p> - -<p>“We might as well have some light,” she said, and lit the hall lamp. -“Come in, Mr. Superbus.”</p> - -<p>The door of The Study did not yield to her pressure, and she frowned.</p> - -<p>“I’m sure I did not lock this door,” she said, and found the pass-key in -her bag. The door was bolted on the inside!</p> - -<p>“Wait here whilst I dress,” she said.</p> - -<p>The eyes of Julius Superbus bulged. Excitement toned his complexion from -petunia to old gold. He was not nervous; he was not frightened. Danger -made him go pale. Mark Antony was that way.</p> - -<p>She was down again in an incredibly short space of time, took the -revolver belt from the hall cupboard and fixed it about her waist. Mr. -Superbus saw the gun in her hand and felt more comfortable.</p> - -<p>“Open the door, please.”</p> - -<p>There was a faint rustle of movement on the other side of the door. A -not so faint click as if lights were being extinguished.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_192" id="page_192">{192}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Guard the back of the house,” she said in a low voice. “He will -probably escape over the wall. Take no risks—strike him down at once. -He may be armed!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus did not move. He was rooted to the spot, as they say.</p> - -<p>“What about getting a policeman?” he asked hollowly.</p> - -<p>She shook her head.</p> - -<p>“I don’t want the police here. Do as I tell you, please.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus tried to lift a foot and winced; his rheumatism had “come -on” again.</p> - -<p>“I won’t leave you here by yourself,” he said unsteadily; “it would be -cowardly, leaving a lady by herself.”</p> - -<p>From the hall there was one entrance to The Study. You might reach it, -however, through the small ante-room which Gordon used as a book store. -He refused to dignify the place with the description of “library.”</p> - -<p>“Stay here,” she whispered, and sped along the dark passage.</p> - -<p>The door was unlocked, the smell of books came to her in the darkness, -and she stepped stealthily into the room, pistol in hand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_193" id="page_193">{193}</a></span></p> - -<p>The second door into The Study opened. The big room was in darkness -except for the faint light of the painted window.</p> - -<p>“Hands up!” she called. “I see you!”</p> - -<p>The light control was at the other end of the room—she felt cautiously -forward. She had taken a few steps when the door into the hall jerked -open and a figure darted through, slamming the door....</p> - -<p>Superbus would have him, she thought exultantly as she ran in pursuit. -But there was no sound of struggle, and when she flew into the hall it -was empty.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Superbus!” she called.</p> - -<p>“Here, ma’am.” He came out of The Study behind her. “I follered you,” he -said; “it wasn’t right to let a lady take risks. Did you see him?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, why didn’t you do as I told you?” she wailed.</p> - -<p>“My duty was to foller you.” Julius was dogged. “It was safer.”</p> - -<p>Which was true.</p> - -<p>She put on all the lights of The Study. Nothing apparently had been -disturbed except——</p> - -<p>She had left the pointer of the combination on the letter “X.” It was -now on “A.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_194" id="page_194">{194}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“Bring in the tea,” she said, and continued her inspection.</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus returned with the tray she had filled.</p> - -<p>“What we want are cloos,” he said gently, so gently that she did not -hear him aright.</p> - -<p>“The wine cellars are closed. I don’t want the bother of unlocking -them—and I never drink.”</p> - -<p>“Cloos,” said Julius loudly.</p> - -<p>“Oh! I thought you said ... well, find some.”</p> - -<p>Bent double, he prowled round the room. Diana ate biscuits ravenously.</p> - -<p>“Somebody has been here,” he pointed to the big chair near the -fireplace. “Look at that cushion—there’s the mark of a head.”</p> - -<p>“Mine,” she was laconic, a trifle unkind. “Look for cigar-ash, my dear -Watson!”</p> - -<p>He eyed her with a certain amount of suspicion which was largely -justified.</p> - -<p>“Come and eat,” she said, and dropped the biscuit tin within reach. “Now -how on earth did he get out?”</p> - -<p>“Who?”</p> - -<p>“Doub—Uncle Isaac.” She corrected her error instantly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_195" id="page_195">{195}</a></span></p> - -<p>Julius could afford to smile.</p> - -<p>“He didn’t get out. I’ve never left my post, ma’am. My own theory is -that it was a burglar.”</p> - -<p>“How did he leave the house?” she asked. “The front door is still -chained and bolted. He must still be in the house.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t say that, miss—ma’am,” begged Julius nervously. “If he was in -this house I wouldn’t be responsible for myself. I go mad when I see -burglars—that’s why the doctor ordered me to keep away from ’em.”</p> - -<p>“He’s in the house; probably hiding in the kitchen. Have some biscuits; -when I’ve finished my tea we’ll go look for him.”</p> - -<p>Julius had no appetite.</p> - -<p>“This is a case for the regular police,” he said earnestly. “They’re -paid for it, anyway. The Government supports their widows. Besides,” -unselfishly, “they get promotion for capturing burglars. I believe in -doing somebody a good turn whenever I can. Shall I get a copper?”</p> - -<p>She motioned him to remain.</p> - -<p>“Stay here: I will look.”</p> - -<p>He refused to stay. His place was by her side and a little behind her. -He liked the way she<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_196" id="page_196">{196}</a></span> handled that Browning. She seemed the kind of -woman who would stand no nonsense.</p> - -<p>The kitchen drew blank.</p> - -<p>“I never thought he was here,” she said. “No, it was Uncle Isaac.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus, back in The Study, propounded a startling theory.</p> - -<p>“There’s such things as subterranean passages,” he said. “I’ve seen ’em. -You push back a panel and there’s a flight of stairs, leading to an -underground vault. You touch a spring——”</p> - -<p>“There are no springs to be touched at 61 Cheynel Gardens,” she said, -“and no panels, and no underground vaults except the cellar where the -furnace is. Go down and satisfy yourself.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus countered graciously that her word was sufficient.</p> - -<p>The hour was a quarter after four o’clock. Mr. Superbus lit the fire, -going very slowly down to the kitchen to find the kindling wood, and -coming very swiftly up again. His teeth were chattering: it was very -chilly in the kitchen, he said.</p> - -<p>“There was nothing to hurt you in the kitchen,” she said.</p> - -<p>Julius was amused.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_197" id="page_197">{197}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Hurt <i>me</i>? I’d like to see the thing that tried it on! I don’t know -what fear is, ma’am. All our family is that way. My brother Augustus -walks through a churchyard every night from the Duchesses’ Arms——”</p> - -<p>“Does she know him so well—how odd!” she said.</p> - -<p>“It’s the name of an inn, ma’am. He’s married. Yes, he walks through the -churchyard and he’s never seen anything. His wife—she’s got a bitter -tongue—says that she’s not surprised. He can’t see her by the time he -gets home. My sister Agrippa is as brave as a lion—it runs in the -family. What’s that!”</p> - -<p>He half rose. From the hall came the sound of stealthy footsteps.</p> - -<p>“Go out and see.”</p> - -<p>She reached for the gun.</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus went reluctantly, making a wide detour. You can as easily -see into the hall from the far side of the room as from the doorway. She -saw him creep slowly onward until he was in a position, by stretching -his neck, to command a view of the hall.</p> - -<p>“Don’t shoot, ma’am,” he quavered; “it’s Aunt!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_198" id="page_198">{198}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Heloise advanced into the room, a scowl on her face.</p> - -<p>“What’s the trouble?” she demanded. “I heard somebody running upstairs.”</p> - -<p>Her eyes fell on the biscuit tin. She reached for a handful, sat down -before the unlit fire and munched moodily.</p> - -<p>“There’s a cat and canary feeling about this house,” she said. “I wish I -was home!”</p> - -<p>Diana was impressed by the abysmal dejection of the woman.</p> - -<p>“Get another cup and saucer, Mr. Superbus,” she said. “Aunt Lizzie would -like some tea.”</p> - -<p>Julius had gone down on his knees before the fireplace, in that attitude -resembling a priest of some mystic sect of fire-worshippers. -Straightening his back, he looked up anxiously.</p> - -<p>“You will find a cup and saucer on the servery at the end of the -passage,” said Diana. “You need not go down to the kitchen.”</p> - -<p>Julius rose with relief.</p> - -<p>“<i>I</i> don’t mind the kitchen,” he said untruly.</p> - -<p>It was Heloise who lit the fire and crouched above it, folded arms on -knees, staring down at the little banners of flame. It seemed to her<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_199" id="page_199">{199}</a></span> -that a million years had passed since she had discussed anybody’s soul. -Watching her, Diana had a view of a delicately moulded cheek and the tip -of a well-shaped nose, and experienced an inexplicable wave of -compassion toward the woman.</p> - -<p>“What is Double Dan to you?” she asked.</p> - -<p>Heloise shrugged her left shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Are you married to him?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. van Oynne was sensitive to atmosphere. No English barometer (the -most restless of all scientific instruments except perhaps a Japanese -seismograph) was quite as responsive to the emotions of others as was -the little detector which registered sympathy in the nimble brain of -Heloise.</p> - -<p>“Some day I will tell you,” she said, in a tone of deepest melancholy, -“but not now—not now!”</p> - -<p>She drew a long, shivering sigh.</p> - -<p>“I don’t suppose you’re following this kind of life for the fun of it,” -Diana went on, her heart softening toward her unwilling guest.</p> - -<p>“You’ve said it!” Heloise nodded slowly.</p> - -<p>“If I could do anything—” began Diana.</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus arrived with the extra cup and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_200" id="page_200">{200}</a></span> saucer, and confidences -were temporarily sidetracked.</p> - -<p>“Sleep well, Aunt Lizzie?” asked Julius, drinking audibly.</p> - -<p>She shook her head.</p> - -<p>“No, I can’t sleep in strange beds. Besides, I’ve got trouble—big -trouble. People can’t sleep when they’re in trouble.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” said Julius wisely. “My theory is that you <i>have</i> slept.”</p> - -<p>She looked round at him over her shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Where do you get that theory? Don’t you think I know whether I slept or -not, you poor ... Mr. Superbus?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Julius calmly; “there’s one thing nobody knows—you can never -know that you’re asleep. You’re a bit of a sonombulist?” he asked with -elaborate carelessness.</p> - -<p>“How’s that?”</p> - -<p>“Sonombulist—walk in your sleep. I got an idea I saw you about one -o’clock?”</p> - -<p>She turned her face away to the contemplation of the fire.</p> - -<p>“Got ideas too? That mind of yours is surely active. If I thought you’d -seen me at one<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_201" id="page_201">{201}</a></span> o’clock, why, I’d die right here at this very minute. I -was taking off—you married?”</p> - -<p>Julius, with some complacence, confessed that he was.</p> - -<p>“Well, I guess I can discuss corsets without offending against Public -Morality. You didn’t see me at one o’clock—I’d be sorry to think you -had.”</p> - -<p>Julius was embarrassed but not completely discouraged.</p> - -<p>“Maybe it was three o’clock—I saw somebody coming downstairs. Ha ha, -Aunt Lizzie, I saw you!”</p> - -<p>He lifted a roguish finger.</p> - -<p>“You’re nutty,” she said tersely, yawned and got up. “I guess I could -sleep now. And I’m going to hang a stocking over the keyhole of my -door.” She directed this remark at Mr. Superbus and he choked -indignantly at the base insinuation.</p> - -<p>“Did you see her?” asked Diana after Heloise had gone.</p> - -<p>“No, ma’am, I didn’t,” admitted Julius. “You can often get people to -confess that way. It’s called the Third Decree in America. I’ve tried<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_202" id="page_202">{202}</a></span> -it myself. We had a charwoman help once who used to pinch my tobacco for -her husband. I tried it on her—and other cases.”</p> - -<p>“You think it was Aunt Lizzie that was in the room?”</p> - -<p>“Certain!” said Julius. “Notice how quiet she walks? That’s a bad -sign——”</p> - -<p>“Notice how she reeks of Origon?” mimicked Diana.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t see her reeking,” admitted Mr. Superbus, confused.</p> - -<p>“I wonder you didn’t—those heavy perfumes are almost visible. And there -was no scent of Origon in the room—no fresh scent, anyway.”</p> - -<p>It was still dark when she drew up the blind and looked out. She felt -very wide awake without knowing exactly in what manner her activity -might be best employed.</p> - -<p>“Take this key, go up into Uncle Isaac’s room, open the door quietly and -see if he is there. And then get out—quick!”</p> - -<p>Julius did not like that word “quick!” Climbing the stairs leisurely, he -listened at the door of Uncle Isaac’s room. There was no sound. Which -was satisfactory. On the other hand, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_203" id="page_203">{203}</a></span> very stillness might be -ominous. Mad people are notoriously cunning. He remembered gruesome -stories he had heard of cat-footed maniacs who had crept up behind their -guards and cut their throats with pieces of old iron secretly sharpened.</p> - -<p>Julius Superbus drew a long breath. The blood of his Cæsarian ancestors -ran a little coldly; the pumping station under his left-hand waistcoat -pocket increased its thump noisily. Again he listened. If Uncle Isaac -was asleep, he would make no noise. Therefore, if there was no sound, he -must be asleep. He went downstairs again.</p> - -<p>“Sleeping like an innocent child,” he reported, “one ’and under his -cheek an’ a sort of smile on his face.”</p> - -<p>She took the key from his hand and looked at it.</p> - -<p>“You went in?”</p> - -<p>“Right in,” said Julius, sunning his back at the fire. “Put on the -light, had a good look around.”</p> - -<p>She looked at the flat steel in her hand.</p> - -<p>“I only asked you,” she said, “because I gave you the key of The Study -by mistake.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_204" id="page_204">{204}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Julius was a man of infinite resource.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got a way of opening doors that’s known only to three people in -the world.”</p> - -<p>“Come up with me,” she said, rising. “I’ve got a way too—I use the -right key.”</p> - -<p>He walked behind her, temporarily at a disadvantage.</p> - -<p>She opened the door of Gordon’s prison quickly and snapped on the light.</p> - -<p>The room was empty.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_205" id="page_205">{205}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Knotted</span> to the bedstead was a rope. It was of amateur make, being three -strips of blanket plaited together, and the rope led through the open -window.</p> - -<p>Diana looked down. The end of the rope dangled less than six feet from -the window-sill. He must have dropped twenty feet to the stone flags -below.</p> - -<p>“That’s funny,” said Superbus, game to the last. “When I looked in——”</p> - -<p>“Let us keep to facts,” begged Diana, her youthful brows wrinkled. “What -is the use of a rope if it only falls him a few feet from the sill—and -why didn’t he pull the bed to the window?”</p> - -<p>She pulled the bed herself—it moved easily. The weight of a man would -have drawn it across the floor.</p> - -<p>Thoughtfully she took stock of the apartment. In one corner stood a -long, mirror-fronted wardrobe. Drawing her Browning, she pulled open the -door.</p> - -<p>“Come out, please,” she said coldly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_206" id="page_206">{206}</a></span></p> - -<p>Gordon stepped forth with some dignity.</p> - -<p>Standing in the doorway, Mr. Superbus witnessed the astonishing -spectacle and shook his head reproachfully.</p> - -<p>“Uncle Isaac, Uncle Isaac!” he said reprovingly. “I never thought you’d -play a trick like that on an old friend!”</p> - -<p>“Will you kindly tell me why you destroyed my bed linen?” asked Diana, -and her cool claim to the ownership of anything in the house aroused -Gordon to fury.</p> - -<p>“Your bed linen is my bed linen!” he spluttered.</p> - -<p>She raised her hand.</p> - -<p>“We will not go into that matter, Uncle Isaac,” she said with freezing -politeness. “Will you be kind enough to draw in the blanket and close -the window? It will be light soon, and I have no wish to give the -milkman a topic for discussion. I have my cousin’s interests to guard.”</p> - -<p>“Send for Bobbie,” said Gordon, suddenly quiet. “I don’t think he will -have any doubt as to who I am.”</p> - -<p>“If by ‘Bobbie’ you mean Mr. Robert Selsbury,” said Diana, “I’ve already -telephoned to him. He is out of town—probably decoyed away by your -agents.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_207" id="page_207">{207}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Gordon was stricken to silence. The last avenue of escape was closed.</p> - -<p>“Very well,” he said. “I promise you I will give you no further -trouble.”</p> - -<p>He pulled in the rope, let down the window and drew the blinds.</p> - -<p>“Now, if you don’t mind,” he said, “I would like to go to sleep. I have -been up the whole of the night.”</p> - -<p>She nodded.</p> - -<p>“You may sleep, but Mr. Superbus will sit in this room. I will lock the -door on you both——”</p> - -<p>“Personally, I prefer sitting outside,” said Mr. Superbus hastily. “I -should like a smoke.”</p> - -<p>“You will remain,” said Diana with firmness.</p> - -<p>“If he does, I’ll chuck him out of the window,” said Gordon savagely.</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus backed from the room.</p> - -<p>“He’ll be all right, ma’am—miss,” he said. “Trust old Uncle Isaac.”</p> - -<p>Diana knew that it was useless to insist. She shut the door on her -captive and went down to The Study, being confident that he would make -no further attempt at escape.</p> - -<p>She must get in touch with Bobbie, must even risk his annoyance at being -dragged from his bed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_208" id="page_208">{208}</a></span> at that unearthly hour. She took up the telephone -and put through a call. It was answered with surprising rapidity. The -voice of an unknown man spoke: she guessed it was Bobbie’s servant.</p> - -<p>“It is Miss Ford speaking. Can I speak to Mr. Selsbury?”</p> - -<p>“He hasn’t been home all night, miss. I’ve been sitting up for him. He -said he might get into London at daybreak.”</p> - -<p>“Where is he?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“He’s gone to Ostend, miss. He telephoned me from Dover.”</p> - -<p>The news was unexpected and a little alarming.</p> - -<p>“Has he gone alone?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“To the best of my knowledge and belief, miss,” said Bobbie’s man, -tactfully, diplomatically and legally.</p> - -<p>Diana hung up the receiver. Had they lured Bobbie, she wondered?