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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/77788-0.txt b/77788-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6299173 --- /dev/null +++ b/77788-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11636 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77788 *** + + + + + THE EYES OF MAX CARRADOS + + ERNEST BRAMAH + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + _By the Same Author_ + + THE WALLET OF KAI LUNG + KAI LUNG’S GOLDEN HOURS + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + THE EYES OF + MAX CARRADOS + + + BY + ERNEST BRAMAH + + + + + NEW [GHD] YORK + GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1924, + BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + + [GHD] + + + + + THE EYES OF MAX CARRADOS + --A-- + PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + CONTENTS + + PAGE + INTRODUCTION vii + + CHAPTER + I THE VIRGINIOLA FRAUD 33 + + II THE DISAPPEARANCE OF MARIE SEVERE 66 + + III THE SECRET OF DUNSTAN’S TOWER 106 + + IV THE MYSTERY OF THE POISONED DISH OF MUSHROOMS 138 + + V THE GHOST AT MASSINGHAM MANSIONS 179 + + VI THE MISSING ACTRESS SENSATION 215 + + VII THE INGENIOUS MR SPINOLA 250 + + VIII THE KINGSMOUTH SPY CASE 284 + + IX THE EASTERN MYSTERY 321 + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + INTRODUCTION + + +In offering a series of stories which continue the adventures of a group +of characters already introduced to the reading public, a writer is +inevitably at a certain disadvantage. In contriving their first +appearance he has been able to select both the occasion and the moment +which lend themselves most effectively to his plan. He has begun at the +beginning--or, at least, at what, so far as you and he and the tale he +has to tell are concerned, must be accepted as the beginning. +Buttonholing you at the intersection of these three lines of destiny he +has, in effect, exclaimed: My dear Reader! the very man I wished to see. +I want to introduce rather a remarkable character to you--Max Carrados, +whom you see approaching. You will notice that he is blind--quite blind; +but so far from that crippling his interests in life or his energies, it +has merely impelled him to develop those senses which in most of us lie +half dormant and practically unused. Thus you will understand that while +he may be at a disadvantage when you are at an advantage, he is at an +advantage when you are at a disadvantage. The alert, slightly spoffish +gentleman with the knowing look, who accompanies him, is his friend +Carlyle. He has a private inquiry business now; formerly he was a +solicitor, but ... (here the voice becomes discreetly inaudible) ... and +having run up across Carrados again.... And so on. + +This is well enough once, but it should not be repeated. One cannot +begin at the beginning twice. In any case, it does not dispose of an +obvious dilemma: those among prospective readers who are acquainted with +the first book do not need to be informed of the how, when and wherefore +of Carrados and his associates; those who are not so acquainted +(possibly even a larger class) do need to be informed, and may resent +the omission. In the circumstances a word of explanation where it can +conveniently be avoided seems to offer the least harmful course. + +_Max Carrados_ was published in the spring of 1914. It consisted of +eight tales, each separate and complete in itself, but connected (as are +the nine of the present volume) by the central figure of Carrados. The +first story, “The Coin of Dionysius,” cleared the necessary ground. +Carlyle, a private inquiry agent, who has descended in the social scale +owing to an irregularity--an indiscretion rather than a crime--is very +desirous one evening of testing the genuineness of a certain rare and +valuable Sicilian tetradrachm, for upon its authenticity an immediate +arrest depends. It is too late at night for him to get in touch with +expert professional opinion, but finally he is referred to a certain +gifted amateur, a Mr Max Carrados, who lives at Richmond. To Richmond he +accordingly proceeds, and is at once recognized by Carrados as a former +friend, Calling by name. The recognition is not at first mutual, for +Carrados has also changed his name--he was formerly Max Wynn--in order +to qualify for a considerable fortune, and he, like Carlyle, has altered +in appearance with passing years. More to the point, he has become +blind: “Literally ... I was riding along a bridle-path through a wood +about a dozen years ago with a friend. He was in front. At one point a +twig sprang back--you know how easily a thing like that happens. It just +flicked my eye--nothing to think twice about.... It is called +amaurosis.” + +Carlyle fails to recognise Carrados because the latter is an altered +personality, with a different name, and living in unexpected +circumstances, but to the blind man the change in Carlyle is negligible +against the identity of a remembered voice. They talk of old times and +of present times. Carlyle explains his business, and Carrados confesses +that the idea of criminal investigation has always attracted him. Even +yet, he thinks, he might not be entirely out at it, for blindness has +unexpected compensations: “A new world to explore, new experiences, new +powers awakening; strange new perceptions; life in the fourth +dimension.” + +Not regarding the suggestion of co-operation seriously, Carlyle puts the +offer aside, but, later, Carrados returns to it again. Then the private +detective remembers the object of his visit, the meanwhile forgotten +coin, and to settle the matter, and to demonstrate to Carrados his +helplessness (for the idea of the blind man being an expert must, of +course, have been someone’s blunder), he slyly offers to put his friend +on the track of a mystery. “Yes,” he accordingly replied, with crisp +deliberation, as he recrossed the room; “yes, I will, Max. Here is the +clue to what seems to be a rather remarkable fraud.” He put the +tetradrachm into his host’s hand. “What do you make of it?” + +For a few seconds Carrados handled the piece with the delicate +manipulation of his finger-tips, while Carlyle looked on with a +self-appreciative grin. Then with equal gravity the blind man weighed +the coin in the balance of his hand. Finally he touched it with his +tongue. + +“Well?” demanded the other. + +“Of course I have not much to go on, and if I was more fully in your +confidence I might come to another conclusion----” + +“Yes, yes,” interposed Carlyle, with amused encouragement. + +“Then I should advise you to arrest the parlour-maid, Nina Brun, +communicate with the police authorities of Padua for particulars of the +career of Helene Brunesi, and suggest to Lord Seastoke that he should +return to London to see what further depredations have been made in his +cabinet.” + +Mr Carlyle’s groping hand sought and found a chair, on which he dropped +blankly. His eyes were unable to detach themselves for a single moment +from the very ordinary spectacle of Mr Carrados’s mildly benevolent +face, while the sterilised ghost of his now forgotten amusement still +lingered about his features. + +“Good heavens!” he managed to articulate, “how do you know?” + +“Isn’t that what you wanted of me?” asked Carrados suavely. + +“Don’t humbug, Max,” said Carlyle severely. “This is no joke.” An +undefined mistrust of his own powers suddenly possessed him in the +presence of this mystery. “How do you come to know of Nina Brun and Lord +Seastoke?” + +“You are a detective, Louis,” replied Carrados. “How does one know these +things?” + +The bottom having been thus knocked out of his objection, Carlyle has no +option but to promise Carrados the reversion of “the next murder” that +comes his way. Actually, it is a case involving thirty-five murders that +redeems this pledge. + +But in spite of every device of Carrados’s perspicuity there is still +the cardinal deficiency that he cannot _see_. Whatever remains outside +the range of four super-trained senses, aided by that subtle and elusive +perception (every man in odd moments has surprised his own mind in the +act of throwing out faint-spun and wholly forgotten tentacles of search +towards it) called in vague ignorance the “sixth sense”--all beyond +these must be for ever a _terra incognita_ to his knowledge. To remedy +this he has a personal attendant called Parkinson. Carlyle ingenuously +falls into a proposed test that Carrados suggests--his powers of +observation against those of Parkinson. When it comes to actual +specified details the visitor finds that he only has a loose and general +idea of the appearance of the man who has admitted him. On the other +hand, when Parkinson is called up he is able to run off a precise and +categorical description of Mr Carlyle--although his period of +observation had certainly not been the more favorable--from the size and +material of the caller’s boots, with a button missing from the left +foot, to the fashion and fabric of his watch-chain. A very ordinary man +of strictly limited ability, he has, in fact, trained this one faculty +of detailed observation and retention to supply his master’s need. + +These three men--Carrados, Carlyle and Parkinson--are the only +characters of any prominence who are carried over from the first book to +the second. An Inspector Beedel makes an occasional and unimportant +appearance in both. In the story called “The Mystery of the Poisoned +Dish of Mushrooms” a Mrs Bellmark (niece to Carlyle) will be met; she is +the lady whose acquaintance Carrados formed in “The Comedy at Fountain +Cottage,” when a very opportune buried treasure was unearthed in her +suburban garden. + + * * * * * + +Every generation not unnaturally “fancies itself,” and whatever is +happening is therefore somewhat more wonderful than anything that has +ever happened before. But for this present age there is, of course, a +special reason why the exploits of the sightless obtain prominence, and +why every inch won in the narrowing of the gulf between the seeing and +the blind is hailed almost with the satisfaction of a martial victory. +That the general condition of the blind is being raised, that they are, +in the mass, more capable and infinitely less dependent than at any +period of the past, is undeniable, and these things are plainly to the +good; but when we think that blind men individually do more surprising +feats and carry themselves more confidently in their blindness than has +ever been done before, we deceive ourselves, in the superficiality that +is common to the times. The higher capacity under blindness is a form of +genius and, like other kinds of genius, it is not the prerogative of any +century or of any system. Judged by this standard, Max Carrados is by no +means a super-blind-man, and although for convenience the qualities of +more than one blind prototype may have been collected within a single +frame, on the other hand literary licence must be judged to have its +limits, and many of the realities of fact have been deemed too +improbable to be transferred to fiction. Carrados’s opening exploit, +that of accurately deciding an antique coin to be a forgery, by the +sense of touch, is far from being unprecedented. + +The curious and the incredulous may be referred to a little book, first +published in 1820. This is entitled _Biography of the Blind, or the +Lives of such as have distinguished themselves as Poets, Philosophers, +Artists, &c._, and it is by JAMES WILSON, “Who has been Blind from his +Infancy.” From the authorities given (they are stated in every case), it +is obvious that these lives and anecdotes are available elsewhere, but +probably in no other single volume is so much that is informing and +entertaining on this one subject brought together. + +The coin incident finds its warrant in the biography of NICHOLAS +SAUNDERSON, LL.D., F.R.S., who was born in Yorkshire in the year 1682. +When about twelve months old he lost not only his sight but the eyes +themselves from an attack of small-pox. In 1707 he proceeded to +Cambridge, where he appears to have made some stir; at all events he was +given his M.A. in 1711 by a special process and immediately afterwards +elected Lucasian Professor of Mathematics. Of his lighter qualities +Wilson says: “He could with great nicety and exactness perceive the +smallest degree of roughness, or defect of polish, on a surface; thus, +in a set of Roman medals he distinguished the genuine from the false, +though they had been counterfeited with such exactness as to deceive a +connoisseur who had judged from the eye. By the sense of touch also he +distinguished the least variation; and he has been seen in a garden, +when observations were making on the sun, to take notice of every cloud +that interrupted the observation, almost as justly as others could see +it. He could also tell when anything was held near his face, or when he +passed by a tree at no great distance merely from the different impulse +of the air on his face. His ear was also equally exact; he could readily +distinguish the fourth part of a note by the quickness of this sense; +and could judge of the size of a room, and of his distance from the +wall. And if he ever walked over a pavement in courts or piazzas which +reflected sound, and was afterwards conducted thither again, he could +tell in what part of the walk he had stood, merely by the note it +sounded.” + +Another victim to small-pox during infancy was DR HENRY MOYES, a native +of Fifeshire, born during the middle of the eighteenth century. “He was +the first blind man who had proposed to lecture on chemistry, and as a +lecturer he acquired great reputation; his address was easy and +pleasing, his language correct, and he performed his experiments in a +manner which always gave great pleasure to his auditors.... Being of a +restless disposition, and fond of traveling, he, in 1785, visited +America.... The following paragraph respecting him appeared in one of +the American newspapers of that day:--‘The celebrated Dr Moyes, though +blind, delivered a lecture upon optics, in which he delineated the +properties of light and shade, and also gave an astonishing illustration +of the power of touch. A highly polished plate of steel was presented to +him with the stroke of an etching tool so minutely engraved on it that +it was invisible to the naked eye, and only discoverable by a powerful +magnifying glass; with his fingers, however, he discovered the extent, +and measured the length of the line. Dr Moyes informed us that being +overturned in a stage-coach one dark rainy evening in England, and the +carriage and four horses thrown into a ditch, the passengers and +drivers, with two eyes apiece, were obliged to apply to him, who had no +eyes, for assistance in extricating the horses. “As for me,” said he, “I +was quite at home in the dark ditch ... now directing eight persons to +pull here, and haul there with all the dexterity and activity of a +man-of-war’s boatswain.”’” + +THOMAS WILSON, “the blind bell-ringer of Dumfries,” also owed his +affliction to small-pox in childhood. At the mature age of twelve he was +promoted to be chief ringer of Dumfries. Says our biographer: “He +moreover excelled in the culinary art, cooking his victuals with the +greatest nicety; and priding himself on the architectural skill he +displayed in erecting a good ingle or fire. In his domestic economy he +neither had nor required an assistant. He fetched his own water, made +his own bed, cooked his own victuals, planted and raised his own +potatoes; and, what is more strange still, cut his own peats, and was +allowed by all to keep as clean a house as the most particular spinster +in the town. Among a hundred rows of potatoes he easily found the way to +his own; and when turning peats walked as carefully among the hags of +lochar moss as those who were in possession of all their faculties. At +raising potatoes, or any other odd job, he was ever ready to bear a +hand; and when a neighbour became groggy on a Saturday night, it was by +no means an uncommon spectacle to see Tom conducting him home to his +wife and children.... At another time, returning home one evening a +little after ten o’clock, he heard a gentleman, who had just alighted +from the mail, inquiring the way to Colin, and Tom instantly offered to +conduct him thither. His services were gladly accepted, and he acted his +part so well that, although Colin is three miles from Dumfries, the +stranger did not discover his guide was blind until they reached the end +of their journey.” + +Music, indeed, in some form, would seem to be the natural refuge of the +blind. Among the many who have made it their profession, JOHN STANLEY +was one of the most eminent. Born in 1713, he lost his sight at the age +of two, not from disease, but by falling on a marble hearth, with a +china basin in his hand. At eleven he became organist of All-Hallows’, +Bread Street; at thirteen he was chosen from among many candidates to +fill a similar position at St Andrew’s, Holborn. Eight years later “the +Benchers of the Honorable Society of the Inner Temple elected him one of +their organists.” The following was written by one of Stanley’s old +pupils:--“It was common, just as the service of St Andrew’s Church, or +the Temple, was ended, to see forty or fifty organists at the altar, +waiting to hear his last voluntary; and even Handel himself I have +frequently seen at both of those places. In short, it must be confessed +that his extempore voluntaries were inimitable, and his taste in +composition wonderful. I was his apprentice, and I remember, the first +year I went to him, his occasionally playing (for his amusement only) at +billiards, mississipie, shuffle-board, and skittles, at which games he +constantly beat his competitors. To avoid prolixity I shall only mention +his showing me the way, both on horseback and on foot, through the +private streets in Westminster, the intricate passages of the city, and +the adjacent villages, places at which I had never been before. I +remember also his playing very correctly all Corelli’s and Geminiani’s +twelve solos on the violin. He had so correct an ear that he never +forgot the voice of any person he had once heard speak, and I myself +have divers times been a witness of this. In April, 1779, as he and I +were going to Pall Mall, to the late Dr Boyce’s auction, a gentleman met +us who had been in Jamaica twenty years, and in a feigned voice said, +‘How do you do, Mr Stanley?’ when he, after pausing a little, said, ‘God +bless me, Mr Smith, how long have you been in England?’ If twenty people +were seated at a table near him, he would address them all in regular +order, without their situations being previously announced to him. +Riding on horseback was one of his favorite exercises; and towards the +conclusion of his life, when he lived at Epping Forest, and wished to +give his friends an airing, he would often take them the pleasantest +road and point out the most agreeable prospects.” + +All the preceding, it will be noticed, became blind early in life, and +this would generally seem to be a necessary condition towards the +subject acquiring an exceptional mastery over his affliction. At all +events, of the twenty-six biographies (including his own) in which +Wilson provides the necessary data, only six lose their sight later than +youth, and several of these--as MILTON and EULER, for instance--are +included for their eminence pure and simple and not because they are +remarkable as blind men. Perhaps even HUBER must be included in this +category, for his marvellous research work among bees (he it was who +solved the mystery of the queen bee’s aerial “nuptial flight”) seems to +have been almost entirely conducted through the eyes of his wife, his +son, and a trained attendant, and not to depend in any marked way on the +compensatory development of other senses. Of the twenty youthful +victims, the cause of blindness is stated in fourteen cases, and of +these fourteen no fewer than ten owe the calamity to small-pox. + +To this general rule of youthful initiation Dr HUGH JAMES provides an +exception. He was born at St Bees in 1771, and had already been +practising for several years when he became totally blind at the age of +thirty-five. In spite of this, he continued his ordinary work as a +physician, even with increased success. If Dr James’s record under this +handicap is less showy than that of many others, it is remarkable for +the mature age at which he successfully adapted himself to a new life. +He died at forty-five, still practising; indeed he died of a disease +contracted at the bedside of a needy patient. + +But for energy, resource and sheer bravado under blindness, no age and +no country can show anything to excel the record of JOHN METCALF--“Blind +Jack of Knaresborough” (1717-1810). At six he lost his sight through +small-pox, at nine he could get on pretty well unaided, at fourteen he +announced his intention of disregarding his affliction thenceforward and +of behaving in every respect as a normal human being. It is true that +immediately on this brave resolve he fell into a gravel pit and received +a serious hurt while escaping, under pursuit, from an orchard he was +robbing, but fortunately this did not affect his self-reliance. At +twenty he had made a reputation as a pugilist. + +Metcalf’s exploits are too many and diverse to be more than briefly +touched upon. In boyhood he became an expert swimmer, diver, horse-rider +and, indeed, an adept in country sports generally. While yet a boy he +was engaged to find the bodies of two men who had been drowned in a +local river and swept away into its treacherous depths; he succeeded in +recovering one. He followed the hounds regularly, won some races, and +had at that time an ambition to become a jockey. He was also a very good +card-player (for stakes), a professional violinist, and a trainer of +fighting-cocks. All through life there was a streak of jocosity, even of +devilment, in his nature. Twenty-one found him very robust, just under +six feet two high, and as ready with his tongue as with his hands and +feet. The following year he learned that his sweetheart was being +married by her parents to a more eligible rival. Metcalf eloped with her +on the night before the wedding and married her himself the next day. +From Knaresborough, where they set up house, he walked to London and +back, beating the coach on the return journey. + +On the outbreak of the ’45 he started recruiting for the King and in two +days had enlisted one hundred and forty men. 64 of these, Metcalf +playing at their head, marched into Newcastle, where they were drafted +into Pulteney’s regiment. With them Metcalf took part in the battle of +Falkirk, and in other engagements down to Culloden. After Culloden he +returned to Knaresborough and became horse-dealer, cotton and worsted +merchant, and general smuggler. A little later he did well in army +contract work, and then started to run a stage-coach between York and +Knaresborough, driving it himself both summer and winter. + +His extensive journeyings and his coach work had made the blind man +familiar, in a very special way, with the roads and the land between +them, and in 1765, at the age of forty-eight, he came into his true +vocation--that of road construction. It is unnecessary to follow his +career in this development; it is enough to say that during the next +twenty-seven years he constructed some one hundred and eighty miles of +road. Much of it was over very difficult country, some of it, indeed, +over country which up to that time had been deemed impossible, but all +of it was well made. His plans did not always commend themselves in +advance to the authorities. For such a contingency Metcalf had a very +reasonable proposal, “Let me make the road my way, and if it is not +perfectly satisfactory when finished I will pull it all to pieces and, +without extra charge, make it your way.” He had been over the ground in +his very special way; of this a Dr Bew, who knew him, wrote: “With the +assistance only of a long staff, I have several times met this man +traversing roads, ascending steep and rugged heights, exploring valleys +and investigating their extent, form and situation so as to answer his +designs in the best manner.... He was alone as usual.” + +Remarkable to the end, John Metcalf reached his ninety-fourth year and +left behind him ninety great-grandchildren. + + * * * * * + +It would be easy to multiply appropriate instances from Wilson’s book, +but bulk is not the object. Nor can his _Anecdotes of the Blind_ be +materially drawn upon, although it is impossible to resist alluding to +two delightful cases where blind men detected blindness in horses after +the animals had been examined and passed by ordinary experts. In one +instance suspicion arose from the sound of the horse’s step in walking, +“which implied a peculiar and unusual caution in the manner of putting +down his feet.” In the other case the blind man, relying solely on his +touch, “felt the one eye to be colder than the other.” These two +anecdotes are credited to Dr Abercrombie; Scott, in a note to _Peveril +of the Peak_ (“Mute Vassals”), recounts a similar case, where the blind +man discovered the imperfection by touching the horse’s eyes sharply +with one hand, while he placed the other over its heart and observed +that there was no increase of pulsation. + +One point in the capacity of the blind is frequently in dispute--the +power to distinguish color. Even so ingenious a man as the Nicholas +Saunderson already mentioned not only could gain no perception of color +himself, but used to say that “it was pretending to impossibilities.” Mr +J. A. Macy, who edited Miss Helen Keller’s book, _The Story of my +Life_--an experience that ought surely to have effaced the word +“impossible” from his mind in connection with the blind--makes the bold +statement: “No blind person can tell colour.” + +Three instances of those for whom this power has been claimed are all +that can be included here. The reader must attach so much credibility to +them as he thinks fit: + +1. From Wilson’s _Biography_, as _ante_: + +“The late family tailor (MACGUIRE) of Mr M‘Donald, of Clanronald, in +Inverness-shire, lost his sight fifteen years before his death, yet he +still continued to work for the family as before, not indeed with the +same expedition, but with equal correctness. It is well known how +difficult it is to make a tartan dress, because every stripe and colour +(of which there are many) must fit each other with mathematical +exactness; hence even very few tailors who enjoy their sight are capable +of executing that task.... It is said that Macguire could, by the sense +of touch, distinguish all the colours of the tartan.” + +2. From the _Dictionary of National Biography_: + +“M‘AVOY, MARGARET (1800-1820), blind lady, was born at Liverpool of +respectable parentage on 28 June 1800. She was of a sickly constitution, +and became totally blind in June 1816. Her case attracted considerable +attention from the readiness with which she could distinguish by her +touch the colours of cloth, silk, and stained glass; she could +accurately describe, too, the height, dress, bearing, and other +characteristics of her visitors; and she could even decipher the forms +of letters in a printed book or clearly written manuscript with her +fingers’ ends, so as to be able to read with tolerable facility. Her +needlework was remarkable for its extreme neatness. Within a few days of +her death she wrote a letter to her executor. She died at Liverpool on +18 August 1820.” + +3. From _The Daily Telegraph_, 29th April 1922: + +“American scientists are deeply interested in the discovery of a young +girl of seventeen, WILLETTA HUGGINS, who, although totally blind and +deaf, can ‘see and hear’ perfectly through a supernormal sense of smell +and touch. Miss Huggins, who has been quite deaf since she was ten years +old, and totally blind since she was fifteen, demonstrated to the +satisfaction of physicians and scientists that she can hear perfectly +over the telephone by placing her finger-tips upon the receiver and +listening to conversation with friends by placing her fingers on the +speakers’ cheeks. She attends lectures and concerts, and hears by +holding a thin sheet of paper between her fingers directed broadside +towards the volume of sound, and reads newspaper headlines by running +her finger-tips over large type. She discerns colours by odours, and +before the Chicago Medical Society recently she separated several skeins +of wool correctly and declared their colours by smelling them, and also +recognised the various colours in a neck-tie.” + + * * * * * + +The case of Miss HELEN KELLER has already been referred to. In America +that case has become classic; indeed in its way the life of Miss Keller +is almost as remarkable as that of John Metcalf, but, needless to say +the way is a very different one. Her book, _The Story of My Life_, is a +very full and engrossing account of her education (in this instance +“life” and “education” are interchangeable) from “the earliest time” +until shortly after her entry into Radcliffe College in 1900, she then +being in her twenty-first year. The book consists of three parts: (1) +her autobiography; (2) her letters; (3) her biography from external +sources, chiefly by the account of Miss Sullivan, who trained her. + +The difficulty here was not merely blindness. When less than two years +old not only sight, but hearing, and with hearing speech, were all lost. +Her people were well-to-do, and skilled advice was frequently obtained, +but no improvement came. As the months and the years went on, +intelligent communication between the child and the world grew less, +while a naturally impulsive nature deepened into sullenness and passion +in the face of a dimly realised “difference,” and of her inability to +understand and to be understood. When Miss Sullivan came to live with +the Kellers in 1887, on a rather forlorn hope of being able to do +something with Helen, the child was six, and relapsing into primitive +savagery. The first--and in the event the one and only--problem was that +of opening up communication with the stunted mind, of raising or +piercing the black veil that had settled around it four years before. + +A month after her arrival Miss Sullivan wrote as follows:--“I must write +you a line this morning because something very important has happened. +Helen has taken the second great step in her education. She has learned +that _everything has a name, and that the manual alphabet is the key to +everything she wants to know_. + +“In a previous letter I think I wrote you that ‘mug’ and ‘milk’ had +given Helen more trouble than all the rest. She confused the nouns with +the verb ‘drink.’ She didn’t know the word for ‘drink,’ but went through +the pantomime of drinking whenever she spelled ‘mug’ or ‘milk.’ This +morning, while she was washing, she wanted to know the name for ‘water.’ +When she wants to know the name of anything, she points to it and pats +my hand. I spelled ‘w-a-t-e-r’ and thought no more about it until after +breakfast. Then it occurred to me that with the help of this new word I +might succeed in straightening out the ‘mug-milk’ difficulty. We went +out to the pump-house, and I made Helen hold her mug under the spout +while I pumped. As the cold water gushed forth, filling the mug, I +spelled ‘w-a-t-e-r’ in Helen’s free hand. The word coming so close upon +the sensation of cold water rushing over her hand seemed to startle her. +She dropped the mug and stood as one transfixed. A new light came into +her face. She spelled ‘water’ several times. Then she dropped on the +ground and asked for its name and pointed to the pump and the trellis, +and suddenly turning round she asked for my name. I spelled ‘teacher.’ +Just then the nurse brought Helen’s little sister into the pump-house, +and Helen spelled ‘baby’ and pointed to the nurse. All the way back to +the house she was highly excited, and learned the name of every object +she touched, so that in a few hours she had added thirty new words to +her vocabulary. Here are some of them: door, open, shut, give, go, come, +and a great many more. + +“_P.S._--I didn’t finish my letter in time to get it posted last night, +so I shall add a line. Helen got up this morning like a radiant fairy. +She has flitted from object to object, asking the name of everything and +kissing me for very gladness. Last night when I got in bed, she stole +into my arms of her own accord and kissed me for the first time, and I +thought my heart would burst, so full was it of joy.” + +Seven months later we have this characteristic sketch. It may not be +very much to the point here, but it would be difficult to excel its +peculiar quality: “We took Helen to the circus, and had ‘the time of our +lives!’ The circus people were much interested in Helen, and did +everything they could to make her first circus a memorable event. They +let her feel the animals whenever it was safe. She fed the elephants, +and was allowed to climb up on the back of the largest, and sit in the +lap of the ‘Oriental Princess’ while the elephant marched majestically +around the ring. She felt some young lions. They were as gentle as +kittens; but I told her they would get wild and fierce as they grew +older. She said to the keeper: ‘I will take the baby lions home and +teach them to be mild.’ The keeper of the bears made one big black +fellow stand on his hind legs and hold out his great paw to us, which +Helen shook politely. She was greatly delighted with the monkeys and +kept her hand on the star performer while he went through his tricks, +and laughed heartily when he took off his hat to the audience. One cute +little fellow stole her hair-ribbon, and another tried to snatch the +flowers out of her hat. I don’t know who had the best time, the monkeys, +Helen, or the spectators. One of the leopards licked her hands, and the +man in charge of the giraffes lifted her up in his arms so that she +could feel their ears and see how tall they were. She also felt a Greek +chariot, and the charioteer would have liked to take her round the ring; +but she was afraid of ‘many swift horses.’ The riders and clowns and +rope-walkers were all glad to let the little blind girl feel their +costumes and follow their motions whenever it was possible, and she +kissed them all, to show her gratitude. Some of them cried, and the Wild +Man of Borneo shrank from her sweet little face in terror. She has +talked about nothing but the circus ever since.” + +So far there is nothing in this case very material to the purpose of +this Introduction. The story of Helen Keller is really the story of the +triumph of Miss Sullivan, showing how, with infinite patience and +resource, she presently brought a naturally keen and versatile mind out +of bondage and finally led it, despite all obstacles, to the full +attainment of its originally endowed powers. But the last resort of the +blind--some of them--is the undeterminate quality to which the +expression “sixth sense” has often been applied. On this subject, Helen +being about seven years old at this time, Miss Sullivan writes: “On +another occasion while walking with me she seemed conscious of the +presence of her brother, although we were distant from him. She spelled +his name repeatedly and started in the direction in which he was coming. + +“When walking or riding she often gives the names of the people we meet +almost as soon as we recognise them.” + +And a year later: + +“I mentioned several instances where she seemed to have called into use +an inexplicable mental faculty; but it now seems to me, after carefully +considering the matter, that this power may be explained by her perfect +familiarity with the muscular variations of those with whom she comes +into contact, caused by their emotions.... One day, while she was +walking out with her mother and Mr Anagnos, a boy threw a torpedo, which +startled Mrs Keller. Helen felt the change in her mother’s movements +instantly, and asked, ‘What are we afraid of?’ On one occasion, while +walking on the Common with her, I saw a police officer taking a man to +the station-house. The agitation which I felt evidently produced a +perceptible physical change; for Helen asked excitedly, ‘What do you +see?’ + +“A striking illustration of this strange power was recently shown while +her ears were being examined by the aurists in Cincinnati. Several +experiments were tried, to determine positively whether or not she had +any perception of sound. All present were astonished when she appeared +not only to hear a whistle, but also an ordinary tone of voice. She +would turn her head, smile, and act as though she had heard what was +said. I was then standing beside her, holding her hand. Thinking that +she was receiving impressions from me, I put her hands upon the table, +and withdrew to the opposite side of the room. The aurists then tried +their experiments with quite different results. Helen remained +motionless through them all, not once showing the least sign that she +realised what was going on. At my suggestion, one of the gentlemen took +her hand, and the tests were repeated. This time her countenance changed +whenever she was spoken to, but there was not such a decided lighting up +of the features as when I held her hand. + +“In the account of Helen last year it was stated that she knew nothing +about death, or the burial of the body; yet on entering a cemetery for +the first time in her life she showed signs of emotion--her eyes +actually filling with tears.... + +“While making a visit at Brewster, Massachusetts, she one day +accompanied my friend and me through the graveyard. She examined one +stone after another, and seemed pleased when she could decipher a name. +She smelt of the flowers, but showed no desire to pluck them; and, when +I gathered a few for her, she refused to have them pinned on her dress. +When her attention was drawn to a marble slab inscribed with the name +FLORENCE in relief, she dropped upon the ground as though looking for +something, then turned to me with a face full of trouble, and asked, +‘Where is poor little Florence?’ I evaded the question, but she +persisted. Turning to my friend, she asked, ‘Did you cry loud for poor +little Florence?’ Then she added: ‘I think she is very dead. Who put her +in big hole?’ As she continued to ask these distressing questions, we +left the cemetery. Florence was the daughter of my friend, and was a +young lady at the time of her death; but Helen had been told nothing +about her, nor did she even know that my friend had had a daughter. +Helen had been given a bed and carriage for her dolls, which she had +received and used like any other gift. On her return to the house after +her visit to the cemetery, she ran to the closet where these toys were +kept, and carried them to my friend, saying, ‘They are poor little +Florence’s.’ This was true, although we were at a loss to understand how +she guessed it.” + +“Muscular variation” would rather seem to be capable of explaining away +most of the occult phenomena if this is it. But at all events the latest +intelligence of Miss Keller is quite tangible and undeniably “in the +picture.” According to _Who’s Who in America_, she “Appears in moving +picture-play, _Deliverance_, based on her autobiography.” This, +doubtless, is another record in the achievements of the blind: Miss +Keller has become a “movie.” + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + THE EYES OF + MAX CARRADOS + + + + + I + + The Virginiola Fraud + + +If there was one thing more than another about Max Carrados that came as +a continual surprise, even a mild shock, to his acquaintances, it was +the wide and unrestricted scope of his amusements. Had the blind man +displayed a pensive interest in chamber music, starred by an occasional +visit to the opera, taken a daily walk in the park on his attendant’s +arm, and found his normal recreation in chess or in being read to, the +routine would have seemed an eminently fit and proper one. But to call +at The Turrets and learn that Carrados was out on the river punting, or +to find him in his gymnasium, probably with the gloves on, outraged +one’s sense of values. The only extraordinary thing in fact about his +recreations was their ordinariness. He frequently spent an afternoon at +Lord’s when there was the prospect of a good game being put up; he +played golf, bowls, croquet and cards; fished in all waters, and +admitted that he had never missed the University Boat Race since the +great finish of ’91. When he walked about the streets anywhere within +two miles of his house he was quite independent of any guidance, and on +one occasion he had saved a mesmerized girl’s life on Richmond Bridge by +dragging her into one of the recesses just in time to escape an +uncontrollable dray that had jumped the kerb. + +This prelude is by way of explaining the attitude of a certain Mr +Marrable whom Carrados knew, as he knew a hundred strange and useful +people. Marrable had chambers in the neighbourhood of Piccadilly which +he furnished and decorated on a lavish and expensive scale. His +bric-à-brac, pictures, books and appointments, indeed, constituted the +man’s means of living, for he was one of the best all-round judges of +art and the antique in London, and with a nonchalant air of indifference +he very pleasantly and profitably lounged his way through life on the +honey extracted from one facile transaction after another. Living on his +wits in a strictly legitimate sense, he enjoyed all the advantages of +being a dealer without the necessity of maintaining a place of business. +It was not even necessary for him to find “bargains” in the general +sense, for buying in the ordinary market and selling in a very special +and restricted one disclosed a substantial margin. This commercial +system, less rare than one might imagine, involved no misrepresentation: +his wealthy and exclusive clients were quite willing to pay the +difference for the _cachet_ of Mr Marrable’s connoisseurship and also, +perhaps, for the amiable reluctance with which he carried on his +operations. + +The business that took Carrados to the amateur dealer’s rooms one day in +April has nothing to do with this particular incident. It was quite +friendly and satisfactory on both sides, but it was not until Carrados +rose to leave that the tangent of the visit touched the circle of the +_Virginiola_. + +“I am due at Gurnard’s at about three-thirty,” remarked Marrable, +glancing at a Louis XVI. ormolu clock for which he had marked off a +certain musical comedy countess at two hundred and fifty guineas. “Your +way at all?” + +“Gurnard & Lane’s--the auctioneers?” + +“Yes. They have a book sale on this afternoon.” + +“I hope I haven’t been keeping you,” apologised Carrados. + +“Oh, not at all. There is nothing I want among the earlier lots.” He +picked up a catalogue from a satinwood desk in which Mademoiselle Mars +had once kept her play-bills and glanced down the pages. “No. 191 is the +first I have marked: _An Account of the Newly Discovered Islands of Sir +George Sommers, called ‘Virginiola.’_ You aren’t a competitor, by the +way?” + +“No,” replied Carrados; “but if you don’t mind I should like to go with +you.” + +Marrable looked at him with slightly suspicious curiosity. + +“You’d find it uncommonly dull, surely, seeing nothing,” he remarked. + +“I generally contrive to extract some interest from what is going on,” +said Carrados modestly. “And as I have never yet been at a book +sale----” + +“Oh, come, by all means,” interposed the other. “I shall be very glad of +your company. Only I was surprised for the moment at the idea. I should +warn you, however, that it isn’t anything great in the way of a +dispersal--no Caxtons or first-folio Shakespeares. Consequently there +will be an absence of ducal bibliophiles and literary Cabinet ministers, +and we shall have a crowd of more or less frowsy dealers.” + +They had walked down into the street as they conversed. Marrable held up +a finger to the nearest taxi-cab on an adjacent rank, opened the door +for Carrados, and gave the driver the address of the auction rooms of +which he had spoken. + +“I don’t expect to get very much,” he speculated, turning over the later +pages of the catalogue, which he still carried in his hand. “I’ve marked +a dozen lots, but I’m not particularly keen on half of them. But I +should certainly like to land the _Virginiola_.” + +“It is rare, I suppose?” inquired Carrados. Indifferent to books from +the bibliophile’s standpoint, he was able to feel the interest that one +collector is generally willing to extend to the tastes of another. + +“Yes,” assented Marrable with weighty consideration. “Yes. In a way it +is extremely rare. But this copy is faulty--the Dedication and Address +pages are missing. That will bring down the bidding enormously, and yet +it is just the defect that makes it attractive to me.” + +For a moment he was torn between the secretiveness bred of his position +and a human desire to expound his shrewdness. The weakness triumphed. + +“A few months ago,” he continued, “I came cross another copy of the +_Virginiola_ among the lumber of a Bristol second-hand book-dealer’s +stock. It was altogether a rotten specimen--both covers gone, scores of +pages ripped away, and most of those that remained appallingly torn and +dirty. It was a fragment in fact, and I was not tempted even at the +nominal guinea that was put upon it. But now----” + +“Quite so,” agreed Carrados. + +“The first few pages were just the scrap that was presentable. I have a +wonderful memory for details like that. The pages I want were +discoloured, but they were sound. Sunshine or a chloride of lime bath +will restore them to condition. If I get _this_ _Virginiola_ I shall run +down to Bristol to-morrow.” + +“I congratulate you,” said Carrados. “Unless, of course, your Bristol +friend runs up to London to-day!” + +Mr Marrable started rather violently. Then he shook his head with a +knowing look. + +“No; he won’t do that. He is only a little back-street huckster. True, +if he found out that a _Virginiola_ short of the pages he possesses was +being sold he might have written to a London dealer, but he won’t find +out. For some reason they have overlooked the defect in cataloguing. Of +course every expert will spot the omission at once, as I did this +morning, and the book will be sold as faulty, but if my Bristol friend, +as you call him, did happen to see a catalogue there would be nothing to +suggest any profitable opening to him.” + +“Splendid,” admitted the blind man. “What would a perfect _Virginiola_ +be worth?” + +“Auction price? Oh, about five hundred guineas.” + +“And to-day’s copy?” + +“Ah, that’s more difficult ground. You see, every perfect copy is alike, +but every imperfect copy is different. Well, say anything from a hundred +and fifty to three hundred, according to who wants it. I shall be very +content to take it half-way.” + +“Two hundred and twenty-five? Yes, I suppose so. Five hundred, less two +twenty-five plus one leaves two hundred and seventy-four guineas to the +good. You shall certainly pay for the taxi!” + +“Oh, I don’t mind standing the taxi,” declared Mr Marrable +magniloquently, “but don’t pin me down to five hundred--that’s the +auction price. I should want a trifle above--if I decided to let the +book go out of my own library, that is to say. Probably I should keep +it. Well, here we are.” + +The cab had drawn to the kerb opposite the door of Messrs Gurnard’s +unpretentious frontage. Mr Marrable piloted his friend into the saleroom +and to a vacant chair by the wall, and then went off to watch the fray +at closer quarters. Carrados heard the smooth-tongued auctioneer +referring to an item as No. 142, and for the next fifty lots he followed +the strangely unexciting progress of the sale with his own peculiar +speculative interest. + +“Lot 191,” announced the easy, untiring voice. “_An Account of the Newly +Discovered Islands, etc._” At last the atmosphere pulsed to a faint +thrill of expectation. “Unfortunately we had not the book before us when +the catalogue was drawn up. Lot 191 is imperfect and is sold not subject +to return; a very desirable volume all the same. What may I say for Lot +191, please? _An Account, etc._, in original leather, faulty, and not +subject to return.” + +As Mr Marrable had indicated, the defective _Virginiola_ occupied a +rather special position. Did anyone else want it? was in several minds; +and if so, how much did he want it? Everyone waited until at last the +question seemed to fine down into: Did _anyone_ want it? + +“May I say two hundred guineas?” suggested the auctioneer persuasively. + +A large, heavy-faced man, who might have been a cattle-dealer from the +North by every indication that his appearance gave, opened the bidding. +He, at any rate, could have dissipated the uncertainty and saved the +room the waiting. Holding, as he did, two commissions, he was bound to +make the price a point above the lower of the orders. + +“A hundred and twenty-one pounds.” + +“Guineas,” came back like a slap from across the tables. + +“A hundred and twenty-eight pounds.” + +“Guineas.” + +“A hundred and thirty-five.” + +“Guineas.” + +“A hundred and fifty.” + +“Guineas.” + +The duel began to resemble the efforts of some unwieldy pachyderm to +shake off the attack of a nimble carnivore by fruitless twists and +plunges. But now other voices, nods and uplifted eyebrows joined in, +complicating a direct issue, and the forked arithmetic played in among +pounds and guineas with bewildering iteration. Then, as suddenly as it +had grown, the fusillade shrivelled away, leaving the 2 original +antagonists like two doughty champions emerging from a mêlée. + +“Two hundred and thirty.” + +“Guineas.” + +“Two hundred and fifty.” + +“Guineas.” + +“Two hundred and seventy.” + +There was no response. The large man in the heavy ulster and pot-hat was +to survive the attack after all, apparently: the elephant to outlast the +jaguar. + +“Two hundred and seventy pounds?” The auctioneer swept a comprehensive +inquiry at every participant in the fray and raised his hammer. “It’s +against you, sir. No advance? At two hundred and seventy pounds...?” + +The hammer began to fall. A score of pencils wrote “£270” against Lot +191. + +“And eighty!” + +The voice of the new bidder cut in crisp and business-like. Without +ostentation it conveyed the cheerful message: “Now we are just +beginning. I feel uncommonly fit.” It caught the hammer in mid-air and +arrested it. It made the large man feel tired and discouraged. He pushed +back his hat, shook his head slowly, with his eyes fixed on his +catalogue, and remained in stolid meditation. Carrados smiled inwardly +at the restraint and strategy of his friend. + +“Two hundred and eighty. Thank you, sir. Two hundred and eighty +pounds...?” He knew by intuition that the price was final and the hammer +fell decisively. “Mr Marrable.... Lot 192, _History and Antiquities of +the County, etc._ Put it in the bidding, please. One pound...?” + +After the sale Mr Marrable came round to Carrados’s chair in very good +spirits. Certainly he had had to give a not insignificant price for the +_Virginiola_, but the attendant circumstances had elated him. Then he +had secured the greater part of the other lots he wanted, and at quite +moderate valuations. + +“I’ve paid my cheque and got my delivery note,” he explained. “I shall +send my men round for the books when I get back. What do you think of +the business?” + +“Vastly entertaining,” replied Carrados. “I have enjoyed myself +thoroughly.” + +“Oh, well.... But they were out for the _Virginiola_, weren’t they?” + +“Yes,” admitted Carrados. “I feel that it is my turn to stand a taxi. +Can I drop you?” + +Mr Marrable assented graciously and they set out again. + +“Look here,” said that gentleman as they approached his door, “I think +that I can put my hand on the Rimini cameo I told you about, if you +don’t mind coming up again. Do you care to, now that you are here?” + +“Certainly,” replied Carrados. “I should like to handle it.” + +“May as well turn off the taxi then. There is a stand quite near.” + +The cameo proved interesting and led to the display of one or two other +articles of bijouterie. The host rang for tea and easily prevailed on +Carrados--who could be entertained by anyone except the rare individual +who had no special knowledge on any subject whatever--to remain. Thus it +came about that the blind man was still there when the servant arrived +with the books. + +“I say, Carrados,” called out Mr Marrable. + +He had crossed the room to speak with his man, who had come up +immediately on his return. The servant continued to explain, and it was +evident that something annoying had happened. “Here’s a devilish fine +thing,” continued Mr Marrable, dividing his attention between the two. +“Felix has just been to Gurnard’s and they tell him that the +_Virginiola_ cannot be found!” + +“‘Mislaid for the moment,’ the gentleman said,” amplified Felix. + +“They send me back my cheque pending the book’s recovery, but did you +ever hear of such a thing? I was going down to Bristol by an early train +to-morrow. Now I don’t know what the deuce to do.” + +“Why not go back and find out what has really happened?” suggested +Carrados. “They will tell you more than they would tell your man. If the +book is stolen you may as well put off your journey. If it is +mislaid--taken off by someone else in mistake, I expect they mean--it +may be on its way back by now.” + +“Yes; I suppose I’d better go. You’ve had enough of it, I suppose?” + +“On the contrary I was going to ask you to let me accompany you. It may +be getting interesting.” + +“I hope not,” retorted Marrable. “Come if you can spare the time, but +the very tamest ending will suit me the best.” + +Felix had called up another cab by the time they reached the door, and +for the second time that afternoon they spun through the West End +streets with the auction rooms for their destination. + +“Your turn to pay again, I think,” proposed Carrados when they arrived. +“You take the odd numbers and I’ll take the even!” + +Inside, most of the staff were obviously distracted by the strain of the +untoward event and it was very evident that barbed words had been on the +wing. In the private office to which Mr Marrable’s card gained them +immediate admittance they found all those actually concerned in the loss +engaged in saying the same things over to each other for the hundredth +time. + +“The book isn’t on the shelves now and there’s the number in the +delivery note; that’s all I know about it,” a saleroom porter was +reiterating with the air of an extremely reasonable martyr. + +“Yes, yes,” admitted the auctioneer who had conducted the sale, “no +one----Oh, I’m glad you are here, Mr Marrable. You’ve heard of +our--er--eh----” + +“My man came back with something about the book--the _Virginiola_--being +mislaid,” replied Mr Marrable. “That is all I know so far.” + +“Well, it’s very regrettable, of course, and we must ask your +indulgence; but what has happened is simple enough and I hope it isn’t +serious.” + +“What concerns me,” interposed Mr Marrable, “is merely this: Am I to +have the book, and when?” + +“We hope to deliver it into your hands--well, in a very short time. As I +was saying, what has happened is this: Another purchaser bought certain +lots. Among them was Lot 91. My sale clerk, in the stress of his duties, +inadvertently filled in the delivery note as Lot 191.” A gesture of +despairing protest from the unfortunate young man referred to passed +unheeded. “Consequently, as this gentleman took away his purchases at +the end of the sale, he carried off the _Virginiola_ among them. When he +comes to look into the parcel he will at once discover the substitution +and--er--of course return the volume.” + +“I see,” assented Mr Marrable. “That seems straightforward enough, but +the delay is unfortunate for me. Have you sent after the purchaser, by +the way?” + +“We haven’t sent after the purchaser because he happens to live in +Derbyshire,” was the reply. “Here is his card. We are writing at once, +but the probability is that he is staying in London overnight at least.” + +“You might wire.” + +“We will, of course, wire if you ask us to do so, Mr Marrable, but it +seems to indicate an attitude of distrust towards Mr--er--Mr Dillworthy +of Cullington Grange that I see no reason to entertain.” + +“Assuming the whole incident to be accidental, I think you are doing +quite right. But in order to save time mayn’t it perhaps be worth while +anticipating that something else may have been at work?” + +They all looked at Mr Carrados, who advanced this suggestion +diffidently. The young man in the background breathed an involuntary +“Ah!” of agreement and came a little more to the front. + +“Do you suggest that Mr Dillworthy of Cullington Grange would actually +deny possession of the book?” inquired the auctioneer a little +cuttingly. + +“Pardon me,” replied Carrados blandly, “but do you know Mr Dillworthy of +Cullington Grange?” + +“No, certainly, I----” + +“Nor, of course, the purchaser of Lot 91? That naturally follows. Then +for the purpose of our hypothesis I would suggest that we eliminate Mr +Dillworthy, who quite reasonably may not have been within a hundred +miles of Charing Cross to-day. What remains? His visiting-card, that +would cost about a crown at the outside to reproduce, or might much more +cheaply be picked up from a hundred halls or office tables.” + +The auctioneer smiled. + +“An elaborate plant, eh? Have you any practical knowledge, sir, of the +difficulty, the impossibility, that would attend the disposal of this +imperfect copy the moment our loss is notified?” + +“But suppose it should become a perfect copy in the meantime? That might +throw dust in their eyes. Eh, Marrable?” + +“I say!” exclaimed the virtuoso, with his ideas forcibly directed into a +new channel. “Yes, there is that, you know, Mr Trenchard.” + +“Even in that very unlikely event the _Virginiola_ remains a white +elephant. It cannot be got off to-day nor yet to-morrow. Any bookseller +would require time in which to collate the volume; it dare not be +offered by auction. It is like a Gainsborough or a Leonardo illegally +come by--so much unprofitable lumber after it is stolen.” + +“Then,” hazarded Carrados, “there is the alternative, which might +suggest itself to a really intelligent artist, of selling it before it +is stolen.” + +The conditions were getting a little beyond Mr Trenchard’s easy access. +“Sell it before it is stolen?” he repeated. “Why?” + +“Because of the extreme difficulty, as you have proved, of selling it +after.” + +“But how, I mean?” + +“I think,” interposed a quiet voice from the doorway, “that we had +better accept Mr Carrados’s advice, if he does us the great service of +offering it, without discussion, Leonard. I have the pleasure of +speaking to Mr Max Carrados, have I not?” continued a white-haired old +gentleman, advancing into the room. “My young friend Trenchard, in his +jealousy for the firm’s reputation, starts with the conviction that it +is impossible for us to be victimised. You and I know better, Mr +Carrados. Now will you tell me--I am Mr Ing, by the way--will you tell +me what has really happened?” + +“I wish I could,” admitted Carrados frankly. “Unfortunately I know less +of the circumstances than you do, and although I was certainly present +during a part of the sale, I never even ‘saw’ the book”--he spread out +the fingers of a hand to illustrate--“and probably I was not within +several yards of it or its present holder.” + +“But you have some idea of the method adopted--some theory,” persisted +Mr Ing. “You can tell us what to do.” + +“Even there I can only put two and two together and suggest +investigation on common-sense lines.” + +“It is necessary to go to an expert even for that sometimes,” submitted +the old gentleman with a very comical look. “Now, Mr Carrados, pray +enlighten us.” + +“May I put a few questions then?” + +“By all means.” + +“Do you require me, sir?” inquired Mr Trenchard distantly. + +“Not if you will kindly leave the sale-book and papers, I think, thank +you,” replied Carrados. “This young gentleman, though.” The sale clerk +came forward eagerly. “You have the delivery note there? No, I don’t +want it. This gentleman, whom we will refer to as Mr Dillworthy--91 is +the first thing he bought?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“The price?” + +“Three pounds fifteen.” + +“Is that a good price or a bargain?” + +The clerk looked towards Mr Ing. + +“It’s Coulthorp’s _Marvellous Recoveries_, sir; the edition of 1674,” he +explained. + +“A fair price,” commented the old gentleman. “Yes, quite a good auction +figure.” + +“The _Virginiola_ is folio, I believe. What size is _Marvellous +Recoveries_?” + +“It is folio also.” + +“What was the next lot that Mr Dillworthy bought?” + +“Lot 198.” + +“Any others?” + +“Yes, sir. Lots 211, 217 and 234.” + +“And the prices of these four lots?” + +“Lot 198, a guinea; 211, twelve-and-six; 217, fifteen shillings; 234, +twenty-three shillings.” + +“Those must be very low prices?” + +“They are books in no great demand. At every sale from mixed sources +there are a certain number of make-weight lots.” + +“We find, then, that Mr Dillworthy bought 91 at a good price. After that +he did nothing until 191 had passed. Then he at once secured four lots +of cheap books. This gives a certain colour to suspicion, but it may be +pure coincidence. Now,” he continued, addressing himself to the clerk +again, “after the delivery slip had been made out, did Mr Dillworthy +borrow a pen from you?” + +The youth’s ingenuous face suddenly flashed to a recollection. + +“Suffering Moses!” he exclaimed irrepressibly. “Well----” + +“Then he did?” demanded Mr Ing, too keenly interested to stop to reprove +the manner. + +“Not exactly, sir. He didn’t borrow a pen, but I lent him one.” + +“Ah!” remarked Carrados, “that sounds even better. How did it come +about?” + +“His bill was six pounds twelve and six. He gave me seven pounds and I +made out the delivery form and gave it to him with the change. Then he +said: ‘Could you do with a fiver instead of five ones, by the way? I may +run short of change,’ and he held out a bank-note. ‘Certainly, if you +will kindly write your name and address on the back,’ I replied, and I +gave him a pen.” + +“The one you had been using?” + +“Yes, it was in my hand. He turned away and I thought that he was doing +what I asked, but before he would have had time to do that he handed me +the pen back and said: ‘Thanks; after all, I’ll leave it as it is.’” + +“Who sent in the book for sale?” + +“Described as ‘the property of a gentleman,’” contributed Mr Marrable. +“I wondered.” + +“If you will excuse me for a moment,” said Mr Ing, “I will find out.” + +He returned from another office smiling amiably but shaking his head. + +“‘The property of a gentleman,’” he repeated with senile deliberateness. +“I find that the owner expressed a definite wish for the transaction to +be treated confidentially. It is no unusual thing for a client to desire +that. On certain points of etiquette, Mr Carrados, I am just as jealous +for the firm as Trenchard could be, so that until we can obtain consent +I am afraid that the gentleman must remain anonymous.” + +“The question is,” volunteered Mr Marrable, “where has the volume got +to, rather than where has it come from?” + +“Sometimes,” remarked the blind man, “after looking in many unlikely +places one finds the key in the lock itself. At all events we seem to +have come to the end of our usefulness here. Unless one of your people +happens to come forward with a real clue, Mr Ing, I venture to predict +that you will find more profit in investigating farther afield.” + +“But what are we to do?” exclaimed the old gentleman rather blankly, +when he saw that Carrados was preparing to go. “We are absolute babes at +this sort of thing--at least I know that I am.” + +“The remedy for that is quite simple. Put the case into the hands of the +police.” + +“True, true; but it is not so absolutely simple to us. We have various +interests and, yes, let us say, old-fashioned prejudices to consider. I +suppose”--he became quite touchingly wistful--“I suppose that you could +not be persuaded, Mr Carrados----?” + +“I’m afraid not,” replied Carrados. “I have other irons in the fire just +now. But before you do call in the police, by the way, there is Mr +Trenchard’s view to be considered.” + +“You mean?” + +“I mean that it would be as well to make sure that the _Virginiola_ has +been stolen.” + +“By wiring to Cullington Grange?” + +“Assuming that there is a Cullington Grange. Then there is a harmless +experiment in collateral proof that you might like to make in the +meantime if the reply is delayed, as it reasonably may be through a +dozen causes.” + +“And what is that, Mr Carrados?” + +“Send up Charing Cross Road and find out among the second-hand shops +whether the other books Mr Dillworthy took away with him were sold there +immediately after the sale. They were only bought to round off the +operation. They would be a dangerous incubus to keep, but if our man is +a cool hand he may contrive to realise a pound or so for them before +anything is known. You might even learn something else in the process.” + +“Aye, aye, to be sure,” acquiesced Mr Ing. “We’ll do that at once. And +then, Mr Carrados, just a parting hint. If you were taking up the case +what would _you_ do then?” + +The temptation to be oracular was irresistible. Carrados smiled +inwardly. + +“I should try to find a tall, short-sighted, Welsh book-dealer who +smokes perique tobacco, suffers from a weak chest, wears thick-soled +boots and always carries an umbrella,” he replied with impressive +gravity. + +Mr Ing, the saleroom porter, the young clerk and Mr Marrable all looked +at each other and then began to repeat the varied attributes of the +required individual. + +“There’s that--what’s his name?--old chap with a red waistcoat who’s +always here,” hopefully suggested the porter in an aside. “He wears +specs, and I’ve never seen him without an umbrella.” + +“He’s a Scotchman and stands about five feet three, fathead!” whispered +the clerk. “Isn’t Mr Powis Welsh, sir?” + +“To be sure. Powis of Redmayne Street is the man,” assented Mr Ing. +“Isn’t that correct, Mr Carrados?” + +“I don’t know,” replied Carrados, “but if he answers to the description +it probably is.” + +“And then?” + +“Then I think I should call and encourage him to talk to me--about +Shakespeare.” + +“Why, dash it, Carrados,” cried Mr Marrable, “you said that you knew +nothing of book-collecting and yet you seem to be aware that Powis +specialises Shakespeariana and to know that the _Virginiola_ would +interest him. I wonder how much you have been getting at me!” + +“Oh, I suppose that I’m beginning to pick up a thing or two,” admitted +the blind man diffidently. + +In the course of his experience of crime, fragments of many mysteries +had been brought to Carrados’s notice--detached chapters of chequered +human lives to which the opening and the finis had never been supplied. +Some had fascinated him and yet remained impenetrable to the end, yet +the theft of the _Virginiola_, a mere coup of cool effrontery in which +he felt no great interest after he had pierced the method, was destined +to unfold itself before his mind without an effort on his part. + +The sale at Gurnard’s had taken place on a Wednesday. Friday brought +Carrados a reminder of the stone that he had set rolling in the +appearance of a visiting-card bearing the name and address of Mr Powis +of Redmayne Street. Mr Powis was shown in and proved to be a tall, +mild-looking man with a chronic cough. He carried a moderate parcel in +one hand and, despite the bright, settled condition of the weather, an +umbrella in the other. + +“I’m an antiquarian bookseller, Mr Carrados,” he remarked by way of +introduction. “I haven’t the honour of your custom that I know of, but I +dare say you can guess what brings me here.” + +“You might tell me,” replied Carrados. + +“Oh yes, Mr Carrados, I will tell you. Certainly I will tell you,” +retorted Mr Powis, in a rather louder voice than was absolutely +necessary. “Mr Ing looked in at my place of pizzness yesterday. He said +that he was ‘just passing’--‘just passing,’ you understand.” Mr Powis +emphasised the futility of the subterfuge by laughing sardonically. + +“A charming old gentleman,” remarked Carrados pleasantly. “I don’t +suppose that he would deceive a rabbit.” + +“I don’t suppose that he could,” asserted Mr Powis. “‘By the way,’ he +said, ‘did you see the _Virginiola_ we sold yesterday?’ ‘By the way!’ +Yes, that was it.” + +Carrados nodded his smiling appreciation. + +“‘Oh-ho,’ I thought, ‘the _Virginiola_!’ ‘Yes, Mr Ing,’ I said, ‘it was +a nice copy parring the defect, but a week ago I could have shown you a +nicer and a perfect one to poot.’ + +“‘You’ve got one too, have you?’ he asked. + +“‘Certainly I have,’ I replied, ‘or I should not say so. At least I had, +but it may be sold now. It has gone to a gentleman in Rutland.’ + +“‘Rutland; that’s a little place,’ he remarked thoughtfully. ‘Have you +any objection to mentioning your customer’s name?’ + +“‘Not in the least, Mr Ing,’ I told him. ‘Why should I have? It has +taken me five and twenty years to make my connection, but let all the +trade have it. Sir Roland Chargrave of Densmore Hall is the gentleman.’ + +“Now, look you, Mr Carrados, I could see by the way Mr Ing gasped when I +told him that things are not all right. It seems to be your doing that I +am brought into it and I want to know where I stand.” + +“Have you any misgivings as to where you stand?” inquired Carrados. + +“No, Mr Carrados, I have not,” exclaimed the visitor indignantly. “I +pought my _Virginiola_ three or four weeks ago and I paid a goot price +for it.” + +“Then you certainly have nothing to trouble about.” + +“Put I have a goot deal to trouble about,” vociferated Mr Powis. “I have +a copy of the _Virginiola_ to dispose of----” + +“Oh, you still have it, then?” + +“Yes, Mr Carrados, I have. Thanks to what is peing said pehind my pack, +the pook was returned to me this morning. My name has been connected +with a stolen copy and puyers are very shy, look you, when they hear +that. And word, it travels; oh yes. You may not know how, but to-day +they will be saying in Wales: ‘Have you heard what is peing said of Mr +Powis of London?’ And to-morrow in Scotland it will be: ‘That old tamn +rascal Powis has been caught at last!’” + +In spite of Mr Powis’s desperate seriousness Carrados could not restrain +a laugh at the forcefulness of the recital. “Come, come, Mr Powis,” he +said soothingly, “it isn’t as bad as that, you know. In any case you +have only to display your receipt.” + +“Oh, very goot, very goot indeed!” retorted the Welshman in an extremity +of satire. “Show a buyer my receipt! Excellent! That would be a capital +way to carry on the antiquarian pook pizzness! Besides,” he added, +rather lamely, “in this case it happens that I do not possess a +receipt.” + +“Isn’t that--rather an oversight?” suggested Carrados. + +“No doubt I could easily procure one. Let me tell you the circumstances, +Mr Carrados. I only want to convince you that I have nothing to +conceal.” With this laudable intention Mr Powis’s attitude became more +and more amiable and his manner much less Welsh. He had, in fact, used +up all the indignation that he had generated in anticipation of a wordy +conflict--a species of protective mimicry common to mild-tempered men. +“I bought this book from the Rev. Mr Winch, the vicar of Fordridge, in +Leicestershire. A few weeks ago I received a registered parcel from +Fordridge containing a fine copy of the _Virginiola_. The same post +brought me a letter from Mr Winch. I dare say I have it here.... No, +never mind; it was to the effect that the book had been in the writer’s +family for many generations. Being something of a collector, he had +never wished to sell it, but an unexpected misfortune now obliged him to +raise a sum of money. He had contracted blood-poisoning in his hand and +he had to come up to London for an operation. After that he would have +to take a long sea voyage. He went on to say that he had heard of me as +a likely buyer and would call on me in a day or two. In the meantime he +sent the book to give me full opportunity of examining it. + +“Nothing could be more straightforward, Mr Carrados. Two days later Mr +Winch walked into my place. We discussed the price, and finally we +agreed upon--well, a certain figure.” + +“You can rely upon my discretion, Mr Powis.” + +“I paid him £260.” + +“That would be a fair price in the circumstances?” + +“I thought so, Mr Carrados. I don’t say that it wasn’t a bargain, but it +wasn’t an outrageous bargain.” + +“You have occasionally done better?” smiled Carrados. + +“Frequently. If I buy a book for threepence and sell it again for a +shilling I do better, although it doesn’t sound so well. Of course I am +a dealer and I have to live on my profits and to pay for my bad bargains +with my good bargains. Now if I had had an immediate customer in view +the book might have been worth a good deal more to me. I may say that +Wednesday’s price at Gurnard’s surprised me. Prices have certainly been +going up, but only five years ago it would have required a practically +perfect copy to make that.” + +“At all events, Mr Winch accepted?” + +“I think I may say that he was perfectly satisfied,” amended Mr Powis. +“You see, Mr Carrados, he wanted the money at once, and, apart from the +uncertainty and expense, he could not have waited for an auction. I was +making out a cheque when he reminded me that his right hand was useless +and asked me to initial it to ‘bearer.’ That is why I come to have no +receipt.” + +“Yes,” assented Carrados. “Yes, that is it. How was the letter signed?” + +“It was typewritten, like the rest of it. You remember that his hand was +bad when he wrote.” + +“True. Did you notice the postmark--was it Fordridge?” + +“Yes; you should understand that Mr Winch posted on the book before he +left Fordridge for London.” It seemed to the visitor that Mr Carrados +was rather slow even for a blind man. + +“I think I am beginning to grasp the position,” said Carrados mildly. +“Of course you had no occasion to write to him at Fordridge?” + +“Nothing whatever. Besides, he was coming to London almost immediately. +If I wrote it was to be to the Fitzalan Hotel, off the Strand. Now here +is the book, Mr Carrados. You saw--you examined, that is, the auction +_Virginiola_?” + +“No, unfortunately I did not.” + +“I am sorry. You would now have recognised how immeasurably superior my +copy is, even apart from the missing pages.” + +“I can quite believe it.” He was turning over the leaves of the book, +which Mr Powis had passed to him. “But this writing on the dedication +page?” + +“Oh, that,” said the dealer carelessly. “Some former owner has written +his name there.” + +“I suppose it constitutes a blot?” + +“Why, yes, in a small way it does,” admitted Mr Powis. “Had it been ‘Wm. +Shakespeare,’ it would have added a thousand guineas; as it’s only ‘Wm. +Shoelack,’ it knocks two or three off.” + +“Possibly,” suggested Carrados, “it was this blemish that decided Sir +Roland Chargrave against the book?” + +“No, no,” insisted Mr Powis. “Someone has hinted something to him. I +don’t say that you are to blame, Mr Carrados, but a suspicion has been +created; it has got about.” + +“But Sir Roland is the one man whom it could not affect,” pointed out +Carrados. “He, at any rate, would know that this copy is unimpeachable, +because when the other was being stolen this was actually in his hands +and had been for--for how long?” + +“Five or six days; he kept it for about a week. And that no doubt is +true as a specific case; but a malicious rumour is wide, Mr Carrados. +So-and-so is unreliable; he deals in questionable property; better be +careful. It is enough. No, no; Mr Chatton said nothing about any +objection to the book, merely that Sir Roland had decided not to retain +it.” + +“Mr Chatton?” + +“He is the secretary or the librarian there. I have frequently done +business with him in the old baronet’s time. This man is a nephew who +succeeded only a few months ago. Well, Mr Carrados, I hope I have +convinced you that I came by this _Virginiola_ in a legitimate manner?” + +“Scarcely that.” + +“I haven’t!” exclaimed Mr Powis in blank astonishment. + +“I never doubted it. At the sale I happened to hear you remark to a +friend that you had recently bought a copy. My suggestion to Mr Ing was +merely to hint that, with your exceptional knowledge, your unique +experience, you would probably be able to put them on the right line as +to the disposal of the stolen copy and so on. An unfortunate +misunderstanding.” + +Mr Powis stared and then nodded several times with an expression of +acute resignation. + +“That old man is past work,” he remarked feelingly. “I might have saved +myself a journey. Well, I’ll go now, Mr Carrados.” + +“Not yet,” declared Carrados hospitably; “I am going to persuade you to +stay and lunch with me, Mr Powis. I want”--he was still fingering the +early pages of the _Virginiola_ with curious persistence--“I want you to +explain to me the way in which these interesting old books were bound.” + +With the departure of Mr Powis a few hours later Carrados might +reasonably conclude that he had heard the last of the _Virginiola_ +theft, for he was now satisfied that it would never reach publicity as a +police court case. But, willy-nilly, the thing pursued him. Mr Carlyle +was to have dined with him one evening in the following week. It was a +definite engagement, but during the day the inquiry agent telephoned his +friend to know what he should do. A young gentleman who had been giving +him some assistance in a case was thrown on his hands for the evening. + +“You are the most amiable of men, Max,” chirruped Mr Carlyle; “but, +really, I don’t like to ask----” + +“Bring him by all means,” assented the most amiable of men. “I expect +two or three others to turn up to-night.” So Mr Carlyle brought him. + +“Mr Chatton, Max.” + +An unobtrusive young man, whose face wore a perpetual expression of +docile willingness, shook hands with Carrados. Anything less like the +sleek, competent self-assurance of the conventional private secretary it +would be difficult to imagine. Mr Chatton’s manner was that of a +well-meaning man who habitually blundered from a too conscientious sense +of duty, knew it all along, and was pained at the inevitableness of the +recurring catastrophe. + +“I have just taken up a case that might interest you, Max,” said Mr +Carlyle, as the three of them stood together. “Simple enough, but it +involves a valuable old book that has been stolen. Gurnard’s called me +in”--and he proceeded to outline the particulars of the missing +_Virginiola_. + +“And you went down yourself to Gurnard’s to look into it, Mr Chatton?” +said Carrados, masking the species of admiration that he felt for his +new acquaintance. + +“Well, I don’t know about looking into it,” confessed Mr Chatton. “You +see, it doesn’t really concern Sir Roland at all now. But I thought that +I ought to offer them any information--a description or something of +that sort might be wanted--when I heard of their loss. Of course,” he +added, with a deepening of his habitual look of rueful perturbation, “we +can’t help it, but it’s very distressing to think of them losing so much +money over our affair.” + +“Not a bit of it, not a bit of it,” cried Mr Carlyle heartily. “It’s all +in the way of business and Gurnard’s won’t feel a touch like that. Very +good of you to take all the trouble you have, I say.” He turned his +beaming, self-confident eye towards his host to explain. “I happened to +meet Mr Chatton there this morning and ever since he has been helping me +to put about inquiries in likely quarters and so on. I haven’t any doubt +of pulling our man up in a week or two, unless it’s the work of a secret +bibliomaniac, and Gurnard’s don’t entertain that.” + +“Wednesday last, you say,” pondered Carrados. “Aren’t they rather late +in turning it over to you?” + +“Just what I complained of. Then it came out that they had been pinning +their faith to the advice of some officious idiot who happened to be +present at the sale. Nothing came of it, of course.” + +“They did not happen to mention the idiot’s name?” inquired Max +tentatively. + +“No. The old gentleman--Mr Ing--said that he had already got into hot +water once through doing that.” Mr Carlyle began to laugh in his hearty +way over a recollection of the incident. “Do you know what this genius’s +brilliant idea was? He put them on the track of a copy of this book that +had been recently sold to a dealer, assuming that it must necessarily be +the stolen copy. And so it had been recently sold, Max, but it happened +to be _before_ the other was stolen!” + +“Very amusing,” agreed Carrados. + +“Do you know, I can’t help thinking that I was somehow to blame for +that,” confessed Mr Chatton in a troubled voice. “You remember, I told +you----” + +“No, no,” protested Mr Carlyle encouragingly. “How could it be your +fault?” + +“Well, it’s very good of you to reassure me,” continued the young man, +relieved but not convinced. “But I really think I may have introduced a +confusing element. I should like Mr Carrados to judge.... When I learned +from Sir Roland that he intended sending this _Virginiola_ to Gurnard’s, +knowing that it was a valuable book, I saw the necessity of going over +it carefully with another copy--‘collating’ it is called--to find out +whether anything was missing. The British Museum doesn’t possess an +example, and in any case I could not well spare a day just then to come +to London for the purpose. So I wrote to a few dealers, rather, I am +afraid, giving them the impression that we wished to buy a copy. In this +way I got what I wanted sent up on approval and I was able to go through +the two thoroughly. At the moment I argued that my duty to my employer +justified the subterfuge, but I don’t know, I don’t know; I really +question whether it was quite legitimate.” + +“Oh, nonsense,” remonstrated Mr Carlyle, to whom the subtleties did not +appeal. “Rather a smart way of getting what you wanted in the +circumstances, don’t you think, Max?” + +Carrados paid a willing if equivocal tribute to the wider problem of Mr +Chatton’s brooding conscientiousness. + +“Very ingenious altogether,” he admitted. + + * * * * * + +Mr Carlyle did not pull his man up in a few weeks; in fact he never +reached him at all. For the key to the disappearance of the _Virginiola_ +he had to wait two years. He was at The Turrets one day when his host +was called away for a short time to see a man who had come on business. + +Carlyle had picked up a newspaper, when Carrados came back from the door +and opening one of the inner drawers of his desk threw out a long +envelope. + +“There,” he remarked as he went on again, “is something that may +interest you more.” + +He was quite right. The inquiry agent cut