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_209" id="page_209">{209}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Bobbie Selsbury</span> had gone to Victoria to rescue his brother at the -eleventh hour from a situation which could be mildly described as -dangerous. He had searched one Continental train from end to end, and -was half way through another when the guard’s whistle sounded, and he -was faced with the alternatives of leaving his search incomplete or -going on to Dover. He decided upon the latter course, continuing his -inspection of the compartments, roving Pullman cars, peeping in upon -indignant honeymoon couples, without discovering the object of his -search. At Dover he discovered that there had been a relief train leave -Victoria at a quarter to eleven; the passengers were already on the -steamer. Gordon may have come by that, he thought, and made his -decision.</p> - -<p>He had no passport, but most of the restrictions affecting Continental -travel, especially travel to Belgium, had been removed, and he was able -to convince the passport officer at the barrier that<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_210" id="page_210">{210}</a></span> his business was -of such urgency, and his identity so well established, that a little -licence might be extended to him; and, on the promise that he would -return after leaving the ship, he was allowed to pass to the quayside.</p> - -<p>He stopped only to get a call through to London, and, by great good -luck, found the Dover-London wire disengaged. The boat was crowded, and -he was no sooner on board than he saw how impossible it was to make sure -that Gordon was not on the boat by a search whilst the ship was in port. -The <i>Princess Juliana</i> carried Bobbie to sea. He arrived at Ostend at -four o’clock in the afternoon, having satisfied himself that, although -there were many suspicious characters on the ship, Gordon and Mrs. van -Oynne were not two of them.</p> - -<p>He spent two hours seeking the British Vice-Consul and persuading that -gentleman to give him the necessary certificate to be readmitted, and to -placate the passport officer on the other side, who had already been -notified of his unauthorized departure.</p> - -<p>Very few of the Ostend hotels were open, but Bobbie made a tour of all, -examining their visitors’ books. Gordon was not in Ostend. That<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_211" id="page_211">{211}</a></span> was a -relief. He might have changed his mind at the last moment and gone to -Paris, but that was unlikely. Bobbie believed his brother, though he -imposed the limit of strain upon his credulity.</p> - -<p>He returned to Dover by the night boat, and came in the grey dawn to the -port, where he was held for two hours by the outraged passport -authorities, missing the boat train and finally catching a slow train -from the town station. He arrived in London at ten, unshaven, weary and -irritable, and he did then what he might well have done at first—he -drove straight to Scotland Yard, and, fortune favouring him, found -Inspector Carslake in his room. Carslake and he had been in France -together, and for twelve months had worked side by side in the -Intelligence Bureau, where enemy regiments were identified and their -positions plotted, by methods which would have puzzled cleverer people -than my dear Watson.</p> - -<p>As briefly as possible Bobbie told his story, and the inspector listened -with unusual interest.</p> - -<p>“It’s curious you should come to me. I have charge of the Double Dan -cases, and I must say that this looks like a typical coup of his.”</p> - -<p>“Gordon isn’t an easy man to impersonate,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_212" id="page_212">{212}</a></span>” warned Bobbie, “though I -told him he was when I was trying to scare him.”</p> - -<p>“Anybody is easy to Double Dan,” said Carslake at once. “Tall, short, -thin or fat. He’s a specialist—the only man at the game as far as I -know. You didn’t see the woman, Mrs. van Oynne?”</p> - -<p>Bobbie shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Do you know where she lives?”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t the slightest idea.”</p> - -<p>“He will do nothing till Monday,” said Carslake thoughtfully. “Dan only -works in banking hours, but when he does work he moves! I take off my -hat to Dan—he’s clever.”</p> - -<p>“Who is he?”</p> - -<p>“A man named Throgood. He used to be an actor—I believe he’s played -opposite some of the best people in America. He was the English dude -type. He himself is English or Welsh. His partner is an American or a -Canadian, and an ex-chorus girl. Maybe it’s the same—rather slight, -short, with golden hair, blue eyes?”</p> - -<p>Bobbie shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Doesn’t sound like Mrs. van Oynne,” he said, hope dawning in his -breast. “Perhaps I’m mistaken. You’re sure?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_213" id="page_213">{213}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Carslake nodded.</p> - -<p>“We trailed her to Paris and missed her. I shouldn’t think he’d be -working again for a very long time. He likes to allow the excitement to -die down, and I shouldn’t think that he’d take on a new partner; they -require very careful training.” He chuckled. “Double Dan’s getting on -the nerves of some of your commercial people,” he said, “but I don’t -think I should worry very much about him. Anyway, I’ll come along and -see you on Monday.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie went home, feeling happier than he had been for the past -twenty-four hours.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_214" id="page_214">{214}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">His</span> servant had news for him.</p> - -<p>“Miss Ford rang you up this morning, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, what had she to say?” Bobbie turned, lather brush in hand.</p> - -<p>“She only asked if you were at home.”</p> - -<p>“What time was this?”</p> - -<p>“About five o’clock, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Five o’clock! You graven image, why didn’t you tell me?”</p> - -<p>Lathered as he was, he dashed to the telephone and got through to Diana.</p> - -<p>“Is that you, Bobbie? Can I see you to-day?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll come at once.”</p> - -<p>There was a silence at the other end of the wire.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think you need come at once,” said Diana. “Just call in—don’t -be surprised if you find somebody here you’ve heard me speak about.”</p> - -<p>“Not Dempsi?” he asked, astonished.</p> - -<p>“Yes, he is ... staying for a day or two. I’ll explain when you come.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie whistled softly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_215" id="page_215">{215}</a></span></p> - -<p>He lunched in the gloomy solitude of his club (it was Sunday, the day on -which all clubs are at their worst) and early in the afternoon strolled -round to Cheynel Gardens. The door was opened by a stage butler. Bobbie -looked fascinated at the glittering display of shirt-front and the -ill-fitting dress suit, several times too small for its wearer.</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Ford is in The Study,” said the apparition gruffly.</p> - -<p>Bobbie gazed in wonder; the servitor with the concertina trousers might -have stepped out from any burlesque of any triangle drama. Had there -been printed across the dazzling shirt-front “James: an old family -servant, devoted to the children,” he could not have been more obvious.</p> - -<p>“So you’re the new butler?”</p> - -<p>The new butler put his hand on his heart, bowed and growled:</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir—name of Smith.” He was squinting, his face fearfully -distorted.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m going to call you Superbus. Take that look off your face and -stop looking round corners.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus obeyed. He was for a while disappointed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_216" id="page_216">{216}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Lord, sir, did you recognise me?” he asked. “Maybe Mrs. Ford told you?”</p> - -<p>Bobbie smiled derisively.</p> - -<p>“Recognise you! Good heavens, why, you absolutely shouted! I spotted you -the moment I saw you!”</p> - -<p>“That’s funny,” said Mr. Superbus. “My good lady always says that when I -disguise my face that way she would pass me in the street.”</p> - -<p>“How can you blame her? Who wouldn’t pass you in the street with that -face? Even your wife has some illusions left, I suppose. Now, Superbus, -what is the game?”</p> - -<p>Julius was all innocence. A wreath of wild flowers about his head would -not have made him more coyishly artless. Bobbie was not deceived.</p> - -<p>“Game, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Why are you in this house, got up like a comic seneschal? Does Miss -Ford know who you are?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus closed the door quickly and put his finger to his lips.</p> - -<p>“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Ush!” he said mysteriously.</p> - -<p>Bobbie waited.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m ’ushing,” he said impatiently.</p> - -<p>Julius tiptoed to The Study and beckoned him through the doorway. He had -the air of a re<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_217" id="page_217">{217}</a></span>spectable conspirator; one who knew that whenever the -mine exploded he would be out of the way and could, in certain -eventualities, be an acceptable witness for the prosecution.</p> - -<p>“She sent for me,” he said darkly. “Asked me to come and stay here—I -come! Could I refuse? If there’s any danger I like to be on the spot. -That’s me!”</p> - -<p>Bobbie thought he understood Diana’s motive. She wanted a man in the -house; he was not alone in respecting the genius of Double Dan.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I see. Sensible girl!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus nodded.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, very sensible. I don’t know anybody sensibler. She came to -the right man. Me.”</p> - -<p>“I was talking to myself,” a little stiffly.</p> - -<p>Julius inclined his head again.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir; we both heard you,” he said. “I’ve got wonderful ears.”</p> - -<p>“I understand Miss Ford was alone in the house and she asked you to come -and stay? I’m glad.”</p> - -<p>“Well, not exactly alone,” explained Mr. Superbus, loath to share the -honours which were rightly his as Chief Protector. “Of course, there’s -Uncle Isaac.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie’s mouth opened.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_218" id="page_218">{218}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Unc—Uncle Isaac? Uncle Isaac who?”</p> - -<p>Julius had meant to ask this question at the first opportunity.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know his other name—very bad-tempered gentleman. He has fits; -and....” He tapped his forehead, but Bobbie did not grasp the sense of -the pantomime.</p> - -<p>“Uncle Isaac! Suffering Moses!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus shook his head.</p> - -<p>“No, sir, <i>he</i> hasn’t come yet. They must be Hebrew gentlemen. Only -Uncle Isaac and Mr. Dempsi.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie knew about Dempsi.</p> - -<p>“—and Aunt Lizzie,” concluded Julius.</p> - -<p>Bobbie staggered, grasped the mantelpiece for support, and turned a wan -countenance to the shirt-fronted butler. The unreality of the position -was intensified. Presently Julius would produce two rabbits and a bowl -of goldfish from a silk hat, and Diana would skip on to the scene in a -ballet dress and a fixed smile. And then Bobbie would wake up.</p> - -<p>“Do you mind pouring out a drink?” he asked faintly. “My hand’s not -steady.”</p> - -<p>The Great Detective opened the tantalus with an air of pride and poured -forth a potion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_219" id="page_219">{219}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Say ‘when,’<span class="lftspc">”</span> he said. He would have made a good barman, he was so -talkative.</p> - -<p>“Aunt Lizzie, I think you said?”</p> - -<p>Bobbie had reviewed his relations, but no Aunt Lizzie showed in their -serried ranks.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir—she came with Uncle Isaac, yesterday afternoon. Rare pretty -young lady she is too. Naturally she and Uncle Isaac don’t get on well -together. Fancy calling her Lizzie! It’s common. And when there’s nice -names like Maud and Ethel and Agnes to choose from.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie got back to normal with a struggle.</p> - -<p>“Why—why shouldn’t she be called Lizzie? It’s—it’s an auntish name. -Aunt Lizzie!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus helped himself from the decanter. He it was who had -discovered the tantalus in a cabinet. And rights of discoverers are -indisputable.</p> - -<p>“Good health, sir!” he said, and drank.</p> - -<p>“Aunt Lizzie!” muttered Bobbie.</p> - -<p>“What I can’t understand,” said Julius, wiping his mouth deftly, “is, -when she’s got a good name like Heloise—that’s what he calls her when -they’re alone....”</p> - -<p>It was not the whisky, for he had not drunk thereof; nor the smell of -it, for the aroma had<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_220" id="page_220">{220}</a></span> not reached him. The room suddenly spun before -his eyes. He saw twenty-four Superbuses wiping twenty-four moustaches.</p> - -<p>“Heloise! Heloise!” he muttered. “Has she—has she got hair dark as the -raven’s?”</p> - -<p>Julius considered. He had never met a raven, but he understood that it -was a very dark bird.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> - -<p>“And eyes that probe your soul?” asked Bobbie.</p> - -<p>Again the detective considered.</p> - -<p>“Well, she ain’t done any probing as far as I’m concerned,” he -confessed, “but there’s something about them that’s—well, peculiar.”</p> - -<p>“And the sweetest voice in the world?”</p> - -<p>Here again Mr. Superbus was handicapped by a lack of experience. Voices -were just voices to him.</p> - -<p>“I’ve never heard her singing,” he confessed, “or talking much. She -swears a bit at Uncle Isaac, which in my opinion isn’t ladylike. Nor -smoking, for the matter of that. The way some of these ladies smoke is -very sad. Smoking stunts the growth—which a doctor told me, and what a -doctor don’t know ain’t worth knowing.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie interrupted him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_221" id="page_221">{221}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Where—where is Uncle Isaac?”</p> - -<p>The reply came like a thunderclap.</p> - -<p>“Cleaning the silver.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie reeled.</p> - -<p>“Cleaning the silver!” he said, dazed. “I’ll wake up in a minute.” He -pinched himself, Mr. Superbus watching and ready to offer suggestions. -They were unnecessary: Bobbie found a tender spot. “I’m awake—it’s -real. Uncle Isaac is cleaning the silver! Where are the servants—the -other servants?”</p> - -<p>Julius could take exception at the “other.”</p> - -<p>“Miss Ford sent them out, if you mean the servants. I’m here -professional. I don’t mind tellin’ you, sir, that my job is to see that -Uncle Isaac don’t go out too.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie began at last to see daylight. If it was Gordon, his desire for -liberty was not only pardonable but praiseworthy.</p> - -<p>“Does he want to go?”</p> - -<p>Julius thought the question unnecessary. Surely a member of the family -knew all about the family skeletons? At the same time it was only -natural that he should pretend he didn’t. Julius was a just man.</p> - -<p>“He’s a bit nutty. See what I mean? H<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_222" id="page_222">{222}</a></span>e’s got delusions, -hallucinations—to use a medical expression. Sees things, thinks he’s -somebody else. I’ve had hundreds of such cases through my hands.”</p> - -<p>“But who put him to clean the silver?” insisted Bobbie.</p> - -<p>“Miss Ford. Said it would keep him occupied.”</p> - -<p>A step in the hall, a heavy step.</p> - -<p>“That’s him coming now. Don’t be afraid of Uncle Isaac, sir: he’s as -harmless as a child——”</p> - -<p>Gordon came in at that moment, but stopped dead at the sight of the -visitor. He was in his shirt-sleeves, he carried a duster in his hand, -his front was covered with a large white apron and a bib that was kept -in place by a pin. Bobbie could not speak—he could only stare and -stare.</p> - -<p>“By heavens, it’s—Uncle Isaac!” he said in a voice that was almost -inaudible to Mr. Superbus.</p> - -<p>“You know him, sir?” he smiled. “I thought it would be very strange if -you didn’t. Members of the same family, so to speak, and very likely -inflicted in the same way.”</p> - -<p>“Ye-yes, I know him.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus approached the unhappy object of their discussion.</p> - -<p>“Do you want something, Uncle Isaac?” he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_223" id="page_223">{223}</a></span> asked kindly, and patted -Gordon’s arm. So broken was Mr. Selsbury’s spirit that his keeper -remained alive and uninjured.</p> - -<p>“Yes—no,” he said hoarsely.</p> - -<p>Julius shook his head.</p> - -<p>“He can’t make up his mind about anything. It takes you that way. I -wonder how he ever got married.”</p> - -<p>Gordon steadied himself.</p> - -<p>“Where is—Aunt Lizzie?” he gulped.</p> - -<p>“In her room, Uncle Isaac, reading.”</p> - -<p>For a second Gordon’s face was contorted.</p> - -<p>“Don’t call me uncle,” he grated, holding himself in hand. “I’m not -<i>your</i> uncle, anyway.”</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” admitted Julius. “I haven’t got any uncles. Not as far as I -know. They run in some families and they don’t run in others.”</p> - -<p>Suddenly his brow clouded, and he glared at Gordon with such intense -malignity that even Bobbie quailed.</p> - -<p>“Here—I’ve just got an idea in my head, sir,” he slowly, “a sort of -inspiration. <i>Is</i> that Uncle Isaac?”</p> - -<p>Bobbie started.</p> - -<p>“Eh?”</p> - -<p>“Do you know Uncle Isaac?” The idea or<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_224" id="page_224">{224}</a></span> inspiration had taken firm hold -of his imagination. “Suppose Double Dan was passin’ himself off as him!”</p> - -<p>Bobbie looked past the man to his brother. Gordon was frowning and -shaking his head. He wished to keep in the character of the patriarch -for some extraordinary reason.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” said Bobbie, “that is Uncle Isaac.” He was almost breathless.</p> - -<p>Julius was not immediately convinced.</p> - -<p>“Are you sure?” dubiously.</p> - -<p>Bobbie became very confident.</p> - -<p>“Oh, rather! That is Uncle Isaac all right—how absurd, of course it is -Uncle Isaac. I knew him in a minute.”</p> - -<p>No man readily sacrifices his inspirations—Julius was but human, though -there were moments when this was hard to believe.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” he said disappointedly. “Mind you, Double Dan’s clever.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” said Bobbie with loud scorn. “He couldn’t impersonate Uncle -Isaac. I would know him anywhere!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, couldn’t he ...!” sneered Superbus. “You don’t know Double Dan!”</p> - -<p>Bobbie had done some quick thinking. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_225" id="page_225">{225}</a></span> must talk to Gordon alone. Mr. -Superbus being impervious to the hints which followed:</p> - -<p>“I want to have a little talk with my uncle,” said Bobbie, “on family -business. Do you mind leaving us alone for a minute?”</p> - -<p>Julius was in two minds about the matter.</p> - -<p>“Don’t let him escape,” he cautioned. “He’s as artful as a monkey! You -ought to hear what he did to me last night!”