open the envelope that was +addressed to himself and read the following narrative:-- + + + In the year 1609 a seafaring gentleman called Somers--Sir George + Somers--was wrecked on an island in the Atlantic. This island--one of + a group--although destitute of human inhabitants, was overrun by pigs. + During the first part of their enforced residence there the + shipwrecked mariners were much concerned by unearthly shrieks and + wailings that filled the night. With the simple piety of the time + these were attributed to the activity of witches, imps and demons. In + fact, in addition to the varied appellations of Virginiola, + Bermoothes, Somers Islands, etc., the place was enticingly called “The + Ile of Divels.” + + In due course the castaways were rescued and returned to England. In + due course, also, there appeared a variety of printed accounts of + their adventures. (We are prone to think that the tendency is modern, + Louis, but it is not.) One of these coming into the hands of a + cynical, middle-aged playwright on the look-out for a new plot to + annex, was at once pressed into his scheme. Doubtless he saw behind + the shadowy “divels” the substantial outlines of the noisy “hogges.” + However, the idea was good enough for a background. He wrote his play + and called it _The Tempest_. + + This is the explanation offered to me of the high and increasing value + of rare early works on Bermuda. They can be classed among the + Shakespeariana. There is also another reason: they can be classed + among the Americana. + + About three hundred years later a certain young gentleman who combined + fairly expensive tastes with good commercial ability succeeded to a + title and its appendages. Among the latter were a mansion in + Rutlandshire, which he determined was too expensive, a library in + which he was not vastly interested, and a private secretary whose + services he continued to retain. + + One day about six months after his succession Sir Roland Chargrave + called in his secretary to receive instructions. + + “Look here, Chatton,” he said, “I have decided to let this place + furnished for a time. See Turvey about the value and then advertise it + for something more than he advises. It ought to bring in a decent + rental. Then there are some valuable things here that are no earthly + good to me. I’ll start with the library.” + + “You intend to dispose of the library, Sir Roland?” faltered the + secretary. + + “No. The library gives a certain distinction to a fellow and the + Chargraves have always had one. I’ll keep the library, but I’ll weed + out all the old stuff that will make high prices. Uncle Vernon left a + valuation list which appears to have been made out about ten years + ago. One book alone--_An Account of Virginiola_--he puts down at £300. + Then there are a dozen others that ought to bring another £200 among + them. I require £500 just now. Here is a list of the books I have + picked out. Send them off to Gurnard’s to be sold as soon as possible. + Don’t have my name catalogued. I don’t want it to be known that I’m + selling anything. That’s all.” + + The secretary withdrew with an accentuation of his unhappy manner. It + was very distressing to him, this dispersal of the family heirlooms. + It was also extremely inconvenient personally, because he had already + sold the _Virginiola_ himself only a week before. For he also had + expenses. Perhaps he had fallen into the hands of the Jews; perhaps it + was the Jewesses. At all events, like Sir Roland, he required money, + and again like Sir Roland, the _Virginiola_ had seemed the most + suitable method. He had quietly withdrawn the book about the time of + his former master’s death, and thus saved the new baronet quite an + item in duty. He had secured Sir Vernon’s valuation list and after six + months had concluded that he was safe. He had taken extraordinary + pains to cover his identity in selling the book and the old dotard + appeared to have made two lists and to have deposited one elsewhere! + + Like a wise man Mr Chatton set about discovering how he could retrieve + himself. He had had charge of the library and he knew that it was too + late to report the book as lost. In any case he would be dismissed; if + inquiry was made at that stage he would be prosecuted. From the depths + of his brooding melancholy Mr Chatton evolved a scheme. + + The first thing was to get back the _Virginiola_ a little before the + sale. By that time he had sent in the list, but not the books. + Doubtless he still had some of the illicit funds in hand. Now the + _Virginiola_ had been valued at £300 by old Sir Vernon, but if at the + sale it was discovered to be imperfect in an important detail then it + might realise only a fraction of that sum. There was also another + consideration. A name had been indelibly written on one of the early + pages, and if Mr Powis was not to recognise his property that page + must be temporarily removed. + + I think it was Chatton’s undoubted intention to buy back the book if + possible and run no further risk with it. What he had not taken into + account was the enormous rise in the value of this class of work. What + had been reasonably worth £300 ten years before, the market now + apprised at nearly double. Even the imperfect copy reached nearly the + original estimate and thereby Chatton’s first string failed. + + But this painstakingly conscientious young man had not been content to + risk all on a single chance. What form his second venture took it will + be unnecessary to recall to you. He calculated on the chances of the + saleroom, and he succeeded. The _Virginiola_ was recovered; the + abstracted sheet was cunningly replaced, probably certain erasable + marks that had been put in for fuller disguise were removed, and Mr + Powis received back his property with formal regrets. + + I anticipate an indignant question rising to your lips. I did not tell + you this before, Louis, because of one curious fact. The story is + entirely speculative on my part so far as demonstrable proof is + concerned. Chatton, who is rather a remarkable young man, did not + leave behind him one solitary shred of evidence that would stand + before a jury. Time and Mr Chatton’s future career can alone bring my + justification, but some day if we have the opportunity (I am + committing this to paper in case we should not) we will go over the + evidence together. In the meanwhile Gurnard’s can, as you said, stand + the loss. + + +Here the typewritten account ended, but at the foot of the last page +Carrados had pasted a newspaper cutting. From it Mr Carlyle learned that +“Vernon Howard, alias Digby Skeffington, etc., etc., whose real name was +said to be Chatton, well connected,” had, the week before, been +convicted, chiefly on the King’s evidence of a female accomplice, of +obtaining valuable jewellery under false pretences. Sentence had been +deferred, pending further inquiries. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + II + + The Disappearance of Marie Severe + + +“I wonder if you might happen to be interested in this case of Marie +Severe, Mr Carrados?” + +If Carrados’s eyes had been in the habit of expressing emotion they +would doubtless have twinkled as Inspector Beedel thus casually +introduced the subject of the Swanstead on Thames schoolgirl whose +inexplicable disappearance two weeks earlier had filled column upon +column of every newspaper with excited speculation until the sheer +impossibility of keeping the sensation going without a shred of actual +fact had relegated Marie Severe to the obscurity of an occasional +paragraph. + +“If you are concerned with it, I am sure that I shall be interested, +Inspector,” said the blind man encouragingly. “It is still being +followed, then?” + +“Why, yes, sir, I have it in hand, but as for following it--well, +‘following’ is perhaps scarcely the word now.” + +“Ah,” commented Carrados. “There was very little to follow, I remember.” + +“I don’t think that I’ve ever known a case of the kind with less, sir. +For all the trace she left, the girl might have melted out of existence, +and from that day to this, with the exception of that printed +communication received by the mother--you remember that, Mr +Carrados?--there hasn’t been a clue worth wasting so much as shoe +leather on.” + +“You have had plenty of hints all the same, I suppose?” + +Inspector Beedel threw out a gesture of mild despair. It conveyed the +patient exasperation of the conscientious and long-suffering man. + +“I should say that the case ‘took on’ remarkably, Mr Carrados. I doubt +if there has been a more popular sensation of its kind for years. Mind +you, I’m all in favour of publicity in the circumstances; the +photographs and description _may_ bring important facts to light, but +sometimes it’s a bit trying for those who have to do the work at our +end. ‘Seen in Northampton,’ ‘seen in Ealing,’ ‘heard of in West +Croydon,’ ‘girl answering to the description observed in the +waiting-room at Charing Cross,’ ‘suspicious-looking man with likely girl +noticed about the Victoria Dock, Hull,’ ‘seen and spoken to near +Chorley, Lancs,’ ‘caught sight of apparently struggling in a luxurious +motor car on the Portsmouth Road,’ ‘believed to have visited a Watford +picture palace’--they’ve all been gone into as carefully as though we +believed that each one was the real thing at last.” + +“And you haven’t, eh?” + +The Inspector looked round. He knew well enough that they were alone in +the study at The Turrets, but the action had become something of a +mannerism with him. + +“I don’t mind admitting to _you_, sir, that I’ve never had any other +opinion than that the father of the little girl went down that day and +got her away. Where she is now, and whether dead or alive, I can’t +pretend to say, but that he’s at the bottom of it I’m firmly convinced. +And what’s more,” he added with slow significance, “I _hope_ so.” + +“Why in particular?” inquired the other. + +Beedel felt in his breast-pocket, took out a formidable wallet, and from +among its multitudinous contents selected a cabinet photograph sheathed +in its protecting envelope of glazed transparent paper. + +“If you could make out anything of what this portrait shows, you’d +understand better what I mean, Mr Carrados,” he replied delicately. + +Carrados shook his head but nevertheless held out his hand for the +photograph. + +“No good, I’m afraid,” he confessed before he took it. “A print of this +sort is one of the few things that afford no graduation to the sense of +touch. No, no”--as he passed his finger-tips over the paper--“a +gelatino-chloride surface of mathematical uniformity, Inspector, and +nothing more. Now had it been the negative----” + +“I am sure that that could be procured if you wished to have it, Mr +Carrados. Anyway, I dare say that you’ve seen in some of the papers what +this young girl is like. She is ten years old and big--or at least +tall--for her age. This picture is the last taken--some time this +year--and I am told that it is just like her.” + +“How should you describe it, Inspector?” + +“I am not much good at that sort of thing,” said the large man with a +shy awkwardness, “but it makes as sweet a picture as ever I’ve seen. She +is very straight-set, and yet with a sort of gracefulness such as a +young wild animal might have. It’s a full-faced position, and she is +looking straight out at you with an expression that is partly serious +and partly amused, and as noble and gracious with it all as a young +princess might be. I have children of my own, Mr Carrados, and of course +I think they’re very nice and pretty, but this--this is quite a +different thing. Her hair is curly without being in separate curls, and +the description calls it black. Eyes dark brown with straight eyebrows, +complexion a sort of glowing brown, small regular teeth. Of course we +have a full description of what she was wearing and so forth.” + +“Yes, yes,” assented Carrados idly. “The Van Brown Studio, +Photographers, eh? These people are quite well off, then?” + +“Oh yes; very nice house and good position--Mrs Severe, that is to say. +You will remember that she obtained a divorce from her husband four or +five years ago. I’ve turned up the particulars and it wasn’t what you’d +call a bad case as things go, but the lady seemed determined, and in the +end Severe didn’t defend. She had five or six hundred a year of her own, +but he had nothing beyond his salary, and he threw his position up then, +and ever since he has been going steadily down. He’s almost on the last +rung now and picks up his living casual.” + +“What’s the case against him?” + +“Well, it scarcely amounts to a case as yet because there is no evidence +of his being seen with the child, nor is there anything to connect him +with her after the disappearance. Still, it is a working hypothesis. If +it was the act of a tramp or a maniac, experience goes to show that we +should have found her, dead or alive, by now. Mrs Severe is all for it +being her husband. Of course the decree gave her the custody of Marie. +Severe asked to be allowed to see her occasionally, and at first a +servant took the child to have tea with him once a month. That was at +his rooms. Then he asked to be met in one of the parks or at a gallery. +He hadn’t got so much as a room then, you see, sir. At last the servant +reported that he had grown so shabby as to shame her that the child +should be seen with him, though she did say that he was always sober and +very kind to Marie, bringing her a little toy or something even when he +didn’t seem to have sixpence for himself. After that the visits were +stopped altogether. Then about a month ago these two, husband and wife, +met accidentally in the street. Severe said that he hoped to be doing a +bit better soon, and asked for the visits to be continued. How it would +have gone I cannot say, but Mrs Severe happened to have a friend with +her, an American lady called Miss Julp, who seems to be living with her +now, and the middle-aged female--she’s a hard sister, that Cornelia +Julp, I should say--pushed her way into the conversation and gave her +views on his conduct until Severe must have had some trouble with his +hands. Finally Mrs Severe had an unfortunate impulse to end the +discussion by giving her husband a bank-note. She says she got the most +awful look she ever saw on any face. Then Severe very deliberately tore +up the note, dropped the pieces down a gutter grid that they were +standing near, dusted his fingers on his handkerchief, raised his hat +and walked away without another word. That was the last she saw of him, +but she professes to have been afraid of something happening ever +since.” + +“Then something happens, and so, of course, it must be Severe?” +suggested Carrados. + +“It does look a bit like that so far, I must admit, sir,” assented the +Inspector. “Still, Mrs Severe’s opinions aren’t quite all. Severe’s +account of his movements on the afternoon in question--say between +twelve-thirty and four in particular--are not satisfactory. Latterly he +has been occupying a miserable room off Red Lion Street. He went out at +twelve and returned about five--that he doesn’t deny. Says he spent the +time walking about the streets and in the Holborn news-room, but can +mention no one who saw him during those five hours. On the other hand, a +porter at Swanstead station identifies him as a passenger who alighted +there from the 1.17 that afternoon.” + +“From a newspaper likeness?” + +“In the first instance, Mr Carrados. Afterwards in person.” + +“Did they speak, or is it merely visual?” + +“Only from what he saw of him.” + +“Struck, I suppose, by the remarkable fact that the passenger wore a hat +and a tie--as shown in the picture; or inspired to notice him closely by +something indescribably suggestive in the passenger’s way of giving up +his ticket? It may be all right, Beedel, I admit, but I heartily +distrust the weight of importance that these casual identifications are +being given on vital points nowadays. Are you satisfied with this +yourself?” + +“Only as corroborative, sir. Until we find the girl or some trace of her +we’re bound to make casts in the hope of picking up a line. Well, then +there’s the letter Mrs Severe received.” + +“Have you that with you?” + +The Inspector took up the wallet that he had not yet returned to his +pocket and selected another enclosure. + +“It’s a very unusual form,” he commented as he handed the envelope to Mr +Carrados and waited for his opinion. + +The blind man passed his finger-tips across the paper and at once +understood the point of singularity. The lines were printed, but not in +consecutive form, every letter being on a little separate square of +paper. It was evident that they had been cut out from some other sheet +and then pasted on the envelope to form the address. + +“London, E.C., 5.30 P.M., 15th May,” read Carrados from the postmark. + +“The day of the kidnapping. There is a train from Swanstead arriving at +Lambeth Bridge at 4.47,” remarked Beedel. + +“What was your porter doing when that left?” + +“He was off duty, sir.” + +Carrados took out the enclosure and read it off as he had already done +the envelope, but with a more deliberative touch, for the print was +smaller. The type and the paper were suggestive of a newspaper origin. +In most cases whole words had been found available. + +“Do not be alarmed,” ran the patchwork message. “The girl is in good +hands. Only risk lies in pressing search. Wait and she will return +uninjured.” + +“You have identified the newspaper?” + +“Yes; it is all cut from _The Times_ of May the 13th. The printing on +the back of the words fixes it absolutely. Premeditated, Mr Carrados.” + +“The whole incident points to that. The date of the newspaper means +little, but the deliberate selection of words, the careful way they have +been cut out and aligned, taken in conjunction with the time the child +disappeared and the time that this was posted--yes, I think you may +assume premeditation, Inspector.” + +“Stationery of the commonest description; immediate return to London, +and the method of a man who used this print because he feared that under +any disguise his handwriting might be recognised.” + +Carrados nodded. + +“Severe cannot hope to retain the child, of course,” he remarked +casually. “What motive do you infer?” + +“Mrs Severe is convinced that it is to distress her, out of revenge.” + +“And this letter is to reassure her?” + +The Inspector bit his lip as he smiled at the quiet thrust. + +“It might also be to influence her towards suspending search,” he +suggested. + +“At all events I dare say that it has reassured her?” + +“In a certain way, yes, it has. It has enabled us to establish that the +act is not one of casual lust or vagabondage. There is an alternative +that we naturally did not suggest to her.” + +“And that is?” + +“Another Thelby Wood case, Mr Carrados. The maniacal infatuation of +someone who would be the last to be suspected. Some man of good +position, a friend and neighbour possibly, who sees this beautiful young +creature--the school friend of his own daughters or sitting before him +in church it may be--and becomes the slave of his diseased imagination +until he is prepared to risk everything for that one overpowering +object. A primitive man for the time, one may say, or, even worse, a +satyr or a gorilla.” + +“I wonder,” observed Carrados thoughtfully, “if you also have ever felt +that you would like to drop it and become a monk, Inspector. Or a +stylite on a pole.” + +Beedel laughed softly and then rubbed his chin in the same contemplative +spirit. + +“I think I know what you mean, sir,” he admitted. “It’s a black page. +But,” he added with wholesome philosophy, “after all, it _is_ only a +page in a longish book. And if I was in a monastery there’d be one or +two more things done that I’ve helped to keep undone.” + +“Including the cracking of my head, Inspector? Very true. We must take +the world as we find it and ourselves as we are. And I wish that I could +agree with you about Severe. It would be a more endurable outlook: spite +and revenge are at least decent human motives. Unfortunately, the only +hint I can offer is a negative one.” He indicated the printed cuttings +on the sheet that Beedel had submitted to him. “This photo-mountant +costs about sixpence a pot, but you can buy a bottle of gum for a +penny.” + +“Well, sir,” said Beedel, “I did think of having that examined, but I +waited for you to see the letter as it stood. After all, it didn’t +strike me as a point one could put much reliance on.” + +“Quite right,” assented Mr Carrados, “there is nothing personal or +definite in it. It may suggest a photographer, amateur or professional, +but it would be preposterous to assume so much from this alone. Severe, +even, may have----There are hundreds of chances. I should disregard it +for the moment.” + +“There is nothing more to be got from the letter?” + +“There may be, but it is rather elusive at present. What has been done +with it?” + +“I received it from Mrs Severe and it has been in my possession ever +since.” + +“You haven’t submitted it to a chemist for any purpose?” + +“No, sir. I gave a copy of the wording to some newspaper gentlemen, but +no one but myself has handled it.” + +“Very good. Now if you care to leave it with me for a few days----” + +Inspector Beedel expressed his immediate willingness and would have +added his tribute of obligation for Mr Carrados’s service, but the blind +man cut him short. + +“Don’t rely on anything, Inspector,” he warned him. “I am afraid that +this resolves itself into a game of chance. Just one touch of luck may +give us a winning point, or it may go the other way. In any case there +is no reason why I should not motor round by Swanstead one of these days +when I am out. If anything fresh turns up before you hear from me you +had better telephone me. Now exactly where did this happen?” + +The actual facts surrounding the disappearance of Marie Severe +constituted the real mystery of the case. Arling Avenue, Swanstead, was +one of those leisurely suburban roads where it is impossible to imagine +anything happening hurriedly from the delivery of an occasional telegram +to the activity of the local builder. Houses, detached houses each +surrounded by its rood or more of garden, had been built here and there +along its length at one time or another, but even the most modern one +had now become matured, and the vacant plots between them had reverted +from the condition of “eligible sites” into very passable fields of +buttercups and daisies again, so that Arling Avenue remained a pleasant +and exclusive thoroughfare. One side of the road was entirely unbuilt on +and afforded the prospect of a level meadow where hay was made and real +animals grazed in due season. The inhabitants of Arling Avenue never +failed to point out to visitors this evidence of undeniable rurality. It +even figured in the prospectus of Homewood, the Arling Avenue day school +for girls and little boys which the Misses Chibwell had carried on with +equal success and inconspicuousness until the Severe affair suddenly +brought them into the glare of a terrifying publicity. + +Mrs Severe’s house, The Hollies, was the first in the road, as the road +was generally regarded--that is to say, from the direction of the +station. Beedel picked up a loose sheet of paper and scored it heavily +with a plan of the neighbourhood as he explained the position with some +minuteness. Next to The Hollies came Arling Lodge. After Arling Lodge +there was one of the vacant plots of ground before the next house was +reached, but between the Lodge and the vacant plot was a broad grassy +opening, unfenced towards the road, and here the Inspector’s pencil +underlined the deepest significance, culminating in an ominous X about +the centre of the space. Originally the opening had doubtless marked the +projection of another road, but the scheme had come to nothing. +Occasionally a little band of exploring children with the fictitious +optimism of youth pecked among its rank and tangled growth in the +affectation of hoping to find blackberries there; once in a while a +passing chair-mender or travelling tinker regarded it favourably for the +scene of his midday siesta, but its only legitimate use seemed to be +that of affording access to the side door of Arling Lodge garden. The +Inspector pencilled in the garden door as an afterthought, with the +parenthesis that it was seldom used and always kept locked. Then he +followed out the Avenue as far as the school, indicating all the houses +and other features. The whole distance traversed did not exceed two +hundred yards. + +A few minutes before two o’clock on the afternoon of her disappearance +Marie Severe set out as usual for Miss Chibwell’s school. Since the +incident of the unfortunate encounter with her former husband Mrs Severe +had considered it necessary to exercise a peculiar vigilance over her +only child. Thenceforward Marie never went out alone; never, with the +exception of the short walk to school and back, that is to say, for in +that quiet straight road, in the full light of day, it was ridiculous to +imagine that anything could happen. It was ridiculous, but all the same +the vaguely uneasy woman generally walked to the garden gate with the +little girl and watched her until the diminished figure passed, with a +last gay wave of hand or satchel, out of her sight into the school-yard. + +“That’s how it would have been on this occasion,” narrated Beedel, “only +just as they got to the garden gate a tradesman whom Mrs Severe wanted +to speak with drove up and passed in by the back way. The lady looked +along the avenue, and as it happened at that moment Miss Chibwell was +standing in the road by her gate. No one else was in sight, so it isn’t +to be wondered at that Mrs Severe went back to the house immediately +without another thought. + +“That was the last that has been seen of Marie. As a matter of fact, +Miss Chibwell turned back into her garden almost as soon as Mrs Severe +did. When the child did not appear for the afternoon school the mistress +thought nothing of it. She is a little short-sighted and although she +had seen the two at their gate she concluded that they were going out +together somewhere. Consequently it was not until four o’clock, when +Marie did not return home, that the alarm was raised.” + +Continuous narration was not congenial to Inspector Beedel’s mental +attitude. He made frequent pauses as though to invite cross-examination. +Sometimes Carrados ignored the opening, at others he found it more +convenient to comply. + +“The inference is that someone was waiting in this space just beyond +Arling Lodge?” he now contributed. + +“I think it is reasonable to assume that, sir. Premeditated, we both +admit. Doubtless a favourable opportunity was being looked for and there +it was. At all events there”--he tapped the X as the paper lay beneath +Carrados’s hand--“there is the very last trace that we can rely on.” + +“The scent, you mean?” + +“Yes, Mr Carrados. We got one of our dogs down the next morning and put +him on the trail. We gave him the scent of a boot and from the gate he +brought us without a pause to where I have marked this X. There the line +ended. There can be no doubt that from that point the girl had been +picked up and carried. That is a very remarkable thing. It could +scarcely have been done openly past the houses. The fences on all sides +are of such a nature that it is incredible for any man to have got an +unwilling or insensible burden of that sort over without at least laying +it down in the process. If our dog is to be trusted, it wasn’t laid +down. Some sort of a vehicle remains. We find no recent wheel-marks and +no one seems to have seen anything that would answer about at that +time.” + +“You are determined to mystify me, Inspector,” smiled Carrados. + +“I’m that way myself, sir,” said the detective. + +“And I know you too well to ask if you have done this and that----” + +“I’ve done everything,” admitted Beedel modestly. + +“Is this X spot commanded by any of the houses? Here is Arling +Lodge----” + +“There is one window overlooking, but now the trees are too much out for +anything to be seen. Besides, it’s only a passage window. Dr Ellerslie +took me up there himself to settle the point.” + +“Ellerslie--Dr Ellerslie?” + +“The gentleman who lives there. At least he doesn’t live altogether +there, as I understand that he has it for a week-end place. Boating, I +believe, sir. His regular practice is in town.” + +“Harley Street? Prescott Ellerslie, do you know?” + +“That is the same, Mr Carrados.” + +“Oh, a very well-known man. He has a great reputation as an operator for +peritonitis. Nothing less than fifty guineas a time, Inspector.” Perhaps +the fee did not greatly impress Mr Carrados, but he doubtless judged +that it would interest Inspector Beedel. “And this house on the other +side--Lyncote?” + +“A retired Indian army colonel lives there--Colonel Doige.” + +“I mean as regards overlooking the spot.” + +“No; it is quite cut off from there. It cannot be seen.” + +Carrados’s interpreting finger stopped lightly over a detail of the plan +that it was again exploring. The Inspector’s pencil had now added a line +of dots leading from The Hollies gate to the X. + +“The line the dog took,” Beedel explained, following the other’s +movement. “You notice that the girl turned sharply out of the avenue +into this opening at right angles.” + +“I was just considering that.” + +“Something took her attention suddenly or someone called her there--I +wonder what, Mr Carrados.” + +“I wonder,” echoed the blind man, raising the anonymous letter to his +face again. + +Mr Carrados frequently professed to find inspiration in the surroundings +of light and brilliance to which his physical sense was dead, but when +he wished to go about his work with everyone else at a notable +disadvantage he not unnaturally chose the dark. It was therefore night +when, in accordance with his promise to Beedel, he motored round by +Swanstead, or, more exactly, it was morning, for the clock in the square +ivied tower of the parish church struck two as the car switchbacked over +the humped bridge from Middlesex into Surrey. + +“This will do, Harris; wait here,” he said a little later. He knew that +there were trees above and wide open spaces on both sides. The station +lay just beyond, and from the station to Arling Avenue was a negligible +step. Even at that hour Arling Avenue might have been awake to the +intrusion of an alien car of rather noticeable proportions. + +The adaptable Harris picked out Mr Carrados’s most substantial rug and +went to sleep, to dream of a wayside cycle shop and tea-rooms where he +could devote himself to pedigree Wyandottes. With Parkinson at his elbow +Carrados walked slowly on to Arling Avenue. What was lacking on Beedel’s +plan Parkinson’s eyes supplied; on a subtler plane, in the moist, warm +night, full of quiet sounds and earthy odours, other details were filled +in like the work of a lightning cartoonist before the blind man’s +understanding. + +They walked the length of the avenue once and then returned to the +grassy opening where the last trace of Marie Severe had evaporated. + +“I will stay here. You walk on back to the highroad and wait for me. I +may be some time. If I want you, you will hear the whistle.” + +“Very good, sir.” Parkinson knew of old that there were times when his +master would have no human eye upon him as he went about his work, and +with a magnificent stolidity the man had not a particle of curiosity. It +did not even occur to him to wonder. But for nearly half-an-hour the +more inquiring creatures of the night looked down--or up, according to +their natures--to observe the strange attitudes and quiet persistence of +the disturber of the solitude as he crossed and recrossed their little +domain, studied its boundaries, and explored every corner of its +miniature thickets. A single petal picked up near the locked door to the +garden of Arling Lodge seemed a small return for such perseverance, but +it is to be presumed that the patient search had not been in vain, for +it was immediately after the discovery that Carrados left the opening, +and with the cool effrontery that marked his methods he opened the front +gate of Dr Ellerslie’s garden and made his way with slow but unerring +insight along the boundary wall. + +“A blind man,” he had once replied to Mr Carlyle’s nervous +remonstrance--“a blind man carries on his face a sufficient excuse for +every indiscretion.” + +It was nearly three o’clock when, by the light of the street lamp at the +corner of the avenue and the highroad, Parkinson saw his master +approaching. But to the patient and excellent servitor’s disappointment +Carrados at that moment turned back and retraced his steps in the same +leisurely manner. As a matter of fact, a new consideration had occurred +to the blind man and he continued to pace up and down the footpath as he +considered it. + +“Oh, sir!” + +He stopped at once, but betraying no surprise, without the start which +few can restrain when addressed suddenly in the dark. It was always dark +to him, but was it ever sudden? Was he indeed ignorant of the obscure +figure that had appeared at the gate during his perambulation? + +“I have seen you walking up and down at this hour and I wondered--I +wondered whether you had any news.” + +“Who are you?” he asked. + +“I am Mrs Severe. My little girl Marie disappeared from here two weeks +ago. You must surely know about it; everybody does.” + +“Yes, I know,” he admitted. “Inspector Beedel told me.” + +“Oh, Inspector Beedel!” There was obvious disappointment in her voice. +“He is very kind and promises--but nothing comes of it, and the days go +on, the days go on,” she repeated tragically. + +“Ida! Ida!” Someone was calling from one of the upper windows, but +Carrados was speaking also and Mrs Severe merely waved her hand back +towards the house without responding. + +“Your little girl was very fond of flowers?” + +“Oh yes, indeed.” The pleasant recollection dwarfed the poor lady’s +present sense of calamity and for a moment she was quite bright. “She +loved them. She would bury her face in a bunch of flowers and drink +their scent. She almost lived in the garden. They were more to her than +toys or dolls, I am sure. But how do you know?” + +“I only guessed.” + +“Ida! Ida!” The rather insistent, nasally querulous voice was raised +again and this time Mrs Severe replied. + +“Yes, dear, immediately,” she called back, still lingering, however, to +discover whether she had anything to hope from this outlandish visitant. + +“Had Marie been ill recently?” Carrados detained her with the question. + +“Ill! Oh no.” The reply was instant and emphatic. It was almost--if one +could credit a mother’s pride in her child’s health being carried to +such a length--it was almost resentful. + +“Nothing that required the services of a doctor?” + +“Marie never requires the services of a doctor.” The tone, distant and +constrained, made it clear that Mrs Severe had given up any expectations +in this quarter. “My child, I am glad to say, does not know what illness +means,” she added deliberately. + +“Ida! Oh, here you are.” The very unromantically accoutred form of a +keen-visaged, middle-aged female, padding heavily in bedroom slippers +along the garden walk, gave its quietus to the situation. “What a scare +you gave me, dearie. Why, whoever----” + +“Good-night,” said Mrs Severe, turning from the gate. + +Carrados raised his hat and resumed his interrupted stroll. He had not +sought the interview and he made no effort to prolong it, for there was +little to be got from that source. + +“A strange flare of maternal pride,” he remarked in his usual detached +fashion as he rejoined Parkinson. + +About five o’clock on the same day--five o’clock in the afternoon, let +it be understood--Inspector Beedel was called to the telephone. + +“Oh, nothing fresh so far, Mr Carrados,” he reported when he identified +his caller. “I shan’t forget to let you know whenever there is.” + +“But I think that possibly there is,” replied Mr Carrados. “Or at least +there might be if you went down to Arling Lodge and insisted on seeing +the child who slept there last night.” + +“Arling Lodge? Dr Ellerslie’s? You don’t mean to say, sir----” + +“That is for you to satisfy yourself. Dr Ellerslie is a widower with no +children. Marie Severe was drugged by phronolal on some flowers which +she was given. Phronolal is a new anæsthetic which is practically +unknown outside medical circles. She was carried into the garden of +Arling Lodge and into the house. The bunch of flowers was thrown down +temporarily inside the wall, probably while the door was relocked. The +girl’s hair caught on a raspberry cane six yards from the back door +along the path leading there. Ellerslie had previously sent away the two +people who look after the place--a housekeeper and her husband who sees +to the garden. That letter, by the way, was associable with phronolal. +Now you have all that I know, Inspector, and I hope to goodness that I +am clear of it.” + +“But, good heavens, Mr Carrados, this is really terrible!” protested +Beedel, moved to emotion in spite of his rich experience of questionable +humanity. “A man in his position! Is he a maniac?” + +“I don’t know. To tell you frankly, Inspector, I haven’t gone an inch +further than I was compelled to go in order to be sure. Make use of the +information as you like, but I don’t want to have anything more to do +with the case. It isn’t a pleasant thing to have pulled down a man like +Ellerslie--a callous, exacting machine in the operating-room, one hears, +but a man who was doing fine work--saving useful lives every day. I’m +sick of it, Beedel, that’s all.” + +“I understand, sir. Still, there’s the other side, isn’t there, after +all? Of course I’ll keep your name out of it as you wish, but I shall be +given a good deal of credit that I oughtn’t to accept. If you don’t do +anything for a few weeks the papers are always more complimentary when +you do do it.” + +“I’m afraid that you will have to put up with that,” replied Carrados +drily. + +There was an acquiescent laugh from the other end and a reference to the +speaker’s indebtedness. Then: “Well, I’ll get the necessary authority +and go down at once, sir.” + +“Yes. Good-bye,” said Carrados. He hung up the receiver with the only +satisfaction that he had experienced since he had fixed on +Ellerslie--satisfaction to have done with it. The thing was unpalatable +enough in itself, and to add another element of distaste, through one or +two circumstances that had come his way in the past, he had an actual +regard for the surgeon whom some called brutal, but who was universally +admitted to be splendidly efficient. It would have been a much more +congenial business to the blind man to clear him than to implicate. He +betook himself to a tray of Sicilian coins of the autonomous period to +get the taste out of his mouth and swore that he would not read a word +of any stage of the proceedings. + +“A Mr Severe wishes to see you, sir.” + +So it happened that about an hour after he had definitely shelved his +interest in the case Max Carrados was again drawn into its +complications. Had Severe been merely a well-to-do suppliant, perhaps +... but the blind man had enough of the vagabond spirit to ensure his +sympathy towards one whom he knew, on the contrary, to be extremely +ill-to-do. In a flash of imagination he saw the outcast walking from Red +Lion Street to Richmond, and, denied admission, from Richmond back to +Red Lion Street again, because he hadn’t sixpence to squander, the man +who always bought a little toy.... + +“It is nearly seven, isn’t it, Parkinson? Mr Severe will stay and dine +with me,” were almost the first words the visitor heard. + +“Very well, sir.” + +“I? Dine?” interposed Severe quickly. “No, no. I really----” + +“If you will be so good as to keep me company,” said Carrados with suave +determination. Parkinson retired, knowing that the thing was settled. “I +am quite alone, Mr Severe, and my selfishness takes that form. If a man +calls on me about breakfast-time he must stay to breakfast, at +lunch-time to lunch, and so on.” + +“Your friends, doubtless,” suggested Severe with latent bitterness. + +“Well, I am inclined to describe anyone who will lighten my darkness for +an hour as a friend. You would yourself in the circumstances, you know.” +And then, quite unconsciously, under this treatment the years of +degradation suddenly slipped from Severe and he found himself accepting +the invitation in the conventional phrases and talking to his host just +as though they were two men of the same world in the old times. Guessing +what had brought him, and knowing that it mattered little or nothing +then, Carrados kept his guest clear of the subject of the disappearance +until they were alone again after dinner. Then, to be denied no longer, +Severe tackled it with a blunt inquiry: + +“Scotland Yard has been consulting you about Marie, Mr Carrados?” + +“Surely that is not in the papers?” + +“I don’t know,” replied Severe, “but they aren’t my authority. Among the +people I have mostly to do with many shrewd bits of information +circulate that never get into the Press. Sometimes they are mere +bead-work, of course, but quite often they have ground. Just at present +I am something of a celebrity in my usual haunts--I am ‘Jones’ in town, +by the way, but my identity has come out--and everything to do with the +notorious Severe affair comes round to me. I hear that Inspector