</p> - -<p>“Certainly not.” Bobbie was ready to promise that he would bring his -brother to execution.</p> - -<p>Still Mr. Superbus lingered. Diana had gone out, leaving instructions -which were to be carried out to the letter. Julius was a stickler for -duty.</p> - -<p>“And don’t let him telephone.”</p> - -<p>Even this Bobbie promised, and Julius took a reluctant leave.</p> - -<p>“I’ll be on hand if he’s troublesome,” he said from the doorway. “Now, -no larks, uncle!”</p> - -<p>“Uncle” mutely promised.</p> - -<p>The portal closed, Bobbie went softly and listened. For a few seconds he -waited, and then jerked open the door. Julius was stooping to lace his -shoes. A less inquisitive man might have been suspected of having his -ear to the keyhole.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_226" id="page_226">{226}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Want me?” he asked with a blameless smile.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Bobbie, so emphatically that Mr. Superbus could not mistake -his meaning. The door closed again.</p> - -<p>“Gordon, what on earth——?”</p> - -<p>Gordon threw out despairing arms.</p> - -<p>“Bobbie, I’m in a hell of a mess,” he said, his tone one of anguish -beyond remedy.</p> - -<p>“What has happened—what does it mean?” asked the bewildered Bobbie. -“Why didn’t you get in touch with me before?”</p> - -<p>Gordon’s gesture cut short his questioning.</p> - -<p>“I tried to telephone you, but I couldn’t get on, and ever since, that -infernal jackass has been keeping guard over the instrument. Is it a -crime to kill an amateur detective? I’ve forgotten. I know that in some -circumstances murder is justifiable.”</p> - -<p>“What has happened?” asked Bobbie again.</p> - -<p>For fully three minutes Gordon paced the room, so agitated that he could -not steady his voice. His relief at Bobbie’s arrival had brought the -inevitable reaction. Presently he grew calmer.</p> - -<p>“When I got to the station to meet—you know——”</p> - -<p>“Heloise?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_227" id="page_227">{227}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Gordon winced. He didn’t want to talk about Heloise. The very sound of -her name gave him a little pain.</p> - -<p>“I found her in a state of terrible fear. You can imagine how I felt -when she told me that her husband was watching the barriers and -thirsting for my blood! She wanted me to go on and await her, but of -course I bolted back; went to the hotel to change, and found that the -valet who had my bag and had taken it to the station parcels office, was -away for the week-end. I came home, and she must have followed.”</p> - -<p>“Heloise?”</p> - -<p>Gordon swallowed something.</p> - -<p>“Say ‘she’ or ‘her,’<span class="lftspc">”</span> he begged. “I feel better about her when she’s a -pronoun!”</p> - -<p>“She must have followed?” repeated Bobbie in horror. “Then she <i>is</i> -here! She—she isn’t Aunt Lizzie by any chance?”</p> - -<p>“She <i>is</i> Aunt Lizzie! Aunt Lizzie! Oh, Bobbie, isn’t this the most -awful thing that ever happened? What am I going to do? I can’t leave the -house——”</p> - -<p>“But why?” asked Bobbie, thunderstruck.</p> - -<p>No man stood less in need of cross-examination at that moment than -Gordon. He had hopes<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_228" id="page_228">{228}</a></span> that Bobbie, with his curious insight into human -affairs, would accept the situation without demanding analysis.</p> - -<p>“I can’t understand,” began Bobbie. “You’ve only to explain to -Diana——”</p> - -<p>Gordon’s laugh was harsh. Bobbie had heard him laugh once before like -that—when he was recovering from gas after having a tooth out.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t told you the worst,” said Gordon gloomily. “Diana found me -here and accused me of being Double Dan. I was struck dumb. The idea was -so grotesque that I could not find words to answer her. Suppose somebody -came to you in the street and accused you of murder, what would you say? -Something amusing? I haven’t the gift of persiflage. I could have got -out of it even then, but that infernal woman made her appearance and -hung round my neck! In a sense she was justified. Diana threatened to -shoot her. A woman doesn’t like that. What was I to do? My dilemma was a -terrible one! I had the alternative of admitting that I was Double Dan, -impersonator and teller of plausible stories, or of telling the -unbelievable truth, which means that she would have thought that I was -engaged in a vulgar affair with Heloise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_229" id="page_229">{229}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>This argument seemed very sound to Bobbie.</p> - -<p>“Who called her Aunt Lizzie?” he asked. He might have saved himself the -trouble.</p> - -<p>“Who do you think?” asked Gordon bitterly. “Diana! Bobbie, that girl is -driving me mad! Why did she come from Australia to upset my life? And -I’m a member of the British Empire League! Curse the Empire! Diana is -terrible! She is carrying on with Dempsi under my eyes. The most -shocking little cad! A bounder of bounders! And Bobbie, she pretends to -be a widow! I don’t know whose widow—I sometimes think it is mine. If -that is so, the things she says about me are enough to make me turn in -my grave!”</p> - -<p>Bobbie was very grave and thoughtful. This was a situation so bizarre -that it could not be tested by his own experience.</p> - -<p>“I see,” he said slowly. “Deuced awkward, old man.”</p> - -<p>Gordon had expected some other comment. In all the conditions “deuced -awkward” seemed rather mild.</p> - -<p>“You’ve got to help me get out of this,” he said impatiently. “And we’ve -got to deal drastically with Dempsi. Why, he wanted to marry her<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_230" id="page_230">{230}</a></span> this -afternoon! Said he knew a place that specialised in Sunday afternoon -marriages! The parson called twice! Dempsi carries a special license in -his pocket, the hateful little dago! I shall do something desperate. I -shall shoot them both.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie was looking at him curiously. His real anger was so patently -directed toward Dempsi, whose chief offence seemed to be that he wanted -to marry Diana: which seemed a reasonable and laudable ambition.</p> - -<p>“I shouldn’t shoot them,” said Bobbie slowly. “You’ll only get yourself -talked about. And besides, I don’t see that it is any business of yours. -They were old friends, lovers——”</p> - -<p>“Do you want to drive me mad?” snarled Gordon. “Lovers! They were never -lovers! Diana—Diana, of all women in the world, to—to—carry on like -this! Encouraging him—there’s no other word for it! Diana, whom I -believed the very soul of modesty!”</p> - -<p>Bobbie had no especial interest in Diana’s soul; he thought she was a -nice girl.</p> - -<p>“It must have come as a bit of a shock to you,” he said sardonically, -and Gordon was hurt at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_231" id="page_231">{231}</a></span> innuendo. “What does Aunt Lizzie say about -it?”</p> - -<p>This was a subject on which he could not speak with normal politeness.</p> - -<p>“Does it matter what she says? Bobbie, do you know what Diana tried to -do? And this reveals an undreamt-of indelicacy of mind. She tried to -give us the same room! A wretched little servants’ room at the top of -the house. She says that Heloise is my accomplice.... It’s no laughing -matter!” Bobbie was rolling helplessly in his chair. “Diana is treating -me like a dog.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie surveyed his relative critically.</p> - -<p>“And you look a bit of a dog too in those clothes,” he said. “Where did -you dig up that suit? Gordon, I’ve seen a judge send down a man for five -years for wearing a suit like that. He said it revealed his criminal -psychology.”</p> - -<p>“Now, Bobbie, you’ve got to help me.” Gordon was not amused. “I’m going -to get away. Once I can get to the hotel to my bag, or even if I could -get to Scotland—which wouldn’t be a bad move—I’m safe. But I haven’t a -penny! She made me turn out my pockets at the point of a pistol. She is -the most thorough woman I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_232" id="page_232">{232}</a></span> ever met. Swore that I had been trying -to get at the safe and searched me for skeleton keys!”</p> - -<p>Bobbie felt in his pockets. The trip to Ostend had exhausted most of the -spare cash—and it was Sunday.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I’ve no money with me,” he said. “I can get a cheque cashed -at the club for a tenner——”</p> - -<p>“That doesn’t matter,” interrupted Gordon. “I’ll tell you what I want -you to do—a very simple service that you can render and will save all -bother. When Diana comes——”</p> - -<p>Here, Bobbie thought the solution was a very simple one.</p> - -<p>“When she comes I’ll just tell her that you’re really Gordon Selsbury,” -he said, and Gordon leapt up from the chair where he had been sitting.</p> - -<p>“Do you want to ruin me?” he hissed. “Tell her I’m Gordon Selsbury? I’ve -told her, haven’t I? But I gave up telling her when I remembered -Heloise. How am I going to explain her?”</p> - -<p>The crux of the problem was now displayed. Bobbie had no cut and dried -solution. Such as presented were so nobbly and damp that he rejected -them without examination.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_233" id="page_233">{233}</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’d forgotten about Aunt Lizzie,” he said thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>Gordon’s triumph brought little happiness to him.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you see it’s impossible? Now, I’ve been thinking the matter over -and I’ve worked out a much better plan than yours. I can get away when -this dithering old ass isn’t looking—which is pretty often. Diana has -to go out early to-morrow to her bankers. That will be my chance, but I -must have some money. I want it before the banks open, so you cannot -possibly help me there. What you can do is this: persuade Diana to let -you have the key of the safe. She’s put the lock on as well as the -combination. I’ve tried to open it, so I know. Get the key and pass it -to me at the first opportunity.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie was looking at him very hard now, and Bobbie was whistling.</p> - -<p>“Give you the key of the safe?” he said slowly. “By Jove!” His eyes were -bulging, his jaw had dropped.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter?” demanded Gordon with a sinking feeling in his -heart.</p> - -<p>Slowly and distinctly the words came.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_234" id="page_234">{234}</a></span></p> - -<p>“You infernal rascal!”</p> - -<p>Gordon stepped back as if he had been struck.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?” he gasped. Yet he could not mistake the meaning of -words and looks.</p> - -<p>Bobbie’s attitude had undergone a remarkable change. The friendliness -had gone from his tone, the light of fun from his face. He glared at the -man before him; judgment and condemnation and doom was in his eyes.</p> - -<p>“You <i>are</i> Double Dan!” he breathed. “By jinks! I was deceived! You’re -clever, my man, diabolically clever. Carslake said you were, and like a -fool I thought he was exaggerating. You <i>are</i> Double Dan! My brother has -whiskers! Where are yours? I thought there was something strange about -you when I saw you. And now that I come to think of it, that -cock-and-bull story of yours about Aunt Lizzie is just the kind of story -you would tell if you were detected—phew! Bravo, little Diana!”</p> - -<p>Gordon went purple and red; he uttered strange, wild animal noises that -had no meaning.</p> - -<p>“I swear——”</p> - -<p>Bobbie shook his head.</p> - -<p>“It won’t do, my friend,” he said. “I see the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_235" id="page_235">{235}</a></span> whole plot. Of course, -you and your accomplice pumped my unfortunate brother, who is on his way -to Paris or some other unreachable place. You discovered that I knew he -was going to Ostend, and you changed your plans. Gordon went to Paris as -I feared——”</p> - -<p>“Alone?”</p> - -<p>Gordon was becoming an adept in self-control. Alone? That was a poser -for Bobbie.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t think of that. But there’s no reason why part of your original -story shouldn’t be true. The husband appears, the lady begs the victim -to go and she will follow. That is it!”</p> - -<p>“I tell you——”</p> - -<p>Bobbie stopped his protest.</p> - -<p>“No, no, my man, it won’t do,” he said sternly. “My cousin, Miss Ford, -who has so cleverly trapped you, must have some special reason for not -wishing to hand you over to justice—had I been she, I would have sent -for the police. She has probably taken the wisest course—I will not -interfere with her plans.”</p> - -<p>He laughed softly—Gordon thought that the immaculate agriculturist Abel -must have laughed like that; there was something to be said for Cain.</p> - -<p>“Give you the key of the safe, eh? I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_236" id="page_236">{236}</a></span> nearly deceived; upon my word, -I was. Now go on with your dusting, little man, and thank your lucky -stars you’re not in prison.”</p> - -<p>Gordon went on with his dusting—he dusted the perspiration from his -brow, and the duster was not particularly clean. The result was -startling.</p> - -<p>“Bobbie!” he wailed.</p> - -<p>Bobbie turned on his heel.</p> - -<p>“Do you want me to kick you?” he demanded.</p> - -<p>Evidently Gordon didn’t. He began to rub the back of a chair listlessly. -He had no heart in his work, and without enthusiasm even dusting is a -failure.</p> - -<p>Bobbie opened the door and found Mr. Superbus sitting on the bottom -stair, manicuring his nails with a clasp-knife.</p> - -<p>“Giving you any trouble, sir?” he asked eagerly, and was disappointed -when Bobbie Selsbury shook his head.</p> - -<p>“None whatever.” He walked back into the room. “Now then, Uncle Isaac, -clear out!”</p> - -<p>“Did he try to escape, sir?” asked the interested custodian.</p> - -<p>Bobbie laughed his Cain and Abel laugh. His<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_237" id="page_237">{237}</a></span> brother wondered where -Diana kept her little gun.</p> - -<p>“Did he try to escape? I should jolly well say he did!” said Bobbie. -“Look after him, Mr. Superbus. You have in your able hands a man of -singular cunning and resource.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus shook his head sorrowfully.</p> - -<p>“You’re a naughty old Uncle Isaac, that’s what you are,” he said. “I’m -surprised at you.”</p> - -<p>Gordon collected his dusters and staggered from the room. He was at the -end of his dream.</p> - -<p>“I’m a naughty old Uncle Isaac,” he moaned. “I’m a naughty old Uncle -Isaac!”</p> - -<p>His moan came up from the deep recesses of the kitchen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_238" id="page_238">{238}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Bobbie</span>!”</p> - -<p>The girl came toward him with both hands outstretched. Behind her in the -hall he saw a strange shadow.</p> - -<p>“Hullo, dear! I came as soon as you wanted me, I hope?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Dempsi was now visible. His black sombrero gave him a sinister -appearance. His voice was querulous, his manner menacing.</p> - -<p>“Dear?” he asked deeply. “Who calls you ‘dear’? What is this man to you, -Diana?”</p> - -<p>“My dear Mr. Dempsi,” she said wearily, “this gentleman.”</p> - -<p>But he was furious; flung his hat on the ground and swung his cloak from -him with the air of a <i>capelerro</i>. Bobbie expected to see a belt with -knives and pistols—the poker dot waistcoat was an anticlimax.</p> - -<p>“I will not endure it,” he stormed. “Do you hear, sir? You address this -lady as dear—explain!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_239" id="page_239">{239}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>She saved Bobbie the trouble.</p> - -<p>“This is Mr. Selsbury, my cousin.” Diana was dangerously quiet. Probably -Mr. Dempsi, from his long acquaintance with her, recognised the signs.</p> - -<p>“Ah! Your cousin! I see the likeness. The same beautiful eyes, the same -firm but gentle mouth. The slight figure, the lovely hand——”</p> - -<p>Bobbie was annoyed.</p> - -<p>“Thank you very much, but when you’ve finished cataloguing my features -and describing my delectable points, perhaps you’ll tell me who you -are?”</p> - -<p>He was antagonistic, and he needed no introduction. For he knew the -bearded man, and shared the spurious Gordon’s resentment and utter -dislike.</p> - -<p>“This is Mr. Dempsi,” said Diana. “You’ve heard me speak of him?”</p> - -<p>There was an appeal in her eyes which Bobbie could not resist. He made a -show of being happy to meet Mr. Dempsi. As an effort of simulation it -was a failure.</p> - -<p>“Won’t you change your coat, Wop—Wopsy—upstairs?” she suggested.</p> - -<p>Dempsi kissed her hand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_240" id="page_240">{240}</a></span></p> - -<p>“My beloved—I go. Your word is law! Sir—cousin—Bobbie, forgive me.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie forced a smile of friendliness. His gentle cousin thought he was -ill.</p> - -<p>Mr. Dempsi went singing up the stairs: <i>Donna e mobile</i> was the song. He -sang it happily and flatly, as though his throat rebelled against this -rejoicing in the fickleness of woman.</p> - -<p>“Suffering cats!” said Bobbie, awe-stricken. “Is that the First Love?”</p> - -<p>She nodded.</p> - -<p>“And is that his style of conversation—a bit wearing, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Wearing? Bobbie, he’s just like that to every man who looks at me! He’s -changed in appearance—I suppose six years makes an awful difference. I -used to think there was room for nothing but improvement, for he was -only a boy then. But, oh, Bobbie, he’s worse! He wanted to strangle the -waiter at the Ritz-Carlton at lunch because he was rather good-looking -and had a sense of humour—he smiled when I made a feeble joke. And, -Bobbie, Double Dan——”</p> - -<p>She saw that Bobbie knew, and sighed gratefully. Bobbie was to be a -tower of strength: she had guessed that all along.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_241" id="page_241">{241}</a></span></p> - -<p>“He’s here,” said the young man.</p> - -<p>“You’ve seen him? Thank heavens! He <i>is</i> like Gordon, isn’t he? The -make-up is astounding. I’ve tried to find out the secret. But he’s so -useful about the house. That alone betrays him. Gordon lived in the -clouds, where there were no laundry bills and no patent sweepers. And he -came in time to be Uncle Isaac. No, we haven’t any real Uncle Isaac, but -he served beautifully, and, what is more, he brought with him a -perfectly good aunt——”</p> - -<p>“The audacious scoundrel!” Bobbie cried wrathfully. “Why, do you know, -he nearly deceived me? I wasn’t as clever as you. I talked with him for -ten minutes about his troubles. He’s evidently studied every detail of -appearance and association. And he makes no mistakes—he called me -Bobbie the first time he saw me.”</p> - -<p>“He called me Diana. But he didn’t deceive me—not for a moment,” said -the girl, flopping into Gordon’s big chair. “This morning I caught him -trying to get into Gordon’s dressing-room! He has to be watched day and -night, and of course he has a perfectly good excuse for everything he -does. He said he wanted some clothes!”</p> - -<p>Bobbie thought that a desire to change into<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_242" id="page_242">{242}</a></span> clothing less vocal than -the suit he was wearing was not reprehensible even in Double Dan. But -the audacity of the man!</p> - -<p>“The villain! I wish to heaven I hadn’t gone to Ostend.”</p> - -<p>She reminded herself that she must ask him why he went at all. That -could wait, however.