Beedel, +who has the case in hand, has just been to see you. Your co-operation is +inferred.” + +“And if so?” queried Carrados. + +“If so,” continued his visitor, “I have a word to say. Beedel got it +into his thick, unimaginative skull that I must be the kidnapper +because, on the orthodox ‘motive’ lines, he couldn’t fix on anyone else. +As a matter of fact, Mr Carrados, I have rather too much affection for +my little daughter to have taken her out of a comfortable home. My +unfortunate wife may have her faults--I don’t mind admitting that she +has--serious faults and a great many of them, but she would at least +give Marie decent surroundings. When I heard of the child’s +disappearance--it was in the early evening papers the next morning--I +was distracted. I dreaded every edition to see a placard announcing that +the body had been found and to read the usual horrible details of insane +or bestial outrage. I searched my pockets and found a shilling and a few +coppers. Without any clear idea of what I expected to do, I tore off to +the station and spent my money on a third single to Swanstead.” + +“Oh,” interposed Carrados, “the 1.17 arrival?” + +Severe laughed contemptuously. + +“The station porter, you mean?” he said. “Yes; that bright youth merely +predated his experience by twenty-four hours when he saw that there was +bunce in it a few days later. Oh, I dare say he really thought it then. +As for me, before I had got to Swanstead I had realised my mistake. What +could I do in any case? Nothing that the least efficient local bobby +could not do much better. Least of all did I wish to meet Ida--Mrs +Severe. No; I walked out of the station, turned to the right instead of +the left and padded back to town.” + +“And you have come now, a fortnight or more after, to tell me this, Mr +Severe?” + +“Well, I have come to have small hopes of Beedel. At first I didn’t care +two straws what they thought, expecting every hour to hear the worst. +But that may not have happened. Two weeks have passed without anything +being found, so that the child may be alive somewhere. If you are taking +it up there is a chance--provided only that you don’t let them obsess +you with the idea that I have had anything to do with it.” + +“I don’t imagine that you have had anything to do with it, Mr Severe, +and I believe that Marie is still alive.” + +“Thank God for that,” said Severe with sudden intensity. “I am very, +very glad to hear you express that opinion, Mr Carrados. I don’t suppose +that I shall see much of the girl as time goes on or that she will be +taught to regard the Fifth Commandment very seriously. All the same, the +relief of hearing that makes me your debtor for ever.... Anxious as I +am, I will be content with that. I won’t worry you for your clues or +your ideas ... but I will tell you one thing. It may amuse you. _My_ +notion, a few days ago, of what might have happened----” + +“Yes?” encouraged his host. + +“It shows you the wild ideas one gets in such circumstances. My former +wife is, if I may be permitted to say so, the most amiable and devoted +creature in the world. Subject to that, I will readily concede that a +more self-opinionated, credulous, dogmatically wrong-headed and +crank-ridden woman does not exist. There isn’t a silly fad that she +hasn’t taken up--and what’s more tragic, absolutely believed in for the +time--from ozonised milk to rhythmic yawning. Some time ago she was +swept into Christian Science. An atrocious harpy called Julp--a +professional ‘healer’--fastened on her and has dominated her ever since. +Well, fantastic as it seems now, I was actually prepared to believe that +Marie had been ill and under their really sincere but grotesque +‘healing’ had died. Then to hide the failure of their creed or because +they got panic-stricken----” + +Then Carrados interrupted, an incivility he rarely committed. + +“Yes, yes, I see,” he said quickly. “But your daughter never is ill?” + +“Never ill? Marie? Oh, isn’t she! In the past six months I’ve----” + +“But Mrs Severe deliberately said--her words--that Marie ‘does not know +what illness means.’” + +“That’s their jargon. They hold that illness does not exist and so it +has no meaning. But I should describe Marie as a delicate child on the +whole--bilious attacks and so on.” + +“Christian Scientists ... gastric trouble ... Prescott Ellerslie? Good +heavens! This comes of half doing a thing,” muttered Carrados. + +“Nothing wrong, I hope?” ventured the visitor. + +“Wait.” Severe wondered what the deuce turn the business was taking, but +there being no incentive to do anything else, he waited. Coffee, rather +more fragrant than that purveyed at the nocturnal stall, and fat +Egyptian cigarettes of a subtle aroma somehow failed nevertheless to +make the time pass quickly. Yet five minutes would have covered +Carrados’s absence. + +“Nothing wrong, but an unfortunate oversight,” he remarked when he +returned. “I was too late to catch Beedel, so we must try to mend +matters at the other end if we can. I shall have to ask you to go with +me. I have ordered the car and I can tell you how we stand on the way.” + +“I shall be glad if you can make any use of me,” said Severe. + +“I hope that I may. And as for anything being wrong,” added Carrados +with deliberation, “so far as Marie is concerned I think we may find +that the one thing necessary for her future welfare has been achieved.” + +“That’s all I ask,” said Severe. + +“But it isn’t all that I ask,” retorted the blind man almost sharply. + +This time there was nothing clandestine about the visit to Arling +Avenue. On the contrary, the pace they kept up made it necessary that +the horn should give pretty continuous notice of their presence. If it +was a race, however, they had the satisfaction of being successful: the +manner--more suggestive of the trained nurse than the domestic +servant--of the maid who came to the door of Arling Lodge made it clear +to Carrados, apart from any other indication, that the catastrophe of +Beedel’s arrival had not yet been launched. When the young person at the +door began conscientiously, but with obvious inexperience, to +prevaricate with the truth, the caller merely accepted her statements +and wrote a few words on his card. + +“When Dr Ellerslie does return, will you please give him this at once?” +he said. “I will wait.” + +It is to be inferred that the great specialist’s return had been +providentially timed, for Carrados was scarcely seated when Prescott +Ellerslie hurried into the room with the visiting-card in his hand. + +“Mr Carrados?” he postulated. “Will you please explain this rather +unusually worded request for an interview?” + +“Certainly I will,” replied Carrados. “The wording is prompted by the +necessity of compelling your immediate attention. The interview is the +outcome of my desire to be of use to you.” + +“Thank you,” said Ellerslie with non-committal courtesy. “And the +occasion?” + +“The occasion is the impending visit of Inspector Beedel from Scotland +Yard, not, this time, to look out of your landing window, but to demand +the surrender of the missing Marie Severe and, if you deny any knowledge +of her, armed with authority to search your house.” + +“Oh,” replied the doctor with astonishing composure. “And if the +situation develops on the lines which you have so pointedly indicated, +how do you propose to help me?” + +“That depends a little on your explanation of the circumstances.” + +“Surely between Mr Carrados and Scotland Yard there is nothing that +remains to be explained!” + +“Mr Carrados can only speak for himself,” replied the blind man with +unmoved good humour. “And in his case there are several things to be +explained. There is probably not a great deal of time before the +Inspector’s arrival, but there may be enough if you are disposed----” + +“Very well,” acquiesced Ellerslie. “You are quite right in assuming +Marie Severe to be in this house. I had her brought here ... out of +revenge, to redress an old and very grievous injury. Perhaps you had +guessed that?” + +“Not in those terms,” said Carrados mildly. + +“Yet so it was. Ten years ago a very sweet and precious little child, my +only daughter, was wantonly done to death by an ignorant and credulous +woman who had charge of her, in the tenets of her faith. It is called +Christian Science. The opportunity was put before me and to-day I stand +convicted of having outraged every social and legal form by snatching +Marie Severe from just that same fate.” + +Carrados nodded gravely. + +“Yes,” he assented. “That is the thing I missed.” + +“I used to see her on her way to school, whenever I was here,” went on +the doctor wistfully, “and soon I came to watch for her and to know the +times at which she ought to pass. She was of all living creatures the +gayest and the most vivid, glowing and vibrant with the compelling joy +of life, a little being of wonderful grace, delicacy and charm. She had, +I found when I came to know her somewhat, that distinction of manner +which one is prone to associate unreasonably only with the children of +the great and wealthy--a young nobility. In much she reminded me +constantly of my own lost child; in other ways she attracted me by her +diversity. Such, Mr Carrados, was the nature of my interest in Marie +Severe. + +“I don’t know the Severes and I have never even spoken to the mother. I +believe that she has only lived here about a year, and in any case I +have no concern in the social life of Swanstead. But a few months ago my +worthy old housekeeper struck up an acquaintance with one of Mrs +Severe’s servants, a staid, middle-aged person who had gone into the +family as Marie’s nurse. The friendship begun down our respective +gardens--they adjoin--developed to the stage of these two dames taking +tea occasionally with one another. My Mrs Glass is a garrulous old +woman. Hitherto my difficulty had often been to keep her quiet. Now I +let her talk and deftly steered the conversation. I learned that my +neighbours were Christian Scientists and had a so-called ‘healer’ living +with them. The information struck me with a sudden dread. + +“‘I suppose they are never ill, then?’ I inquired carelessly. + +“Mrs Severe had not been ill since she had embraced Christian Science, +and Miss Julp was described in a phrase obviously of her own importing +as being ‘all selvage.’ The servants were allowed to see a doctor if +they wished, although they were strongly pressed to have done with such +‘trickery’ in dispelling a mere ‘illusion.’ + +“‘And isn’t there a child?’ I asked. + +“Marie, it appeared, had from time to time suffered from the ‘illusion’ +that she had not felt well--had suffered pain. Under Miss Julp’s +spiritual treatment the ‘hallucination’ had been dispelled. Mrs Glass +had laughed, looked very knowing and then given her friend away in her +appreciation of the joke. The faithful nurse had accepted the situation +and as soon as her mistress’s back was turned had doctored Marie +according to her own simple notions. Under this double influence the +child had always picked up again, but the two women had ominously +speculated what would happen if she fell ‘really ill.’ I led her on to +details of the sicknesses--their symptoms, frequency and so on. It was a +congenial topic between the motherly old creature and the nurse and I +could not have had a better medium. I learned a good deal from her +chatter. It did not reassure me. + +“From that time, without allowing my interest to appear, I sought better +opportunities to see the child. I inspired Mrs Glass to suggest to the +nurse that Miss Marie might come and explore the garden here--it is a +large and tangled place, such as an adventuring child would love to roam +in, and this one, as I found, was passionately fond of flowers and +growing things and birds and little animals. I got a pair of tame +squirrels and turned them loose here. You can guess her enchantment when +she discovered them. I went out with nuts for her to give them and we +were friends at once. All the time I was examining her without her +knowledge. I don’t suppose it ever occurred to her that I might be a +doctor. The result practically confirmed the growing suspicion that +everything I had heard pointed to. And the tragic irony of the situation +was that it had been appendicitis that my child--_my_ child--had +perished from!” + +“Oh, so this was appendicitis, then?” + +“Yes. It was appendicitis of that insidious and misleading type to which +children are particularly liable. These apparently negligible turns at +intervals of weeks were really inflammation of the appendix and the +condition was inevitably passing into one of general suppurative +peritonitis. Very soon there would come another ‘illusion’ according to +the mother and Miss Julp, another ‘bilious turn’ according to the nurse, +similar to those already experienced, but apparently more obstinate. The +Christian Scientists would argue with it, Hannah would surreptitiously +dose it. This time, however, it would hang on. Still there would be no +really very alarming symptoms to wring the natural affection of the +mother, nothing severe enough to drive the nurse into mutiny. The pulse +running at about 140 would be the last thing they would notice.” + +“And then?” Ellerslie was pacing the room in savage indignation, but +Carrados had Beedel’s impending visit continually before him. + +“Then she would be dead. Quite suddenly and unceremoniously this fair +young life, which in ten minutes I could render immune from this danger +for all the future, would go clean out--extinguished to demonstrate that +appendicitis does not exist and that Mind is All in All. If my diagnosis +was correct there could be no appeal, no shockful realisation of the +true position to give the mother a chance. It would be inevitable, but +it would be quite unlooked for. + +“What was I to do, should you say, Mr Carrados, in this emergency? I had +dealt with these fanatics before and I knew that if I took so unusual a +course as to go to Mrs Severe I should at the best be met by polite +incredulity and a text from Mrs Mary Baker Eddy’s immortal work. And by +doing that I should have made any other line of action risky, if not +impossible. You, I believe, are a humane man. What was I to do?” + +“What you did do,” said his visitor, “was about the most dangerous thing +that a doctor could be mixed up in.” + +“Oh no,” replied Ellerslie, “he does a much more dangerous thing +whenever he operates on a septiferous subject, whenever he enters a +fever-stricken house. To career and reputation, you would say; but, +believe me, Mr Carrados, life is quite as important as livelihood, and +every doctor does that sort of thing every day. Well, like many very +ordinary men whom you may meet, I am something of a maniac and something +of a mystic. Incredible as it will doubtless seem to the world +to-morrow, I found that, at the risk of my professional career, at the +risk, possibly, of a criminal conviction, the greatest thing that I +should ever do would be to save this one exquisite young life. Elsewhere +other men just as good could take my place, but here it was I and I +alone.” + +“Well, you did it?” prompted Carrados. “I must remind you that the time +presses and I want to know the facts.” + +“Yes, I did it. I won’t delay with the precautions I had taken in +securing the child or with the scheme that I had worked out for +returning her. I believed that I had a very good chance of coming +through undiscovered and I infer that I have to thank you that I did +not. Marie has not the slightest idea where she is and when I go into +the room I am sufficiently disguised. She thinks that she has had an +accident.” + +“Of course you must have had assistance?” + +“I have had the devoted help of an assistant and two nurses, but the +whole responsibility is mine. I managed to send off Mrs Glass and her +husband for a holiday so as to keep them out of it. That was after I had +decided upon the operation. To justify what I was about to do there had +to be no mistake about the necessity. I contrived a final test. + +“Less than three weeks ago I saw Hannah and the little girl come to the +house one afternoon. Shortly afterwards Mrs Glass knocked at my door. +Could she ask Hannah to tea and, as Mrs Severe and her friend were being +out until late, might Miss Marie also stay? There was, as she knew, no +need for her to ask me, but my housekeeper is primitive in her ideas of +duty. Of course I readily assented, but I suggested that Marie should +have tea with me; and so it was arranged. + +“Before tea she amused herself about the garden. I told her to gather me +a bunch of flowers and when she came in with them I noticed that she had +scratched her arm with a thorn. I hurried through the meal, for I had +then determined what to do. When we had finished, without ringing the +bell, I gave her a chair in front of the fire and sat down opposite her. +There was a true story about a clever goose that I had promised her. + +“‘But you are going to sleep, Marie,’ I said, looking at her fixedly. +‘It is the heat of the fire.’ + +“‘I think I must be,’ she admitted drowsily. ‘Oh, how silly. I can +scarcely keep my eyes open.’ + +“‘You are going to sleep,’ I repeated. ‘You are very, very tired.’ I +raised my hand and moved it slowly before her face. ‘You can hardly see +my hand now. Your eyes are closed. When I stop speaking you will be +asleep.’ I dropped my hand and she was fast asleep. + +“I had made my arrangements and had everything ready. From her arm, +where the puncture of the needle was masked by the scratch, I secured a +few drops of blood. Then I applied a simple styptic to the place and +verified by a more leisurely examination some of the symptoms I had +already looked for. When I woke her, a few minutes later, she had no +inkling of what had passed. + +“‘Why,’ I was saying as she awakened, ‘I don’t believe that you have +heard a word about old Solomon!’ + +“I applied the various laboratory tests to the blood which I had +obtained without delay. The result, taken in conjunction with the other +symptoms, was conclusive. I was resolved upon my course from that +moment. The operation itself was simple and completely successful. The +condition demonstrated the pressing necessity for what I did. Marie +Severe will probably outlive her mother now--especially if the lady +remains faithful to Christian Science. As for the sequel ... I am sorry, +but I don’t regret.” + + * * * * * + +“A surprise, eh, Inspector?” + +Inspector Beedel, accompanied by Mrs Severe and--if the comparative +degree may be used to indicate her relative importance--even more +accompanied by Miss Julp, had arrived at Arling Lodge and been given +immediate admission. It was Carrados who thus greeted him. + +Beedel looked at his friend and then at Dr Ellerslie. With unconscious +habit he even noticed the proportions of the room, the position of the +door and window, and the chief articles of furniture. His mind moved +rather slowly, but always logically, and in cases where “sound +intelligence” sufficed he was rarely unsuccessful. He had brought Mrs +Severe to identify Marie, whom he had never seen, and his men remained +outside within whistle-call in case of any emergency. He now saw that he +might have to shift his ground and he at once proceeded cautiously. + +“Well, sir,” he admitted, “I did not expect to see you here.” + +“Nor did I anticipate coming. Mrs Severe”--he bowed to her--“I think +that we have already met informally. Your friend, Miss Julp, unless I am +mistaken? It is a good thing that we are all here.” + +“That is my name, sir,” struck in the recalcitrant Cornelia, “but I am +not aware----” + +“At the gate early--very early--this morning, Miss Julp. I recognise +your step. But accept my assurance, my dear lady”--for Miss Julp had +given a start of maidenly confusion at the recollection--“that although +I heard, I did _not_ see you. Well, Inspector, I have since found that I +misled you. The mistake was mine--a fundamental error. You were right. +Mrs Severe was right. Dr Ellerslie is unassailably right. I speak for +him because it was I who fastened an unsupportable motive on his +actions. Marie Severe is in this house, but she was received here by Dr +Ellerslie in his professional capacity and strictly in the relation of +doctor and patient.... Mr Severe has at length admitted that he alone is +to blame. You see, you were right after all.” + +“Arthur! Oh!” exclaimed Mrs Severe, deeply moved. + +“But why,” demanded the other lady hostilely, “why should the man want +her here?” + +“Mr Severe was apprehensive on account of his daughter’s health,” +replied Carrados gravely. “His story is that, fearing something serious, +he submitted her to this eminent specialist, who found a dangerous--a +critical--condition that could only be removed by immediate operation. +Dr Ellerslie has saved your daughter’s life, Mrs Severe.” + +“Fiddlesticks!” shouted Miss Julp excitedly. “It’s an outrage--a +criminal outrage. An operation! There was no danger--there couldn’t be +with _me_ at hand. You’ve done it this time, _Doctor_ Ellerslie. My +gosh, but this will be a case!” + +Mrs Severe sank into a chair, pale and trembling. + +“I can scarcely believe it,” she managed to say. “It is a crime. Dr +Ellerslie--no doctor had the right. Mr Severe has no authority whatever. +The court gave me sole control of Marie.” + +“Excuse me,” put in Carrados with the blandness of perfect self-control +and cognisance of his point, “excuse me, but have you ever informed Dr +Ellerslie of that ruling?” + +“No,” admitted Mrs Severe with faint surprise. “No. Why should I?” + +“Quite so. Why should you? But have you any knowledge that Dr Ellerslie +is acquainted with the details of your unhappy domestic differences?” + +“I do not know at all. What do these things matter?” + +“Only this: Why should Dr Ellerslie question the authority of a parent +who brings his child? It shows at least that he is the one who is +concerned about her welfare. For all Dr Ellerslie knew, you might be the +unauthorised one, Mrs Severe. A doctor can scarcely be expected to +withhold a critical operation while he investigates the family affairs +of his patients.” + +“But all this time--this dreadful suspense. He must have known.” + +Carrados shrugged his shoulders and seemed to glance across the room to +where their host had so far stood immovable. + +“I did know, Mrs Severe. I could not help knowing. But I knew something +else, and to a doctor the interests of his patient must overrule every +ordinary consideration. Should the occasion arise, I shall be prepared +at any time to justify my silence.” + +“Oh, the occasion will arise and pretty sharp, don’t you fear,” chimed +in the irrepressible Miss Julp. “There’s a sight more in this business, +Ida, than we’ve got at yet. A mighty cute idea putting up Severe now. I +never did believe that he was in it. He’s a piece too mean-spirited to +have the nerve. And where is Arthur Severe now? Gone, of course; quit +the country and at someone else’s expense.” + +“Not at all,” said Carrados very obligingly. “Since you ask, Miss +Julp”--he raised his voice--“Mr Severe!” + +The door opened and Severe strolled into the room with great sang-froid. +He bowed distantly to his wife and nodded familiarly to the police +official. + +“Well, Inspector,” he remarked, “you’ve cornered me at last, you see.” + +“I’m not so sure of that,” retorted Beedel shortly. + +“Oh, come now; you are too modest. My unconvincing alibi that you broke +down. The printed letter so conclusively from my hand. And Grigson--your +irrefutable, steadfast witness from the station here, Inspector. There’s +no getting round Grigson now, you know.” + +Beedel rubbed his chin helpfully but made no answer. Things seemed to +have reached a momentary impasse. + +“Perhaps we may at least all sit down,” suggested Ellerslie, to break +the silence. “There are rather a lot of us, but I think the chairs will +go round.” + +“If I wasn’t just dead tired I would sooner drop than sit down in the +house of a man calling himself a doctor,” declared Miss Julp. Then she +sat down rather heavily. Sharp on the action came a piercing yell, a +deep-wrung “Yag!” of pain and alarm, and the lady was seen bounding to +her feet, to turn and look suspiciously at the place she had just +vacated. + +“It was a needle, Cornelia,” said Mrs Severe, who sat next to her. “See, +here it is.” + +“Dear me, how unfortunate,” exclaimed Ellerslie, following the action; +“one of my surgical needles. I do hope that it has been properly +sterilised since the last operation.” + +“What’s that?” demanded Miss Julp sharply. + +“Well,” explained the doctor slowly, “I mean that there is such a thing +as blood-poisoning. At least,” he amended, “for me there is such a thing +as blood-poisoning. For you, fortunately, it does not exist. Any more +than pain does,” he added thoughtfully. + +“Do you mean,” demanded Miss Julp with slow precision, “that through +your carelessness, your criminal carelessness, I run any risk of +blood-poisoning?” + +“Cornelia!” exclaimed Mrs Severe in pale incredulity. + +“Of course not,” retorted the surgeon. “How can you if such a thing does +not exist?” + +“I don’t care whether it exists or not----” + +“Cornelia!” repeated her faithful disciple in horror. + +“Be quiet, Ida. This is my business. It isn’t like an ordinary illness. +I’ve always had a horror of blood-poisoning. I have nightmare about it. +My father died of it. He had to have glass tubes put in his veins, and +the night he died----Oh, I tell you I can’t stand the thought of it. +There’s nothing else I believe in, but blood-poisoning----” She +shuddered. “I tell you, doctor,” she declared with a sudden descent to +the practical, “if I get laid up from this you’ll have to stand the +racket, and pretty considerable damages as well.” + +“But at the worst this is a very simple matter,” protested Ellerslie. +“If you will let me dress the place----” + +Miss Julp went as red as a swarthy-complexioned lady of forty-five could +be expected to go. + +“How can I let you dress the place?” she snapped. “It is----” + +“Oh, Cornelia, Cornelia!” exclaimed Mrs Severe reproachfully, through +her disillusioned tears, “would you really be so false to the great +principles which you have taught me?” + +“I have a trained nurse here,” suggested the doctor. “She would do it as +well as I could.” + +“Are you really going?” demanded Mrs Severe, for there was no doubt that +Miss Julp was going and going with alacrity. + +“I don’t abate one iota of my principles, Ida,” she remarked. “But one +has to discriminate. There are natural illnesses and there are unnatural +illnesses. We say with truth that there can be no death, but no one will +deny that Christian Scientists do, as a matter of fact, in the ordinary +sense, die. Perhaps this is rather beyond you yet, dear, but I hope that +some day you will see it in the light of its deeper mystery.” + +“Do you?” replied Mrs Severe with cold disdain. “At present I only see +that there is one law of indulgence for yourself and another for your +dupes.” + +“After all,” interposed Ellerslie, “this embarrassing discussion need +never have arisen. I now see that the offending implement is only one of +Mrs Glass’s darning needles. How careless of her! You need have no fear, +Miss Julp.” + +“Oh, you coward!” exclaimed Miss Julp breathlessly. “You coward! I won’t +stay here a moment longer. I will go home.” + +“I won’t detain you,” said Mrs Severe as Cornelia passed her. “Your home +is in Chicago, I believe? Ann will help you to pack.” + +Carrados rose and touched Beedel on the arm. + +“You and I are not wanted here, Inspector,” he whispered. “The bottom’s +dropped out of the case,” and they slipped away together. + +Mrs Severe looked across the room towards her late husband, hesitated +and then slowly walked up to him. + +“There is a great deal here that I do not understand,” she said, “but is +not this so, that you were willing to go to prison to shield this man +who has been good to Marie?” + +Severe flushed a little. Then he dropped his deliberate reply. + +“I am willing to go to hell for this man for his goodness to Marie,” he +said curtly. + +“Oh!” exclaimed Mrs Severe with a little cry. “I wish----You never said +that you would go to hell for me!” + +The outcast stared. Then a curious look, a twisted smile of tenderness +and half-mocking humour crossed his features. + +“My dear,” he responded gravely, “perhaps not. But I often thought it!” + +Dr Ellerslie, who had followed out the last two of his departing guests, +looked in at the door. + +“Marie is awake, I hear,” he said. “Will you go up now, Mrs Severe?” + +With a shy smile the lady held out her hand towards the shabby man. + +“You must go with me, Arthur,” she stipulated. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + III + + The Secret of Dunstan’s Tower + + +It was a peculiarity of Mr Carrados that he could drop the most +absorbing occupation of his daily life at a moment’s notice if need be, +apply himself exclusively to the solution of some criminological +problem, possibly a matter of several days, and at the end of the time +return and take up the thread of his private business exactly where he +had left it. + +On the morning of the 3rd of September he was dictating to his secretary +a monograph to which he had given the attractive title, “The Portrait of +Alexander the Great, as Jupiter Ammon, on an unedited octadrachm of +Macedonia,” when a telegram was brought in. Greatorex, the secretary, +dealt with such communications as a matter of course, and, taking the +envelope from Parkinson’s salver, he cut it open in the pause between a +couple of sentences. + +“This is a private matter of yours, sir,” he remarked, after glancing at +the message. “Handed in at Netherhempsfield, 10.48 A.M. Repeated. One +step higher. Quite baffled. Tulloch.” + +“Oh yes; that’s all right,” said Carrados. “No reply, Parkinson. Have +you got down ‘the Roman supremacy’?” + +“‘... the type of workmanship that still enshrined the memory of Spartan +influence down to the era of Roman supremacy,’” read the secretary. + +“That will do. How are the trains for Netherhempsfield?” + +Greatorex put down the notebook and took up an “ABC.” + +“Waterloo departure 11----” He cocked an eye towards the desk clock. +“Oh, that’s no good. 12.17, 2.11, 5.9, 7.25.” + +“The 5.9 should do,” interposed Carrados. “Arrival?” + +“6.48.” + +“Now what has the gazeteer to say about the place?” + +The yellow railway guide gave place to a weightier volume, and the +secretary read out the following details: + +“Netherhempsfield, parish and village, pop. 732, South Downshire. 2728 +acres land and 27 water; soil rich loam, occupied as arable, pasture, +orchard and woodland; subsoil various. The church of St Dunstan +(restored 1740) is Saxon and Early English. It possesses an oak roof +with curious grotesque bosses, and contains brasses and other memorials +(earliest 13th century) of the Aynosforde family. In the ‘Swinefield,’ +1½ miles south-west of the village, are 15 large stones, known locally +as the Judge and Jury, which constitute the remains of a Druidical +circle and temple. Dunstan’s Tower, a moated residence built in the +baronial style, and probably dating from the 14th century, is the seat +of the Aynosfordes.” + +“I can give three days easily,” mused Carrados. “Yes, I’ll go down by +the 5.9.” + +“Do I accompany you, sir?” inquired Greatorex. + +“Not this time, I think. Have three days off yourself. Just pick up the +correspondence and take things easy. Send on anything to me, care of Dr +Tulloch. If I don’t write, expect me back on Friday.” + +“Very well, Mr Carrados. What books shall I put out for Parkinson to +pack?” + +“Say ... Gessner’s _Thesaurus_ and--yes, you may as well add Hilarion’s +_Celtic Mythology_.” + +Six hours later Carrados was on his way to Netherhempsfield. In his +pocket was the following letter, which may be taken as offering the only +explanation why he should suddenly decide to visit a place of which he +had never even heard until that morning:-- + + + “DEAR MR CARRADOS (‘old Wynn,’ it used to be),--Do you remember a + fellow at St Michael’s who used to own insects and the name of + Tulloch--‘Earwigs,’ they called him? Well, you will find it at the end + of this epistle, if you have the patience to get there. I ran across + Jarvis about six months ago on Euston platform--you’ll recall him by + his red hair and great feet--and we had a rapid and comprehensive + pow-wow. He told me who you were, having heard of you from Lessing, + who seems to be editing a high-class review. He always was a trifle + eccentric, Lessing. + + “As for yours t., well, at the moment I’m local demon in a G-f-s + little place that you’d hardly find on anything less than a 4-inch + ordnance. But I won’t altogether say it mightn’t be worse, for there’s + trout in the stream, and after half-a-decade of Cinder Moor, in the + Black Country, a great and holy peace broods on the smiling land. + + “But you will guess that I wouldn’t be taking up the time of a busy + man of importance unless I had something to say, and you’d be right. + It may interest you, or it may not, but here it is. + + “Living about two miles out of the village, at a sort of mediæval + stronghold known as Dunstan’s Tower, there is an ancient county family + called Aynosforde. And, for the matter of that, they are about all + there is here, for the whole place seems to belong to them, and their + authority runs from the power to charge you twopence if you sell a pig + between Friday night and Monday morning to the right to demand an + exchange of scabbards with the reigning sovereign whenever he comes + within seven bowshot flights of the highest battlement of Dunstan’s + Tower. (I don’t gather that any reigning sovereign ever has come, but + that isn’t the Aynosfordes’ fault.) But, levity apart, these + Aynosfordes, without being particularly rich, or having any title, are + accorded an extraordinary position. I am told that scarcely a living + duchess could hold out against the moral influence old dame Aynosforde + could bring to bear on social matters, and yet she scarcely ever goes + beyond Netherhempsfield now. + + “My connection with these high-and-mighties ought to be purely + professional, and so, in a manner, it is, but on the top of it I find + myself drawn into a full-blooded, old haunted house mystery that takes + me clean out of my depth. + + “Darrish, the man whose place I’m taking for three months, had a sort + of arrangement that once a week he should go up to the Tower and amuse + old Mrs Aynosforde for a couple of hours under the pretence of feeling + her pulse. I found that I was let in for continuing this. Fortunately + the old dame was quite amiable at close quarters. I have no social + qualifications whatever, and we got on very well together on those + terms. I have heard that she considers me ‘thoroughly responsible.’ + + “For five or six weeks everything went on swimmingly. I had just + enough to do to keep me from doing nothing. People have a delightful + habit of not being taken ill in the night, and there is a comfortable + cob to trot round on. + + “Tuesday is my Dunstan’s Tower day. Last Tuesday I went as usual. I + recall now that the servants about the place seemed rather wild and + the old lady did not keep me quite as long as usual, but these things + were not sufficiently noticeable to make any impression on me at the + time. On Friday a groom rode over with a note from Swarbrick, the + butler. Would I go up that afternoon and see Mrs Aynosforde? He had + taken the liberty of asking me on his own responsibility as he thought + that she ought to be seen. Deuced queer it struck me, but of course I + went. + + “Swarbrick was evidently on the look-out. He is a regular family + retainer, taciturn and morose rather than bland. I saw at once that + the old fellow had something on his mind, and I told him that I should + like a word with him. We went into the morning-room. + + “‘Now, Swarbrick,’ I said, ‘you sent for me. What is the matter with + your mistress since Tuesday?’ + + “He looked at me dourly, as though he was still in two minds about + opening his mouth. Then he said slowly: + + “‘It isn’t since Tuesday, sir. It was on that morning.’ + + “‘What was?’ I asked. + + “‘The beginning of it, Dr Tulloch. Mrs Aynosforde slipped at the foot + of the stairs on coming down to breakfast.’ + + “‘She did?’ I said. ‘Well, it couldn’t have been very serious at the + time. She never mentioned it to me.’ + + “‘No, sir,’ the old monument assented, with an appalling surface of + sublime pride, ‘she would not.’ + + “‘Why wouldn’t she if she was hurt?’ I demanded. ‘People do mention + these things to their medical men, in strict confidence.’ + + “‘The circumstances are unusual, sir,’ he replied, without a ruffle of + his imperturbable respect. ‘Mrs Aynosforde was not hurt, sir. She did + not actually fall, but she slipped--on a pool of blood.’ + + “‘That’s unpleasant,’ I admitted, looking at him sharply, for an owl + could have seen that there was something behind all this. ‘How did it + come there? Whose was it?’ + + “‘Sir Philip Bellmont’s, sir.’ + + “I did not know the name. ‘Is he a visitor here?’ I asked. + + “‘Not at present, sir. He stayed with us in 1662. He died here, sir, + under rather unpleasant circumstances.’ + + “There you have it, Wynn. That is the keystone of the whole business. + But if I keep to my conversation with the still reluctant Swarbrick I + shall run out of foolscap and into midnight. Briefly, then, the + ‘unpleasant circumstances’ were as follows:--Just about two and a half + centuries ago, when Charles II. was back, and things in England were + rather gay, a certain Sir Philip Bellmont was a guest at Dunstan’s + Tower. There were dice, and there was a lady--probably a dozen, but + the particular one was the Aynosforde’s young wife. One night there + was a flare-up. Bellmont was run through with a rapier, and an ugly + doubt turned on whether the point came out under the shoulder blade, + or went in there. Dripping on to every stair, the unfortunate man was + carried up to his room. He died within a few hours, convinced, from + the circumstances, of treachery all round, and with his last breath he + left an anathema on every male and female Aynosforde as the day of + their death approached. There are fourteen steps in the flight that + Bellmont was carried up, and when the pool appears in the hall some + Aynosforde has just two weeks to live. Each succeeding morning the + stain may be found one stair higher. When it reaches the top there is + a death in the family. + + “This was the gist of the story. As far as you and I are concerned, it + is, of course, merely a matter as to what form our scepticism takes, + but my attitude is complicated by the fact that my nominal patient has + become a real one. She is seventy-two and built to be a nonagenarian, + but she has gone to bed with the intention of dying on Tuesday week. + And I firmly believe she will. + + “‘How does she know that she is the one?’ I asked. There aren’t many + Aynosfordes, but I knew that there were some others. + + “To this Swarbrick maintained a discreet ambiguity. It was not for him + to say, he replied, but I can see that he, like most of the natives + round here, is obsessed with Aynosfordism. + + “‘And for that matter,’ I objected, ‘your mistress is scarcely + entitled to the distinction. She will not really be an Aynosforde at + all--only one by marriage.’ + + “‘No, sir,’ he replied readily, ‘Mrs Aynosforde was also a Miss + Aynosforde, sir--one of the Dorset Aynosfordes. Mr Aynosforde married + his cousin.’ + + “‘Oh,’ I said, ‘do the Aynosfordes often marry cousins?’ + + “‘Very frequently, sir. You see, it is difficult otherwise for them to + find eligible partners.’ + + “Well, I saw the lady, explaining that I had not been altogether + satisfied with her condition on Tuesday. It passed, but I was not able + to allude to the real business. Swarbrick, in his respectful, + cast-iron way, had impressed on me that Sir Philip Bellmont must not + be mentioned, assuring me that even Darrish would not venture to do + so. Mrs Aynosforde was certainly a little feverish, but there was + nothing the matter with her. I left, arranging to call again on the + Sunday. + + “When I came to think it over, the first form it took was: Now who is + playing a silly practical joke, or working a deliberate piece of + mischief? But I could not get any further on those lines, because I do + not know enough of the circumstances. Darrish might know, but Darrish + is cruising off Spitzbergen, suffering from a nervous breakdown. The + people here are amiable enough superficially, but they plainly regard + me as an outsider. + + “It was then that I thought of you. From what Jarvis had told me I + gathered that you were keen on a mystery for its own sake. + Furthermore, though I understand that you are now something of a dook, + you might not be averse to a quiet week in the country, jogging along + the lanes, smoking a peaceful pipe of an evening and yarning over old + times. But I was not going to lure you down and then have the thing + turn out to be a ridiculous and transparent hoax, no matter how + serious its consequences. I owed it to you to make some reasonable + investigation myself. This I have now done. + + “On Sunday when I went there Swarbrick, with a very long face, + reported that on each morning he had found the stain one step higher. + The patient, needless to say, was appreciably worse. When I came down + I had made up my mind. + + “‘Look here, Swarbrick,’ I said, ‘there is only one thing for it. I + must sit up here to-night and see what happens.’ + + “He was very dubious at first, but I believe the fellow is genuine in + his attachment to the house. His final scruple melted when he learned + that I should not require him to sit up with me. I enjoined absolute + secrecy, and this, in a large rambling place like the Tower, is not + difficult to maintain. All the maid-servants had fled. The only people + sleeping within the walls now, beyond those I have mentioned, are two + of Mrs Aynosforde’s grandchildren (a girl and a young man whom I + merely know by sight), the housekeeper and a footman. All these had + retired long before the butler admitted me by an obscure little door, + about half-an-hour after midnight. + + “The staircase with which we are concerned goes up from the dining + hall. A much finer, more modern way ascends from the entrance hall. + This earlier one, however, only gives access now to three rooms, a + lovely oak-panelled chamber occupied by my patient and two small + rooms, turned nowadays into a boudoir and a bathroom. When Swarbrick + had left me in an easy-chair, wrapped in a couple of rugs, in a corner + of the dark dining hall, I waited for half-an-hour and then proceeded + to make my own preparations. Moving very quietly, I crept up the + stairs, and at the top drove one drawing-pin into the lintel about a + foot up, another at the same height into the baluster opposite, and + across the stairs fastened a black thread, with a small bell hanging + over the edge. A touch and the bell would ring, whether the thread + broke or not. At the foot of the stairs I made another attachment and + hung another bell. + + “‘I think, my unknown friend,’ I said, as I went back to the chair, + ‘you are cut off above and below now.’ + + “I won’t say that I didn’t close my eyes for a minute through the + whole night, but if I did sleep it was only as a watchdog sleeps. A + whisper or a creak of a board would have found me alert. As it was, + however, nothing happened. At six o’clock Swarbrick appeared, + respectfully solicitous about my vigil. + + “‘We’ve done it this time, Swarbrick,’ I said in modest elation. ‘Not + the ghost of a ghost has appeared. The spell is broken.’ + + “He had crossed the hall and was looking rather strangely at the + stairs. With a very queer foreboding I joined him and followed his + glance. By heavens, Wynn, there, on the sixth step up, was a bright + red patch! I am not squeamish; I cleared four steps at a stride, and + stooping down I dipped my finger into the stuff and felt its slippery + viscidity against my thumb. There could be no doubt about it; it was + the genuine thing. In my baffled amazement I looked in every direction + for a possible clue to human agency. Above, more than twenty feet + above, were the massive rafters and boarding of the roof itself. By my + side reared a solid stone wall, and beneath was simply the room we + stood in, for the space below the stairway was not enclosed. + + “I pointed to my arrangement of bells. + + “‘Nobody has gone up or down, I’ll swear,’ I said a little warmly. + Between ourselves, I felt a bit of an ass for my pains, before the + monumental Swarbrick. + + “‘No, sir,’ he agreed. ‘I had a similar experience myself on Saturday + night.’ + + “‘The deuce you did,’ I exclaimed. ‘Did you sit up then?’ + + “‘Not exactly, sir,’ he replied, ‘but after making all secure at night + I hung a pair of irreplaceable Dresden china cups in a similar way. + They were both still intact in the morning, sir.’ + + “Well, there you are. I have nothing more to say on the subject. ‘Hope + not,’ you’ll be muttering. If the thing doesn’t tempt you, say no more + about it. If it does, just wire a time and I’ll be at the station. + Welcome isn’t the word.--Yours as of yore, + + “JIM TULLOCH. + + “_P.S._--Can put your man up all right. + + “J. T.” + + +Carrados had “wired a time,” and he was seized on the platform by the +awaiting and exuberant Tulloch and guided with elaborate carefulness to +the doctor’s cart, which was, as its temporary owner explained, +“knocking about somewhere in the lane outside.” + +“Splendid little horse,” he declared. “Give him a hedge to nibble at and +you can leave him to look after himself for hours. Motors? He laughs at +them, Wynn, merely laughs.” + +Parkinson and the luggage found room behind, and the splendid little +horse shook his shaggy head and launched out for home. For a mile the +conversation was a string of, “Do you ever come across Brown now?” “You +know Sugden was killed flying?” “Heard of Marling only last week; he’s +gone on the stage.” “By the way, that appalling ass Sanders married a +girl with a pot of money and runs horses now,” and doubtless it would +have continued in a similar strain to the end of the journey if an +encounter with a farmer’s country trap had not interrupted its tenor. + +The lane was very narrow at that point and the driver of the trap drew +into the hedge and stopped to allow the doctor to pass. There was a +mutual greeting, and Tulloch pulled up also when their hubs were clear. + +“No more sheep killed, I hope?” he called back. + +“No, sir; I can’t complain that we have,” said the driver cheerfully. +“But I do hear that Mr Stone, over at Daneswood, lost one last night.” + +“In the same way, do you mean?” + +“So I heard. It’s a queer business, doctor.” + +“It’s a blackguardly business. It’s a marvel what the fellow thinks he’s +doing.” + +“He’ll get nabbed, never fear, sir. He’ll do it once too often.” + +“Hope so,” said the doctor. “Good-day.” He shook the reins and turned to +his visitor. “One of our local ‘Farmer Jarges.’ It’s part of the +business to pass the time o’ day with them all and ask after the cow or +the pig, if no other member of the family happens to be on the sick +list.” + +“What is the blackguardly business?” asked Carrados. + +“Well, that is a bit out of the common, I’ll admit. About a week ago +this man, Bailey, found one of his sheep dead in the field. It had been +deliberately killed--head cut half off. It hadn’t been done for meat, +because none was taken. But, curiously enough, something else had been +taken. The animal had been opened and the heart and intestines were +gone. What do you think of that, Wynn?” + +“Revenge, possibly.” + +“Bailey declares that he hasn’t got the shadow of an enemy in the world. +His three or four labourers are quite content. Of course a thing like +that makes a tremendous sensation in a place like this. You may see as +many as five men talking together almost any day now. And here, on the +top if it, comes another case at Stone’s. It looks like one of those +outbreaks that crop up from time to time for no obvious reason and then +die out again.” + +“No reason, Jim?” + +“Well, if it isn’t revenge, and if it isn’t food, what is there to be +got by it?” + +“What is there to be got when an animal is killed?” + +Tulloch stared without enlightenment. + +“What is there that I am here to trace?” + +“Godfrey Dan’l, Wynn! You don’t mean to say that there is any connection +between----?” + +“I don’t say it,” declared Carrados promptly. “But there is very strong +reason why we should consider it. It solves a very obvious question that +faces us. A pricked thumb does not produce a pool. Did you microscope +it?” + +“Yes, I did. I can only say that it’s mammalian. My limited experience +doesn’t carry me beyond that. Then what about the entrails, Wynn? Why +take those?” + +“That raises a variety of interesting speculations certainly.” + +“It may to you. The only thing that occurs to me is that it might be a +blind.” + +“A very unfortunate one, if so. A blind is intended to allay +curiosity--to suggest an obvious but fictitious motive. This, on the +contrary, arouses curiosity. The abstraction of a haunch of mutton would +be an excellent blind. Whereas now, as you say, what about the +entrails?” + +Tulloch shook his head. + +“I’ve had my shot,” he answered. “Can you suggest anything?” + +“Frankly, I can’t,” admitted Carrados. + +“On the face of it, I don’t suppose anyone short of an oracle could. +Pity our local shrine has got rusty in the joints.” He levelled his whip +and pointed to a distant silhouette that showed against the last few red +streaks in the western sky a mile away. “You see that solitary old +outpost of paganism----” + +The splendid little horse leapt forward in indignant surprise as the +extended whip fell sharply across his shoulders. Tulloch’s ingenuous +face seemed to have caught the rubicundity of the distant sunset. + +“I’m beastly sorry, Wynn, old man,” he muttered. “I ought to have +remembered.” + +“My blindness?” contributed Carrados. “My dear chap, everyone makes a +point of forgetting that. It’s quite a recognised form of compliment +among friends. If it were baldness I probably should be touchy on the +subject; as it’s only blindness I’m not.” + +“I’m very glad you take it so well,” said Tulloch. “I was referring to a +stone circle that we have here. Perhaps you have heard of it?” + +“The Druids’ altar!” exclaimed Carrados with an inspiration. “Jim, to my +everlasting shame, I had forgotten it.” + +“Oh, well, it isn’t much to look at,” confessed the practical doctor. +“Now in the church there are a few decent monuments--all Aynosfordes, of +course.” + +“Aynosfordes--naturally. Do you know how far that remarkable race goes +back?” + +“A bit beyond Adam I should fancy,” laughed Tulloch. “Well, Darrish told +me that they really can trace to somewhere before the Conquest. Some +antiquarian Johnny has claimed that the foundations of Dunstan’s Tower +cover a Celtic stronghold. Are you interested in that sort of thing?” + +“Intensely,” replied Carrados; “but we must not neglect other things. +This gentleman who owned the unfortunate sheep, the second victim, now? +How far is Daneswood away?” + +“About a mile--mile and a half at the most.” + +Carrados turned towards the back seat. + +“Do you think that in seven minutes’ time you would be able to +distinguish the details of a red mark on the grass, Parkinson?” + +Parkinson took the effect of three objects, the sky above, the herbage +by the roadside, and the back of his hand, and then spoke regretfully. + +“I’m afraid not, sir; not with any certainty,” he replied. + +“Then we need not trouble Mr Stone to-night,” said Carrados +philosophically. + +After dinner there was the peaceful pipe that Tulloch had forecast, and +mutual reminiscences until the long clock in the corner, striking the +smallest hour of the morning, prompted Tulloch to suggest retirement. + +“I hope you have everything,” he remarked tentatively, when he had +escorted the guest to his bedroom. “Mrs Jones does for me very well, but +you are an unknown quantity to her as yet.” + +“I shall be quite all right, you may be sure,” replied Carrados, with +his engagingly grateful smile. “Parkinson will already have seen to +everything. We have a complete system, and I know exactly where to find +anything I require.” + +Tulloch gave a final glance around. + +“Perhaps you would prefer the window closed?” he suggested. + +“Indeed, I should not. It is south-west, isn’t it?” + +“Yes.” + +“And a south-westerly breeze to bring the news. I shall sit here for a +little time.” He put his hand on the top rail of a chair with +unhesitating precision and drew it to the open casement. “There are a +thousand sounds that you in your arrogance of sight ignore, a thousand +individual scents of hedge and orchard that come to me up here. I +suppose it is quite dark to you now, Jim? What a lot you seeing people +must miss!” + +Tulloch guffawed, with his hand on the door knob. + +“Well, don’t let your passion for nocturnal nature study lead you to +miss breakfast at eight. My eyes won’t, I promise you. Ta-ta.” + +He jigged off to his own room and in ten minutes was soundly asleep. But +the oak clock in the room beneath marked the quarters one by one until +the next hour struck, and then round the face again until the little +finger stood at three, and still the blind man sat by the open window +that looked out over the south-west, interpreting the multitudinous +signs of the quiet life that still went on under the dark cover of the +warm summer night. + +“The word lies with you, Wynn,” remarked Tulloch at breakfast the next +morning--he was twelve minutes late, by the way, and found his guest +interested in the titles of Dr Darrish’s excellent working library. “I +am supposed to be on view here from nine to ten, and after that I am due +at Abbot’s Farm somewhere about noon. With those reservations, I am at +your disposal for the day.” + +“Do you happen to go anywhere near the ‘Swinefield’ on your way to +Abbot’s Farm?” asked Carrados. + +“The ‘Swinefield’? Oh, the Druids’ circle. Yes, one way--and it’s as +good as any other--passes the wheel-track that leads up to it.” + +“Then I should certainly like to inspect the site.” + +“There’s really nothing to see, you know,” apologised the doctor. “Only +a few big rocks on end. They aren’t even chiselled smooth.” + +“I am curious,” volunteered Carrados, “to discover why fifteen stones +should be called ‘The Judge and Jury.’” + +“Oh, I can explain that for you,” declared Tulloch. “Two of them are +near together with a third block across the tops. That’s the Judge. The +twelve jurymen are scattered here and there. But we’ll go, by all +means.” + +“There is a public right of way, I suppose?” asked Carrados, when, in +due course, the trap turned from the highway into a field track. + +“I don’t know about a right,” said Tulloch, “but I imagine that anyone +goes across who wants to. Of course it’s not a Stonehenge, and we have +very few visitors, or the Aynosfordes might put some restrictions. As +for the natives, there isn’t a man who wouldn’t sooner walk ten miles to +see a five-legged calf than cross the road to look at a Phidias. And for +that matter,” he added thoughtfully, “this is the first time I’ve been +really up to the place myself.” + +“It’s on Aynosforde property, then?” + +“Oh yes. Most of the parish is, I believe. But this ‘Swinefield’ is part +of the park. There is an oak plantation across there or Dunstan’s Tower +would be in sight.” + +They had reached the gate of the enclosure. The doctor got down to open +it, as he had done the former ones. + +“This is locked,” he said, coming back to the step, “but we can climb +over easy enough. You can get down all right?” + +“Thanks,” replied Carrados. He descended and followed Tulloch, stopping +to pat the little horse’s neck. + +“He’ll be all right,” remarked the doctor with a backward nod. “I fancy +Tommy’s impressionable years must have been spent between the shafts of +a butcher’s cart. Now, Wynn, how do we proceed?” + +“I should like to have your arm over this rough ground. Then if you will +take me from stone to stone.” + +They paced the broken circle leisurely, Carrados judging the appearance +of the remains by touch and by the answers to the innumerable questions +that he put. They were approaching the most important monument--the +Judge--when Tulloch gave a shout of delight. + +“Oh, the beauty!” he cried with enthusiasm. “I must see you closer. +Wynn, do you mind--a minute----” + +“Lady, Jim?” murmured Carrados. “Certainly not. I’ll stand like Tommy.” + +Tulloch shot off with a laugh and Carrados heard him racing across the +grass in the direction of the trilithon. He was still amused when he +returned, after a very short interval. + +“No, Wynn, not a lady, but it occurred to me that you might have been +farther off. A beautiful airy creature very brightly clad. A Purple +Emperor, in fact. I haven’t netted a butterfly for years, but the sight +gave me all the old excitement of the chase.” + +“Tolerably rare, too, aren’t they?” + +“Generally speaking, they are. I remember waiting in an oak grove with a +twenty-foot net for a whole day once, and not a solitary Emperor crossed +my path.” + +“An oak grove; yes, you said there was an oak plantation here.” + +“I didn’t know the trick then. You needn’t go to that trouble. His +Majesty has rather peculiar tastes for so elegant a being. You just hang +a piece of decidedly ripe meat anywhere near.” + +“Yes, Jim?” + +“Do you notice anything?” demanded the doctor, with his face up to the +wind. + +“Several things,” replied Carrados. + +“Apropos of high meat? Do you know, Wynn, I lost that Purple Emperor +here, round the blocks. I thought it must have soared, as I couldn’t +quite fathom its disappearance. This used to be the Druids’ altar, they +say. I don’t know if you follow me, but it would be a devilish rum go +if--eh?” + +Carrados accepted the suggestion of following Jim’s idea with +impenetrable gravity. + +“I haven’t the least doubt that you are right,” he assented. “Can you +get up?” + +“It’s about ten feet high,” reported Tulloch, “and not an inch of +crevice to get a foothold on. If only we could bring the trap in +here----” + +“I’ll give you a back,” said Carrados, taking a position against one of +the pillars. “You can manage with that?” + +“Sure you can stand it?” + +“Only be as quick as you can.” + +“Wait a minute,” said Tulloch with indecision. “I think someone is +coming.” + +“I know there is,” admitted Carrados, “but it is only a matter of +seconds. Make a dash for it.” + +“No,” decided Tulloch. “One looks ridiculous. I believe it is Miss +Aynosforde. We’d better wait.” + +A young girl with a long thin face, light hair and the palest blue eyes +that it would be possible to imagine had come from the wood and was +approaching them hurriedly. She might have been eighteen, but she was +“dressed young,” and when she spoke she expressed the ideas of a child. + +“You ought not to come in here,” was her greeting. “It belongs to us.” + +“I am sorry if we are trespassing,” apologised Tulloch, coloring with +chagrin and surprise. “I was under the impression that Mrs Aynosforde +allowed visitors to inspect these ruins. I am Dr Tulloch.” + +“I don’t know anything about that,” said the girl vaguely. “But Dunstan +will be very cross if he sees you here. He is always cross if he finds +that anyone has been here. He will scold me afterwards. And he makes +faces in the night.” + +“We will go,” said Tulloch quietly. “I am sorry that we should have +unconsciously intruded.” + +He raised his hat and turned to walk away, but Miss Aynosforde detained +him. + +“You must not let Dunstan know that I spoke to you about it,” she +implored him. “That would be as bad. Indeed,” she added plaintively, +“whatever I do always makes him cruel to me.” + +“We will not mention it, you may be sure,” replied the doctor. +“Good-morning.” + +“Oh, it is no good!” suddenly screamed the girl. “He has seen us; he is +coming!” + +Tulloch looked round in the direction that Miss Aynosforde’s frightened +gaze indicated. A young man whom he knew by sight as her brother had +left the cover of the wood and was strolling leisurely towards them. +Without waiting to encounter him the girl turned and fled, to hide +herself behind the farthest pillar, running with ungainly movements of +her long, wispish arms and uttering a low cry as she went. + +As young Aynosforde approached he courteously raised his hat to the two +elder men. He appeared to be a few years older than his sister, and in +him her colourless ovine features were moulded to a firmer cast. + +“I am afraid that we are trespassing,” said the doctor, awkward between +his promise to the girl and the necessity of glossing over the +situation. “My friend is interested in antiquities----” + +“My unfortunate sister!” broke in Aynosforde quietly, with a sad smile. +“I can guess what she has been saying. You are Dr Tulloch, are you not?” + +“Yes.” + +“Our grandmother has a foolish but amiable weakness that she can keep +poor Edith’s infirmity dark. I cannot pretend to maintain that +appearance before a doctor ... and I am sure that we can rely on the +discretion of your friend?” + +“Oh, certainly,” volunteered Tulloch. “He is----” + +“Merely an amateur,” put in Carrados, suavely, but with the incisiveness +of a scalpel. + +“You must, of course, have seen that Edith is a little unusual in her +conversation,” continued the young man. “Fortunately, it is nothing +worse than that. She is not helpless, and she is never violent. I have +some hope, indeed, that she will outgrow her delusions. I suppose”--he +laughed a little as he suggested it--“I suppose she warned you of my +displeasure if I saw you here?” + +“There was something of the sort,” admitted Tulloch, judging that the +circumstances nullified his promise. + +Aynosforde shook his head slowly. + +“I am sorry that you have had the experience,” he remarked. “Let me +assure you that you are welcome to stay as long as you like under the +shadows of these obsolete fossils, and to come as often as you please. +It is a very small courtesy; the place has always been accessible to +visitors.” + +“I am relieved to find that I was not mistaken,” said the doctor. + +“When I have read up the subject I should like to come again,” +interposed Carrados. “For the present we have gone all over the ground.” +He took Tulloch’s arm, and under the insistent pressure the doctor +turned towards the gate. “Good-morning, Mr Aynosforde.” + +“What a thing to come across!” murmured Tulloch when they were out of +earshot. “I remember Darrish making the remark that the girl was simple +for her years or something of that sort, but I only took it that she was +backward. I wonder if the old ass knew more than he told me!” + +They were walking without concern across the turf and had almost reached +the gate when Carrados gave a sharp, involuntary cry of pain and +wrenched his arm free. As he did so a stone of dangerous edge and size +fell to the ground between them. + +“Damnation!” cried Tulloch, his face darkening with resentment. “Are you +hurt, old man?” + +“Come on,” curtly replied Carrados between his set teeth. + +“Not until I’ve given that young cub something to remember,” cried the +outraged doctor truculently. “It was Aynosforde, Wynn. I wouldn’t have +believed it but I just caught sight of him in time. He laughed and ran +behind a pillar when you were hit.” + +“Come on,” reiterated Carrados, seizing his friend’s arm and compelling +him towards the gate. “It was only the funny bone, fortunately. Would +you stop to box the village idiot’s ears because he puts out his tongue +at you?” + +“Village idiot!” exclaimed Tulloch. “I may only be a thick-skulled, +third-rate general practitioner of no social pretension whatever, but +I’m blistered if I’ll have my guests insulted by a long-eared pedigree +blighter without putting up a few plain words about it. An Aynosforde or +not, he must take the consequences; he’s no village idiot.” + +“No,” was Carrados’s grim retort; “he is something much more +dangerous--the castle maniac.” + +Tulloch would have stopped in sheer amazement, but the recovered arm +dragged him relentlessly on. + +“Aynosforde! Mad!” + +“The girl is on the borderline of imbecility; the man has passed beyond +the limit of a more serious phase. The ground has been preparing for +generations; doubtless in him the seed has quietly germinated for years. +Now his time has come.” + +“I heard that he was a nice, quiet young fellow, studious and interested +in science. He has a workshop and a laboratory.” + +“Yes, anything to occupy his mind. Well, in future he will have a padded +room and a keeper.” + +“But the sheep killed by night and the parts exposed on the Druids’ +altar? What does it mean, Wynn?” + +“It means madness, nothing more and nothing less. He is the receptacle +for the last dregs of a rotten and decrepit stock that has dwindled down +to mental atrophy. I don’t believe that there is any method in his +midnight orgies. The Aynosfordes are certainly a venerable line, and it +is faintly possible that its remote ancestors were Druid priests who +sacrificed and practised haruspicy on the very spot that we have left. I +have no doubt that on that questionable foundation you would find +advocates of a more romantic theory.” + +“Moral atavism?” suggested the doctor shrewdly. + +“Yes. Reincarnation. I prefer the simpler alternative. Aynosforde has +been so fed up with pride of family and traditions of his ancient race +that his mania takes this natural trend. You know what became of his +father and mother?” + +“No, I have never heard them mentioned.” + +“The father is in a private madhouse. The mother--another cousin, by the +way--died at twenty-five.” + +“And the blood stains on the stairs? Is that his work?” + +“Short of actual proof, I should say yes. It is the realisation of +another family legend, you see. Aynosforde may have an insane grudge +against his grandmother, or it may be simply apeish malignity, put into +his mind by the sight of blood.” + +“What do you propose doing, then? We can’t leave the man at large.” + +“We have nothing yet to commit him on. You would not sign for a +reception order on the strength of seeing him throw a stone? We must +contrive to catch him in the act to-night, if possible.” + +Tulloch woke up the little horse with a sympathetic touch--they were +ambling along the highroad again by this time--and permitted himself to +smile. + +“And how do you propose to do that, Excellency?” he asked. + +“By sprinkling the ninth step with iodide of nitrogen. A warm night ... +it will dry in half-an-hour.” + +“Well, do you know, I never thought of that,” admitted the doctor. +“Certainly that would give us the alarm if a feather brushed it. But we +don’t possess a chemist’s shop, and I very much doubt if I can put my +hand on any iodine.” + +“I brought a couple of ounces,” said Carrados with diffidence. “Also a +bottle of ·880 ammonia to be on the safe side.” + +“You really are a bit of a _sine qua non_, Wynn,” declared Tulloch +expressively. + +“It was such an obvious thing,” apologised the blind man. “I suppose +Brook Ashfield is too far for one of us to get over to this afternoon?” + +“In Dorset?” + +“Yes. Colonel Eustace Aynosforde is the responsible head of the family +now, and he should be on the spot if possible. Then we ought to get a +couple of men from the county lunatic asylum. We don’t know what may be +before us.” + +“If it can’t be done by train we must wire or perhaps Colonel Aynosforde +is on the telephone. We can go into that as soon as we get back. We are +almost at Abbot’s Farm now. I will cut it down to fifteen minutes at the +outside. You don’t mind waiting here?” + +“Don’t hurry,” replied Carrados. “Few cases are matters of minutes. +Besides, I told Parkinson to come on here from Daneswood on the chance +of our picking him up.” + +“Oh, it’s Parkinson, to be sure,” said the doctor. “Thought I knew the +figure crossing the field. Well, I’ll leave you to him.” + +He hastened along the rutty approach to the farm-house, and Tommy, under +the pretext of being driven there by certain pertinacious flies, +imperceptibly edged his way towards the long grass by the roadside. In a +few minutes Parkinson announced his presence at the step of the vehicle. + +“I found what you described, sir,” he reported. “These are the shapes.” + +Tulloch kept to his time. In less than a quarter of an hour he was back +again and gathering up the reins. + +“That little job is soon worked off,” he remarked with mild +satisfaction. “Home now, I suppose, Wynn?” + +“Yes,” assented Carrados. “And I think that the other little job is +morally worked off.” He held up a small piece of note-paper, cut to a +neat octagon, with two long sides and six short ones. “What familiar +object would just about cover that plan, Jim?” + +“If it isn’t implicating myself in any devilment, I should say that one +of our four-ounce bottles would be about the ticket,” replied Tulloch. + +“It very likely does implicate you to the extent of being one of your +four-ounce bottles, then,” said Carrados. “The man who killed Stone’s +sheep had occasion to use what we will infer to be a four-ounce bottle. +It does not tax the imagination to suggest the use he put it to, nor +need we wonder that he found it desirable to wash it afterwards--this +small, flat bottle that goes conveniently into a waistcoat pocket. On +one side of the field--the side remote from the road, Jim, but in the +direct line for Dunstan’s Tower--there is a stream. There he first +washed his hands, carefully placing the little bottle on the grass while +he did so. That indiscretion has put us in possession of a ground plan, +so to speak, of the vessel.” + +“Pity it wasn’t of the man instead.” + +“Of the man also. In the field the earth is baked and unimpressionable, +but down by the water-side the conditions are quite favourable, and +Parkinson got perfect reproductions of the footprints. Soon, perhaps, we +may have an opportunity of making a comparison.” + +The doctor glanced at the neat lines to which the papers Carrados held +out had been cut. + +“It’s a moral,” he admitted. “There’s nothing of the hobnailed about +those boots, Wynn.” + + * * * * * + +Swarbrick had been duly warned and obedience to his instructions had +been ensured by the note that conveyed them bearing the signature of +Colonel Aynosforde. Between eleven and twelve o’clock a light in a +certain position gave the intelligence that Dunstan Aynosforde was in +his bedroom and the coast quite clear. A little group of silent men +approached the Tower, and four, crossing one of the two bridges that +spanned the moat, melted spectrally away in a dark angle of the walls. + +Every detail had been arranged. There was no occasion for whispered +colloquies about the passages, and with the exception of the butler’s +sad and respectful greeting of an Aynosforde, scarcely a word was +spoken. Carrados, the colonel and Parkinson took up their positions in +the great dining hall, where Dr Tulloch had waited on the occasion of +his vigil. A screen concealed them from the stairs and the chairs on +which they sat did not creak--all the blind man asked for. The doctor, +who had carried a small quantity of some damp powder wrapped in a +saturated sheet of blotting-paper, occupied himself for five minutes +distributing it minutely over the surface of the ninth stair. When this +was accomplished he disappeared and the silence of a sleeping house +settled upon the ancient Tower. + +A party, however, is only as quiet as its most restless member, and the +colonel soon discovered a growing inability to do nothing at all and to +do it in absolute silence. After an exemplary hour he began to breathe +whispered comments on the situation into his neighbour’s ear, and it +required all Carrados’s tact and good humour to repress his impatience. +Two o’clock passed and still nothing had happened. + +“I began to feel uncommonly dubious, you know,” whispered the colonel, +after listening to the third clock strike the hour. “We stand to get +devilishly chaffed if this gets about. Suppose nothing happens?” + +“Then your aunt will probably get up again,” replied Carrados. + +“True, true. We shall have broken the continuity. But, you know, Mr +Carrados, there are some things about this portent, visitation--call it +what you will--that even I don’t fully understand down to this day. +There is no doubt that my grandfather, Oscar Aynosforde, who died in +1817, did receive a similar omen, or summons, or whatever it may be. We +have it on the authority----” + +Carrados clicked an almost inaudible sound of warning and laid an +admonishing hand on the colonel’s arm. + +“Something going on,” he breathed. + +The soldier came to the alert like a terrier at a word, but his +straining ears could not distinguish a sound beyond the laboured ticking +of the hall clock beyond. + +“I hear nothing,” he muttered to himself. + +He had not long to wait. Half-way up the stairs something snapped off +like the miniature report of a toy pistol. Before the sound could +translate itself to the human brain another louder discharge had +swallowed it up and out of its echo a crackling fusillade again marked +the dying effects of the scattered explosive. + +At the first crack Carrados had swept aside the screen. “Light, +Parkinson!” he cried. + +An electric lantern flashed out and centred its circle of brilliance on +the stairs opposite. Its radiance pierced the nebulous balloon of violet +smoke that was rising to the roof and brought out every detail of the +wall beyond. + +“Good heavens!” exclaimed Colonel Aynosforde, “there is a stone out. I +knew nothing of this.” + +As he spoke the solid block of masonry slid back into its place and the +wall became as blankly impenetrable as before. + +“Colonel Aynosforde,” said Carrados, after a hurried word with +Parkinson, “you know the house. Will you take my man and get round to +Dunstan’s workroom at once? A good deal depends upon securing him +immediately.” + +“Am I to leave you here without any protection, sir?” inquired Parkinson +in mild rebellion. + +“Not without any protection, thank you, Parkinson. I shall be in the +dark, remember.” + +They had scarcely gone when Dr Tulloch came stumbling in from the hall +and the main stairs beyond, calling on Carrados as he bumped his way +past a succession of inopportune pieces of furniture. + +“Are you there, Wynn?” he demanded, in high-strung irritation. “What the +devil’s happening? Aynosforde hasn’t left his room, we’ll swear, but +hasn’t the iodide gone off?” + +“The iodide has gone off and Aynosforde has left his room, though not by +the door. Possibly he is back in it by now.” + +“The deuce!” exclaimed Tulloch blankly. “What am I to do?” + +“Return----” began Carrados, but before he could say more there was a +confused noise and a shout outside the window. + +“We are saved further uncertainty,” said the blind man. “He has thrown +himself down into the moat.” + +“He will be drowned!” + +“Not if Swarbrick put the drag-rake where he was instructed, and if +those keepers are even passably expert,” replied Carrados imperturbably. +“After all, drowning.... But perhaps you had better go and see, Jim.” + +In a few minutes men began to return to the dining hall as though where +the blind man was constituted their headquarters. Colonel Aynosforde and +Parkinson were the first, and immediately afterwards Swarbrick entered +from the opposite side, bringing a light. + +“They’ve got him out,” exclaimed the colonel. “Upon my word, I don’t +know whether it’s for the best or the worst, Mr Carrados.” He turned to +the butler, who was lighting one after another of the candles of the +great hanging centre-pieces. “Did you know anything of a secret passage +giving access to these stairs, Swarbrick?” he inquired. + +“Not personally, sir,” replied Swarbrick, “but we always understood that +formerly there was a passage and hiding chamber somewhere, though the +positions had been lost. We last had occasion to use it when we were +defeated at Naseby, sir.” + +Carrados had walked to the stairs and was examining the wall. + +“This would be the principal stairway, then?” he asked. + +“Yes, sir, until we removed the Elizabethan gallery when we restored in +1712.” + +“It is on the same plan as the ‘Priest’s Chamber’ at Lapwood. If you +investigate in the daylight, Colonel Aynosforde, you will find that you +command a view of both bridges when the stone is open. Very convenient +sometimes, I dare say.” + +“Very, very,” assented the colonel absently. “Every moment,” he +explained, “I am dreading that Aunt Eleanor will make her appearance. +She must have been disturbed.” + +“Oh, I took that into account,” said Tulloch, catching the remark as he +put his head in at the door and looked round. “I recommended a sleeping +draught when I was here last--no, this evening. We have got our man in +all right now,” he continued, “and if we can have a dry suit----” + +“I will accompany you, sir,” said Swarbrick. + +“Is he--violent?” asked the colonel, dropping his voice. + +“Violent? Well,” admitted Tulloch, holding out two dripping objects that +he had been carrying, “we thought it just as well to cut his boots off.” +He threw them down in a corner and followed the butler out of the room. + +Carrados took two pieces of shaped white paper from his pocket and ran +his fingers round the outlines. Then he picked up Dunstan Aynosforde’s +boots and submitted them to a similar scrutiny. + +“Very exact, Parkinson,” he remarked approvingly. + +“Thank you, sir,” replied Parkinson with modest pride. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + IV + + The Mystery of the Poisoned Dish of Mushrooms + + +Some time during November of a recent year newspaper readers who are in +the habit of being attracted by curious items of quite negligible +importance might have followed the account of the tragedy of a St Abbots +schoolboy which appeared in the Press under the headings, “Fatal Dish of +Mushrooms,” “Are Toadstools Distinguishable?” or some similarly alluring +title. + +The facts relating to the death of Charlie Winpole were simple and +straightforward and the jury sworn to the business of investigating the +cause had no hesitation in bringing in a verdict in accordance with the +medical evidence. The witnesses who had anything really material to +contribute were only two in number, Mrs Dupreen and Robert Wilberforce +Slark, M.D. A couple of hours would easily have disposed of every detail +of an inquiry that was generally admitted to have been a pure formality, +had not the contention of an interested person delayed the inevitable +conclusion by forcing the necessity of an adjournment. + +Irene Dupreen testified that she was the widow of a physician and lived +at Hazlehurst, Chesset Avenue, St Abbots, with her brother. The deceased +was their nephew, an only child and an orphan, and was aged twelve. He +was a ward of Chancery and the Court had appointed her as guardian, with +an adequate provision for the expenses of his bringing up and education. +That allowance would, of course, cease with her nephew’s death. + +Coming to the particulars of the case, Mrs Dupreen explained that for a +few days the boy had been suffering from a rather severe cold. She had +not thought it necessary to call in a doctor, recognising it as a mild +form of influenza. She had kept him from school and restricted him to +his bedroom. On the previous Wednesday, the day before his death, he was +quite convalescent, with a good pulse and a normal temperature, but as +the weather was cold she decided still to keep him in bed as a measure +of precaution. He had a fair appetite, but did not care for the lunch +they had, and so she had asked him, before going out in the afternoon, +if there was anything that he would especially fancy for his dinner. He +had thereupon expressed a partiality for mushrooms, of which he was +always very fond. + +“I laughed and pulled his ear,” continued the witness, much affected at +her recollection, “and asked him if that was his idea of a suitable dish +for an invalid. But I didn’t think that it really mattered in the least +then, so I went to several shops about them. They all said that +mushrooms were over, but finally I found a few at Lackington’s, the +greengrocer in Park Road. I bought only half-a-pound; no one but Charlie +among us cared for them and I thought that they were already very dry +and rather dear.” + +The connection between the mushrooms and the unfortunate boy’s death +seemed inevitable. When Mrs Dupreen went upstairs after dinner she found +Charlie apparently asleep and breathing soundly. She quietly removed the +tray and without disturbing him turned out the gas and closed the door. +In the middle of the night she was suddenly and startlingly awakened by +something. For a moment she remained confused, listening. Then a curious +sound coming from the direction of the boy’s bedroom drew her there. On +opening the door she was horrified to see her nephew lying on the floor +in a convulsed attitude. His eyes were open and widely dilated; one hand +clutched some bed-clothes which he had dragged down with him, and the +other still grasped the empty water-bottle that had been by his side. +She called loudly for help and her brother and then the servant +appeared. She sent the latter to a medicine cabinet for mustard leaves +and told her brother to get in the nearest available doctor. She had +already lifted Charlie on to the bed again. Before the doctor arrived, +which was in about half-an-hour, the boy was dead. + +In answer to a question the witness stated that she had not seen her +nephew between the time she removed the tray and when she found him ill. +The only other person who had seen him within a few hours of his death +had been her brother, Philip Loudham, who had taken up Charlie’s dinner. +When he came down again he had made the remark: “The youngster seems +lively enough now.” + +Dr Slark was the next witness. His evidence was to the effect that about +three-fifteen on the Thursday morning he was hurriedly called to +Hazlehurst by a gentleman whom he now knew to be Mr Philip Loudham. He +understood that the case was one of convulsions and went provided for +that contingency, but on his arrival he found the patient already dead. +From his own examination and from what he was told he had no hesitation +in diagnosing the case as one of agaric poisoning. He saw no reason to +suspect any of the food except the mushrooms, and all the symptoms +pointed to bhurine, the deadly principle of _Amanita Bhuroides_, or the +Black Cap, as it was popularly called, from its fancied resemblance to +the head-dress assumed by a judge in passing death sentence, coupled +with its sinister and well-merited reputation. It was always fatal. + +Continuing his evidence, Dr Slark explained that only after maturity did +the Black Cap develop its distinctive appearance. Up to that stage it +had many of the characteristics of _Agaricus campestris_, or common +mushroom. It was true that the gills were paler than one would expect to +find, and there were other slight differences of a technical kind, but +all might easily be overlooked in the superficial glance of the +gatherer. The whole subject of edible and noxious fungi was a difficult +one and at present very imperfectly understood. He, personally, very +much doubted if true mushrooms were ever responsible for the cases of +poisoning which one occasionally saw attributed to them. Under +scientific examination he was satisfied that all would resolve +themselves into poisoning by one or other of the many noxious fungi that +could easily be mistaken for the edible varieties. It was possible to +prepare an artificial bed, plant it with proper spawn and be rewarded by +a crop of mushroom-like growth of undoubted virulence. On the other +hand, the injurious constituents of many poisonous fungi passed off in +the process of cooking. There was no handy way of discriminating between +the good and the bad except by the absolute identification of species. +The salt test and the silver-spoon test were all nonsense and the sooner +they were forgotten the better. Apparent mushrooms that were found in +woods or growing in the vicinity of trees or hedges should always be +regarded with the utmost suspicion. + +Dr Slark’s evidence concluded the case so far as the subpœnaed witnesses +were concerned, but before addressing the jury the coroner announced +that another person had expressed a desire to be heard. There was no +reason why they should not accept any evidence that was tendered, and as +the applicant’s name had been mentioned in the case it was only right +that he should have the opportunity of replying publicly. + +Mr Lackington thereupon entered the witness-box and was sworn. He stated +that he was a fruiterer and greengrocer, carrying on a business in Park +Road, St Abbots. He remembered Mrs Dupreen coming to his shop two days +before. The basket of mushrooms from which she was supplied consisted of +a small lot of about six pounds, brought in by a farmer from a +neighbouring village, with whom he had frequent dealings. All had been +disposed of and in no other case had illness resulted. It was a serious +matter to him as a tradesman to have his name associated with a case of +this kind. That was why he had come forward. Not only with regard to +mushrooms, but as a general result, people would become shy of dealing +with him if it was stated that he sold unwholesome goods. + +The coroner, intervening at this point, remarked that he might as well +say that he would direct the jury that, in the event of their finding +the deceased to have died from the effects of the mushrooms or anything +contained among them, there was no evidence other than that the +occurrence was one of pure mischance. + +Mr Lackington expressed his thanks for the assurance, but said that a +bad impression would still remain. He had been in business in St Abbots +for twenty-seven years and during that time he had handled some tons of +mushrooms without a single complaint before. He admitted, in answer to +the interrogation, that he had not actually examined every mushroom of +the half-pound sold to Mrs Dupreen, but he weighed them, and he was +confident that if a toadstool had been among them he would have detected +it. Might it not be a cooking utensil that was the cause? + +Dr Slark shook his head and was understood to say that he could not +accept the suggestion. + +Continuing, Mr Lackington then asked whether it was not possible that +the deceased, doubtless an inquiring, adventurous boy and as mischievous +as most of his kind, feeling quite well again and being confined to the +house, had got up in his aunt’s absence and taken something that would +explain this sad affair? They had heard of a medicine cabinet. What +about tablets of trional or veronal or something of that sort that might +perhaps look like sweets?