</p> - -<p>“I had to arrange everything on the spot,” she said, going back to the -hectic moments of Saturday. “Luckily I remembered that little man’s -’phone number—you weren’t here when he told me? Hate, hate, ho, -Ammersmith. Then I had to invent a story—oh, positively dozens of -stories! They weren’t lies—just expedients. The stroke of genius was -the one about Uncle Isaac being eccentric. Happily Dempsi loves him.”</p> - -<p>“Who?” asked the startled Bobbie. “Not Uncle Isaac surely? He gave me -the impression—but that was in his rôle of Gordon—that he hated him.”</p> - -<p>“No, I mean Superbus. He took to him at once—it was the sort of thing -he would do. He kept white mice when he was a boy and adored them! -Dempsi thinks that he and Mr. Superbus must have both descended from -Julius Cæsar.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_243" id="page_243">{243}</a></span> He spent all the morning in the book room searching for -Cæsar’s Life.”</p> - -<p>“How does Double Dan accept your treatment of him—and your discovery -that he was a fake?”</p> - -<p>“That is the surprising thing,” said Diana in wonder. “He was meekness -itself—I never saw a man so quickly accept a situation as he did.”</p> - -<p>“And the perfectly good aunt?”</p> - -<p>Diana shrugged.</p> - -<p>“She was difficult. That is natural, being a woman. But she is tame now. -I called her Aunt Lizzie to save a scandal. But”—her voice -sank—“they’re not married!”</p> - -<p>Bobbie tried hard to look surprised.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t they?”</p> - -<p>Diana shook her head. There was some good Puritan blood in the Fords. -Bobbie never received evidence of its presence without a little shock of -surprise.</p> - -<p>“No! Isn’t it terrible? They’re not married. They are not even engaged: -I could tell that by the way she orders him about. She does so with the -air of a woman who has nothing to lose. But I’m determined on one thing. -I thought it out before I went to bed. He shall marry her before<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_244" id="page_244">{244}</a></span> he -leaves this house! She has been hopelessly compromised. This adventure -shall have one good result.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie was not enthusiastic.</p> - -<p>“I shouldn’t meddle if I were you,” he said, but made no impression on -her.</p> - -<p>Gordon Selsbury came into the room unnoticed. He carried a dustpan and a -short-handled broom. He stood for a while irresolutely, neither of the -pair noticing him. Then:</p> - -<p>“Have you heard from Gordon?”</p> - -<p>Her face lit up.</p> - -<p>“I’ve had the loveliest wires from him. Really he has been most -thoughtful! The dear man has telegraphed from almost every station.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie coughed.</p> - -<p>“Somehow I thought he would,” he said.</p> - -<p>She was searching her handbag and brought out a folded paper.</p> - -<p>“Here is the last, from Crewe; it didn’t arrive until ten o’clock this -morning. ‘Having a comfortable journey. Hope everything is going -smoothly—Gordon.’<span class="lftspc">”</span></p> - -<p>Bobbie sat up.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I say, that’s too bad,” he protested warmly—too warmly, he -realised. “I mean, i<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_245" id="page_245">{245}</a></span>t’s too bad that didn’t arrive until to-day. Write -to the Post Office.”</p> - -<p>Gordon growled under his breath, and took another step into the room. -Diana saw him, but made no sign. He was one with the furniture.</p> - -<p>“If he’d only stay away for another week!” she sighed.</p> - -<p>It was the opportunity for which Bobbie had hoped.</p> - -<p>“You know, old Gordon isn’t such a bad chap,” he said. “I know one’s -first impression is that he is a terrible prig, and his manner is bad, I -admit; and he’s a thought conceited. These intellectuals are. Though -why, I’ve never understood.”</p> - -<p>She shook her head. Evidently she had already found excuses for Gordon, -and there was no need for his championship.</p> - -<p>“Conceited? But most men are, don’t you think? I wouldn’t call it -conceit—he’s a little self-important, that’s all.”</p> - -<p>The hand that wielded the broom trembled, the dust-pan wobbled.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I suppose that’s what he is,” said Bobbie thoughtfully. “Gordon -was rather spoilt as a kid, and that makes a man a little -self-important.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_246" id="page_246">{246}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“And pharisaical, don’t you think?” suggested Diana, considering. “I -ought not to say anything unkind. Really I’m not. He isn’t any worse for -our frankness.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Gordon Selsbury half rose from his knees, his mouth working, his -face pale with fury.</p> - -<p>“I’m inclined to agree with you,” said Bobbie regretfully. “And poor old -Gordon <i>has</i> faults.”</p> - -<p>“The faults of age,” said Diana. “He’s the sort of man who has been -forty-five ever since he was born; but, thank God, he’s not flighty!” -she added piously.</p> - -<p>The sweeper nodded in agreement, but his faint smile was to vanish.</p> - -<p>“Don’t put any man on a pedestal, my dear,” said Bobbie in the paternal -manner.</p> - -<p>“Sneak!” said Gordon fiercely but inaudibly.</p> - -<p>“The best of men make mistakes,” the traitor brother continued. “His -very innocence is a disadvantage. I could well imagine that a woman with -the right line of talk could twist him round her little finger!”</p> - -<p>She dissented. Diana had her own views, and they were mainly unbendable.</p> - -<p>“If I were his wife I should trust Gordon, Bobbie,” she said seriously. -“He’s the very soul<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_247" id="page_247">{247}</a></span> of honour. Whatever you say of Gordon, you’ve got -to admit he’s that. He wouldn’t do anything undignified or vulgar. I -could imagine many things, but I could not imagine Gordon going to -Ostend, even in a mood of theosophical ecstasy, without a chaperone.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie shifted uneasily. He was by nature honest, in spite of his being -a tea-broker. There were certain fundamentals in his code with which he -could not dispense, even to shield Gordon.</p> - -<p>“N-no, perhaps not,” he said.</p> - -<p>She smiled scornfully.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps! You know he wouldn’t, Bobbie! I can’t think of his doing a -thing like that. Why, Gordon is the very antithesis of vulgarity! Could -you imagine him engaged in a clandestine friendship with a woman like -Aunt Lizzie? It is absurd. Can you imagine him walking into this house -with a strange female and pretending that he doesn’t know her when he is -detected? I should imagine not!”</p> - -<p>Still Bobbie had a duty to perform.</p> - -<p>“I think you’re mad to trust any man absolutely,” he said firmly. “No -man is worthy of that confidence.”</p> - -<p>She laughed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_248" id="page_248">{248}</a></span></p> - -<p>“You’re a cynical bachelor.”</p> - -<p>A voice came from the background. An indignant and an emphatic voice.</p> - -<p>“That is just what I say,” said Gordon. “I can’t imagine a more immoral -point of view, striking at the very roots—er—um——”</p> - -<p>He almost cringed under Diana’s gaze.</p> - -<p>“How dare you interrupt?” she demanded.</p> - -<p>“I—er—I——”</p> - -<p>Bobbie took a hand.</p> - -<p>“Now see here, my friend, you take my advice and drop this pretence,” he -said gravely. “You will deceive nobody—though I can understand why you -have not given up hope—and you may get yourself into very serious -trouble. If I had my way, you would be in that position at this moment, -but my cousin, for an excellent reason, has refrained from handing you -over to the police. That generosity ought to be appreciated by you.”</p> - -<p>Gordon set his teeth, cast broom and brush to the devil and leapt up.</p> - -<p>“I don’t care—I will tell the truth,” he said doggedly. “In spite of -everything—in spite of all appearances, I am Gordon Selsbury.”</p> - -<p>He looked round: Superbus was at the door, a buff envelope in his hand. -It was no use; he went<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_249" id="page_249">{249}</a></span> down on his knees and groped for the dustpan. He -was beaten.</p> - -<p>“A wire for you, ma’am. I never knew they came on Sunday.”</p> - -<p>She took the envelope and tore it open.</p> - -<p>“Another! ‘Aberdeen. Very good journey and looking forward to my return. -Gordon.’<span class="lftspc">”</span></p> - -<p>Bobbie gaped.</p> - -<p>“What an artist!” he said.</p> - -<p>She turned on him with a frown.</p> - -<p>“I say, what a nasty journey!” corrected Bobbie.</p> - -<p>She nodded slowly, thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“Do you know, I’m beginning to feel quite different toward Gordon,” she -said.</p> - -<p>The sweeper sat up on his heels expectantly. For a second she became -conscious of his presence.</p> - -<p>“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked coldly.</p> - -<p>“Nothing—nothing.” The despairing man stooped to his task.</p> - -<p>“Where is your—your accomplice?” she asked.</p> - -<p>Gordon turned his head.</p> - -<p>“She’s reading—‘How to be Happy though Married,’<span class="lftspc">”</span> he said cynically.</p> - -<p>Kindness was wasted on such a man.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_250" id="page_250">{250}</a></span></p> - -<p>“What are you going to do with Dempsi?” asked Bobbie, leaning across and -dropping his voice.</p> - -<p>She made a little face.</p> - -<p>“I’m in despair, Bobbie. I can’t count on his losing himself again. The -only thing he shows any signs of losing is his head—and I never knew -him when he had one worth losing. Well?”</p> - -<p>It was Superbus again. She wished he wouldn’t put his hand on his heart -before he bowed.</p> - -<p>“That parson gentleman’s called again,” he said in a hoarse whisper. -“He’s the Vicar of Banhurst.”</p> - -<p>Superbus was country-bred and was schooled in the values of -ecclesiastical rank. The Vicar of Banhurst was a person of eminence. To -Diana he was part of the marriage trap. The steel grille that would cut -her off from freedom. She was panic-stricken by his very presence in the -house.</p> - -<p>“Tell him I’m ill,” she said frantically. “Tell him—I’m—I’m very ill. -Ask him to come to-morrow. And please, please don’t tell Mr. Dempsi he -is here.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_251" id="page_251">{251}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“He said if you’d call him up—” Superbus offered tentatively the -clerical card. She waved it away.</p> - -<p>“I don’t want his address—I don’t <i>want</i> it!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus did his bow and went out. Her face was the picture of woe.</p> - -<p>“Bobbie, what am I to do? That’s the third time he’s called to-day.”</p> - -<p>“Who is he?”</p> - -<p>“The clergyman. Dempsi’s idea! He thinks our marriage is a matter of -hours! It is so like Dempsi, so absurdly, so tragically mad; but he’d -hardly been with me two minutes before he told me he was sending for the -parson to ‘make us one’! And I know which one! I read the review of a -book to-day by a man whose name I forget. It doesn’t matter. He says -that there are conditions in which assassination is the purest and -noblest expression of public sentiment. Will you get it for me?”</p> - -<p>“But he couldn’t marry you in the evening,” persisted Bobbie. “It is -against the law.”</p> - -<p>She was darkly amused.</p> - -<p>“Against the law! What is a little thing like that to Dempsi? He is the -law!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_252" id="page_252">{252}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“It seems a simple matter to get him away.” Bobbie searched his mind for -a solution. “Have you any plan?”</p> - -<p>Had she any plan? Was there a moment of consciousness in the day that -she did not form a new scheme to rid herself of her electric incubus?</p> - -<p>“I’ve a hundred, and they’re all futile and foolish. I thought of -running away. That seems about the only sane idea I have had.”</p> - -<p>“Running away? To where?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“To Scotland. To join Gordon.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie jumped up, a very perturbed young man.</p> - -<p>“You mustn’t do that!” he cried. “Whatever you do, don’t do that, Diana! -In the first place, none of us knows where he is; in the second -place—well ... I shouldn’t do it.”</p> - -<p>Her eyebrows rose.</p> - -<p>“Why not? I could tell Gordon the whole truth, and I’m sure he would be -nice and sympathetic. I feel very sure of Gordon in a great crisis like -this—it is a very dear feeling to have.” She smiled a little -pathetically.</p> - -<p>“Suppose Dempsi followed you—and he certainly would,” urged Bobbie. -“Suppose he found<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_253" id="page_253">{253}</a></span> that you’d deceived him, and came upon you on the -moors with Gordon?”</p> - -<p>The smile deepened; into her eyes came a faraway look.</p> - -<p>“That’s an idea. Gordon would have his gun on the moors,” she said. -“Hush! Here he comes.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie had agreed readily to stay the night, for the great Superbus was -tired, being human, as he explained, and having only one pair of eyes -that needed rest.</p> - -<p>There was a slight scene at dinner (Heloise cooked this, and Diana’s -respect for her increased).</p> - -<p>Dempsi, in his most extravagant mood, called for wine. He wanted wine, -red wine—to drink the health of his bride. He demanded that it be red -and rosy. That it bubbled with the laughter of sunny vineyards. That its -hue be as of the warm, rich blood of youth, palpitating, pulsing, -seething with love. This he said in so many words. Bobbie said something -terse and offensive, and offered him a whisky and soda. Mr. Dempsi -looked black, and Diana hastily intervened. But she might as well have -attempted to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_254" id="page_254">{254}</a></span> stay the tide of time. Dempsi made a remarkably quick -recovery; spoke tremulously of his happiness; kissed Diana’s hand; gave -her for the third time the history of his life.</p> - -<p>When he lay in the foul huts of the natives, recovering from his fever, -when he searched the world through for traces of his lost love, when, -under the starry skies of the Australian bush, he pressed on -desperately, doggedly, unflinchingly, following the trail of his divine -lady—this was the thought he had—Diana! That some day she should be -his! The past sad years should be blotted out and forgotten. All the -misery of life would vanish as in a cloud.</p> - -<p>“Rot!” said Bobbie.</p> - -<p>Mr. Dempsi dissolved into tears.</p> - -<p>“Really, Diana, I can’t stand that fellow,” said Bobbie, when the -devoted lover had flooded from the room.</p> - -<p>Diana lay back limp in her chair, fanning herself with her handkerchief.</p> - -<p>“Bobbie, he’s—he’s terrible!” she moaned. “Bobbie, there must be some -other solution than murder?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Dempsi, in his temperamental way, re<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_255" id="page_255">{255}</a></span>covered his equilibrium before -he had crossed the hall. Julius Superbus was making up The Study fire as -he came in—Dempsi went straight to him, laid his hand on his shoulder, -too overcome for speech.</p> - -<p>“Ah, my friend!” he murmured.</p> - -<p>Julius, at a loss for a suitable response, played for safety.</p> - -<p>“Good-evening, sir,” he said, and patted his fellow Roman on the head.</p> - -<p>“The one friend I have in this house—the one understanding soul! The -one honest creature that is faithful to my memory.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Dempsi invariably spoke of himself as though he had recently -returned from a brief holiday in heaven.</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t say that, sir,” said Julius generously. “There are others.”</p> - -<p>“I do say it! I, Guiseppi Dempsi! Who denies my right?” he demanded -fiercely.</p> - -<p>Julius backed off.</p> - -<p>“Not me, sir, I’m sure,” he said hastily. “It’s the last thing in the -world I’d dream of doing.”</p> - -<p>Guiseppi grew gentle again.</p> - -<p>“The moment I saw you, I said: ‘Here is a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_256" id="page_256">{256}</a></span> man with vision, a big man, a -man of sensibility! Superbus has a heart, feeling, <i>simpatico</i>—a man of -affairs, a keen-eyed officer of the law!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus moved uneasily. He had all an amateur detective’s fear of -misrepresentation. He coughed.</p> - -<p>“Not exactly an officer of the law, sir. In a sense I am, and in a sense -I’m not, though I used to be when I was a bailiff in the County Court.”</p> - -<p>Dempsi smiled.</p> - -<p>“But now you are a detective. A disciple of the immortal Holmes—what a -man, what ingenuity! You are this—you told me?”</p> - -<p>Julius hastened to correct a wrong impression.</p> - -<p>“Private, sir, private. As I explained to you, sir, I was brought -in——”</p> - -<p>Dempsi never allowed anybody else to talk.</p> - -<p>“To watch for a despicable scoundrel,” said Dempsi hotly. “That such -should be at liberty! Double Dan! Even his name is deplorable! Ah! You -are surprised that I have heard of this violator of sanctuaries? You -clever detective, you are astounded and flabbergasted that I also know -of this pestiferous brigand? Superbus, I ask a favour: when you have -discovered him, send for me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_257" id="page_257">{257}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>There was a significant glitter in his eyes. His half-closed hands -already dripped with the blood of his victim. Mr. Superbus was -spellbound.</p> - -<p>“Send for me,” repeated Dempsi deliberately. “I haven’t killed a man for -years. But I will not speak of that. I am too sorry for his wife and -family. I have a tender heart.” He gazed at Julius in admiration. “So -you are a detective! One of that great and silent army of watchers, -everlastingly on duty, standing between peaceable citizens like Guiseppi -Dempsi and the vultures who prey upon society!”</p> - -<p>Dempsi held out his hand. Mr. Superbus, his eyes modestly lowered, took -it. He felt for once that he was being taken at a proper valuation. -Dempsi was a man of the world, a Sir Hubert whose praise was praise -indeed. Julius made a mental note of the words for future exhibition.</p> - -<p>At any moment Dempsi might switch off to an unimportant subject.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it is a bit of a job,” agreed Julius. “The public don’t -understand.”</p> - -<p>“They wouldn’t,” said Mr. Dempsi scornfully.</p> - -<p>“We take some risks,” Mr. Superbus went on. “You can’t get about town -without taking risks—I was nearly run over by a ’bus yesterday.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_258" id="page_258">{258}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Dempsi was impressed.</p> - -<p>“No!”</p> - -<p>Julius nodded.</p> - -<p>“I was—in the execution of me duty,” he said. “I saw a suspicious -looking man—he looked like a fellow that had been owing me money for -years—and crossed the road to have a look at him.” His gesture -suggested a swerving motor ’bus. “As near as that,” he said simply but -impressively.</p> - -<p>Dempsi shuddered appropriately.</p> - -<p>“Ah, it is fine work! Have you brought many men to justice? I see you -have, but it is too painful to talk about. I understand your fine -feelings—you are worthy.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve brought them to the County Court,” said Julius. “That’s not -exactly to justice. People who can’t pay their bills and owe tradesmen -money.”</p> - -<p>The other regarded him in awe.</p> - -<p>“I wonder you can sleep at night,” he said in a hushed voice.</p> - -<p>Julius smiled callously. He suggested thereby that the ruin of small -litigants meant less to him than the indubitable fact that flies have -corns and suffer from asthma.</p> - -<p>“They never get on my mind,” he said; “and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_259" id="page_259">{259}</a></span> as for sleeping—I’m a -pretty good sleeper; nothing disturbs me.”</p> - -<p>He hoped, at any rate, that nothing would disturb him that night, for he -was sleeping on a made-up bed in The Study. It was Diana’s idea and he -viewed all Diana’s ideas with a suspicion which was, it must be -confessed, justifiable.</p> - -<p>“Ah, a good conscience!” said Dempsi. “What a beautiful thing!”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus wasn’t sure whether this admirable characteristic of his -was due entirely to conscience.</p> - -<p>“A good digestion’s got something to do with it,” he said. “I’m a -careful feeder.”</p> - -<p>“Tell me,” said Dempsi confidentially, “have you served her long—my -queen?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus called up to memory his acquaintance with contemporary -history.</p> - -<p>“I thought you had a king in Italy?” he said.</p> - -<p>Dempsi laughed.</p> - -<p>“No, no, you mistake me—my sweet lady—my Diana?” he asked softly. “I -am jealous of your privilege in serving her.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you mean ma’am? No, I’ve only just got to know her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_260" id="page_260">{260}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Dempsi changed the subject abruptly.</p> - -<p>“I will go to bed. To-night there is no lock upon my door. If Double Dan -comes, you will let me know?”</p> - -<p>He need not ask that question. Given consciousness and the ability to -scream, all the house would know from Julius that the monster had -arrived.</p> - -<p>“Why, certainly. But I can manage him.”</p> - -<p>Dempsi bit his lower lip, viewing his friend thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, I shall know the moment the firing starts—at the first bang -I will be by your side.”</p> - -<p>Julius turned white. In moments of great excitement all great Romans go -white. Cæsar Borgia had that failing. And for the matter of that, so had -Nero, the celebrated fire-bug.</p> - -<p>“Firing?” he asked faintly.</p> - -<p>Dempsi nodded.</p> - -<p>“He is armed—certain to be. But remember this—and let it be in your -mind all the time; the thought may comfort you—when you fall I shall be -ready to take your place.”</p> - -<p>Julius stretched his neck forward.</p> - -<p>“When—when I fall?” he said unsteadily.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_261" id="page_261">{261}</a></span> “I’m not likely to fall if I -keep to the carpets—it’s the par-kay that does me in.”</p> - -<p>“You will look up and see me”—Dempsi obviously relished the picture he -drew—“perhaps the last thing you will ever see on earth—standing over -your prostrate body, pierced, my poor Superbus, by a dozen bullets. I -shall be there, face to face with your murderer!”</p> - -<p>Julius closed his eyes and his lips moved. Yet he was not at his -devotional exercises. Before his horrified vision spread a veritable -panorama of tragedy with one notable figure in the foreground somewhat -inanimate.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_262" id="page_262">{262}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">But</span> you shall not die unavenged, my Superbus!”</p> - -<p>Dempsi’s affectionate hand was on his arm. Julius moved away from the -fire; he had gone suddenly hot.</p> - -<p>“You’re sure he carries firearms?”</p> - -<p>Dempsi nodded.</p> - -<p>“Loaded? That’s against the lore, sir. A man could be pinched for that.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Dempsi treated the matter light-heartedly. Julius could not but feel -that his indifference was almost criminal.</p> - -<p>“Certain,” he said carelessly. “I’ve never met a desperado yet—and I’ve -met a few—that didn’t carry a loaded gun—generally throwing a -hollow-nosed bullet. And they’re pretty good shots.”</p> - -<p>He appeared to take a pride in their marksmanship. Julius leered at -him—there is no other description for the grimace.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I suppose so,” he said huskily. “Of course, my good lady<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_263" id="page_263">{263}</a></span>——”</p> - -<p>Dempsi did not let him finish. He became suddenly serious as though the -gravity of the situation had forced itself upon him.</p> - -<p>“Your wife? Have no fear, Superbus,” he said quickly. “She shall never -want. I will make it my business to see that she is provided for. And -your deed shall be commemorated: I promise you that. I myself have -suffered from a thoughtless failure to immortalise my name. I have in my -mind a great tablet of black marble, chaste of design. Simple yet grand. -Plain, yet in a sense decorative. And an inscription in letters of gold:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“<span class="lftspc">‘</span>To the memory of Julius Superbus,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A Hero, a Gentleman and a Roman.’<span class="lftspc">”</span><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>His voice trembled as he spoke. Already he stood before the monument in -tears. Julius wiped the perspiration from his pale face.</p> - -<p>“Yes, very pretty,” he said, and now his hoarseness was chronic. “As I -was saying, my good lady will be pleased. She always had a good opinion -of me, though she’s never mentioned it. But at the same time, though I’m -very much obliged to you, and nobody could be kinder about it<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_264" id="page_264">{264}</a></span>——”</p> - -<p>“Can’t you see her standing reading the inscription?” asked Dempsi in a -hushed voice. “Can’t you imagine her looking up to the slab—fixed in a -respectable church, perhaps under a stained-glass window—with proud, -shining eyes, her children by her side——”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t got any children,” said Julius loudly.</p> - -<p>Dempsi spread out his expressive hands.</p> - -<p>“She may marry again,” he said considerately. “She is probably in the -prime of life. There may still be happiness for her.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus sat down limply.</p> - -<p>“You ain’t half putting the wind up me!” he said fretfully.</p> - -<p>Dempsi bent over him, speaking softly.</p> - -<p>“To-night I sleep in sound of your voice. Have no hesitation in calling -me. Perhaps I may arrive in time to save you. I pray that this may be. I -like you. We are—who knows?—kinsmen. He who strikes you, strikes -me—Guiseppi Dempsi.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus got up; his knees were without strength, his tongue was -parched.</p> - -<p>“Well, if you’re sleeping here, and Mr. Bobbie is sleeping here, there -doesn’t seem any call for me to stay, does there? Not that it worries -me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_265" id="page_265">{265}</a></span> Far from it. Danger is always welcome to a Superbus. It’s my good -lady I’m thinking of. I was going to sleep in this room. Seems silly.”</p> - -<p>“I shall be on hand,” said Mr. Dempsi, and examined the short-barrelled -revolver he had taken from his hip pocket.</p> - -<p>Julius almost swooned.</p> - -<p>“I’m a match for any man of my own weight,” he said, his voice trembling -as he thought of the terrible risk which any burglar of his own weight -would run, “if he’ll only give me a chance. But they don’t give you a -chance. They’re on you before you know where you are—is that fair?”</p> - -<p>Dempsi did not answer. Aunt Lizzie had chosen that moment to wander into -the room. Julius seized the opportunity to steal from the unnecessary -gaiety that shone through Mr. Dempsi’s sympathy—his eagerness to frame -epitaphs which Julius would never see, his cold-blooded plottings for -the future of his good lady.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_266" id="page_266">{266}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> atmosphere of a kitchen, however clean and well-ordered it may be, -is calculated to pall on any man of intellect and genius. It needs the -gross mind of a materialist, a man like the husband of Heloise (Gordon’s -expression was one of distaste as he thought of that man) to appreciate -the lingering fragrance of long-baked and long-consumed pies, the -everlasting aroma which the spluttering hot oven has sent forth from -time to time through the years, to permeate the homely furniture, and -through that medium to retain its delicate nidus for the joy of those -lovers of good food to whom such smells were appetising.</p> - -<p>Gordon had read everything that was readable. He had skipped through two -cookery books, and had read the old newspapers in the wood cupboard. The -almanac above the kitchen range he knew by heart, so that he could have -told you the exact date when everybody of importance was born, married -or assassinated.</p> - -<p>Happily, he had seen little of Heloise and less of Diana. At the thought -of Diana his expres<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_267" id="page_267">{267}</a></span>sion changed from one of great sadness to one of -intense malignity. And then he would laugh softly, for, despite all that -had been said (and that in his hearing) he possessed a sense of humour. -How remarkably capable she was! In his bitterest moments this fact -worked out from the confusion of his resentment. And how lovely! Once he -had tried to patronise her ... he blushed at the memory. Suppose he -hadn’t gone away on this mad adventure, would he have recognised all her -excellent qualities as he saw them now? It was doubtful. He was so keyed -up, his nerves were stretched at such tension, that every note of her -was detected and valued. And of course she was behaving in this -outrageous way in his interest. He warmed at this thought. But Dempsi -... his heart went back into the refrigerator.</p> - -<p>The door opened slowly and he looked up, hoping to see the subject of -his thoughts. But he was to be disappointed. It was Heloise. She threw -down the book she was carrying, tore off the selvedge of an old -newspaper that lay on the table, and, by its aid and the kitchen fire, -lit a cigarette.</p> - -<p>He got up from the Windsor chair before the fire, and, without a word of -thanks, she dropped<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_268" id="page_268">{268}</a></span> into his place. She smoked, watching the fire. She -was pretty too, but in a harder way. He felt just a little sorry for -her....</p> - -<p>Presently Gordon broke into her thoughts.</p> - -<p>“You’ve landed me in a pretty fine mess,” he said without heat.</p> - -<p>She looked up at him sideways, flicking the ash from her cigarette with -a cute little snap of her forefinger.</p> - -<p>“<i>I’ve</i> landed <i>you</i>!” she said ironically. “I like that—anyway, -there’s no call to get mad, Man.”</p> - -<p>A cold chill ran down his spine at that familiar form of address.</p> - -<p>“I wish you wouldn’t call me Man. It belongs to bobbed hair and empress -gowns and art serge ... and soul.”</p> - -<p>She laughed quietly; she hadn’t laughed for a long time.</p> - -<p>“You used to like me calling you Man—in the days of our spiritual -freedom, when deep called to deep—oh, gee! I forget the mush! And only -two days ago I was word-perfect—knew every line.”</p> - -<p>Gordon rivetted his shocked gaze upon her.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_269" id="page_269">{269}</a></span></p> -<p>“I don’t understand ... knew your lines? What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>She was examining the cigarette between her fingers. He had a dreadful -foreboding that a revelation was imminent.</p> - -<p>“I mean all that stuff we used to talk—the O Man! stuff and the O -Woman! stuff. And about our being on planes, and affinities of souls. -My, but I had a bad time trying not to go to sleep. You’re different -now—I kinder like you this way. I’m strong for common sense and nature. -Man! I’ve been the making of you.”</p> - -<p>“The breaking of me, you mean,” he snapped, the old grievance revived. -“If you hadn’t come here, I could have explained everything to -Diana—Miss Ford.”</p> - -<p>“I like ‘Diana’ better,” she said. “That young dame is surely no miss. -She’s either been married or she’s studied first-hand. If I hadn’t -come!” She jerked up her head derisively.</p> - -<p>“Why did you?” he asked. Even now he half believed the story she had -told. Illusions die hard, but she was mercifully sudden.</p> - -<p>“Because my man double-crossed me,” she said coolly.</p> - -<p>Gordon could not believe the evidence of his ears.</p> - -<p>“Your man? Your husband, you mean?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_270" id="page_270">{270}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>She flung away the cigarette, stood up and stretched her hands about her -head.</p> - -<p>“My husband is the straightest thing that ever happened,” she answered. -“I’m talking of Dan—Double Dan, you call him!”</p> - -<p>The tick-tick of the kitchen clock filled the interval.</p> - -<p>“You’re working—with—Double—Dan?” he breathed. Even now he could not -believe her.</p> - -<p>She smiled pityingly.</p> - -<p>“Surely,” she nodded. “Why do you think I allowed myself to be made love -to by you? Be honest with yourself and tell me what there is in your -equipment that a woman could rave about?”</p> - -<p>He stammered a wrathful denial.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t make love to you,” said Gordon hotly. “We talked about things -... and you ... and me—about our tastes....”</p> - -<p>“If you had as much experience as I have,” said Heloise, “you’d know -that that was being made love to.” She nodded wisely. “Maybe you didn’t -know—you know now.”</p> - -<p>Gordon’s anger was rising.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_271" id="page_271">{271}</a></span></p> -<p>“We talked on—on a higher plane,” he said sharply. “We talked of ... -imponderable things. There was never ... never a caress. I hardly held -your hand. Do you suggest there was anything in our little talks about -prehistoric creatures,” he sneered, “or in our interchange of thought -about the subconscious ego?”</p> - -<p>To his horror she nodded.</p> - -<p>“Sure! That’s how highbrows make love. When they start in to tell me -about the Dinornis and the Silurian age, I know they got a crush on me.”</p> - -<p>She herself might have been a Dinornis or something equally extinct and -terrible by his attitude toward her.</p> - -<p>“Then it <i>was</i> a plot to get me away?” he asked breathlessly.</p> - -<p>“Didn’t you know?” She was frankly surprised. “You’re a slow -thinker—but you’re right! It was my job to get you away good and safe, -and I could have done it, whilst Double Dan——”</p> - -<p>“Impersonated me!”</p> - -<p>He saw all things clearly. Mysteries were mysteries no more. There was -little left upon which a harassed man need speculate.</p> - -<p>Her face was sombre and brooding. Evidently she was thinking happily.</p> - -<p>“He put one over on me. Gosh! That<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_272" id="page_272">{272}</a></span> fellow’s mind is so constructed that -he couldn’t go straight if he was sliding down a tube! And I went into -it with my eyes open—yes, sir. Some of the boys who’d worked with him -and one of his partners told me he’d do it before I left Manhattan -Island. I had my warning—but I’m one of those dames who know it all and -I wouldn’t believe ’em. That’s the kind of mad woman I am. And all they -said came true. Yesterday morning, when everything was fixed for me to -tote you to Ostend, I went to see him to split the Mendlesohn money. No, -I wasn’t in that. But the little friend of mine who brought Father Eli -to the verge of marriage had to go back home. Her eldest boy was ill, -and I advanced her her share. Forty-sixty, that’s how I shared, and how -Freda had arranged to share. And that’s how I paid her—and it was worth -it. Freda put in a whole lot of good, solid work for that guy. Only -interest he had in life was stamps—postal stamps. Freda studied those -darned foolish things so that she jumped every time the postman knocked. -Dan would part on terms—and I’m his friend! Used to be in the same -touring company as me, back home!”</p> - -<p>Gordon was rubbing his head mechanically.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_273" id="page_273">{273}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Your—your husband, is he?”</p> - -<p>Her scorn was visible.</p> - -<p>“My husband!” she scoffed. “Now listen! I’m a respectable married woman -and you gotta remember that, Man! Married ten years. I’ve the daisiest -little apartment over in New York—and a real nice lovely boy of a -husband.”</p> - -<p>“In New York?” he managed to ask.</p> - -<p>She hesitated.</p> - -<p>“Why, he’s not in New York now: he’s in the State Penitentiary—an -innocent man, as heaven is my judge! You know what these Central Office -men are! They’d swear you into the chair for a nickel. And John could -have got evidence that he was a sleep-walker. Yes, sir. He’s been that -way for years. When the bulls got him in Ackensmidt’s Jewellery Store, -he didn’t know how he got there himself—he’s one of the best singers in -the Sing Sing Glee Party, is John. But he’s due home in a month and -naturally I’m going home to meet him.”</p> - -<p>“But is he a—a thief?” he blurted.</p> - -<p>A pink and angry flush spread on the classic face of Heloise.</p> - -<p>“Say, where did you get all that personal stuff? Thief! John’s no -thief—he’s had a lot of bad<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_274" id="page_274">{274}</a></span> luck, I guess. But sleep-walking is at the -bottom of it. When he’s awake he wouldn’t take anything unless he got a -receipt for it. It’s at nights he goes kinder crazy. No, sir, John is a -gentleman—though he’s on the register as a safe and strong-room -expoit—expert.”</p> - -<p>He was calmer now and prepared, if necessary, to enquire into the -profits of the business.</p> - -<p>“He’s a bank-smasher!” he said sagely. “How interesting! And of course -he smashes the banks where he hasn’t a deposit.”</p> - -<p>The futility of his remark was palpable even to himself.</p> - -<p>“Sure thing. That’s what John is. I used to work with him, but it got -him rattled when I was around, so I fixed to work with Dan, who’s a -snake but a workman. I’ll say that for him—he’s all for business. Dan -always treats his partner as a lady. When I’ve said that I come right to -the end of Dan’s attractions.”</p> - -<p>She spoke as an actress might speak about a fellow member of the -cast—without anger, fairly. Gordon stopped strumming funeral marches on -the kitchen table and became alive to the realities.</p> - -<p>“But is Dan coming here?” he asked.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_275" id="page_275">{275}</a></span> “Disguised as me! Is—is that the -game? What a blind idiot I was! And you, of course, were the decoy ... -and all that soul stuff, as you call it, was——?”</p> - -<p>“Bunk,” she said. “It would have been bunk anyway if I’d meant it. That -kind of talk is never anything else.”</p> - -<p>He was still helplessly puzzled.</p> - -<p>“But ... why did you come here?”</p> - -<p>“Because I want my money back—the money I advanced to my little friend. -And he just wouldn’t split with me. Said he hadn’t got Mendlesohn’s -cheque—can’t you see Dan taking cheques? Said he was short of -money—that fellow has got Ananias down for the count. Yes, sir. Why, he -was so stuffed with bills you couldn’t touch him without he crackled! He -had so much money he had to carry it under his arm! When I told him I -wouldn’t go on till he’d settled the old account, he told me to go to -blue blazes. Or some place. Said I’d no right to pay the girl, and that -he’d finish the job without me. But he won’t!”</p> - -<p>Gordon glowered down on her.</p> - -<p>“Why do you tell me this? Don’t you realise that you’ve placed yourself -in my hands?” he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_276" id="page_276">{276}</a></span> asked. “I have only to ’phone the police and you’re -finished!”