----It was all very well for Dr Slark to laugh, +but this matter was a serious one for the witness. + +Dr Slark apologised for smiling--he had not laughed--and gravely +remarked that the matter was a serious one for all concerned in the +inquiry. He admitted that the reference to trional and veronal in this +connection had, for the moment, caused him to forget the surroundings. +He would suggest that in the circumstances perhaps the coroner would +think it desirable to order a more detailed examination of the body to +be made. + +After some further discussion the coroner, while remarking that in most +cases an analysis was quite unnecessary, decided that in view of what +had transpired it would be more satisfactory to have a complete autopsy +carried out. The inquest was accordingly adjourned. + +A week later most of those who had taken part in the first inquiry +assembled again in the room of the St Abbots Town Hall which did duty +for the Coroner’s Court. Only one witness was heard and his evidence was +brief and conclusive. + +Dr Herbert Ingpenny, consulting pathologist to St Martin’s Hospital, +stated that he had made an examination of the contents of the stomach +and viscera of the deceased. He found evidence of the presence of the +poison bhurine in sufficient quantity to account for the boy’s death, +and the symptoms, as described by Dr Slark and Mrs Dupreen in the course +of the previous hearing, were consistent with bhurine poisoning. Bhurine +did not occur naturally except as a constituent of _Amanita Bhuroides_. +One-fifth of a grain would be fatal to an adult; in other words, a +single fungus in the dish might poison three people. A child, especially +if experiencing the effects of a weakening illness, would be even more +susceptible. No other harmful substance was present. + +Dr Ingpenny concluded by saying that he endorsed his colleague’s general +remarks on the subject of mushrooms and other fungi, and the jury, after +a plain direction from the coroner, forthwith brought in a verdict in +accordance with the medical evidence. + +It was a foregone conclusion with anyone who knew the facts or had +followed the evidence. Yet five days later Philip Loudham was arrested +suddenly and charged with the astounding crime of having murdered his +nephew. + +It is at this point that Max Carrados makes his first appearance in the +Winpole tragedy. + +A few days after the arrest, being in a particularly urbane frame of +mind himself, and having several hours with no demands on them that +could not be fitly transferred to his subordinates, Mr Carlyle looked +round for some social entertainment and with a benevolent condescension +very opportunely remembered the existence of his niece living at Groat’s +Heath. + +“Elsie will be delighted,” he assented to the suggestion. “She is rather +out of the world up there, I imagine. Now if I get there at four, put in +a couple of hours....” + +Mrs Bellmark was certainly pleased, but she appeared to be still more +surprised, and behind that lay an effervescence of excitement that even +to Mr Carlyle’s complacent self-esteem seemed out of proportion to the +occasion. The reason could not be long withheld. + +“Did you meet anyone, Uncle Louis?” was almost her first inquiry. + +“Did I meet anyone?” repeated Mr Carlyle with his usual precision. “Um, +no, I cannot say that I met anyone particular. Of course----” + +“I’ve had a visitor and he’s coming back again for tea. Guess who it is? +But you never will. Mr Carrados.” + +“Max Carrados!” exclaimed her uncle in astonishment. “You don’t say so. +Why, bless my soul, Elsie, I’d almost forgotten that you knew him. It +seems years ago----What on earth is Max doing in Groat’s Heath?” + +“That is the extraordinary thing about it,” replied Mrs Bellmark. “He +said that he had come up here to look for mushrooms.” + +“Mushrooms?” + +“Yes; that was what he said. He asked me if I knew of any woods about +here that he could go into and I told him of the one down Stonecut +Lane.” + +“But don’t you know, my dear child,” exclaimed Mr Carlyle, “that +mushrooms growing in woods or even near trees are always to be regarded +with suspicion? They may look like mushrooms, but they are probably +poisonous.” + +“I didn’t know,” admitted Mrs Bellmark; “but if they are, I imagine Mr +Carrados will know.” + +“It scarcely sounds like it--going to a wood, you know. As it happens, I +have been looking up the subject lately. But, in any case, you say that +he is coming back here?” + +“He asked me if he might call on his way home for a cup of tea, and of +course I said, ‘Of course.’” + +“Of course,” also said Mr Carlyle. “Motoring, I suppose.” + +“Yes, a big grey car. He had Mr Parkinson with him.” + +Mr Carlyle was slightly puzzled, as he frequently was by his friend’s +proceedings, but it was not his custom to dwell on any topic that +involved an admission of inadequacy. The subject of Carrados and his +eccentric quest was therefore dismissed until the sound of a formidable +motor car dominating the atmosphere of the quiet suburban road was +almost immediately followed by the entrance of the blind amateur. With a +knowing look towards his niece Carlyle had taken up a position at the +farther end of the room, where he remained in almost breathless silence. + +Carrados acknowledged the hostess’s smiling greeting and then nodded +familiarly in the direction of the playful guest. + +“Well, Louis,” he remarked, “we’ve caught each other.” + +Mrs Bellmark was perceptibly startled, but rippled musically at the +failure of the conspiracy. + +“Extraordinary,” admitted Mr Carlyle, coming forward. + +“Not so very,” was the dry reply. “Your friendly little maid”--to Mrs +Bellmark--“mentioned your visitor as she brought me in.” + +“Is it a fact, Max,” demanded Mr Carlyle, “that you have been +to--er--Stonecut Wood to get mushrooms?” + +“Mrs Bellmark told you?” + +“Yes. And did you succeed?” + +“Parkinson found something that he assured me looked just like +mushrooms.” + +Mr Carlyle bestowed a triumphant glance on his niece. + +“I should very much like to see these so-called mushrooms. Do you know, +it may be rather a good thing for you that I met you.” + +“It is always a good thing for me to meet you,” replied Carrados. “You +shall see them. They are in the car. Perhaps I shall be able to take you +back to town?” + +“If you are going very soon. No, no, Elsie”--in response to Mrs +Bellmark’s protesting “Oh!”--“I don’t want to influence Max, but I +really must tear myself away the moment after tea. I still have to clear +up some work on a rather important case I am just completing. It is +quite appropriate to the occasion, too. Do you know all about the +Winpole business, Max?” + +“No,” admitted Carrados, without any appreciable show of interest. “Do +you, Louis?” + +“Yes,” responded Mr Carlyle with crisp assurance, “yes, I think that I +may claim I do. In fact it was I who obtained the evidence that induced +the authorities to take up the case against Loudham.” + +“Oh, do tell us all about it,” exclaimed Elsie. “I have only seen +something in the _Indicator_.” + +Mr Carlyle shook his head, hemmed and looked wise, and then gave in. + +“But not a word of this outside, Elsie,” he stipulated. “Some of the +evidence won’t be given until next week and it might be serious----” + +“Not a syllable,” assented the lady. “How exciting! Go on.” + +“Well, you know, of course, that the coroner’s jury--very rightly, +according to the evidence before them--brought in a verdict of +accidental death. In the circumstances it was a reflection on the +business methods or the care or the knowledge or whatever one may decide +of the man who sold the mushrooms, a greengrocer called Lackington. I +have seen Lackington, and with a rather remarkable pertinacity in the +face of the evidence he insists that he could not have made this fatal +blunder--that in weighing so small a quantity as half-a-pound, at any +rate, he would at once have spotted anything that wasn’t quite all +right.” + +“But the doctor said, Uncle Louis----” + +“Yes, my dear Elsie, we know what the doctor said, but, rightly or +wrongly, Lackington backs his experience and practical knowledge against +theoretical generalities. In ordinary circumstances nothing more would +have come of it, but it happens that Lackington has for a lodger a young +man on the staff of the local paper, and for a neighbour a +pharmaceutical chemist. These three men talked things over more than +once--Lackington restive under the damage that had been done to his +reputation, the journalist stimulating and keen for a newspaper +sensation, the chemist contributing his quota of practical knowledge. At +the end of a few days a fabric of circumstance had been woven which +might be serious or innocent according to the further development of the +suggestion and the manner in which it could be met. These were the chief +points of the attack: + +“Mrs Dupreen’s allowance for the care and maintenance of Charlie Winpole +ceased with his death, as she had told the jury. What she did not +mention was that the deceased boy would have come into an inheritance of +some fifteen thousand pounds at age and that this fortune now fell in +equal shares to the lot of his two nearest relatives--Mrs Dupreen and +her brother Philip. + +“Mrs Dupreen was by no means in easy circumstances. Philip Loudham was +equally poor and had no assured income. He had tried several forms of +business and now, at about thirty-five, was spending his time chiefly in +writing poems and painting watercolours, none of which brought him any +money so far as one could learn. + +“Philip Loudham, it was admitted, took up the food round which the +tragedy centred. + +“Philip Loudham was shown to be in debt and urgently in need of money. +There was supposed to be a lady in the case--I hope I need say no more, +Elsie.” + +“Who is she?” asked Mrs Bellmark with poignant interest. + +“We do not know yet. A married woman, it is rumoured, I regret to say. +It scarcely matters--certainly not to you, Elsie. To continue: + +“Mrs Dupreen got back from her shopping in the afternoon before her +nephew’s death at about three o’clock. In less than half-an-hour Loudham +left the house and going to the station took a return ticket to Euston. +He went by the 3.41 and was back in St Abbots at 5.43. That would give +him barely an hour in town for whatever business he transacted. What was +that business? + +“The chemist next door supplied the information that although bhurine +only occurs in nature in this one form, it can be isolated from the +other constituents of the fungus and dealt with like any other liquid +poison. But it was a very exceptional commodity, having no commercial +uses and probably not half-a-dozen retail chemists in London had it on +their shelves. He himself had never stocked it and never been asked for +it. + +“With this suggestive but by no means convincing evidence,” continued Mr +Carlyle, “the young journalist went to the editor of _The Morning +Indicator_, to which he acted as St Abbots correspondent, and asked him +whether he cared to take up the inquiry as a ‘scoop.’ The local trio had +carried it as far as they were able. The editor of the _Indicator_ +decided to look into it and asked me to go on with the case. This is how +my connection with it arose.” + +“Oh, that’s how newspapers get to know things?” commented Mrs Bellmark. +“I often wondered.” + +“It is one way,” assented her uncle. + +“An American development,” contributed Carrados. “It is a little +overdone there.” + +“It must be awful,” said the hostess. “And the police methods! In the +plays that come from the States----” The entrance of the friendly +handmaiden, bringing tea, was responsible for this platitudinous wave. +The conversation, in deference to Mr Carlyle’s scruples, marked time +until the door closed on her departure. + +“My first business,” continued the inquiry agent, after making himself +useful at the table, “was naturally to discover among the chemists in +London whether a sale of bhurine coincided with Philip Loudham’s hasty +visit. If this line failed, the very foundation of the edifice of +hypothetical guilt gave way; if it succeeded.... Well, it did succeed. +In a street off Caistor Square, Tottenham Court Road--Trenion Street--we +found a man called Lightcraft, who at once remembered making such a +sale. As bhurine is a specified poison, the transaction would have to be +entered, and Lightcraft’s book contained this unassailable piece of +evidence. On Wednesday, the sixth of this month, a man signing his name +as ‘J. D. Williams,’ and giving ‘25 Chalcott Place’ as the address, +purchased four drachms of bhurine. Lightcraft fixed the time as about +half-past four. I went to 25 Chalcott Place and found it to be a small +boarding-house. No one of the name of Williams was known there.” + +If Mr Carlyle’s tone of finality went for anything, Philip Loudham was +as good as pinioned. Mrs Bellmark supplied the expected note of +admiration. + +“Just fancy!” was the form it took. + +“Under the Act the purchaser must be known to the chemist?” suggested +Carrados. + +“Yes,” agreed Mr Carlyle; “and there our friend Lightcraft may have let +himself in for a little trouble. But, as he says--and we must admit that +there is something in it--who is to define what ‘known to’ actually +means? A hundred people are known to him as regular or occasional +customers and he has never heard their names; a score of names and +addresses represent to him regular or occasional customers whom he has +never seen. This ‘J. D. Williams’ came in with an easy air and appeared +at all events to know Lightcraft. The face seemed not unfamiliar and +Lightcraft was perhaps a little too facile in assuming that he _did_ +know him. Well, well, Max, I can understand the circumstances. +Competition is keen--especially against the private chemist--and one may +give offence and lose a customer. We must all live.” + +“Except Charlie Winpole,” occurred to Max Carrados, but he left the +retort unspoken. “Did you happen to come across any inquiry for bhurine +at other shops?” he asked instead. + +“No,” replied Carlyle, “no, I did not. It would have been an indication +then, of course, but after finding the actual place the others would +have no significance. Why do you ask?” + +“Oh, nothing. Only don’t you think that he was rather lucky to get it +first shot if our St Abbots authority was right?” + +“Yes, yes; perhaps he was. But that is of no interest to us now. The +great thing is that a peculiarly sinister and deliberate murder is +brought home to its perpetrator. When you consider the circumstances, +upon my soul, I don’t know that I have ever unmasked a more ingenious +and cold-blooded ruffian.” + +“Then he has confessed, uncle?” + +“Confessed, my dear Elsie,” said Mr Carlyle, with a tolerant smile, “no, +he has not confessed--men of that type never do. On the contrary, he +asserted his outraged innocence with a considerable show of indignation. +What else was he to do? Then he was asked to account for his movements +between 4.15 and 5 o’clock on that afternoon. Egad, the fellow was so +cocksure of the safety of his plans that he hadn’t even taken the +trouble to think that out. First he denied that he had been away from St +Abbots at all. Then he remembered. He had run down to town in the +afternoon for a few things.--What things?--Well, chiefly +stationery.--Where had he bought it?--At a shop in Oxford Street; he did +not know the name.--Would he be able to point it out?--He thought +so.--Could he identify the attendant?--No, he could not remember him in +the least.--Had he the bill?--No, he never kept small bills.--How much +was the amount?--About three or four shillings.--And the return fare to +Euston was three-and-eight-pence. Was it not rather an extravagant +journey?--He could only say that he did so.--Three or four shillings’ +worth of stationery would be a moderate parcel. Did he have it +sent?--No, he took it with him.--Three or four shillings’ worth of +stationery in his pocket?--No, it was in a parcel.--Too large to go in +his pocket?--Yes.--Two independent witnesses would testify that he +carried no parcel. They were townsmen of St Abbots who had travelled +down in the same carriage with him. Did he still persist that he had +been engaged in buying stationery? Then he declined to say anything +further--about the best thing he could do.” + +“And Lightcraft identifies him?” + +“Um, well, not quite so positively as we might wish. You see, a +fortnight has elapsed. The man who bought the poison wore a +moustache--put on, of course--but Lightcraft will say that there is a +resemblance and the type of the two men the same.” + +“I foresee that Mr Lightcraft’s accommodating memory for faces will come +in for rather severe handling in cross-examination,” said Carrados, as +though he rather enjoyed the prospect. + +“It will balance Mr Philip Loudham’s unfortunate forgetfulness for +localities, Max,” rejoined Mr Carlyle, delivering the thrust with his +own inimitable aplomb. + +Carrados rose with smiling acquiescence to the shrewdness of the +riposte. + +“I will be quite generous, Mrs Bellmark,” he observed. “I will take him +away now, with the memory of that lingering in your ears--all my +crushing retorts unspoken.” + +“Five-thirty, egad!” exclaimed Mr Carlyle, displaying his imposing gold +watch. “We must--or, at all events, I must. You can think of them in the +car, Max.” + +“I do hope you won’t come to blows,” murmured the lady. Then she added: +“When will the real trial come on, Uncle Louis?” + +“The Sessions? Oh, early in January.” + +“I must remember to look out for it.” Possibly she had some faint idea +of Uncle Louis taking a leading part in the proceedings. At any rate Mr +Carlyle looked pleased, but when adieux had been taken and the door was +closed Mrs Bellmark was left wondering what the enigma of Max Carrados’s +departing smile had been. + +Before they had covered many furlongs Mr Carlyle suddenly remembered the +suspected mushrooms and demanded to see them. A very moderate collection +was produced for his inspection. He turned them over sceptically. + +“The gills are too pale for true mushrooms, Max,” he declared sapiently. +“Don’t take any risk. Let me drop them out of the window?” + +“No.” Carrados’s hand quietly arrested the threatened action. “No; I +have a use for them, Louis, but it is not culinary. You are quite right; +they are rank poison. I only want to study them for ... a case I am +interested in.” + +“A case! You don’t mean to say that there is another mushroom poisoner +going?” + +“No; it is the same.” + +“But--but you said----” + +“That I did not know all about it? Quite true. Nor do I yet. But I know +rather more than I did then.” + +“Do you mean that Scotland Yard----” + +“No, Louis.” Mr Carrados appeared to find something rather amusing in +the situation. “I am for the other side.” + +“The other side! And you let me babble out the whole case for the +prosecution! Well, really, Max!” + +“But you are out of it now? The Public Prosecutor has taken it up?” + +“True, true. But, for all that, I feel devilishly bad.” + +“Then I will give you the whole case for the defence and so we shall be +quits. In fact I am relying on you to help me with it.” + +“With the defence? I--after supplying the evidence that the Public +Prosecutor is acting on?” + +“Why not? You don’t want to hang Philip Loudham--especially if he +happens to be innocent--do you?” + +“I don’t want to hang anyone,” protested Mr Carlyle. “At least--not--as +a private individual.” + +“Quite so. Well, suppose you and I between ourselves find out the actual +facts of the case and decide what is to be done. The more usual course +is for the prosecution to exaggerate all that tells against the accused +and to contradict everything in his favour; for the defence to advance +fictitious evidence of innocence and to lie roundly on everything that +endangers his client; while on both sides witnesses are piled up to +bemuse the jury into accepting the desired version. That does not always +make for impartiality or for justice.... Now you and I are two +reasonable men, Louis----” + +“I hope so,” admitted Mr Carlyle. “I hope so.” + +“You can give away the case for the prosecution and I will expose the +weakness of the defence, so, between us, we may arrive at the truth.” + +“It strikes me as a deuced irregular proceeding. But I am curious to +hear the defence all the same.” + +“You are welcome to all of it that there yet is. An alibi, of course.” + +“Ah!” commented Mr Carlyle with expression. + +“So recently as yesterday a lady came hurriedly, and with a certain +amount of secrecy, to see me. She came on the strength of the +introduction afforded by a mutual acquaintanceship with Fromow, the +Greek professor. When we were alone she asked me, besought me, in fact, +to tell her what to do. A few hours before Mrs Dupreen had rushed across +London to her with the tale of young Loudham’s arrest. Then out came the +whole story. This woman--well, her name is Guestling, Louis--lives a +little way down in Surrey and is married. Her husband, according to her +own account--and I have certainly heard a hint about it elsewhere--leads +her a studiedly outrageous existence; an admired silken-mannered +gentleman in society, a tolerable pole-cat at home, one infers. About a +year ago Mrs Guestling made the acquaintance of Loudham, who was staying +in that neighbourhood painting his pretty unsaleable country lanes and +golden sunsets. The inevitable, or, to accept the lady’s protestations, +half the inevitable, followed. Guestling, who adds an insatiable +jealousy to his other domestic virtues, vetoed the new acquaintance and +thenceforward the two met hurriedly and furtively in town. Had either of +them any money they might have snatched their destinies from the hands +of Fate and gone off together, but she has nothing and he has nothing +and both, I suppose, are poor weak mortals when it comes to doing +anything courageous and outright in this censorious world. So they +drifted, drifting but not yet wholly wrecked.” + +“A formidable incentive for a weak and desperate man to secure a fortune +by hook or crook, Max,” said Carlyle drily. + +“That is the motive that I wish to make you a present of. But, as you +will insist on your side, it is also a motive for a weak and foolish +couple to steal every brief opportunity of a secret meeting. On +Wednesday, the sixth, the lady was returning home from a visit to some +friends in the Midlands. She saw in the occasion an opportunity, and on +the morning of the sixth a message appeared in the personal column of +_The Daily Telegraph_--their usual channel of communication--making an +assignation. That much can be established by the irrefutable evidence of +the newspaper. Philip Loudham kept the appointment and for half-an-hour +this miserably happy pair sat holding each other’s hands in a dreary +deserted waiting-room of Bishop’s Road Station. That half-hour was from +4.15 to 4.45. Then Loudham saw Mrs Guestling into Praed Street Station +for Victoria, returned to Euston and just caught the 5.7 St Abbots.” + +“Can this be corroborated--especially as regards the precise time they +were together?” + +“Not a word of it. They chose the waiting-room at Bishop’s Road for +seclusion and apparently they got it. Not a soul even looked in while +they were there.” + +“Then, by Jupiter, Max,” exclaimed Mr Carlyle with emotion, “you have +hanged your client!” + +Carrados could not restrain a smile at his friend’s tragic note of +triumph. + +“Well, let us examine the rope,” he said with his usual +imperturbability. + +“Here it is.” It was a trivial enough shred of evidence that the inquiry +agent took from his pocket-book and put into the expectant hand; in +point of fact, the salmon-coloured ticket of a “London General” motor +omnibus. + +“Royal Oak--the stage nearest Paddington--to Tottenham Court Road--the +point nearest Trenion Street,” he added significantly. + +“Yes,” acquiesced Carrados, taking it. + +“The man who bought the bhurine dropped that ticket on the floor of the +shop. He left the door open and Lightcraft followed him to close it. +That is how he came to pick the ticket up, and he remembers that it was +not there before. Then he threw it into a waste-paper basket underneath +the counter, and that is where we found it when I called on him.” + +“Mr Lightcraft’s memory fascinates me, Louis,” was the blind man’s +unruffled comment. “Let us drop in and have a chat with him?” + +“Do you really think that there is anything more to be got in that +quarter?” queried Carlyle dubiously. “I have turned him inside out, you +may be sure.” + +“True; but we approach Mr Lightcraft from different angles. You were +looking for evidence to prove young Loudham guilty. I am looking for +evidence to prove him innocent.” + +“Very well, Max,” acquiesced his companion. “Only don’t blame me if it +turns out as deuced awkward for your man as Mrs G. has done. Shall I +tell you what a counsel may be expected to put to the jury as the +explanation of that lady’s evidence?” + +“No, thanks,” said Carrados half sleepily from his corner. “I know. I +told her so.” + +“Oh, very well. I needn’t inform you, then,” and debarred of that +satisfaction Mr Carlyle withdrew himself into his own corner, where he +nursed an indulgent annoyance against the occasional perversity of Max +Carrados until the stopping of the car and the variegated attractions +displayed in a shop window told him where they were. + +Mr Lightcraft made no pretence of being glad to see his visitors. For +some time he declined to open his mouth at all on the subject that had +brought them there, repeating with parrot-like obstinacy to every remark +on their part, “The matter is _sub judice_. I am unable to say anything +further,” until Mr Carlyle longed to box his ears and bring him to his +senses. The ears happened to be rather prominent, for they glowed with +sensitiveness, and the chemist was otherwise a lank and pallid man, +whose transparent ivory skin and well-defined moustache gave him +something of the appearance of a waxwork. + +“At all events,” interposed Carrados, when his friend turned from the +maddening reiteration in despair, “you don’t mind telling me a few +things about bhurine--apart from this particular connection?” + +“I am very busy,” and Mr Lightcraft, with his back towards the shop, did +something superfluous among the bottles on a shelf. + +“I imagine that the time of Mr Max Carrados, of whom even you may +possibly have heard, is as valuable as yours, my good friend,” put in Mr +Carlyle with scandalised dignity. + +“Mr Carrados?” Lightcraft turned and regarded the blind man with +interest. “I did not know. But you must recognise the unenviable +position in which I am put by this gentleman’s interference.” + +“It is his profession, you know,” said Carrados mildly, “and, in any +case, it would certainly have been someone. Why not help me to get you +out of the position?” + +“How is that possible?” + +“If the case against Philip Loudham breaks down and he is discharged at +the next hearing you would not be called upon further.” + +“That would certainly be a mitigation. But why should it break down?” + +“Suppose you let me try the taste of bhurine,” suggested Carrados. “You +have some left?” + +“Max, Max!” cried Mr Carlyle’s warning voice, “aren’t you aware that the +stuff is a deadly poison? One-fifth of a grain----” + +“Mr Lightcraft will know how to administer it.” + +Apparently Mr Lightcraft did. He filled a graduated measure with cold +water, dipped a slender glass rod into a bottle that was not kept on the +shelves, and with it stirred the water. Then into another vessel of +water he dropped a single spot of the dilution. + +“One in a hundred and twenty-five thousand, Mr Carrados,” he said, +offering him the mixture. + +Carrados just touched the liquid with his lips, considered the +impression and then wiped his mouth. + +“Now for the smell.” + +The unstoppered bottle was handed to him and he took in its exhalation. + +“Stewed mushrooms!” was his comment. “What is it used for, Mr +Lightcraft?” + +“Nothing that I know of.” + +“But your customer must have stated an application.” + +The pallid chemist flushed a little at the recollection of that +incident. + +“Yes,” he conceded. “There is a good deal about the whole business that +is still a mystery to me. The man came in shortly after I had lit up and +nodded familiarly as he said: ‘Good-evening, Mr Lightcraft.’ I naturally +assumed that he was someone whom I could not quite place. ‘I want +another half-pound of nitre,’ he said, and I served him. Had he bought +nitre before, I have since tried to recall and I cannot. It is a common +enough article and I sell it every day. I have a poor memory for faces I +am willing to admit. It has hampered me in business many a time. We +chatted about nothing in particular as I did up the parcel. After he had +paid and turned to go he looked back again. ‘By the way, do you happen +to have any bhurine?’ he inquired. Unfortunately I had a few ounces. ‘Of +course you know its nature?’ I cautioned him. ‘May I ask what you +require it for?’ He nodded and held up the parcel of nitre he had in his +hand. ‘The same thing,’ he replied, ‘taxidermy.’ Then I supplied him +with half-an-ounce.” + +“As a matter of fact, is it used in taxidermy?” + +“It does not seem to be. I have made inquiry and no one knows of it. +Nitre is largely used, and some of the dangerous poisons--arsenic and +mercuric chloride, for instance--but not this. No, it was a subterfuge.” + +“Now the poison book, if you please.” + +Mr Lightcraft produced it without demur and the blind man ran his finger +along the indicated line. + +“Yes; this is quite satisfactory. Is it a fact, Mr Lightcraft, that not +half-a-dozen chemists in London stock this particular substance? We are +told that.” + +“I can quite believe it. I certainly don’t know of another.” + +“Strangely enough, your customer of the sixth seems to have come +straight here. Do you issue a price-list?” + +“Only a localised one of certain photographic goods. Bhurine is not +included.” + +“You can suggest no reason why Mr Phillip Loudham should be inspired to +presume that he would be able to procure this unusual drug from you? You +have never corresponded with him nor come across his name or address +before?” + +“No. As far as I can recollect, I know nothing whatever of him.” + +“Then as yet you must assume that it was pure chance. By the way, Mr +Lightcraft, how does it come that _you_ stock this rare poison, which +has no commercial use and for which there is no demand?” + +The chemist permitted himself to smile at the blunt terms of the +inquiry. + +“In the ordinary way I don’t stock it,” he replied. “This is a small +quantity which I had over from my own use.” + +“Your own use? Oh, then it has a use after all?” + +“No, scarcely that. Some time ago it leaked out in a corner of the +photographic world that a great revolution in colour photography was on +the point of realisation by the use of bhurine in one of the processes. +I, among others, at once took it up. Unfortunately it was another +instance of a discovery that is correct in theory breaking down in +practice. Nothing came of it.” + +“Dear, dear me,” said Carrados softly, with sympathetic understanding in +his voice; “what a pity. You are interested in photography, Mr +Lightcraft?” + +“It is the hobby of my life, sir. Of course most chemists dabble in it +as a part of their business, but I devote all my spare time to +experimenting. Colour photography in particular.” + +“Colour photography; yes. It has a great future. This bhurine process--I +suppose it would have been of considerable financial value if it had +worked?” + +Mr Lightcraft laughed quietly and rubbed his hands together. For the +moment he had forgotten Loudham and the annoying case and lived in his +enthusiasm. + +“I should rather say it would, Mr Carrados,” he replied. “It would have +been the most epoch-marking thing since Gaudin produced the first dry +plate in ’54. Consider it--the elaborate processes of Dyndale, Eiloff +and Jupp reduced to the simplicity of a single contact print giving the +entire range of chromatic variation. Financially it will scarcely bear +thinking about by artificial light.” + +“Was it widely taken up?” asked Carrados. + +“The bhurine idea?” + +“Yes. You spoke of the secret leaking out. Were many in the know?” + +“Not at all. The group of initiates was only a small one and I should +imagine that, on reflection, every man kept it to himself. It certainly +never became public. Then when the theory was definitely exploded, of +course no one took any further interest in it.” + +“Were all who were working on the same lines known to you, Mr +Lightcraft?” + +“Well, yes; more or less I suppose they would be,” said the chemist +thoughtfully. “You see, the man who stumbled on the formula was a member +of the Iris--a society of those interested in this subject, of which I +was the secretary--and I don’t think it ever got beyond the committee.” + +“How long ago was this?” + +“A year--eighteen months. It led to unpleasantness and broke up the +society.” + +“Suppose it happened to come to your knowledge that one of the original +circle was quietly pursuing his experiments on the same lines with +bhurine--what should you infer from it?” + +Mr Lightcraft considered. Then he regarded Carrados with a sharp, almost +a startled, glance and then he fell to biting his nails in perplexed +uncertainty. + +“It would depend on who it was,” he replied. + +“Was there by any chance one who was unknown to you by sight but whose +address you were familiar with?” + +“Paulden!” exclaimed Mr Lightcraft. “Paulden, by heaven! I do believe +you’re right. He was the ablest of the lot and he never came to the +meetings--a corresponding member. Southem, the original man who struck +the idea, knew Paulden and told him of it. Southem was an impractical +genius who would never be able to make anything work. Paulden--yes, +Paulden it was who finally persuaded Southem that there was nothing in +it. He sent a report to the same effect to be read at one of the +meetings. So Paulden is taking up bhurine again----” + +“Where does he live?” inquired Carrados. + +“Ivor House, Wilmington Lane, Enstead. As secretary I have written there +a score of times.” + +“It is on the Great Western--Paddington,” commented the blind man. +“Still, can you get out the addresses of the others in the know, Mr +Lightcraft?” + +“Certainly, certainly. I have the book of membership. But I am convinced +now that Paulden was the man. I believe that I did actually see him once +some years ago, but he has grown a moustache since.” + +“If you had been convinced of that a few days ago it would have saved us +some awkwardness,” volunteered Mr Carlyle with a little dignified +asperity. + +“When you came before, Mr Carlyle, you were so convinced yourself of it +being Mr Loudham that you wouldn’t hear of me thinking of anyone else,” +retorted the chemist. “You will bear me out also that I never positively +identified him as my customer. Now here is the book. Southem, Potter’s +Bar. Voynich, Islington. Crawford, Streatham Hill. Brown, Southampton +Row. Vickers, Clapham Common. Tidey, Fulham. All those I knew quite +well--associated with them week after week. Williams I didn’t know so +closely. He is dead. Bigwood has gone to Canada. I don’t think anyone +else was in the bhurine craze--as we called it afterwards.” + +“But now? What would you call it now?” queried Carrados. + +“Now? Well, I hope that you will get me out of having to turn up at +court and that sort of thing, Mr Carrados. If Paulden is going on +experimenting with bhurine again on the sly I shall want all my spare +time to do the same myself!” + +A few hours later the two investigators rang the bell of a substantial +detached house in Enstead, the little country town twenty miles out in +Berkshire, and asked to see Mr Paulden. + +“It is no good taking Lightcraft to identify the man,” Carrados had +decided. “If Paulden denied it, our friend’s obliging record in that +line would put him out of court.” + +“I maintain an open mind on the subject,” Carlyle had replied. +“Lightcraft is admittedly a very bending reed, but there is no reason +why he should not have been right before and wrong to-day.” + +They were shown into a ceremonial reception-room to wait. Mr Carlyle +diagnosed snug circumstances and the tastes of an indoors, +comfort-loving man in the surroundings. + +The door opened, but it was to admit a middle-aged, matronly lady with +good-humour and domestic capability proclaimed by every detail of her +smiling face and easy manner. + +“You wished to see my husband?” she asked with friendly courtesy. + +“Mr Paulden? Yes, we should like to,” replied Carlyle, with his most +responsive urbanity. “It is a matter that need not occupy more than a +few minutes.” + +“He is very busy just now. If it has to do with the election”--a local +contest was at its height--“he is not interested in politics and +scarcely ever votes.” Her manner was not curious, but merely reflected a +business-like desire to save trouble all round. + +“Very sensible too, ve-ry sensible indeed,” almost warbled Mr Carlyle +with instinctive cajolery. “After all,” he continued, mendaciously +appropriating as his own an aphorism at which he had laughed heartily a +few days before in the theatre, “after all, what does an election do but +change the colour of the necktie of the man who picks our pockets? No, +no, Mrs Paulden, it is merely a--um--quite personal matter.” + +The lady looked from one to the other with smiling amiability. + +“Some little