</p> - -<p>She was not perturbed.</p> - -<p>“Man, you’ve got a head like a haunted house! Forget it—Uncle Isaac!”</p> - -<p>He wilted under the blow. Uncle Isaac! He was in a hopeless position.</p> - -<p>“How shall I recognise him—this Double Dan—when he comes? When do you -expect him?”</p> - -<p>Whatever happened, Double Dan’s scheme should be brought to failure, he -decided.</p> - -<p>“Why, Dan sort of happens naturally,” she said lazily. “I lift my tile -to him every time. He is certainly the most artistic guy in the -business. I can’t let my feelings prejudice me. He a great artist. The -Lord didn’t give him any ideas about simple division, but we’re not all -born mathematicians. You’ll not know him when he comes. He doesn’t -always pretend to be the sucker he’s robbing. Sometimes he’s a butler.”</p> - -<p>Gordon started. Superbus! Yet it seemed impossible that a man could sink -so low that he would impersonate the Roman.</p> - -<p>“You mean—our stout friend the detective?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve known him before to make up like a detective who’s watching -for him, and, wha<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_277" id="page_277">{277}</a></span>t’s more, get away with it. It’s one of Dan’s -favourite disguises, and he’s got others. I’m giving you a million -dollars’ worth of information, Man. You ought to thank me on your knees, -but you won’t. Another good one of his is to be a visiting -clergyman—that’s one of his best. He told me once that he’d made a -quarter of a million dollars out of the church.”</p> - -<p>“A minister—there’s been one here to-day,” said Gordon thoughtfully. -“Why don’t you turn King’s evidence against him?”</p> - -<p>“State’s evidence, I guess that means? No, sir. That means nothing to -me, and you’re insulting me by suggesting it. This is a private matter -between D. D. and H. C.—Chowster is my name—my father was a Reverend -Chowster of Minneapolis and I’m a high-school girl and don’t forget it. -Anyway, I’m just too much of a lady to start makin’ entries in the -squeal book. Birth and education count for something, Man.”</p> - -<p>He covered his face with his hands.</p> - -<p>“What a fool I’ve been, what a fool!” he groaned.</p> - -<p>Heloise looked at him: in this mood he was interesting.</p> - -<p>“Why, I guess every man’s a fool—he’s born<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_278" id="page_278">{278}</a></span> that way, and has got -twen’y years to pull himself right before some woman comes along and -spoils his chance. I used to know a boy in Ontario, where I was -born—Minneapolis, I mean—who got right after he was married, but he -was an exception. And he’d done the mischief then.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll not stand it,” said Gordon between his teeth. “Whatever happens, -I’m going to put a spoke in the wheel of this Double Dan.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t say?” She was politely intrigued.</p> - -<p>“Am I going to remain quietly by and see a couple of crooks——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, say!” she protested.</p> - -<p>“—robbing society with impunity?”</p> - -<p>“That’s fine. And if Dan gets busy he’ll rob with any old thing that’s -handy. He’s a genius that way. My John says that Dan could open a safe -with a hairpin——”</p> - -<p>“I’ll report this to the police,” said Gordon firmly. “I was a fool not -to take this step before. It may mean exposure, it may mean social ruin; -it will certainly mean....” He stopped before he came to the possible -effect upon Diana. “I’ll have you both in gaol—both of you.”</p> - -<p>She was unaffected by his fury.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_279" id="page_279">{279}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Honey bunch, oh honey!” she cooed. “Don’t get mad, baby!”</p> - -<p>He turned on her in fury.</p> - -<p>“You’ve done your best to make Miss Ford think I’m—I’m something to -you. I would have forgiven you everything but that.”</p> - -<p>“Well, ain’t you?” she drawled. “Ah, peachy boy, don’t be mad at your -little snookums! Smile, baby, show little toothsies.”</p> - -<p>Diana, in the opening of the kitchen door, heard only this.</p> - -<p>“Will you kindly reserve your love-making until you are out of my -house?” she asked severely.</p> - -<p>At the sound of her voice Gordon reeled. The final straw had dropped -brutally upon a camel, already over-burdened.</p> - -<p>“Why, I don’t know,” said Heloise, her insolent gaze turned on the -intruder. “It seems to me that a cook’s got a right to a li’l bit of -love, honey? I’ll admit that Uncle Isaac ain’t so cute as darling Wopsy. -But he’s a real nice boy in Aunt Lizzie’s eyes.”</p> - -<p>Gordon would have intervened, but his spirit was broken. He slunk into -the scullery and dropped his aching head upon the knife-machine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_280" id="page_280">{280}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">For</span> once Diana was silenced. It was absurd that she should attempt to -justify herself to a woman of this character. Yet she did.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Dempsi is—is a very dear friend. To compare your—oh, it’s -horrible!”</p> - -<p>She was sickened—the realisation of her own hypocrisy did not lessen -the nausea. There was no comparison. Of the two men, Double Dan was the -more appealing.</p> - -<p>No index of her mind went unread by the shrewd watcher.</p> - -<p>“I gotta stick by this anyhow. It’s no vacation for me,” said Heloise -with a sigh.</p> - -<p>The effect was magical—the frown vanished from Diana’s face and a soft -light came to her eyes.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry for you sometimes,” she said.</p> - -<p>Heloise raised her left shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Why, I’m sorry most times. Gee! It’s a helluva life,” she said -bitterly.</p> - -<p>Diana’s heart went out to the woman. Her<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_281" id="page_281">{281}</a></span> loneliness, the atmosphere of -tragedy which now enveloped her, called for tenderness and help.</p> - -<p>“I ought to have realised that,” she said gently. “I’m sorry I was -sharp.”</p> - -<p>The great strategist is he who recognises the moment when his enemy is -wavering. Heloise brought up her heavy guns.</p> - -<p>“I was a good woman before I met him,” she said with a little sob. -Gordon, a horrified listener, came gasping into the kitchen.</p> - -<p>“You—you——!”</p> - -<p>“Silence!”</p> - -<p>Under the flashing eyes of Diana Ford his courage failed. Like the -fisherman’s wife, he could only stand and watch and suffer.</p> - -<p>“He just naturally dragged me down.” Heloise was playing for safety and -freedom, and she was a champion player.</p> - -<p>Diana’s voice quivered as she turned on the shrinking man.</p> - -<p>“You brute! To think that a man like you should be allowed to prey upon -humanity! I suspected something like this! You are a human tiger, unfit -to live—Why don’t you leave him, Heloise?” she asked tenderly.</p> - -<p>Heloise wiped her eyes and sniffed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_282" id="page_282">{282}</a></span></p> - -<p>“He’s got me—so.” She put down her thumb suggestively. “That kind of -man doesn’t let up on a woman once she’s in his power. She’s his till -doom.”</p> - -<p>Gordon shuffled his feet and she stepped back, fear in her face.</p> - -<p>“Don’t let him touch me!” she cried in terror.</p> - -<p>In another second Diana’s arm was about her.</p> - -<p>“Stand back,” she said sternly. “Does he—does he strike you?”</p> - -<p>Heloise nodded with just that show of reluctance that was so convincing.</p> - -<p>“I’m just black and blue sometimes,” she wept. “He’ll beat me for this, -sure. Don’t trouble about me, Miss Ford—I’m naturally worthless. I must -stand by Dan to the end of the chapter—heaven help me!”</p> - -<p>“You villain!” The girl was in tears too. Gordon was beyond weeping. -“But why can’t you leave him?” Diana’s voice was low and vibrant. “Are -you married?”</p> - -<p>The slow smile that dawned on the sad face told its own black story.</p> - -<p>“That kinder man doesn’t marry,” said Heloise quietly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_283" id="page_283">{283}</a></span></p> - -<p>The basilisk glare of Diana’s eyes turned to Gordon, dumb and -motionless.</p> - -<p>“But he shall!” she said slowly.</p> - -<p>Heloise went swiftly past her and fell on her knees at Gordon’s feet. He -did not even attempt to draw his hands away when she clutched them. This -nightmare would pass—he was sure of that. Monstrous things like this -did not happen in a well-ordered world. He had only to keep quiet and -calm and presently Trenter’s voice would say: “Eight o’clock, sir; I’m -afraid it is raining.” Trenter always apologised for the weather. And he -would open his eyes....</p> - -<p>Through the haze of his dream came the moaning sound of Heloise -pleading.</p> - -<p>“Dan, you heard what the good young lady said. Marry me, Dan—won’t you -marry me?”</p> - -<p>Gordon smiled foolishly. To Diana it was devilish.</p> - -<p>“Make me like I was when you took me from my li’l Connecticut home,” -sobbed Heloise. Not for nothing had she played a small town tour with -that masterpiece <i>Rich Men and Poor Women</i>. “Don’t you see it, Dan? The -old farm an’ the old cows comin’ along the boardwalk, an’ can’t you hear -the cracked bell of the chapel, an’ do<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_284" id="page_284">{284}</a></span>n’t you remember my old mother -sittin’ right there on the porch read’n’ the good old Book? Make it come -back again, Dan.”</p> - -<p>Her voice rose to a thin, agonized wail. For a second Gordon returned to -near normal.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean by this tomfoolery?” he squeaked, trying to disengage -his hand.</p> - -<p>“Man!” Diana was unconscious of the plagiarism. “Be careful!”</p> - -<p>He shook his head.</p> - -<p>“I tell you——”</p> - -<p>“You shall marry her!”</p> - -<p>“I—I can’t—I won’t.... I’ll see you all to the devil.”</p> - -<p>Heloise cowered under the stroke of fate.</p> - -<p>“You promised me, Dan! You promised me! You’re not going back on your -word? Dan, say it ain’t true—it’s not true, Dan?”</p> - -<p>It was terrible, thought Diana, her heart broken by the woman’s woe.</p> - -<p>“You don’t mean it, Dan, do you? It’s only your joking way?” Gordon -showed his teeth in a fiendish grimace. “Ah, I can see you smiling. I -can see the li’l twinkle in your eye! We’ll quit this business like this -pretty young lady says an’ shake the whole outfit, won’t we, Dan? And -I’ll<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_285" id="page_285">{285}</a></span> be just your li’l wife sittin’ on the back porch, whilst you’re -mixin’ the hen-feed in the garden.”</p> - -<p>“Damn the hen-feed!” he yelled. “Curse you and your back porch! I won’t -marry you. Diana, can’t you see that she’s a fake? She’s acting! I’m -nothing to her!”</p> - -<p>“He spurns me,” groaned Heloise, and fell prostrate to the floor. -Instantly Diana was beside her and had raised the bowed head.</p> - -<p>“Come with me, my dear. Appeal is wasted on a man like that. Ah, you can -laugh!”</p> - -<p>“I’m not laughing,” said Gordon indignantly. “What the devil is there to -laugh at? If I laughed at anybody I would laugh at you, you ... you -booby!”</p> - -<p>She cast upon him one harrowing glance of contempt, and then devoted her -attention to the girl.</p> - -<p>“If I gave you the money to get to your home, would you go?”</p> - -<p>Heloise nodded weakly.</p> - -<p>“You shall have it to-morrow. Come with me.”</p> - -<p>Heloise gently freed herself of the detaining arm.</p> - -<p>“No—no, I’ll stay,” she said brokenly. “I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_286" id="page_286">{286}</a></span> guess there’s something I -want to say to Dan, something that I want no other woman to hear.”</p> - -<p>Diana went pale.</p> - -<p>“I think I understand,” she said quietly, and went out, closing the door -softly behind her.</p> - -<p>Heloise waited, crept to the door and listened before she spun round, -joy in her face.</p> - -<p>“Whoop-ee!” She danced round the kitchen. “I got my fare! I got my fare! -Oh boy, some leading woman! Heloise, your salary is raised and your -name’s in lights.”</p> - -<p>“You, you wicked woman!” gasped Gordon. “How dare you—how dare you!”</p> - -<p>“Aw, listen!” Hand on hip, she faced him, looking from under her curling -lashes. “I gotta get somethin’ on the side. Be reasonable, Man. I’m -broke—I couldn’t raise two dollars. Suppose Dan does pay up—where’s my -transportation coming from? Have a heart, birdie.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve deceived Miss Ford.”</p> - -<p>“Now listen to Holy Mike! Haven’t you deceived her? Anyway, you don’t -deserve a nice li’l girl like that. Don’t think I despise her because -she’s easy. That’s a real nice girl. You lied when you said you were -married—you may<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_287" id="page_287">{287}</a></span> be, but it is not to Diana. And never will be. She’s -got brains.”</p> - -<p>He strode up and down the kitchen with furious strides, muttering under -his breath. Presently he confronted her.</p> - -<p>“You take away my character—you accuse me of the most abominable acts. -You swear away my reputation in a most disgraceful manner. I am Double -Dan in her eyes.”</p> - -<p>She had found and lit another cigarette and was sitting on the table, -her feet swinging.</p> - -<p>“Gee, you’ve gotta get a sense of humour, boy,” she said good-naturedly. -“You’re too serious, that’s what’s wrong with you! She’s a good dresser -too—that gown she was wearing this afternoon certainly made me feel -old.”</p> - -<p>He was cooling down now. The uselessness of argument or appeal was so -apparent that he fell into her mood.</p> - -<p>“I shall finish in a lunatic asylum,” he said, “just as surely as Double -Dan will finish in jail.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you worry. The li’l game is going to end very soon. I’m through. -John’s due home in a fortnight, and I’m just longing for the smell of -rubber an’ oil an’ breakfast. That’s what a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_288" id="page_288">{288}</a></span> ship smells like to me. I’m -going to have it out with Dan.”</p> - -<p>“You mean, he is coming—that we shall meet?” asked Gordon eagerly.</p> - -<p>“We shall meet and he shall part,” she said cryptically, “that’s what. -The poor Limburger! And he’s going to split fair. Did he think I’d sit -down an’ take his twen’y-eighty? No, sir. As a woman the idea revolts -me. I was brought up in a strict fifty-fifty school!”</p> - -<p>Gordon was himself again.</p> - -<p>“Now I warn you this matter has gone as far as it is going,” he said -impressively. “There are fifty thousand dollars in The Study safe, and -I’ve no doubt in my mind that that is his objective, though how he came -to know this——”</p> - -<p>“Fifty thousand!” she breathed. “That explains everything! You told me -in one of your heart-to-heart talks that you always kept a thousand -pounds, but not——”</p> - -<p>“This money was drawn to pay an American,” said Gordon impatiently. -“There is no reason why I should explain why it is here. It is in the -safe—that is sufficient.”</p> - -<p>Heloise had become very thoughtful.</p> - -<p>“Then he knew!” she said. “The piker!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_289" id="page_289">{289}</a></span> Wouldn’t that make you sore! -Fifty thousand dollars—ten thousand pounds—seven hundred thousand -francs—every mark in the world—and all to be cleaned up on his -lonesome!”</p> - -<p>She was apparently oblivious of Gordon’s presence. The immensity of -Dan’s treachery was all-absorbing.</p> - -<p>“So that’s why he wanted to work alone! ‘Get him to Ostend,’ he said, -‘and leave the rest to me!’ And the rest was fifty thousand dollars! -That fellow couldn’t go straight if he was fired from a gun. Not a word -to me either—he expected to get a thousand pounds, he said—it is the -most unprofessional thing I’ve ever heard about in my life!”</p> - -<p>“My dear woman,” said Gordon testily, “the ethics of the case do not -interest me——”</p> - -<p>“But he’s gonna split this two ways,” said Heloise grimly, “or my name -is Johanna Dub. He’s going to act honest even if it hurts him. Yes, sir. -There’s going to be honour amongst Double Dan and Heloise Chowster. -Shame on you, Dan, you great big yegg!”</p> - -<p>The perfidy of the man had changed her whole outlook on life. Her very -ideals were tottering.</p> - -<p>“He’ll split it no-ways, understand that!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_290" id="page_290">{290}</a></span>” Gordon was firm. “I will not -see myself robbed. Do you think I’m a fool?”</p> - -<p>She searched his face for rebutting evidence.</p> - -<p>“Why, that idea certainly did occur to me,” she said mildly; and then -her tone changed. Diana’s step was on the stair. “I won’t plead with you -any more, Dan, there’s nothin’ to be gained. I—I wish you luck! Won’t -you take my hand for the last time?”</p> - -<p>Bewildered, Gordon stared at her, then he saw Diana and understood.</p> - -<p>“Don’t let us part this way, Dan. I forgive you everything you’ve done. -Good-bye, Dan, old friend.”</p> - -<p>She put out her hand timidly. Gordon could have smacked her.</p> - -<p>“Good-bye!”</p> - -<p>“You brute—take her hand at once!” hissed Diana.</p> - -<p>He took it limply.</p> - -<p>“All right—good-evening.”</p> - -<p>Diana knew that the criminal classes were callous, but she had never -realised how brutal they could be.</p> - -<p>“Come with me, my dear,” she said. “You need not see him any more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_291" id="page_291">{291}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” said Gordon; “that’s the first kind thing you’ve said.”</p> - -<p>Diana treated him with the scorn he deserved.</p> - -<p>“Miss Ford”—Heloise was looking wistfully at her benefactress—“dare I -ask you sump’n?”</p> - -<p>“Why, surely.”</p> - -<p>Heloise touched her skirt disparagingly.</p> - -<p>“Somehow these clothes don’t seem right in my state of mind. I know -you’ll think I’m crazy, but clothes mean an awful lot, even to a woman -like me, and these are kind of too gay for a broken-hearted girl. If -you’ve got sump’n quiet and sorrowful——”</p> - -<p>Diana smiled. How well she understood!</p> - -<p>“I know just how you’re feeling. Come to my room, Heloise. You need have -no fear. I will send Superbus to look after this—this man.”</p> - -<p>Gordon thrust out a warning finger.</p> - -<p>“Diana, I beg of you not to help this wretched female. And for heaven’s -sake don’t give her any of your new clothes—if you do, she’ll -impersonate you——”</p> - -<p>Diana’s glance would have withered a waterlily.</p> - -<p>“You despicable brute! Go to your bed and sleep—if you can!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_292" id="page_292">{292}</a></span>”</p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was Monday morning. A church clock striking one reminded Gordon of -this interesting fact. An hour had passed since Bobbie’s “good-night” -had come to him through the closed door of his room.</p> - -<p>“Good-night,” said Gordon.</p> - -<p>“I wasn’t speaking to you,” snapped Bobbie.</p> - -<p>He had been out all the evening interviewing Inspector Carslake, and the -excursion had not been altogether profitable. Bobbie’s door closed. He -heard the click of Diana’s lock being fastened. Dempsi passed, after -rhapsodizing at the closed portals of Diana’s bower. From somewhere -below came the snores of Julius Superbus.</p> - -<p>Every exit from the house was closed, save one. The little casement in -the big windows of The Study. Gordon had made a careful examination, for -there was a possibility that Diana had taken the precaution of screwing -it tight. But this she had neglected, satisfied probably with the -presence in The Study of Mr. Superbus.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_293" id="page_293">{293}</a></span></p> - -<p>Twice Gordon had tiptoed to the door of his room and turned the handle. -It was unlocked to-night. With Bobbie in the house Diana had relaxed her -vigilance. Half-past-one chimed. Gordon got off the bed, put on his -soiled collar and his coat and gathered up his shoes. He was penniless, -but the servants at the hotel knew him, and he would be able to write a -cheque on the hotel note-paper and get all the cash he wanted. And then -he would return and deal with Mr. Dempsi. He had not yet decided as to -the method of Dempsi’s death, but it would be painful. As for Heloise -... he hoped that she would be gone.</p> - -<p>Extinguishing the light, he opened the door and listened. There was no -sound, and, creeping down the stairs, he passed silently into The Study. -Mr. Superbus was breathing regularly—the window rattled a little; the -floor vibrated; but no other ill effects followed. As Gordon stood -listening, the detective grunted and turned over on his side. The snores -ceased—Julius was in a deeper sleep than ever. Now was his chance; yet -he had not taken a step before he halted. A circle of light had appeared -at the window. He waited, holding his breath. There was a rasp<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_294" id="page_294">{294}</a></span>ing -sound, and the casement opened. He saw the dark bulk of a figure wriggle -through. A long pause, in which the newcomer was invisible, then the -circle of light appeared again. This time on the safe.</p> - -<p>A burglar! His first impulse was to leap at the man and grapple with -him. His second was to approach with less commotion....</p> - -<p>“Hands up, or I’ll fire!”</p> - -<p>At the first sibilant of the words, the light went out, and then:</p> - -<p>“Don’t shoot, guv’nor. It’s a cop!”</p> - -<p>“Don’t shout, you fool!” hissed Gordon. “There’s a man sleeping in the -room—where’s your gun?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t carry a gun.”</p> - -<p>“What are you doing here?”</p> - -<p>The unknown burglar’s impatient click of lips was certainly called for.</p> - -<p>“Don’t ask silly questions—I said it was a cop, didn’t I?”</p> - -<p>Gordon groped for the flash-lamp and turned it full on the man’s face.</p> - -<p>“I know you,” he said immediately.</p> - -<p>The thin lips parted in a grin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_295" id="page_295">{295}</a></span></p> - -<p>“You ’ave the advantage of me,” he said with mordant humour.</p> - -<p>“You are the man who was cleaning the windows yesterday morning?”</p> - -<p>The burglar nodded.</p> - -<p>“Got me first time. Stark’s my name—I’m not giving any trouble, and if -you tell the judge I had a gun you’re a liar.”</p> - -<p>He raised his voice a little. Gordon glanced round fearfully, but the -detective was snoring again.</p> - -<p>“Ssh! Not so loud. Have you opened the safe?”</p> - -<p>The idea came to him at that second: a brain flash of singular -brilliance.</p> - -<p>“I should have done if you’d been a minute later,” said Stark -plaintively. “You’ve spoilt a good night’s work.”</p> - -<p>Gordon nodded.</p> - -<p>“Open it,” he said, and Stark could not believe his ears.</p> - -<p>“What!”</p> - -<p>“Open it. I’ll pay you well—and I’ll give you your liberty. You’ll only -have to work on one lock—the combination is ‘Telma’—got that?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_296" id="page_296">{296}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean it, guv’nor?” incredulity dominant.</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes. I lost my key,” replied Gordon. “Now get to work—can you -manage without the lights?”</p> - -<p>The other grinned in the darkness.</p> - -<p>“Sure. Only amatchoors want a lot of light. A flash is best—and -brightest.”</p> - -<p>He produced from under his coat a short jemmy and a longer and thinner -instrument. He may have been, and was, a poor window-cleaner. As burglar -he belonged to the aristocracy.</p> - -<p>“Ever seen a safe opened before?” he asked over his shoulder.</p> - -<p>Gordon shook his head.</p> - -<p>“No—not this way,” he admitted.</p> - -<p>“Takes years to learn and there’s not much money in it,” said Mr. Stark -sadly. “Spoilt by foreigners this trade is, ruined by competition and -outsiders, like everything else. Americans mostly. Why they don’t keep -in their own country I don’t know. Very smart fellows—I’ll say that, -though they’re taking the bread out of our mouths; but we’ve got as good -men if they only had a bit of encouragement and capital behind ’em.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_297" id="page_297">{297}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>The door swung out.</p> - -<p>“There you are, sir!”</p> - -<p>Gordon peered over the man’s shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Open?” he asked, in a tone which combined surprise and annoyance. The -man who sold him the safe was indeed a teller of untrue stories.</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Show the light. Here it is. Moses! there’s not ten thousand there!”</p> - -<p>He grasped what there was, and raised his head to listen—somebody was -coming down the stairs.</p> - -<p>“Now go quick—there’s somebody coming. Here, take this!”</p> - -<p>He thrust a bill into the burglar’s hand. In a second Stark was through -the window. Gordon was following, when a quivering voice from the sofa -called:</p> - -<p>“Who’s there——?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Selsbury did not wait to explain. As the detective, with surprising -courage, ran toward him, Gordon jumped from the window.</p> - -<p>“Stop!”</p> - -<p>It was another voice—Dempsi! Gordon dropped to the courtyard as the -other fired.</p> - -<p>“Bang—bang!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_298" id="page_298">{298}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Twice he shot, and there was a scream of pain. Diana heard it, and -sprang from bed. Drawing her wrap about her as she ran, she flew down -the stairs and into The Study. In the centre of the room stood Dempsi, -and at his feet a figure—the wriggling figure of Julius Superbus.</p> - -<p>“He has paid the price of duty,” said Dempsi.</p> - -<p>And so it proved. Ten little toes had Mr. Superbus brought to 61 Cheynel -Gardens. One would never go forth again attached to his patrician feet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_299" id="page_299">{299}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Summing</span> up the matter, as she did in a night made busy with the comings -and goings of doctors, and vocal with the low-voiced agony of Mr. -Superbus, Diana was glad that the man had escaped. She was sorry, -extremely sorry about the Julian toe—a small toe by all accounts, and -not especially valuable or wholly necessary to his complete enjoyment of -life—still, it was his, and had been (as he explained between -paroxysms) a close companion throughout his chequered life. He recounted -stories about it, half fond, half wistful. Once he had dropped a hammer -on it and had cursed it for being in the way. He regretted that now. It -had been a gentle, easy-going toe, and had never given him trouble. -Other toes had developed callosities that were painful; but this child -of his heart amongst the pedal appendages had never given him a moment’s -unease.</p> - -<p>Yes, she was rather sorry, even though the doctor said he was in no pain -and (not knowing the fearless character of the man) had given an<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_300" id="page_300">{300}</a></span> -opinion that Julius was more frightened than hurt. But she was glad -Double Dan had gone ... ever so glad.</p> - -<p>And the shooting had produced one most desirable result—Dempsi had been -completely subdued ever since. Not once had he described her as his -angel or his serene vision. He who had searched the heavens and starry -spaces thereof for illustrations of her beauty, her charm and her -numerous attractions, was satisfied with the most commonplace -terminology.</p> - -<p>“The fact is,” said Bobbie, “the poor Wop has never used an automatic -before, and the darn thing went off before he realised he had touched -the trigger.”</p> - -<p>“Poor Wop!” Diana’s nose went up. “Poor Mr. Superbus rather!”</p> - -<p>This was so long after breakfast that Bobbie had had time to make a call -at Diana’s bank, and Mr. Dempsi was a notable absentee.</p> - -<p>“How did you sleep?” he asked sympathetically.</p> - -<p>“Terribly! Bobbie, did you get the money?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, by great good luck your credits came through on Saturday. I have -the money. The manager was full of apologies on behalf of self and bank. -Here it is.” He produced from his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_301" id="page_301">{301}</a></span> hip pocket a thick wad of bills. “In -American money. By some strange accident it is clean.”</p> - -<p>She was thoughtful, biting her lip.</p> - -<p>“I had a wire from Gordon. He has reached Inverness,” she mentioned.</p> - -<p>“I’m sure he has,” said Bobbie drily. “And how is the old K Bus?”</p> - -<p>“Poor old fellow!” she laughed quietly. “I think he’s almost reconciled -to his very great loss. I shouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t develop -into a war-hero, but for the moment he’s worrying what his good lady -will say about the lost toe. From what he says I gather that she counts -them every night.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie grinned at the fire. There seemed something inexpressibly comic -about a man losing a toe.</p> - -<p>“Nothing has been heard of Double Dan?” he asked, and she shook her -head.</p> - -<p>“No, he seems to have disappeared. We know by the marks on the brickwork -that he climbed the wall, and according to Mr. Superbus, he had a -companion. In one way I’m glad he’s gone.”</p> - -<p>Bobbie looked at the girl in astonishment.</p> - -<p>“Glad?” he said. “Good lord, why?”</p> - -<p>“For the poor girl’s sake.” Diana’s face was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_302" id="page_302">{302}</a></span> saddened. “You don’t know -what she’s suffered at his hands, Bobbie. There’s a whole lot of good in -Heloise. Of course she feels his going. That’s the curse of it—a woman -never loses hope.”</p> - -<p>“He must have got away pretty quickly,” said Bobbie. “I was down -immediately after Dempsi, and though I searched the house and the -courtyard at once, there was no sign of the devil.”</p> - -<p>She made a little gesture of distaste.</p> - -<p>“Don’t let us talk about him,” she said briefly and went on to talk of -Dempsi.</p> - -<p>“He has been simply splendid. Really I have had a pleasant shock: the -only one of that variety he has ever given me. I shouldn’t have thought -that a man of his excitable temperament could have taken the matter so -calmly. But he is subdued. A little nervous, I think, about the -shooting. He was very anxious to know if I had informed the police, but -of course I hadn’t—so far as Mr. Superbus’ toe was concerned. He’s -going to-day.”</p> - -<p>“Not Dempsi?”</p> - -<p>She nodded.</p> - -<p>“He says he’ll wait for me for a thousand years,” she sighed. “I told -him a hundred would<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_303" id="page_303">{303}</a></span> be long enough—heigho! He hasn’t spoken otherwise -about marriage all the morning. I almost like him for it.”</p> - -<p>The subject of conversation strolled into the room a few minutes later. -He was looking haggard, Bobbie thought, and remarkably unattractive.</p> - -<p>“Good morning, Mr. Selsbury—you have not seen Aunt Lizzie? I wished to -condole with her. It is terrible when lovers are parted—but how -terrible for you! Double Dan, you say? It makes my flesh creep. -Yet”—his admiring eyes beamed upon his hostess—“yet our little Diana -did not fear! Ah, that was most wonderful. But tell me—who is Aunt -Lizzie?”</p> - -<p>“A friend of mine,” said Diana shortly.</p> - -<p>Dempsi shook his head in sorrow.</p> - -<p>“I shall never forgive myself for shooting Superbus—in the toe,” he -said in a tone of bitter regret.</p> - -<p>Bobbie laughed.</p> - -<p>“You sound as though you’d like to have shot him through the head,” he -said, and Mr. Dempsi recoiled before the bloodthirsty suggestion.</p> - -<p>“I? Heaven forbid! I admire Superbus. He is to me most admirable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_304" id="page_304">{304}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“He shouldn’t have slept,” said Diana. “He promised me that if he did -fall off, he would have one eye open. Those were his words. I don’t know -how he would manage, but he was so confident that I didn’t come down to -look.”</p> - -<p>She ran to the door. The tap, tap of a stick on the parquet floor of the -hall announced the coming of the invalid, his right foot a picturesque -cushion of white bandages. There was a crutch under one arm, and he -heaved himself forward in jerks. To Diana he accorded a wan smile. -Bobbie took one arm, Mr. Dempsi the other. They reached the sofa to the -accompaniment of many grunts and “ughs.”</p> - -<p>“You are feeling better, Mr. Superbus?”</p> - -<p>He shook his head, being unwilling at this early stage to dispense with -the anxiety, the care and the apprehension that was his due.</p> - -<p>“Middling, ma’am, middling. Naturally, I’m a little bit shook up. I -always get that way when I figure in a shooting affray—if I may use the -term—and I’ve been in a few in my time. I’ll tell you about them one -day, miss. But this, in a way, is the worst, and I admit I don’t feel up -to the mark. What my good lady will say when she finds I’ve lost a -toe<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_305" id="page_305">{305}</a></span>——”</p> - -<p>He shook his head mournfully. Diana tried to cheer him.</p> - -<p>“I’m sure she won’t make a fuss, Mr. Superbus. Women are very brave in -such moments of trial. And a toe more or less isn’t essential to married -happiness.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus wasn’t so sure, being at that moment in his most -sentimental mood. His eyes were moist.</p> - -<p>“It’s a dreadful thing to think, ma’am,” he said, his lip a-tremble, -“that only yesterday that little toe of mine was alive and well; -to-day—where is it?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Dempsi covered his eyes with his long, thin hand.</p> - -<p>“And I did it,” he said, his bosom heaving.</p> - -<p>“Don’t take on so, sir”—Julius had the air of a Christian martyr -excusing the lions. “Why, it might have happened to any gentleman. I -wish you’d shot him—or her.”</p> - -<p>Diana’s eyes narrowed.</p> - -<p>“Or her?” she repeated. “What makes you say that? Was the other person a -woman?”</p> - -<p>“It might have been.” Julius was not prepared to be more explicit. In -truth, he wasn’t particularly sure himself, but being gifted by nature<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_306" id="page_306">{306}</a></span> -with the mystery novelist’s successful trick of passing on suspicion to -the most unlikely quarters, he suggested a woman accomplice, if only to -be the only person in the room who knew the truth. Which was that the -second person was a man and used expressions that no lady could possibly -employ.</p> - -<p>“Whether it is one or the other I am unable to make a statement at -present,” he said sombrely. “That will come out at the trial.”</p> - -<p>“What really happened?” Bobbie put the question. He had still only a -disjoined idea of what had occurred in the dark.</p> - -<p>Julius fumbled in his pocket and found a massive notebook, opened it -deliberately, and, after much searching, found the page he sought.</p> - -<p>“At two <small>A.M.</small> on or about the fifteenth inst.,” he said sonorously and -with complete relish, “I was aroused from my slumbers by an uneasy -apprehension that trouble was abroad, viz: burglars or other bad -characters. I proceeded at once to rise from my bed, which was -twenty-five feet six inches from the window (I got Aunt Lizzie to -measure it)” he explained in parenthesis. “The Study was in darkness, -but I saw the figure of a man. As I darted forward to arrest him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_307" id="page_307">{307}</a></span> there -arose, seemingly from my feet, a person or persons unknown. Realising -that danger threatened, I immediately grappled with them—I suppose you -heard the sign of a struggle?” he asked anxiously.</p> - -<p>Diana had heard nothing. Bobbie shook his head.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t, but I wasn’t near enough,” he explained.</p> - -<p>Mr. Dempsi, his hand behind him, his bearded chin on his waistcoat, did -not look up.</p> - -<p>“Suddenly,” resumed Superbus, “there was a shot and I knew no more.”</p> - -<p>“But you say it might have been a woman?” Diana was not inclined to lose -sight of that point.</p> - -<p>“It might have been a man or a woman,” said Julius. “That will come out -when I tell the secret story, so to speak. For the present I will -describe it as a person or persons unknown. I don’t mind admitting,” he -added, “that they was strangers to me, and I never want to see ’em -again. Where’s Uncle Isaac? I haven’t seen him this morning.”</p> - -<p>“But when you grappled, Mr. Superbus, you surely knew whether it was a -man or a woman?” insisted Diana.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_308" id="page_308">{308}</a></span></p> - -<p>Julius inclined his head.</p> - -<p>“Speaking as a married man,” he said discreetly, “I ought to know.”</p> - -<p>“But you ‘grappled’?”</p> - -<p>“In a sense,” said Mr. Superbus, “only in a sense. When a man grapples -with—with—a problem, does he catch it by the ear, or punch it under -the jaw? No, ma’am. When I say grappled, I’m speaking in a general way.”</p> - -<p>“But you saw——”</p> - -<p>Here Julius was on safer ground.</p> - -<p>“Well, it looked like a man.... I’ll tell you the truth, it looked like -Uncle Isaac. Don’t imagine for one second that it <i>was</i> Uncle Isaac,” he -warned them. “I cast no aspersions. He got through the door before I -could properly see him.”</p> - -<p>“You must have been mistaken, Mr. Superbus,” said Diana.</p> - -<p>“I saw it slip past me and out of that door.” Julius pointed.</p> - -<p>“You were mistaken,” said Diana. “The man went out of the window and -from the window into the courtyard. And then over the wall. The window -was found open.”</p> - -<p>But Julius was really not interested in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_309" id="page_309">{309}</a></span> escaping criminal. On the -other hand, he was very much interested in his own emotions. For once he -felt that the eyes of the world were on him.</p> - -<p>“As I lay there,” he said, “the whole of my life flitted before me. I -saw my old school and the schoolmaster waiting for me at the door with -his cane behind his back. I saw the public-house what I used to use as a -young man, and where I met my good lady, owing to taking her father home -one night and helping the family to put him to bed——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes,” interrupted Bobbie, a little unkindly, “it must have been a -dreadful experience. Now tell us how you came to be asleep whilst these -people were breaking open the safe?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Superbus raised his eyebrows and shut his eyes.</p> - -<p>“Drugs,” he said. “The coffee must have been drugged last night. I’m a -light sleeper. The slightest noise and I’m awake!”</p> - -<p>Bobbie nodded.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you <i>did</i> hear the pistol then?” he said.</p> - -<p>Diana thought his remark somewhat offensive.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_310" id="page_310">{310}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">With</span> the remark that he had to go to his good lady or his good lady -would have to come to him, Julius had taken his departure in a motor -ambulance. He could as well have gone by taxi, but he expressed a -preference for an ambulance. “One with a red cross,” he suggested. Diana -had ’phoned a garage, and Julius Superbus made his exit dramatically, -covered with blankets, flat on a stretcher, and smiling the smile of one -who was not long for this world but wasn’t afraid to go.</p> - -<p>“And what my missus will say when I come home short, I shudder to -think,” he said pathetically. “I don’t know: the only satisfaction I’ve -got is that it was done on dooty.”</p> - -<p>This significantly. When he had gone, Diana asked:</p> - -<p>“What is a toe worth, Bobbie? I must send the poor dear something. Would -two hundred pounds be too little?”</p> - -<p>“It was a little toe,” said Bobbie thoughtfully; “a big toe would have -cost you more. Try him with two hundred.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_311" id="page_311">{311}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Diana wrote at once.</p> - -<p>She felt in excellent humour despite the empty safe with its hanging -door; despite the shadow of tragedy which had impinged upon the house. -Eleanor and the cook had made an early return. She had told them to stay -away until Tuesday. They had argued (so they said) as to whether she had -said Monday or Tuesday, and, to be on the safe side, had returned on the -earlier day. Cook’s triumph (she had supported the Tuesday view) was -tempered by the chagrin of a lost twenty-four hours of well-paid -idleness.</p> - -<p>Heloise, from an upper window, saw the detective take his ceremonious -departure. She had reason to be glad that Dempsi’s shots had done no -greater mischief. She had been noticeably nervous all that morning, -starting at every sound. Once Diana had found her hiding—there was no -other word for it—in the little book-room and, detected, she had been -so frightened and confused that Diana for a second was puzzled, till she -remembered that the abrupt departure of Double Dan must have shocked the -poor girl beyond understanding.</p> - -<p>Diana had finished her letter when Heloise came aimlessly into the room -and looked round.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_312" id="page_312">{312}</a></span> Dempsi was sitting on the sofa, his face in his -hands, looking moodily into the fire. Bobbie was in his own room, -engaged in some mysterious business of his own (he was writing frantic -telegrams to Gordon, imploring him to return; these he addressed to -every hotel in Paris where he was likely to be found).</p> - -<p>Diana looked up with a smile, blotted the envelope and fixed a stamp.</p> - -<p>“You must talk with Aunt—with Helosie—and amuse her,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Huh?” Dempsi broke off his meditations with a start.</p> - -<p>“You have met Heloise?”</p> - -<p>So many unlikely things had happened in the past forty-eight hours that -it was quite possible she had omitted an introduction. She would not -have been surprised if Dempsi denied having ever met Aunt Lizzie.</p> - -<p>“Oh yes, we have met,” he said awkwardly. “Did the shot waken you? I owe -you ten thousand apologies if it did.”</p> - -<p>She shook her head sadly.</p> - -<p>“No, no. My mind was too full of—something else. Something that I -cannot explain. Uncle—Uncle Isaac has really gone?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_313" id="page_313">{313}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>Diana nodded.</p> - -<p>“Gone! Out of my life! It doesn’t seem possible.”</p> - -<p>Dempsi was vaguely interested, fixing her with a blank look; he also was -thinking of something else.</p> - -<p>“Dear lady, you seem very sad,” he said mildly.</p> - -<p>Her tragic eyes moved till they rested on his.</p> - -<p>“Sad! When I think of my old home and my dear father in Michigan——”</p> - -<p>“I thought you said Connecticut,” interrupted Diana.</p> - -<p>Heloise was a quick thinker.</p> - -<p>“Mother lives there,” she said gently. “Poppa is in Michigan. They’re -living apart.”</p> - -<p>“I see,” said Diana helpfully, “happily separated. Most of one’s friends -are. It is so convenient for everybody—it simply means if you keep on -good terms with both, that you double the number of your friends. You -must feel rather nice about returning to America—having two homes that -will welcome you.”</p> - -<p>Heloise looked hard at the girl. She was never quite sure whether she -was being very serious or<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_314" id="page_314">{314}</a></span> very sarcastic. Other people disliked Diana -for the same reason.</p> - -<p>“So you’re going home?” Dempsi roused himself to take a benevolent -interest in Aunt Lizzie.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’m going back to a new life, thanks to Miss Ford,” she said -quietly. “Some day this life will seem like a bad dream; I shall forget -everything, except those who have robbed me of that which was dearer -than life itself.”</p> - -<p>The embarrassed Diana made her escape.</p> - -<p>“You go to America?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“It is a beautiful country. A wonderful country!” mused Dempsi.</p> - -<p>The click of the door as Diana disappeared brought him to his feet, and -his expression had undergone a remarkable change. He looked down at -Heloise keenly, as he rasped:</p> - -<p>“Now, where is that money?”</p> - -<p>Heloise glanced at the door, looked over her shoulder: the room was -empty.</p> - -<p>“You know where it is, Sally!” he said harshly. “Now come across!”</p> - -<p>She was not sad any more; on the contrary, she was on the verge of fury. -Hands on hips, she faced him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_315" id="page_315">{315}</a></span></p> - -<p>“Say, Dan, you’re the cleverest thing in male impersonators I know,” she -said shrilly. “I guess I wouldn’t be surprised to see you come into this -room disguised as a performing flea. But the innocent child is outside -your repertoire. You wouldn’t last three bars as Little Eva. Who took -the money? You cheap skate! You’re not going to put that over on me! You -took the money. You took it, and helped that poor fool make a getaway at -the same time. I guess you were working on the safe when he came in.”</p> - -<p>“You lie!” He was beside himself with wrath. “I came in after you’d got -it out. I didn’t mean to shoot—I guess that was the maddest thing I -ever did. But I saw this guy getting through the window, and I guessed -what happened. He gave you the money to let him escape!”</p> - -<p>She showed her white teeth in a grimace of fury.</p> - -<p>“You mean I’ve got it right now? In my pocket?”</p> - -<p>“Sure I mean that,” he said doggedly.</p> - -<p>She heaved up a long, impatient sigh.</p> - -<p>“You’re going to hear from my husband’s lawyers! That’s what! And right -here and now<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_316" id="page_316">{316}</a></span> I’m telling you sump’n, you four-flushin’ dog! You took -the money, and shot that poor boob when he came in to see who it was -breaking the tin! What were you doing in the room all dressed up ready -to jump the first train out of London—and leave me flat? You sneak! -Haven’t I worked hard for you? Haven’t I sat for hours making an -exhibition of my darned ego for that soul-lizard? Didn’t I get out of -him the story of Diana, and give you the script and band parts and light -cues? Didn’t I pump him till there was noth’n’ left but the squeak and -the handle? And—do—you—dare—to turn me down?”</p> - -<p>He dared nothing. Her victory was complete when he began to make -excuses.</p> - -<p>“There was fifty thousand dollars in that safe. All I’ve got is a -crossed cheque that’s as useful as confetti at a funeral. It will take -two days to clear: Selsbury will be back to-night.”</p> - -<p>“Fifty thousand dollars!” she sneered. “You told me nothing about that. -Maybe you forgot it? You said there wasn’t a thousand pounds in the job. -Didn’t you? You said you’d be glad if you got back expenses. Am I lying? -And what’s that cheque anyway? Money she owed Dempsi? Great snakes—the -money Dempsi<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_317" id="page_317">{317}</a></span> threw at her! I told you that, and I’d forgotten it!”</p> - -<p>She ran her fingers through her hair. Her smile was fixed and -terrifying. The smile of the Medusas was jocund by comparison.</p> - -<p>“I forgot about it until I got a note from her enclosing the money,” he -protested. “Why, when that cheque came along, you could have blown me -down. It was then I saw big money in the proposition and decided to go -after the rest of the stuff. It looked easy to me.”</p> - -<p>Impolite scepticism showed in her eye, and his injured air only -intensified her suspicions.</p> - -<p>“Now, Dan, you’re a wonderful teller of tales and I guess if I were a -bit younger I’d fall for it!” she said practically. “But you’re going to -be a good little boy and ’fess up to Auntie that you took that money, -and then you’ll say ‘Auntie, we’ll split it fifty-fifty.’ And if you -don’t, Dan, why, it’s ‘Good morning, judge’ for yours!”</p> - -<p>He tried blandishment.</p> - -<p>“Honest, now, Sally, you’ve got it,” he said genially. “Let’s get right -down to cases and——”</p> - -<p>“Would I be here doing this act and allowing my emotions to destroy my -beauty if I had it?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_318" id="page_318">{318}</a></span> Shouldn’t I be stepping on it? Would you be -exchanging persiflage with anything but the dust of my trail?”</p> - -<p>This point appeared logical.</p> - -<p>“That’s true,” he said. “Then who opened the safe—not Selsbury?”</p> - -<p>“You did,” she nodded, and he went purple.</p> - -<p>“Curse you! I told you I didn’t take it....”</p> - -<p>The door handle turned. Without looking round they knew it was Diana. -She had omitted to enclose a cheque in her letter, she remarked at -large, but they were too absorbed in their talk to heed her.</p> - -<p>“I just love the country,” sighed Heloise. “To hear the old blue jays -singing and watch the clouds coming up over the hill and feel the breeze -in your face—why, there’s nothing quite like it, Mr. Dempsi.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve never seen you two talking before,” said Diana with a smile. Which -was true.</p> - -<p>In a few seconds she was gone....</p> - -<p>“Now see here, Sally, we haven’t time to act foolishly over this -business. The stuff was taken, maybe by that guy Selsbury. What did you -come here for, anyway?” It was a question that he had been seeking an -opportunity to ask.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_319" id="page_319">{319}</a></span></p> - -<p>“I came here when I found you were trying to work the job as a one-man -performance. I know you, Dan; you’ve got a mighty bad reputation amongst -honest crooks.”</p> - -<p>He laughed without merriment.</p> - -<p>“I’m trying to live it down. Where has he gone—did he tell you he was -leaving?”</p> - -<p>“No; we’d given up confidences before he left. You said he would come -back. I’ve got it in my bones that you’re right. I guess he got it.”</p> - -<p>“But he couldn’t have worked a job like this single-handed,” said the -other. “Why, your husband couldn’t have opened that safe more -scientifically....”</p> - -<p>She was not willing to be turned by gross flattery.</p> - -<p>“Cut out the small talk and get right down to the grand facts of life,” -she said briskly. “Did I find Selsbury and affinitize him or did I not? -Did I....”</p> - -<p>He snarled at her like an angry mongrel.</p> - -<p>“<span class="lftspc">‘</span>Did I, didn’t I’—great Moses! Do I want all that stuff? Why did you -allow him to come back here?”</p> - -<p>“Let him come back?” she said scornfully. “I made him come back! When I -got him into the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_320" id="page_320">{320}</a></span> house, I had him like that. I knew how you’d turn up. -I knew there was money here, and I was going to stay with it. It’s a -funny thing about me that, of all the affinities I’ve met, noth’n’ is -quite so close as money. Noth’n’ understands me better or talks more -like Governor George Demosthenes.”</p> - -<p>The man was finished. He too was a philosopher.</p> - -<p>“Well, there’s no help for it,” he said with a groan that he could not -suppress. “We’ll have to share. The old terms, mind—none of your -fifty-fifty stuff. Seventy-thirty.”</p> - -<p>“Seventy-thirty! Well, I admire cold blood! It’s fifty-fifty or nothing -with me, Dan. But there ain’t anything to share.”</p> - -<p>Here he corrected her.</p> - -<p>“She’s paying up. I’ve given her back the cheque. If you wait -half-an-hour she’ll have it cashed. Now are you satisfied? Sixty-forty?”</p> - -<p>“Fifty-fifty!” said Heloise firmly. “You’d never forgive yourself if you -gave me less.”</p> - -<p>They wrangled for ten minutes; in the end Heloise gained a victory for -principle.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_321" id="page_321">{321}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Eleanor</span> came furtively in search of her mistress and found her in -Gordon’s room, valiantly overhauling his wardrobe.</p> - -<p>“The clergyman, miss,” she said, with an air of mystery that was -natural.</p> - -<p>The well-trained servant has an air appropriate to the calling of every -visitor. Dread and a funereal solemnity for doctors, a primness for -elderly ladies, a suppressed blitheness to announce the young, mystery -for the clergy; only a lawyer baffles interpretation. The secret -dispositions of lawyers have never been probed.</p> - -<p>“The clergyman!” Diana’s heart fell.</p> - -<p>“A priest, ma’am, by his clothes,” said Eleanor.</p> - -<p>She was a Primitive Methodist and was secretly thrilled by priests and -nuns.</p> - -<p>Not before had Diana considered Mr. Dempsi’s sectarian leanings. Nor had -she before had sufficient confidence to meet the man whom she guessed -had been sent by Dempsi to arrange the details of her servitude.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_322" id="page_322">{322}</a></span></p> - -<p>“I will come down,” she said, and took the card from Eleanor’s hand.</p> - -<p>She read the few printed words carefully, then she read them again and -passed her hand over her eyes.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Father Guiseppi Dempsi, Vicar of Banhurst.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>“Father Guiseppi Dempsi!” she said aloud, and in another second was -flying down the stairs.</p> - -<p>She recognised him instantly, clean-shaven, dark, the old grin in his -brown eyes. She would have known him even had he not been wearing his -black cassock.</p> - -<p>“Diana!” he said. “After all these years!”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Dempsi,” she grasped, gripping the thin hand outstretched, “it <i>is</i> -you! You don’t know how glad I am to see you!”</p> - -<p>Dempsi, the real Dempsi! Then who was the other? The solution of the -mystery came to her in a flash, and in the realisation the whole weight -of the universe was lifted from her heart.</p> - -<p>“Father Dempsi!” she said, in a wondering way, still holding his hand. -“It doesn’t seem possible!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_323" id="page_323">{323}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>“I was rather a fool, wasn’t I?” he said without any trace of -embarrassment. “Yes, I went into the Church. But I should have let you -know.”</p> - -<p>“The money!” she said, suddenly. “The money you gave me—you will want -that?”</p> - -<p>He laughed a little sheepishly.</p> - -<p>“I wondered if any was left. Honestly, I need money just now. My boys’ -club is insolvent and the new church hall wants an organ....”</p> - -<p>She nodded. She was still bewildered. Almost hysterical. And then came -an excited Bobbie with a rush, flinging open the door.</p> - -<p>“Diana!” he began.</p> - -<p>Behind him stood Gordon. A somewhat severely clad Gordon, yet different. -She ran to him—before she realised what happened, she had kissed him. -Gordon returned the kiss without any visible effort.</p> - -<p>“Gordon, do you know the Reverend Guiseppi Dempsi? You’ve heard me talk -about Mr. Dempsi?”</p> - -<p>Gordon stared at the priest open-mouthed.</p> - -<p>“The Reverend Guiseppi Dempsi?” he said. “I thought—er——” He grasped -the hand of<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_324" id="page_324">{324}</a></span> the smiling clergyman. “I knew it couldn’t be that little -... how do you do?”</p> - -<p>“Diana and I are very old acquaintances—old friends, I ought to say,” -said Dempsi, beaming from one to the other. “Old lovers, I nearly said, -but the love was a little one-sided.” He chuckled.</p> - -<p>“Extraordinary!” Gordon could say no more.</p> - -<p>“But, Gordon, how is it you’re back? I had a wire this morning from -Inverness. You couldn’t have got back——”</p> - -<p>“By aeroplane,” said Gordon without a blush. “I had a feeling that all -was not well with you.”</p> - -<p>“Gordon, did you really?” Her colour came and went. “You are psychic, -aren’t you? And Gordon, dear, you’ve had your whiskers shaved!”</p> - -<p>He nodded gravely.</p> - -<p>“I meant to tell you I intended doing that—you once said that you did -not like them. No more than that was necessary. They vanished in the -twinkling of an eye.”</p> - -<p>It was Gordon’s moment. He was colossal.</p> - -<p>Eleanor opened the front door to a gentleman who was difficult to place.</p> - -<p>“Miss Ford at home?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, but she’s engaged.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_325" id="page_325">{325}</a></span>”</p> - -<p>The stranger had no visiting-card apparently, for he announced himself.</p> - -<p>“I am Inspector Carslake from Scotland Yard,” he said. “I should like to -see the safe that was opened last night. It isn’t necessary to disturb -Miss Ford.”</p> - -<p>Eleanor, in a flutter, opened the door wider and showed him into The -Study.</p> - -<p>“...leave by the first train,” Mr. Dempsi was saying. “We’ll split -later.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll split before we part,” said Heloise firmly, “for fear an accident -happens—to the money.”</p> - -<p>The other shrugged.</p> - -<p>“I’d hate to have a mind like yours,” he said.</p> - -<p>And then the visitor came in. Heloise recognised him before he saw her -face. There was a newspaper within reach, and she snatched it up, -disappeared behind the printed page, and, reading, walked slowly from -The Study into the little library.</p> - -<p>“Don’t go,” said Dempsi.</p> - -<p>Then he too saw the detective, and here the recognition was mutual.</p> - -<p>“The cobwebs on your chin are strangers to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_326" id="page_326">{326}</a></span> me,” said Carslake, “but -that noble brow and those sparkling eyes belong to an old friend of -mine, Dan Throgood, yclept Double Dan.”</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake,” said “Dempsi” with some hauteur.</p> - -<p>“What you’re afraid of is that I haven’t,” said Carslake, and glanced at -the broken door of the safe. “Your work?”</p> - -<p>“No. That’s not my line. You’ve nothing on me, Carslake. I’ve been -staying here as a guest of Mr. Selsbury.”</p> - -<p>“And now you’re going to be a guest of the King,” said Carslake, -slipping a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. “I must say, Dan, that you -see life!”</p> - -<p>It was later in the day, and from information received, that the -inspector called at 61 Cheynel Gardens to arrest and detain one Sarah -Chowster, British subject <i>alias</i> Heloise van Oynne. But Heloise had -gone. None knew whither.</p> - -<p>“Can I see Miss Ford,” he asked, “or Mr. Selsbury?”</p> - -<p>Eleanor asked him to wait, and, passing into The Study, listened -intently at the door.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_327" id="page_327">{327}</a></span></p> -<p>“...I really was going back to Australia, Gordon.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll follow you, and if necessary lose myself in the bush,” said -Gordon’s voice.</p> - -<p>There was a long silence. Eleanor opened the door an inch and looked. -Then she went back to the detective.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Selsbury and Miss Ford are engaged,” she said.</p> - -<p class="fint">THE END</p> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIANA OF KARA-KARA ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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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