mystery,” her expression seemed to say. “All right; I don’t +mind, only perhaps I could help you if I knew.” + +“Mr Paulden is in his dark-room now,” was what she actually did say. “I +am afraid, I am really afraid that I shan’t be able to persuade him to +come out unless I can take a definite message.” + +“One understands the difficulty of tempting an enthusiast from his +work,” suggested Carrados, speaking for the first time. “Would it be +permissible to take us to the door of the dark-room, Mrs Paulden, and +let us speak to your husband through it?” + +“We can try that way,” she acquiesced readily, “if it is really so +important.” + +“I think so,” he replied. + +The dark-room lay across the hall. Mrs Paulden conducted them to the +door, waited a moment and then knocked quietly. + +“Yes?” sang out a voice, rather irritably one might judge, from inside. + +“Two gentlemen have called to see you about something, Lance----” + +“I cannot see anyone when I am in here,” interrupted the voice with +rising sharpness. “You know that, Clara----” + +“Yes, dear,” she said soothingly; “but listen. They are at the door here +and if you can spare the time just to come and speak you will know +without much trouble if their business is as important as they think.” + +“Wait a minute,” came the reply after a moment’s pause, and then they +heard someone approach the door from the other side. + +It was a little difficult to know exactly how it happened in the obscure +light of the corner of the hall. Carrados had stepped nearer to the door +to speak. Possibly he trod on Mr Carlyle’s toe, for there was a confused +movement; certainly he put out his hand hastily to recover himself. The +next moment the door of the dark-room jerked open, the light was let in +and the warm odours of a mixed and vitiated atmosphere rolled out. +Secure in the well-ordered discipline of his excellent household, Mr +Paulden had neglected the precaution of locking himself in. + +“Confound it all,” shouted the incensed experimenter in a towering rage, +“confound it all, you’ve spoiled the whole thing now!” + +“Dear me,” apologised Carrados penitently, “I am so sorry. I think it +must have been my fault, do you know. Does it really matter?” + +“Matter!” stormed Mr Paulden, recklessly flinging open the door fully +now to come face to face with his disturbers--“matter letting a flood of +light into a dark-room in the middle of a delicate experiment!” + +“Surely it was very little,” persisted Carrados. + +“Pshaw,” snarled the angry gentleman; “it was enough. You know the +difference between light and dark, I suppose?” + +Mr Carlyle suddenly found himself holding his breath, wondering how on +earth Max had conjured that opportune challenge to the surface. + +“No,” was the mild and deprecating reply--the appeal _ad misericordiam_ +that had never failed him yet--“no, unfortunately I don’t, for I am +blind. That is why I am so awkward.” + +Out of the shocked silence Mrs Paulden gave a little croon of pity. The +moment before she had been speechless with indignation on her husband’s +behalf. Paulden felt as though he had struck a suffering animal. He +stammered an apology and turned away to close the unfortunate door. Then +he began to walk slowly down the hall. + +“You wished to see me about something?” he remarked, with matter-of-fact +civility. “Perhaps we had better go in here.” He indicated the +reception-room where they had waited and followed them in. The admirable +Mrs Paulden gave no indication of wishing to join the party. + +Carrados came to the point at once. + +“Mr Carlyle,” he said, indicating his friend, “has recently been acting +for the prosecution in a case of alleged poisoning that the Public +Prosecutor has now taken up. I am interested in the defence. Both sides +are thus before you, Mr Paulden.” + +“How does this concern me?” asked Paulden with obvious surprise. + +“You are experimenting with bhurine. The victim of this alleged crime +undoubtedly lost his life by bhurine poisoning. Do you mind telling us +when and where you acquired your stock of this scarce substance?” + +“I have had----” + +“No--a moment, Mr Paulden, before you reply,” struck in Carrados with +arresting hand. “You must understand that nothing so grotesque as to +connect you with a crime is contemplated. But a man is under arrest and +the chief point against him is the half-ounce of bhurine that Lightcraft +of Trenion Street sold to someone at half-past five last Wednesday +fortnight. Before you commit yourself to any statement that it may +possibly be difficult to recede from, you should realise that this +inquiry will be pushed to the very end.” + +“How do you know that I am using bhurine?” + +“That,” parried Carrados, “is a blind man’s secret.” + +“Oh, well. And you say that someone has been arrested through this +fact?” + +“Yes. Possibly you have read something of the St Abbots mushroom +poisoning case?” + +“I have no interest in the sensational ephemera of the Press. Very well; +it was I who bought the bhurine from Lightcraft that Wednesday +afternoon. I gave a false name and address, I must admit. I had a +sufficient private reason for so doing.” + +“This knocks what is vulgarly termed ‘the stuffing’ out of the case for +the prosecution,” observed Carlyle, who had been taking a note. “It may +also involve you in some trouble yourself, Mr Paulden.” + +“I don’t think that you need regard that very seriously in the +circumstances,” said Carrados reassuringly. + +“They must find some scapegoat, you know,” persisted Mr Carlyle. +“Loudham will raise Cain over it.” + +“I don’t think so. Loudham, as the prosecution will roundly tell him, +has only himself to thank for not giving a satisfactory account of his +movements. Loudham will be lectured, Lightcraft will be fined the +minimum, and Mr Paulden will, I imagine, be told not to do it again.” + +The man before them laughed bitterly. + +“There will be no occasion to do it again,” he remarked. “Do you know +anything of the circumstances?” + +“Lightcraft told us something connected with colour photography. You +distrust Mr Lightcraft, I infer?” + +Mr Paulden came down to the heart-easing medium of the street. + +“I’ve had some once, thanks,” was what he said with terse expression. +“Let me tell you. About eighteen months ago I was on the edge of a great +discovery in colour photography. It was my discovery, whatever you may +have heard. Bhurine was the medium, and not being then so cautious or +suspicious as I have reason to be now, and finding it difficult--really +impossible--to procure this substance casually, I sent in an order to +Lightcraft to procure me a stock. Unfortunately, in a moment of +enthusiasm I had hinted at the anticipated results to a man who was then +my friend--a weakling called Southem. Comparing notes with Lightcraft +they put two and two together and in a trice most of the secret boiled +over. + +“If you have ever been within an ace of a monumental discovery you will +understand the torment of anxiety and self-reproach that possessed me. +For months the result must have trembled in the balance, but even as it +evaded me, so it evaded the others. And at last I was able to spread +conviction that the bhurine process was a failure. I breathed again. + +“You don’t want to hear of the various things that conspired to baffle +me. I proceeded with extreme caution and therefore slowly. About two +weeks ago I had another foretaste of success and immediately on it a +veritable disaster. By some diabolical mischance I contrived to upset my +stock bottle of bhurine. It rolled down, smashed to atoms on a +developing dish filled with another chemical, and the precious lot was +irretrievably lost. To arrest the experiments at that stage for a day +was to lose a month. In one place and one alone could I hope to +replenish the stock temporarily at such short notice and to do it openly +after my last experience filled me with dismay.... Well, you know what +happened, and now, I suppose, it will all come out.” + + * * * * * + +A week after his arrest Philip Loudham and his sister were sitting +together in the drawing-room at Hazlehurst, nervous and expectant. +Loudham had been discharged scarcely six hours before, with such +vindication of his character as the frigid intimation that there was no +evidence against him afforded. On his arrival home he had found a letter +from Max Carrados--a name with which he was now familiar--awaiting him. +There had been other notes and telegrams--messages of sympathy and +congratulation, but the man who had brought about his liberation did not +include these conventionalities. He merely stated that he purposed +calling upon Mr Loudham at nine o’clock that evening and that he hoped +it would be convenient for him and all other members of the household to +be at home. + +“He can scarcely be coming to be thanked,” speculated Loudham, breaking +the silence that had fallen on them as the hour approached. “I should +have called on him myself to-morrow.” + +Mrs Dupreen assented absent-mindedly. Both were dressed in black, and +both at that moment had the same thought: that they were dreaming this. + +“I suppose you won’t go on living here, Irene?” continued the brother, +speaking to make the minutes seem tolerable. + +This at least had the effect of bringing Mrs Dupreen back into the +present with a rush. + +“Of course not,” she replied almost sharply and looking at him direct. +“Why should I, now?” + +“Oh, all right,” he agreed. “I didn’t suppose you would.” Then, as the +front-door bell was heard to ring: “Thank heaven!” + +“Won’t you go to meet him in the hall and bring him in?” suggested Mrs +Dupreen. “He is blind, you know.” + +Carrados was carrying a small leather case which he allowed Loudham to +relieve him of, together with his hat and gloves. The introduction to +Mrs Dupreen was made, the blind man put in touch with a chair, and then +Philip Loudham began to rattle off the acknowledgment of gratitude of +which he had been framing and rejecting openings for the last half-hour. + +“I’m afraid it’s no good attempting to thank you for the extraordinary +service that you’ve rendered me, Mr Carrados,” he began, “and, above +all, I appreciate the fact that, owing to you, it has been possible to +keep Mrs Guestling’s name entirely out of the case. Of course you know +all about that, and my sister knows, so it isn’t worth while beating +about the bush. Well, now that I shall have something like a decent +income of my own, I shall urge Kitty--Mrs Guestling--to apply for the +divorce that she is richly entitled to, and when that is all settled we +shall marry at once and try to forget the experiences on both sides that +have led up to it. I hope,” he added tamely, “that you don’t consider us +really much to blame?” + +Carrados shook his head in mild deprecation. + +“That is an ethical point that has lain outside the scope of my +inquiry,” he replied. “You would hardly imagine that I should disturb +you at such a time merely to claim your thanks. Has it occurred to you +why I should have come?” + +Brother and sister exchanged looks and by their silence gave reply. + +“We have still to find who poisoned Charlie Winpole.” + +Loudham stared at their guest in frank bewilderment. Mrs Dupreen almost +closed her eyes. When she spoke it was in a pained whisper. + +“Is there anything more to be gained by pursuing that idea, Mr +Carrados?” she asked pleadingly. “We have passed through a week of +anguish, coming upon a week of grief and great distress. Surely all has +been done that can be done?” + +“But you would have justice for your nephew if there has been foul +play?” + +Mrs Dupreen made a weary gesture of resignation. It was Loudham who took +up the question. + +“Do you really mean, Mr Carrados, that there is any doubt about the +cause?” + +“Will you give me my case, please? Thank you.” He opened it and produced +a small paper bag. “Now a newspaper, if you will.” He opened the bag and +poured out the contents. “You remember stating at the inquest, Mrs +Dupreen, that the mushrooms you bought looked rather dry? They were dry, +there is no doubt, for they had then been gathered four days. Here are +some more under precisely the same conditions. They looked, in point of +fact, like these?” + +“Yes,” admitted the lady, beginning to regard Carrados with a new and +curious interest. + +“Dr Slark further stated that the only fungus containing the poison +bhurine--the _Amanita_ called the Black Cap, and also by the country +folk the Devil’s Scent Bottle--did not assume its forbidding appearance +until maturity. He was wrong in one sense there, for experiment proves +that if the Black Cap is gathered in its young and deceptive stage and +kept, it assumes precisely the same appearance as it withers as if it +was ripening naturally. You observe.” He opened a second bag and, +shaking out the contents, displayed another little heap by the side of +the first. “Gathered four days ago,” he explained. + +“Why, they are as black as ink,” commented Loudham. “And the, phew! +aroma!” + +“One would hardly have got through without you seeing it, Mrs Dupreen?” + +“I certainly hardly think so,” she admitted. + +“With due allowance for Lackington’s biased opinion I also think that +his claim might be allowed. Finally, it is incredible that whoever +peeled the mushrooms should have passed one of these. Who was the cook +on that occasion, Mrs Dupreen?” + +“My maid Hilda. She does all the cooking.” + +“The one who admitted me?” + +“Yes; she is the only servant I have, Mr Carrados.” + +“I should like to have her in, if you don’t mind.” + +“Certainly, if you wish it. She is”--Mrs Dupreen felt that she must put +in a favourable word before this inexorable man pronounced +judgment--“she is a very good, straightforward girl.” + +“So much the better.” + +“I will----” Mrs Dupreen rose and began to cross the room. + +“Ring for her? Thank you,” and whatever her intention had been the lady +rang the bell. + +“Yes, ma’am?” + +A neat, modest-mannered girl, simple and nervous, with a face as full, +as clear and as honest as an English apple. “A pity,” thought Mrs +Dupreen, “that this confident, suspicious man cannot see her now.” + +“Come in, Hilda. This gentleman wants to ask you something.” + +“Yes, ma’am.” The round, blue eyes went appealingly to Carrados, fell +upon the fungi spread out before her, and then circled the room with an +instinct of escape. + +“You remember the night poor Charlie died, Hilda,” said Carrados in his +suavest tones, “you cooked some mushrooms for his supper, didn’t you?” + +“No, sir,” came the glib reply. + +“‘No,’ Hilda!” exclaimed Mrs Dupreen in wonderment. “You mean ‘yes,’ +surely, child. Of course you cooked them. Don’t you remember?” + +“Yes, ma’am,” dutifully replied Hilda. + +“That is all right,” said the blind man reassuringly. “Nervous witnesses +very often answer at random at first. You have nothing to be afraid of, +my good girl, if you will tell the truth. I suppose you know a mushroom +when you see it?” + +“Yes, sir,” was the rather hesitating reply. + +“There was nothing like this among them?” He held up one of the +poisonous sort. + +“No, sir; indeed there wasn’t, sir. I should have known then.” + +“You would have known _then_? You were not called at the inquest, +Hilda?” + +“No, sir.” + +“If you had been, what would you have told them about these mushrooms +that you cooked?” + +“I--I don’t know, sir.” + +“Come, come, Hilda. What could you have told them--something that we do +not know? The truth, girl, if you want to save yourself?” Then with a +sudden, terrible directness the question cleft her trembling, +guilt-stricken little brain: “Where did you get the other mushrooms from +that you put with those that your mistress brought?” + +The eyes that had been mostly riveted to the floor leapt to Carrados for +a single frightened glance, from Carrados to her mistress, to Philip +Loudham, and to the floor again. In a moment her face changed and she +was in a burst of sobbing. + +“Oho, oho, oho!” she wailed. “I didn’t know; I didn’t know. I meant no +harm; indeed I didn’t, ma’am.” + +“Hilda! Hilda!” exclaimed Mrs Dupreen in bewilderment. “What is it +you’re saying? What have you done?” + +“It was his own fault. Oho, oho, oho!” Every word was punctuated by a +gasp. “He always was a little pig and making himself ill with food. You +know he was, ma’am, although you were so fond of him. I’m sure I’m not +to blame.” + +“But _what_ was it? What _have_ you done?” besought her mistress. + +“It was after you went out on that afternoon. He put on his things and +slipped down into the kitchen without the master knowing. He said what +you were getting for his dinner, ma’am, and that you never got enough of +them. Then he told me not to tell about his being down, because he’d +seen some white things from his bedroom window growing by the hedge at +the bottom of the garden and he was going to get them. He brought in +four or five and said they were mushrooms and asked me to cook them with +the others and not say anything because you’d say too many were not good +for him. And I didn’t know any difference. Indeed I’m telling you the +truth, ma’am.” + +“Oh, Hilda, Hilda!” was torn reproachfully from Mrs Dupreen. “You know +what we’ve gone through. Why didn’t you tell us this before?” + +“I was afraid. I was afraid of what they’d do. And no one ever guessed +until I thought I was safe. Indeed I meant no harm to anyone, but I was +afraid that they’d punish me instead.” + +Carrados had risen and was picking up his things. + +“Yes,” he said, half musing to himself, “I knew it must exist: the one +explanation that accounts for everything and cannot be assailed. We have +reached the bed-rock of truth at last.” + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + V + + The Ghost at Massingham Mansions + + +“Do you believe in ghosts, Max?” inquired Mr Carlyle. + +“Only as ghosts,” replied Carrados with decision. + +“Quite so,” assented the private detective with the air of acquiescence +with which he was wont to cloak his moments of obfuscation. Then he +added cautiously: “And how don’t you believe in them, pray?” + +“As public nuisances--or private ones for that matter,” replied his +friend. “So long as they are content to behave as ghosts I am with them. +When they begin to meddle with a state of existence that is outside +their province--to interfere in business matters and depreciate +property--to rattle chains, bang doors, ring bells, predict winners and +to edit magazines--and to attract attention instead of shunning it, I +cease to believe. My sympathies are entirely with the sensible old +fellow who was awakened in the middle of the night to find a shadowy +form standing by the side of his bed and silently regarding him. For a +few minutes the disturbed man waited patiently, expecting some awful +communication, but the same profound silence was maintained. ‘Well,’ he +remarked at length, ‘if you have nothing to do, I have,’ and turning +over went to sleep again.” + +“I have been asked to take up a ghost,” Carlyle began to explain. + +“Then I don’t believe in it,” declared Carrados. + +“Why not?” + +“Because it is a pushful, notoriety-loving ghost, or it would not have +gone so far. Probably it wants to get into _The Daily Mail_. The other +people, whoever they are, don’t believe in it either, Louis, or they +wouldn’t have called you in. They would have gone to Sir Oliver Lodge +for an explanation, or to the nearest priest for a stoup of holy water.” + +“I admit that I shall direct my researches towards the forces of this +world before I begin to investigate any other,” conceded Louis Carlyle. +“And I don’t doubt,” he added, with his usual bland complacence, “that I +shall hale up some mischievous or aggrieved individual before the ghost +is many days older. Now that you have brought me so far, do you care to +go on round to the place with me, Max, to hear what they have to say +about it?” + +Carrados agreed with his usual good nature. He rarely met his friend +without hearing the details of some new case, for Carlyle’s practice had +increased vastly since the night when chance had led him into the blind +man’s study. They discussed the cases according to their interest, and +there the matter generally ended so far as Max Carrados was concerned, +until he casually heard the result subsequently from Carlyle’s lips or +learned the sequel from the newspaper. But these pages are primarily a +record of the methods of the one man whose name they bear and therefore +for the occasional case that Carrados completed for his friend there +must be assumed the unchronicled scores which the inquiry agent dealt +capably with himself. This reminder is perhaps necessary to dissipate +the impression that Louis Carlyle was a pretentious humbug. He was, as a +matter of fact, in spite of his amiable foibles and the self-assurance +that was, after all, merely an asset of his trade, a shrewd and capable +business man of his world, and behind his office manner nothing +concerned him more than to pocket fees for which he felt that he had +failed to render value. + +Massingham Mansions proved to be a single block of residential flats +overlooking a recreation ground. It was, as they afterwards found, an +adjunct to a larger estate of similar property situated down another +road. A porter, residing in the basement, looked after the interests of +Massingham Mansions; the business office was placed among the other +flats. On that morning it presented the appearance of a well-kept, +prosperous enough place, a little dull, a little unfinished, a little +depressing perhaps; in fact faintly reminiscent of the superfluous +mansions that stand among broad, weedy roads on the outskirts of +overgrown seaside resorts; but it was persistently raining at the time +when Mr Carlyle had his first view of it. + +“It is early to judge,” he remarked, after stopping the car in order to +verify the name on the brass plate, “but, upon my word, Max, I really +think that our ghost might have discovered more appropriate quarters.” + +At the office, to which the porter had directed them, they found a +managing clerk and two coltish youths in charge. Mr Carlyle’s name +produced an appreciable flutter. + +“The governor isn’t here just now, but I have this matter in hand,” said +the clerk with an easy air of responsibility--an effect unfortunately +marred by a sudden irrepressible giggle from the least overawed of the +colts. “Will you kindly step into our private room?” He turned at the +door of the inner office and dropped a freezing eye on the offender. +“Get those letters copied before you go out to lunch, Binns,” he +remarked in a sufficiently loud voice. Then he closed the door quickly, +before Binns could find a suitable retort. + +So far it had been plain sailing, but now, brought face to face with the +necessity of explaining, the clerk began to develop some hesitancy in +beginning. + +“It’s a funny sort of business,” he remarked, skirting the difficulty. + +“Perhaps,” admitted Mr Carlyle; “but that will not embarrass us. Many of +the cases that pass through my hands are what you would call ‘funny +sorts of business.’” + +“I suppose so,” responded the young man, “but not through ours. Well, +this is at No. 11 Massingham. A few nights ago--I suppose it must be +more than a week now--Willett, the estate porter, was taking up some +luggage to No. 75 Northanger for the people there when he noticed a +light in one of the rooms at 11 Massingham. The backs face, though about +twenty or thirty yards away. It struck him as curious, because 11 +Massingham is empty and locked up. Naturally he thought at first that +the porter at Massingham or one of us from the office had gone up for +something. Still it was so unusual--being late at night--that it was his +business to look into it. On his way round--you know where Massingham +Mansions are?--he had to pass here. It was dark, for we’d all been gone +hours, but Willett has duplicate keys and he let himself in. Then he +began to think that something must be wrong, for here, hanging up +against their number on the board, were the only two keys of 11 +Massingham that there are supposed to be. He put the keys in his pocket +and went on to Massingham. Green, the resident porter there, told him +that he hadn’t been into No. 11 for a week. What was more, no one had +passed the outer door, in or out, for a good half-hour. He knew that, +because the door ‘springs’ with a noise when it is opened, no matter how +carefully. So the two of them went up. The door of No. 11 was locked and +inside everything was as it should be. There was no light then, and +after looking well round with the lanterns that they carried they were +satisfied that no one was concealed there.” + +“You say lanterns,” interrupted Mr Carlyle. “I suppose they lit the gas, +or whatever it is there, as well?” + +“It is gas, but they could not light it because it was cut off at the +meter. We always cut it off when a flat becomes vacant.” + +“What sort of a light was it, then, that Willett saw?” + +“It was gas, Mr Carlyle. It is possible to see the bracket in that room +from 75 Northanger. He saw it burning.” + +“Then the meter had been put on again?” + +“It is in a locked cupboard in the basement. Only the office and the +porters have keys. They tried the gas in the room and it was dead out; +they looked at the meter in the basement afterwards and it was dead +off.” + +“Very good,” observed Mr Carlyle, noting the facts in his pocket-book. +“What next?” + +“The next,” continued the clerk, “was something that had really happened +before. When they got down again--Green and Willett--Green was rather +chipping Willett about seeing the light, you know, when he stopped +suddenly. He’d remembered something. The day before the servant at 12 +Massingham had asked him who it was that was using the bathroom at No. +11--she of course knowing that it was empty. He told her that no one +used the bathroom. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘we hear the water running and +splashing almost every night and it’s funny with no one there.’ He had +thought nothing of it at the time, concluding--as he told her--that it +must be the water in the bathroom of one of the underneath flats that +they heard. Of course he told Willett then and they went up again and +examined the bathroom more closely. Water had certainly been run there, +for the sides of the bath were still wet. They tried the taps and not a +drop came. When a flat is empty we cut off the water like the gas.” + +“At the same place--the cupboard in the basement?” inquired Carlyle. + +“No; at the cistern in the roof. The trap is at the top of the stairs +and you need a longish ladder to get there. The next morning Willett +reported what he’d seen and the governor told me to look into it. We +didn’t think much of it so far. That night I happened to be seeing some +friends to the station here--I live not so far off--and I thought I +might as well take a turn round here on my way home. I knew that if a +light was burning I should be able to see the window lit up from the +yard at the back, although the gas itself would be out of sight. And, +sure enough, there was the light blazing out of one of the windows of +No. 11. I won’t say that I didn’t feel a bit home-sick then, but I’d +made up my mind to go up.” + +“Good man,” murmured Mr Carlyle approvingly. + +“Wait a bit,” recommended the clerk, with a shamefaced laugh. “So far I +had only had to make my mind up. It was then close on midnight and not a +soul about. I came here for the keys, and I also had the luck to +remember an old revolver that had been lying about in a drawer of the +office for years. It wasn’t loaded, but it didn’t seem quite so lonely +with it. I put it in my pocket and went on to Massingham, taking another +turn into the yard to see that the light was still on. Then I went up +the stairs as quietly as I could and let myself into No. 11.” + +“You didn’t take Willett or Green with you?” + +The clerk gave Mr Carlyle a knowing look, as of one smart man who will +be appreciated by another. + +“Willett’s a very trustworthy chap,” he replied, “and we have every +confidence in him. Green also, although he has not been with us so long. +But I thought it just as well to do it on my own, you understand, Mr +Carlyle. You didn’t look in at Massingham on your way? Well, if you had +you would have seen that there is a pane of glass above every door, +frosted glass to the hall doors and plain over each of those inside. +It’s to light the halls and passages, you know. Each flat has a small +square hall and a longish passage leading off it. As soon as I opened +the door I could tell that one of the rooms down the passage was lit up, +though I could not see the door of it from there. Then I crept very +quietly through the hall into the passage. A regular stream of light was +shining from above the end door on the left. The room, I knew, was the +smallest in the flat--it’s generally used for a servant’s bedroom or +sometimes for a box-room. It was a bit thick, you’ll admit--right at the +end of a long passage and midnight, and after what the others had said.” + +“Yes, yes,” assented the inquiry agent. “But you went on?” + +“I went on, tiptoeing without a sound. I got to the door, took out my +pistol, put my hand almost on the handle and then----” + +“Well, well,” prompted Mr Carlyle, as the narrator paused provokingly, +with the dramatic instinct of an expert raconteur, “what then?” + +“Then the light went out. While my hand was within an inch of the handle +the light went out, as clean as if I had been watched all along and the +thing timed. It went out all at once, without any warning and without +the slightest sound from the beastly room beyond. And then it was as +black as hell in the passage and something seemed to be going to +happen.” + +“What did you do?” + +“I did a slope,” acknowledged the clerk frankly. “I broke all the +records down that passage, I bet you. You’ll laugh, I dare say, and +think you would have stood, but you don’t know what it was like. I’d +been screwing myself up, wondering what I should see in that lighted +room when I opened the door, and then the light went out like a knife, +and for all I knew the next second the door would open on me in the dark +and Christ only knows what come out.” + +“Probably I should have run also,” conceded Mr Carlyle tactfully. “And +you, Max?” + +“You see, I always feel at home in the dark,” apologised the blind man. +“At all events, you got safely away, Mr----?” + +“My name’s Elliott,” responded the clerk. “Yes, you may bet I did. +Whether the door opened and anybody or anything came out or not I can’t +say. I didn’t look. I certainly did get an idea that I heard the bath +water running and swishing as I snatched at the hall door, but I didn’t +stop to consider that either, and if it was, the noise was lost in the +slam of the door and my clatter as I took about twelve flights of stairs +six steps at a time. Then when I was safely out I did venture to go +round to look up again, and there was that damned light full on again.” + +“Really?” commented Mr Carlyle. “That was very audacious of him.” + +“Him? Oh, well, yes, I suppose so. That’s what the governor insists, but +he hasn’t been up there himself in the dark.” + +“Is that as far as you have got?” + +“It’s as far as we can get. The bally thing goes on just as it likes. +The very next day we tied up the taps of the gas-meter and the water +cistern and sealed the string. Bless you, it didn’t make a ha’peth of +difference. Scarcely a night passes without the light showing, and +there’s no doubt that the water runs. We’ve put copying ink on the door +handles and the taps and got into it ourselves until there isn’t a man +about the place that you couldn’t implicate.” + +“Has anyone watched up there?” + +“Willett and Green together did one night. They shut themselves up in +the room opposite from ten till twelve and nothing happened. I was +watching the window with a pair of opera-glasses from an empty flat +here--85 Northanger. Then they chucked it, and before they could have +been down the steps the light was there--I could see the gas as plain as +I can see this ink-stand. I ran down and met them coming to tell me that +nothing had happened. The three of us sprinted up again and the light +was out and the flat as deserted as a churchyard. What do you make of +that?” + +“It certainly requires looking into,” replied Mr Carlyle diplomatically. + +“Looking into! Well, you’re welcome to look all day and all night too, +Mr Carlyle. It isn’t as though it was an old baronial mansion, you see, +with sliding panels and secret passages. The place has the date over the +front door, 1882--1882 and haunted, by gosh! It was built for what it +is, and there isn’t an inch unaccounted for between the slates and the +foundation.” + +“These two things--the light and the water running--are the only +indications there have been?” asked Mr Carlyle. + +“So far as we ourselves have seen or heard. I ought perhaps to tell you +of something else, however. When this business first started I made a +few casual inquiries here and there among the tenants. Among others I +saw Mr Belting, who occupies No. 9 Massingham--the flat directly beneath +No. 11. It didn’t seem any good making up a cock-and-bull story, so I +put it to him plainly--had he been annoyed by anything unusual going on +at the empty flat above? + +“‘If you mean your confounded ghost up there, I have not been +particularly annoyed,’ he said at once, ‘but Mrs Belting has, and I +should advise you to keep out of her way, at least until she gets +another servant.’ Then he told me that their girl, who slept in the +bedroom underneath the little one at No. 11, had been going on about +noises in the room above--footsteps and tramping and a bump on the +floor--for some time before we heard anything of it. Then one day she +suddenly said that she’d had enough of it and bolted. That was just +before Willett first saw the light.” + +“It is being talked about, then--among the tenants?” + +“You bet!” assented Mr Elliott pungently. “That’s what gets the +governor. He wouldn’t give a continental if no one knew, but you can’t +tell where it will end. The people at Northanger don’t half like it +either. All the children are scared out of their little wits and none of +the slaveys will run errands after dark. It’ll give the estate a bad +name for the next three years if it isn’t stopped.” + +“It shall be stopped,” declared Mr Carlyle impressively. “Of course we +have our methods for dealing with this sort of thing, but in order to +make a clean sweep it is desirable to put our hands on the offender _in +flagranti delicto_. Tell your--er--principal not to have any further +concern in the matter. One of my people will call here for any further +details that he may require during the day. Just leave everything as it +is in the meanwhile. Good-morning, Mr Elliott, good-morning.... A fairly +obvious game, I imagine, Max,” he commented as they got into the car, +“although the details are original and the motive not disclosed as yet. +I wonder how many of them are in it?” + +“Let me know when you find out,” said Carrados, and Mr Carlyle promised. + +Nearly a week passed and the expected revelation failed to make its +appearance. Then, instead, quite a different note arrived: + + + “MY DEAR MAX,--I wonder if you formed any conclusion of that + Massingham Mansions affair from Mr Elliott’s refined narrative of the + circumstances? + + “I begin to suspect that Trigget, whom I put on, is somewhat of an + ass, though a very remarkable circumstance has come to light which + might--if it wasn’t a matter of business--offer an explanation of the + whole business by stamping it as inexplicable. + + “You know how I value your suggestions. If you happen to be in the + neighbourhood--not otherwise, Max, I protest--I should be glad if you + would drop in for a chat. Yours sincerely, + + “LOUIS CARLYLE.” + + +Carrados smiled at the ingenuous transparency of the note. He had +thought several times of the case since the interview with Elliott, +chiefly because he was struck by certain details of the manifestation +that divided it from the ordinary methods of the bogy-raiser, an aspect +that had apparently made no particular impression on his friend. He was +sufficiently interested not to let the day pass without “happening” to +be in the neighbourhood of Bampton Street. + +“Max,” exclaimed Mr Carlyle, raising an accusing forefinger, “you have +come on purpose.” + +“If I have,” replied the visitor, “you can reward me with a cup of that +excellent beverage that you were able to conjure up from somewhere down +in the basement on a former occasion. As a matter of fact, I have.” + +Mr Carlyle transmitted the order and then demanded his friend’s serious +attention. + +“That ghost at Massingham Mansions----” + +“I still don’t believe in that particular ghost, Louis,” commented +Carrados in mild speculation. + +“I never did, of course,” replied Carlyle, “but, upon my word, Max, I +shall have to very soon as a precautionary measure. Trigget has been +able to do nothing and now he has as good as gone on strike.” + +“Downed--now what on earth can an inquiry man down to go on strike, +Louis? Notebooks? So Trigget has got a chill, like our candid friend +Elliott, Eh?” + +“He started all right--said that he didn’t mind spending a night or a +week in a haunted flat, and, to do him justice, I don’t believe he did +at first. Then he came across a very curious piece of forgotten local +history, a very remarkable--er--coincidence in the circumstances, Max.” + +“I was wondering,” said Carrados, “when we should come up against that +story, Louis.” + +“Then you know of it?” exclaimed the inquiry agent in surprise. + +“Not at all. Only I guessed it must exist. Here you have the +manifestation associated with two things which in themselves are neither +usual nor awe-inspiring--the gas and the water. It requires some +association to connect them up, to give them point and force. That is +the story.” + +“Yes,” assented his friend, “that is the story, and, upon my soul, in +the circumstances--well, you shall hear it. It comes partly from the +newspapers of many years ago, but only partly, for the circumstances +were successfully hushed up in a large measure and it required the +stimulated memories of ancient scandalmongers to fill in the details. Oh +yes, it was a scandal, Max, and would have been a great sensation too, I +do not doubt, only they had no proper pictorial press in those days, +poor beggars. It was very soon after Massingham Mansions had been +erected--they were called Enderby House in those days, by the way, for +the name was changed on account of this very business. The household at +No. 11 consisted of a comfortable, middle-aged married couple and one +servant, a quiet and attractive young creature, one is led to +understand. As a matter of fact, I think they were the first tenants of +that flat.” + +“The first occupants give the soul to a new house,” remarked the blind +man gravely. “That is why empty houses have their different characters.” + +“I don’t doubt it for a moment,” assented Mr Carlyle in his incisive +way, “but none of our authorities on this case made any reference to the +fact. They did say, however, that the man held a good and responsible +position--a position for which high personal character and strict +morality were essential. He was also well known and regarded in quiet +but substantial local circles where serious views prevailed. He was, in +short, a man of notorious ‘respectability.’ + +“The first chapter of the tragedy opened with the painful death of the +prepossessing handmaiden--suicide, poor creature. She didn’t appear one +morning and the flat was full of the reek of gas. With great promptitude +the master threw all the windows open and called up the porter. They +burst open the door of the little bedroom at the end of the passage, and +there was the thing as clear as daylight for any coroner’s jury to see. +The door was locked on the inside and the extinguished gas was turned +full on. It was only a tiny room, with no fireplace, and the ventilation +of a closed well-fitting door and window was negligible in the +circumstances. At all events the girl was proved to have been dead for +several hours when they reached her, and the doctor who conducted the +autopsy crowned the convincing fabric of circumstances when he mentioned +as delicately as possible that the girl had a very pressing reason for +dreading an inevitable misfortune that would shortly overtake her. The +jury returned the obvious verdict. + +“There have been a great many undiscovered crimes in the history of +mankind, Max, but it is by no means every ingenious plot that carries. +After the inquest, at which our gentleman doubtless cut a very proper +and impressive figure, the barbed whisper began to insinuate and to grow +in freedom. It is sheerly impossible to judge how these things start, +but we know that when once they have been begun they gather material +like an avalanche. It was remembered by someone at the flat underneath +that late on the fatal night a window in the principal bedroom above had +been heard to open, top and bottom, very quietly. Certain other sounds +of movement in the night did not tally with the tale of sleep-wrapped +innocence. Sceptical busybodies were anxious to demonstrate practically +to those who differed from them on this question that it was quite easy +to extinguish a gas-jet in one room by blowing down the gas-pipe in +another; and in this connection there was evidence that the lady of the +flat had spoken to her friends more than once of her sentimental young +servant’s extravagant habit of reading herself to sleep occasionally +with the light full on. Why was nothing heard at the inquest, they +demanded, of the curious fact that an open novelette lay on the +counterpane when the room was broken into? A hundred trifling +circumstances were adduced--arrangements that the girl had been making +for the future down to the last evening of her life--interpretable hints +that she had dropped to her acquaintances--her views on suicide and the +best means to that end: a favourite topic, it would seem, among her +class--her possession of certain comparatively expensive trinkets on a +salary of a very few shillings a week, and so on. Finally, some rather +more definite and important piece of evidence must have been conveyed to +the authorities, for we know now that one fine day a warrant was issued. +Somehow rumour preceded its execution. The eminently respectable +gentleman with whom it was concerned did not wait to argue out the +merits of the case. He locked himself in the bathroom, and when the +police arrived they found that instead of an arrest they had to arrange +the details for another inquest.” + +“A very convincing episode,” conceded Carrados in response to his +friend’s expectant air. “And now her spirit passes the long winter +evenings turning the gas on and off, and the one amusement of his +consists in doing the same with the bath-water--or the other way, the +other way about, Louis. Truly, one half the world knows not how the +other half lives!” + +“All your cheap humour won’t induce Trigget to spend another night in +that flat, Max,” retorted Mr Carlyle. “Nor, I am afraid, will it help me +through this business in any other way.” + +“Then I’ll give you a hint that may,” said Carrados. “Try your +respectable gentleman’s way of settling difficulties.” + +“What is that?” demanded his friend. + +“Blow down the pipes, Louis.” + +“Blow down the pipes?” repeated Carlyle. + +“At all events try it. I infer that Mr Trigget has not experimented in +that direction.” + +“But what will it do, Max?” + +“Possibly it will demonstrate where the other end goes to.” + +“But the other end goes to the meter.” + +“I suggest not--not without some interference with its progress. I have +already met your Mr Trigget, you know, Louis. An excellent and reliable +man within his limits, but he is at his best posted outside the door of +a hotel waiting to see the co-respondent go in. He hasn’t enough +imagination for this case--not enough to carry him away from what would +be his own obvious method of doing it to what is someone else’s equally +obvious but quite different method. Unless I am doing him an injustice, +he will have spent most of his time trying to catch someone getting into +the flat to turn the gas and water on and off, whereas I conjecture that +no one does go into the flat because it is perfectly simple--ingenious +but simple--to produce these phenomena without. Then when Mr Trigget has +satisfied himself that it is physically impossible for anyone to be +going in and out, and when, on the top of it, he comes across this +romantic tragedy--a tale that might psychologically explain the ghost, +simply because the ghost is moulded on the tragedy--then, of course, Mr +Trigget’s mental process is swept away from its moorings and his feet +begin to get cold.” + +“This is very curious and suggestive,” said Mr Carlyle. “I certainly +assumed----But shall we have Trigget up and question him on the point? I +think he ought to be here now--if he isn’t detained at the Bull.” + +Carrados assented, and in a few minutes Mr Trigget presented himself at +the door of the private office. He was a melancholy-looking middle-aged +little man, with an ineradicable air of being exactly what he was, and +the searcher for deeper or subtler indications of character would only +be rewarded by a latent pessimism grounded on the depressing probability +that he would never be anything else. + +“Come in, Trigget,” called out Mr Carlyle when his employee diffidently +appeared. “Come in. Mr Carrados would like to hear some of the details +of the Massingham Mansions case.” + +“Not the first time I have availed myself of the benefit of your +inquiries, Mr Trigget,” nodded the blind man. “Good-afternoon.” + +“Good-afternoon, sir,” replied Trigget with gloomy deference. “It’s very +handsome of you to put it in that way, Mr Carrados, sir. But this isn’t +another Tarporley-Templeton case, if I may say so, sir. That was as +plain as a pikestaff after all, sir.” + +“When we saw the pikestaff, Mr Trigget; yes, it was,” admitted Carrados, +with a smile. “But this is insoluble? Ah, well. When I was a boy I used +to be extraordinarily fond of ghost stories, I remember, but even while +reading them I always had an uneasy suspicion that when it came to the +necessary detail of explaining the mystery I should be defrauded with +some subterfuge as ‘by an ingenious arrangement of hidden wires the +artful Muggles had contrived,’ etc., or ‘an optical illusion effected by +means of concealed mirrors revealed the _modus operandi_ of the +apparition.’ I thought that I had been swindled. I think so still. I +hope there are no ingenious wires or concealed mirrors here, Mr +Trigget?” + +Mr Trigget looked mildly sagacious but hopelessly puzzled. It was his +misfortune that in him the necessities of his business and the +proclivities of his nature were at variance, so that he ordinarily +presented the curious anomaly of looking equally alert and tired. + +“Wires, sir?” he began, with faint amusement. + +“Not only wires, but anything that might account for what is going on,” +interposed Mr Carlyle. “Mr Carrados means this, Trigget: you have +reported that it is impossible for anyone to be concealed in the flat or +to have secret access to it----” + +“I have tested every inch of space in all the rooms, Mr Carrados, sir,” +protested the hurt Trigget. “I have examined every board and, you may +say, every nail in the floor, the skirting-boards, the window frames and +in fact wherever a board or a nail exists. There are no secret ways in +or out. Then I have taken the most elaborate precautions against the +doors and windows being used for surreptitious ingress and egress. They +have not been used, sir. For the past week I am the only person who has +been in and out of the flat, Mr Carrados, and yet night after night the +gas that is cut off at the meter is lit and turned out again, and the +water that is cut off at the cistern splashes about in the bath up to +the second I let myself in. Then it’s as quiet as the grave and +everything is exactly as I left it. It isn’t human, Mr Carrados, sir, +and flesh and blood can’t stand it--not in the middle of the night, that +is to say.” + +“You see nothing further, Mr Trigget?” + +“I don’t indeed, Mr Carrados. I would suggest doing away with the gas in +that room altogether. As a box-room it wouldn’t need one.” + +“And the bathroom?” + +“That might be turned into a small bedroom and all the water fittings +removed. Then to provide a bathroom----” + +“Yes, yes,” interrupted Mr Carlyle impatiently, “but we are retained to +discover who is causing this annoyance and to detect the means, not to +suggest structural alterations in the flat, Trigget. The fact is that +after having put in a week on this job you have failed to bring us an +inch nearer its solution. Now Mr Carrados has suggested”--Mr Carlyle was +not usually detained among the finer shades of humour, but some +appreciation of the grotesqueness of the advice required him to control +his voice as he put the matter in its baldest form--“Mr Carrados has +suggested that instead of spending the time measuring the chimneys and +listening to the wall-paper, if you had simply blown down the +gas-pipe----” + +Carrados was inclined to laugh, although he thought it rather too bad of +Louis. + +“Not quite in those terms, Mr Trigget,” he interposed. + +“Blow down the gas-pipe, sir?” repeated the amazed man. “What for?” + +“To ascertain where the other end comes out,” replied Carlyle. + +“But don’t you see, sir, that that is a detail until you ascertain how +it is being done? The pipe may be tapped between the bath and the +cistern. Naturally, I considered that. As a matter of fact, the +water-pipe isn’t tapped. It goes straight up from the bath to the +cistern in the attic above, a distance of only a few feet, and I have +examined it. The gas-pipe, it is true, passes through a number of flats, +and without pulling up all the floors it isn’t practicable to trace it. +But how does that help us, Mr Carrados? The gas-tap has to be turned on +and off; you can’t do that with these hidden wires. It has to be lit. +I’ve never heard of lighting gas by optical illusions, sir. Somebody +must get in and out of the flat or else it isn’t human. I’ve spent a +week, a very trying week, sir, in endeavouring to ascertain how it could +be done. I haven’t shirked cold and wet and solitude, sir, in the +discharge of my duty. I’ve freely placed my poor gifts of observation +and intelligence, such as they are, at the service----” + +“Not ‘freely,’ Trigget,” interposed his employer with decision. + +“I am speaking under a deep sense of injury, Mr Carlyle,” retorted Mr +Trigget, who, having had time to think it over, had now come to the +conclusion that he was not appreciated. “I am alluding to a moral +attitude such as we all possess. I am very grieved by what has been +suggested. I didn’t expect it of you, Mr Carlyle, sir; indeed I did not. +For a week I have done everything that it has been possible to do, +everything that a long experience could suggest, and now, as I +understand it, sir, you complain that I didn’t blow down the gas-pipe, +sir. It’s hard, sir; it’s very hard.” + +“Oh, well, for heaven’s sake don’t cry about it, Trigget,” exclaimed Mr +Carlyle. “You’re always sobbing about the place over something or other. +We know you did your best--God help you!” he added aside. + +“I did, Mr Carlyle; indeed I did, sir. And I thank you for that +appreciative tribute to my services. I value it highly, very highly +indeed, sir.” A tremulous note in the rather impassioned delivery made +it increasingly plain that Mr Trigget’s regimen had not been confined +entirely to solid food that day. His wrongs were forgotten and he +approached Mr Carrados with an engaging air of secrecy. + +“What is this tip about blowing down the gas-pipe, sir?” he whispered +confidentially. “The old dog’s always willing to learn something new.” + +“Max,” said Mr Carlyle curtly, “is there anything more that we need +detain Trigget for?” + +“Just this,” replied Carrados after a moment’s thought. “The +gas-bracket--it has a mantle attachment on?” + +“Oh no, Mr Carrados,” confided the old dog with the affectation of +imparting rather valuable information, “not a mantle on. Oh, certainly +no mantle. Indeed--indeed, not a mantle at all.” + +Mr Carlyle looked at his friend curiously. It was half evident that +something might have miscarried. Furthermore, it was obvious that the +warmth of the room and the stress of emotion were beginning to have a +disastrous effect on the level of Mr Trigget’s ideas and speech. + +“A globe?” suggested Carrados. + +“A globe? No, sir, not even a globe, in the strict sense of the word. No +globe, that is to say, Mr Carrados. In fact nothing like a globe.” + +“What is there, then?” demanded the blind man without any break in his +unruffled patience. “There may be another way--but surely--surely there +must be some attachment?” + +“No,” said Mr Trigget with precision, “no attachment at all; nothing at +all; nothing whatsoever. Just the ordinary or common or penny plain +gas-jet, and above it the whayoumaycallit thingamabob.” + +“The shade--gas consumer--of course!” exclaimed Carrados. “That is it.” + +“The tin thingamabob,” insisted Mr Trigget with slow dignity. “Call it +what you will. Its purpose is self-evident. It acts as a dispirator--a +distributor, that is to say----” + +“Louis,” struck in Carrados joyously, “are you good for settling it +to-night?” + +“Certainly, my dear fellow, if you can really give the time.” + +“Good; it’s years since I last tackled a ghost. What about----?” His +look indicated the other member of the council. + +“Would he be of any assistance?” + +“Perhaps--then.” + +“What time?” + +“Say eleven-thirty.” + +“Trigget,” rapped out his employer sharply, “meet us at the corner of +Middlewood and Enderby Roads at half-past eleven sharp to-night. If you +can’t manage it I shall not require your services again.” + +“Certainly, sir; I shall not fail to be punctual,” replied Trigget +without a tremor. The appearance of an almost incredible sobriety had +possessed him in the face of warning, and both in speech and manner he +was again exactly the man as he had entered the room. “I regard it as a +great honour, Mr Carrados, to be associated with you in this business, +sir.” + +“In the meanwhile,” remarked Carrados, “if you find the time hang heavy +on your hands you might look up the subject of ‘platinum black.’ It may +be the new tip you want.” + +“Certainly, sir. But do you mind giving me a hint as to what ‘platinum +black’ is?” + +“It is a chemical that has the remarkable property of igniting hydrogen +or coal gas by mere contact,” replied Carrados. “Think how useful that +may be if you haven’t got a match!” + +To mark the happy occasion Mr Carlyle had insisted on taking his friend +off to witness a popular musical comedy. Carrados had a few preparations +to make, a few accessories to procure for the night’s work, but the +whole business had come within the compass of an hour and the theatre +spanned the interval between dinner at the Palm Tree and the time when +they left the car at the appointed meeting-place. Mr Trigget was already +there, in an irreproachable state of normal dejection. Parkinson +accompanied the party, bringing with him the baggage of the expedition. + +“Anything going on, Trigget?” inquired Mr Carlyle. + +“I’ve made a turn round the place, sir, and the light was on,” was the +reply. “I didn’t go up for fear of disturbing the conditions before you +saw them. That was about ten minutes ago. Are you going into the yard to +look again? I have all the keys, of course.” + +“Do we, Max?” queried Mr Carlyle. + +“Mr Trigget might. We need not all go. He can catch us up again.” + +He caught them up again before they had reached the outer door. + +“It’s still on, sir,” he reported. + +“Do we use any special caution, Max?” asked Carlyle. + +“Oh no. Just as though we were friends of the ghost, calling in the +ordinary way.” + +Trigget, who retained the keys, preceded the party up the stairs till +the top was reached. He stood a moment at the door of No. 11 examining, +by the light of the electric lamp he carried, his private marks there +and pointing out to the others in a whisper that they had not been +tampered with. All at once a most dismal wail, lingering, piercing, and +ending in something like a sob that died away because the life that gave +it utterance had died with it, drawled forebodingly through the echoing +emptiness of the deserted flat. Trigget had just snapped off his light +and in the darkness a startled exclamation sprang from Mr Carlyle’s +lips. + +“It’s all right, sir,” said the little man, with a private satisfaction +that he had the diplomacy to conceal. “Bit creepy, isn’t it? especially +when you hear it by yourself up here for the first time. It’s only the +end of the bath-water running out.” + +He had opened the door and was conducting them to the room at the end of +the passage. A faint aurora had been visible from that direction when +they first entered the hall, but it was cut off before they could +identify its source. + +“That’s what happens,” muttered Trigget. + +He threw open the bedroom door without waiting to examine his marks +there and they crowded into the tiny chamber. Under the beams of the +lamps they carried it was brilliantly though erratically illuminated. +All turned towards the central object of their quest, a tarnished +gas-bracket of the plainest description. A few inches above it hung the +metal disc that Trigget had alluded to, for the ceiling was low and at +that point it was brought even nearer to the gas by corresponding with +the slant of the roof outside. + +With the prescience so habitual with him that it had ceased to cause +remark among his associates Carrados walked straight to the gas-bracket +and touched the burner. + +“Still warm,” he remarked. “And so are we getting now. A thoroughly +material ghost, you perceive, Louis.” + +“But still turned off, don’t you see, Mr Carrados, sir,” put in Trigget +eagerly. “And yet no one’s passed out.” + +“Still turned off--and still turned on,” commented the blind man. + +“What do you mean, Max?” + +“The small screwdriver, Parkinson,” requested Carrados. + +“Well, upon my word!” dropped Mr Carlyle expressively. For in no longer +time than it takes to record the fact Max Carrados had removed a screw +and then knocked out the tap. He held it up towards them and they all at +once saw that so much of the metal had been filed away that the gas +passed through no matter how the tap stood. “How on earth did you know +of that?” + +“Because it wasn’t practicable to do the thing in any other way. Now +unhook the shade, Parkinson--carefully.” + +The warning was not altogether unnecessary, for the man had to stand on +tiptoes before he could comply. Carrados received the dingy metal cone +and lightly touched its inner surface. + +“Ah, here, at the apex, to be sure,” he remarked. “The gas is bound to +get there. And there, Louis, you have an ever-lit and yet a truly +‘safety’ match--so far as gas is concerned. You can buy the thing for a +shilling, I believe.” + +Mr Carlyle was examining the tiny apparatus with interest. So small that +it might have passed for the mummy of a midget hanging from a cobweb, it +appeared to consist of an insignificant black pellet and an inch of the +finest wire. + +“Um, I’ve never heard of it. And this will really light the gas?” + +“As often as you like. That is the whole bag of tricks.” + +Mr Carlyle turned a censorious eye upon his lieutenant, but Trigget was +equal to the occasion and met it without embarrassment. + +“I hadn’t heard of it either, sir,” he remarked conversationally. +“Gracious, what won’t they be getting out next, Mr Carlyle!” + +“Now for the mystery of the water.” Carrados was finding his way to the +bathroom and they followed him down the passage and across the hall. “In +its way I think that this is really more ingenious than the gas, for, as +Mr Trigget has proved for us, the water does not come from the cistern. +The taps, you perceive, are absolutely dry.” + +“It is forced up?” suggested Mr Carlyle, nodding towards the outlet. + +“That is the obvious alternative. We will test it presently.” The blind +man was down on his hands and knees following the lines of the different +pipes. “Two degrees more cold are not conclusive, because in any case +the water has gone out that way. Mr Trigget, you know the ropes, will +you be so obliging as to go up to the cistern and turn the water on.” + +“I shall need a ladder, sir.” + +“Parkinson.” + +“We have a folding ladder out here,” said Parkinson, touching Mr +Trigget’s arm. + +“One moment,” interposed Carrados, rising from his investigation among +the pipes; “this requires some care. I want you to do it without making +a sound or showing a light, if that is possible. Parkinson will help +you. Wait until you hear us raising a diversion at the other end of the +flat. Come, Louis.” + +The diversion took the form of tapping the wall and skirting-board in +the other haunted room. When Trigget presented himself to report that +the water was now on Carrados put him to continue the singular exercise +with Mr Carlyle while he himself slipped back to the bathroom. + +“The pump, Parkinson,” he commanded in a brisk whisper to his man, who +was waiting in the hall. + +The appliance was not unlike a powerful tyre pump with some +modifications. One tube from it was quickly fitted to the outlet pipe of +the bath, another trailed a loose end into the bath itself, ready to +take up the water. There were a few other details, the work of moments. +Then Carrados turned on the tap, silencing the inflow by the attachment +of a short length of rubber tube. When the water had risen a few inches +he slipped off to the other room, told his rather mystified confederates +there that he wanted a little more noise and bustle put into their +performance, and was back again in the bathroom. + +“Now, Parkinson,” he directed, and turned off the tap. There was about a +foot of water in the bath. + +Parkinson stood on the broad base of the pump and tried to drive down +the handle. It scarcely moved. + +“Harder,” urged Carrados, interpreting every detail of sound with +perfect accuracy. + +Parkinson set his teeth and lunged again. Again he seemed to come up +against a solid wall of resistance. + +“Keep trying; something must give,” said his master encouragingly. +“Here, let me----” He threw his weight into the balance and for a moment +they hung like a group poised before action. Then, somewhere, something +did give and the sheathing plunger “drew.” + +“Now like blazes till the bath is empty. Then you can tell the others to +stop hammering.” Parkinson, looking round to acquiesce, found himself +alone, for with silent step and quickened senses Carrados was already +passing down the dark flights of the broad stone stairway. + +It was perhaps three minutes later when an excited gentleman in the +state of disrobement that is tacitly regarded as falling upon the +_punctum cæcum_ in times of fire, flood and nocturnal emergency shot out +of the door of No. 7 and bounding up the intervening flights of steps +pounded with the knocker on the door of No. 9. As someone did not appear +with the instantaneity of a jack-in-the-box, he proceeded to repeat the +summons, interspersing it with an occasional “I say!” shouted through +the letter-box. + +The light above the door made it unconvincing to affect that no one was +at home. The gentleman at the door trumpeted the fact through his +channel of communication and demanded instant attention. So immersed was +he with his own grievance, in fact, that he failed to notice the +approach of someone on the other side, and the sudden opening of the +door, when it did take place, surprised him on his knees at his +neighbour’s doorstep, a large and consequential-looking personage as +revealed in the light from the hall, wearing the silk hat that he had +instinctively snatched up, but with his braces hanging down. + +“Mr Tupworthy of No. 7, isn’t it?” quickly interposed the new man before +his visitor could speak. “But why this--homage? Permit me to raise you, +sir.” + +“Confound it all,” snorted Mr Tupworthy indignantly, “you’re flooding my +flat. The water’s coming through my bathroom ceiling in bucketfuls. The +plaster’ll fall next. Can’t you stop it? Has a pipe burst or something?” + +“Something, I imagine,” replied No. 9 with serene detachment. “At all +events it appears to be over now.” + +“So I should hope,” was the irate retort. “It’s bad enough as it is. I +shall go round to the office and complain. I’ll tell you what it is, Mr +Belting: these mansions are becoming a pandemonium, sir, a veritable +pandemonium.” + +“Capital idea; we’ll go together and complain: two will be more +effective,” suggested Mr Belting. “But not to-night, Mr Tupworthy. We +should not find anyone there. The office will be closed. Say +to-morrow----” + +“I had no intention of anything so preposterous as going there to-night. +I am in no condition to go. If I don’t get my feet into hot water at +once I shall be laid up with a severe cold. Doubtless you haven’t +noticed it, but I am wet through to the skin, saturated, sir.” + +Mr Belting shook his head sagely. + +“Always a mistake to try to stop water coming through the ceiling,” he +remarked. “It will come, you know. Finds its own level and all that.” + +“I did not try to stop it--at least not voluntarily. A temporary +emergency necessitated a slight rearrangement of our accommodation. I--I +tell you this in confidence--I was sleeping in the bathroom.” + +At the revelation of so notable a catastrophe Mr Belting actually seemed +to stagger. Possibly his eyes filled with tears; certainly he had to +turn and wipe away his emotion before he could proceed. + +“Not--not right under it?” he whispered. + +“I imagine so,” replied Mr Tupworthy. “I do not conceive that I could +have been placed more centrally. I received the full cataract in the +region of the ear. Well, if I may rely on you that it has stopped, I +will terminate our interview for the present.” + +“Good-night,” responded the still tremulous Belting. “Good-night--or +good-morning, to be exact.” He waited with the door open to light the +first flight of stairs for Mr Tupworthy’s descent. Before the door was +closed another figure stepped down quietly from the obscurity of the +steps leading upwards. + +“Mr Belting, I believe?” said the stranger. “My name is Carrados. I have +been looking over the flat above. Can you spare me a few minutes?” + +“What, Mr Max Carrados?” + +“The same,” smiled the owner of the name. + +“Come in, Mr Carrados,” exclaimed Belting, not only without +embarrassment, but with positive affection in his voice. “Come in by all +means. I’ve heard of you more than once. Delighted to meet you. This +way. I know--I know.” He put a hand on his guest’s arm and insisted on +steering his course until he deposited him in an easy-chair before a +fire. “This looks like being a great night. What will you have?” + +Carrados put the suggestion aside and raised a corner of the situation. + +“I’m afraid that I don’t come altogether as a friend,” he hinted. + +“It’s no good,” replied his host. “I can’t regard you in any other light +after this. You heard Tupworthy? But you haven’t seen the man, Mr +Carrados. I know--I’ve heard--but no wealth of the imagination can ever +really quite reconstruct Tupworthy, the shoddy magnifico, in his immense +porcine complacency, his monumental self-importance. And sleeping right +underneath! Gods, but we have lived to-night! Why--why ever did you +stop?” + +“You associate me with this business?” + +“Associate you! My dear Mr Carrados, I give you the full glorious credit +for the one entirely successful piece of low comedy humour in real life +that I have ever encountered. Indeed, in a legal and pecuniary sense, I +hold you absolutely responsible.” + +“Oh!” exclaimed Carrados, beginning to laugh quietly. Then he continued: +“I think that I shall come through that all right. I shall refer you to +Mr Carlyle, the private inquiry agent, and he will doubtless pass you on +to your landlord, for whom he is acting, and I imagine that he in turn +will throw all the responsibility on the ingenious gentleman who has put +them to so much trouble. Can you guess the result of my investigation in +the flat above?” + +“Guess, Mr Carrados? I don’t need to guess: I _know_. You don’t suppose +I thought for a moment that such transparent devices as two intercepted +pipes and an automatic gas-lighter would impose on a man of +intelligence? They were only contrived to mystify the credulous +imagination of clerks and porters.” + +“You admit it, then?” + +“Admit! Good gracious, of course I admit it, Mr Carrados. What’s the use +of denying it?” + +“Precisely. I am glad you see that. And yet you seem far from being a +mere practical joker. Does your confidence extend to the length of +letting me into your object?” + +“Between ourselves,” replied Mr Belting, “I haven’t the least objection. +But I wish that you would have--say a cup of coffee. Mrs Belting is +still up, I believe. She would be charmed to have the opportunity----No? +Well, just as you like. Now, my object? You must understand, Mr +Carrados, that I am a man of sufficient leisure and adequate means for +the small position we maintain. But I am not unoccupied--not idle. On +the contrary, I am always busy. I don’t approve of any man passing his +time aimlessly. I have a number of interests in life--hobbies, if you +like. You should appreciate that, as you are a private criminologist. I +am--among other things which don’t concern us now--a private +retributionist. On every side people are becoming far too careless and +negligent. An era of irresponsibility has set in. Nobody troubles to +keep his word, to carry out literally his undertakings. In my small way +I try to set that right by showing them the logical development of their +ways. I am, in fact, the sworn enemy of anything approaching sloppiness. +You smile at that?” + +“It is a point of view,” replied Carrados. “I was wondering how the +phrase at this moment would convey itself, say, to Mr Tupworthy’s ear.” + +Mr Belting doubled up. + +“But don’t remind me of Tupworthy or I can’t get on,” he said. “In my +method I follow the system of Herbert Spencer towards children. Of +course you are familiar with his treatise on ‘Education’? If a rough boy +persists, after warnings, in tearing or soiling all his clothes, don’t +scold him for what, after all, is only a natural and healthy instinct +overdone. But equally, of course, don’t punish yourself by buying him +other clothes. When the time comes for the children to be taken to an +entertainment little Tommy cannot go with them. It would not be seemly, +and he is too ashamed, to go in rags. He begins to see the force of +practical logic. Very well. If a tradesman promises--promises +explicitly--delivery of his goods by a certain time and he fails, he +finds that he is then unable to leave them. I pay on delivery, by the +way. If a man undertakes to make me an article like another--I am +painstaking, Mr Carrados: I point out at the time how exactly like I +want it--and it is (as it generally is) on completion something quite +different, I decline to be easy-going and to be put off with it. I take +the simplest and most obvious instances; I could multiply indefinitely. +It is, of course, frequently inconvenient to me, but it establishes a +standard.” + +“I see that you are a dangerous man, Mr Belting,” remarked Carrados. “If +most men were like you our national character would be undermined. +People would have to behave properly.” + +“If most men were like me we should constitute an intolerable nuisance,” +replied Belting seriously. “A necessary reaction towards sloppiness +would set in and find me at its head. I am always with minorities.” + +“And the case in point?” + +“The present trouble centres round the kitchen sink. It is cracked and +leaks. A trivial cause for so elaborate an outcome, you may say, but you +will doubtless remember that two men quarrelling once at a spring as to +who should use it first involved half Europe in a war, and the whole +tragedy of _Lear_ sprang from a silly business round a word. I hadn’t +noticed the sink when we took this flat, but the landlord had solemnly +sworn to do everything that was necessary. Is a new sink necessary to +replace a cracked one? Obviously. Well, you know what landlords are: +possibly you are one yourself. They promise you heaven until you have +signed the agreement and then they tell you to go to hell. Suggested +that we’d probably broken the sink ourselves and would certainly be +looked to to replace it. An excellent servant caught a cold standing in +the drip and left. Was I to be driven into paying for a new sink myself? +Very well, I thought, if the reasonable complaint of one tenant is +nothing to you, see how you like the unreasonable complaints of fifty. +The method served a useful purpose too. When Mrs Belting heard that old +tale about the tragedy at No. 11 she was terribly upset; vowed that she +couldn’t stay alone in here at night on any consideration. + +“‘My dear,’ I said, ‘don’t worry yourself about ghosts. I’ll make as +good a one as ever lived, and then when you see how it takes other +people in, just remember next time you hear of another that someone’s +pulling the string.’ And I really don’t think that she’ll ever be afraid +of ghosts again.” + +“Thank you,” said Carrados, rising. “Altogether I have spent a very +entertaining evening, Mr Belting. I hope your retaliatory method won’t +get you into serious trouble this time.” + +“Why should it?” demanded Belting quickly. + +“Oh, well, tenants are complaining, the property is being depreciated. +The landlord may think that he has legal redress against you.” + +“But surely I am at liberty to light the gas or use the bath in my own +flat when and how I like?” + +A curious look had come into Mr Belting’s smiling face; a curious note +must have sounded in his voice. Carrados was warned and, being warned, +guessed. + +“You are a wonderful man,” he said with upraised hand. “I capitulate. +Tell me how it is, won’t you?” + +“I knew the man at 11. His tenancy isn’t really up till March, but he +got an appointment in the north and had to go. His two unexpired months +weren’t worth troubling about, so I got him to sublet the flat to +me--all quite regularly--for a nominal consideration, and not to mention +it.” + +“But he gave up the keys?” + +“No. He left them in the door and the porter took them away. Very +unwarrantable of him; surely I can keep my keys where I like? However, +as I had another.... Really, Mr Carrados, you hardly imagine that unless +I had an absolute right to be there I should penetrate into a flat, +tamper with the gas and water, knock the place about, tramp up and +down----” + +“I go,” said Carrados, “to get our people out in haste. Good-night.” + +“Good-night, Mr Carrados. It’s been a great privilege to meet you. Sorry +I can’t persuade you....” + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + VI + + The Missing Actress Sensation + + +First nights are not what they were, even within the memory of playgoers +who would be startled to hear anyone else refer to them as “elderly.” +But there are yet occasions of exception, and the production of _Call a +Spade----_ at the Argosy Theatre was marked by at least one feature of +note. The play itself was “sound,” though not epoch-making. The +performance of the leading lady was satisfactory and exactly what was to +be expected from her. The leading gentleman was equally effective in a +part which--as eight out of twelve dramatic critics happily phrased it +on the morrow--“fitted him like a glove”; and on the same preponderance +of opinion the character actor “contrived to extract every ounce of +humour from the material at his disposal.” In other words, _Call a +Spade----_ might so far be relied upon to run an attenuating course for +about fifty nights and then to be discreetly dropped, “pending the +continuance of its triumphal progress at another West End house--should +a suitable habitation become available.” + +But a very different note came into the reviews when the writers passed +to the achievement of another member of the company--a young actress +described on the programme as Miss Una Roscastle. Miss Roscastle was +unknown to London critics and London audiences. She had come from Dublin +with no very great dramatic reputation, but it is to be presumed that +the quite secondary part which she had been given on her first +metropolitan appearance was peculiarly suited to her talent. No one was +more surprised than the author at the remarkable characterisation that +“Mary Ryan” assumed in Miss Roscastle’s hands. He was the more surprised +because he had failed to notice anything of the kind at rehearsals. +Dimly he suspected that the young lady had got more out of the part than +he had ever put into it, and while outwardly loud in his expression of +delight, he was secretly uncertain whether to be pleased or annoyed. The +leading lady also went out of her way to congratulate the young neophyte +effusively on her triumph--and then slapped her unfortunate dresser on +very insufficient provocation; but the lessee manager spoke of his +latest acquisition with a curious air of restraint. At the end of the +second act Miss Roscastle took four calls. After that she was only +required for the first few minutes of the last act, and many among the +audience noted with surprise that she did not appear with the company at +the fall of the curtain--she had, in fact, already left the house. All +the same the success of the piece constituted a personal triumph for +herself. Thenceforth, instead of, “Oh yes, you might do worse than book +seats at the Argosy,” the people who had been, said, “Now don’t forget; +you positively _must_ see Miss Roscastle in _Call a Spade----_,” and as +the Press had said very much the same, the difference to the box-office +was something, but to the actress it was everything. Miss Roscastle, +indeed, had achieved that rare distinction of “waking to find herself +famous.” Nothing could have seemed more assured and roseate than her +professional future. + +About a week later Max Carrados was interrupted one afternoon in the +middle of composing an article on Sicilian numismatics by a telephone +call from Mr Carlyle. The blind man smiled as he returned his friend’s +greeting, for Louis Carlyle’s voice was wonderfully suggestive in its +phases of the varying aspects of the speaker himself, and at that moment +it conveyed a portrait of Mr Carlyle in his very best early-morning +business manner--spruce and debonair, a little obtuse to things beyond +his experience and impervious to criticism, but self-confident, +trenchant and within his limits capable. In its crisp yet benign +complacency Carrados could almost have sworn to resplendent patent +boots, the current shade in suède gloves and a carefully selected +picotee. + +“If you are doing nothing better to-night, Max,” continued the inquiry +agent, “would you join me at the Argosy Theatre? I have a box, and we +might go on to the Savoy afterwards. Now don’t say you are engaged, +there’s a good fellow,” he urged. “You haven’t given me the chance of +playing host for a month or more.” + +“The fact is,” confessed Carrados, “I was there for the first night only +a week ago.” + +“How unfortunate,” exclaimed the other. “But don’t you think that you +could put up with it again?” + +“I am sure I can,” agreed Carrados. “Yes, I will join you there with +pleasure.” + +“Delightful,” crowed Mr Carlyle. “Let us say----” The essential details +were settled in a trice, but the “call” had not yet expired and the +sociable gentleman still held the wire. “Were you interested in Miss +Roscastle, Max?” + +“Decidedly.” + +“That is fortunate. My choice of a theatre is not unconnected with a +case I have on hand. I may be able to tell you something about the +lady.” + +“Possibly we shall not be alone?” suggested Carrados. + +“Well, no; not absolutely,” admitted Carlyle. “Charming young fellow, +though. I’m sure you’ll like him, Max. Trevor Enniscorthy, a younger son +of old Lord Sleys.” + +“Conventional rotter, between ourselves?” inquired Max. + +“Not a bit of it,” declared Mr Carlyle loyally. “A young fellow of five +and twenty is none the worse for being enamoured of a fascinating +creature who happens to be on the stage. He is----Oh, very well. +Good-bye, Max. Eight-fifteen, remember.” + +They were all punctual. In fact, “If Mr Enniscorthy could have got me +along we should have been here before the doors opened,” declared Mr +Carlyle when the blind man joined them. “Now why are there no programmes +about here, I wonder?” + +“I hardly fancy they anticipate their box-holders arriving twenty +minutes before the curtain rises,” suggested Carrados. + +“There are some,” exclaimed Mr Enniscorthy, dashing out as an attendant +crossed the circle. He was back in a moment, and standing in the +obscurity of the box eagerly tore open the programme. “Still in,” he +muttered, coming forward and throwing the paper down for the others to +refer to. “Oh, excuse my impatience,” he apologised, colouring. “I am +rather----” He left them to supply the rest. + +“Mr Enniscorthy has given me permission to explain his position, Max,” +began Mr Carlyle, but the young man abruptly cut short the proposition +stated in this vein of deference. + +“I’d rather put it that if Mr Carrados would help me with his advice I +should be most awfully grateful,” he said in a very clear, rather highly +pitched voice. “I suppose it’s inevitable to feel no end of an ass over +this sort of thing, but I’m desperately in earnest and I _must_ go +through with it.” + +“Admirable!” beamed Mr Carlyle’s inextinguishable eye, and he murmured: +“Very natural, I am sure,” in the voice of a man who has just been told +to go up higher. + +“Perhaps you know that there is a Miss Roscastle put down as appearing +in this piece?” went on Enniscorthy. “Well, I knew Miss Roscastle rather +well in Ireland. I came to London because----I followed her here.” + +“Engaged?” dropped quietly from Carrados’s lips. + +“I cannot say that we were actually engaged,” was the admission, “but +it--well, you know how these things stand. At all events she knew what I +felt towards her and she did not discourage my hopes.” + +“Did your people know of this, Mr Enniscorthy?” + +“I had not spoken to my father or to my stepmother, but they might +easily have heard something of it,” replied the young man. “Miss +Roscastle, although she did not go about much, was received by the very +best people in Dublin. Of course for many things I did not like her +being on the stage; in fact I detested it, but she had taken the step +before I knew her, and how could I object? Then she got the offer of +this London engagement. She was ambitious to get on in her profession, +and took it. In a very short time I found it impossible to exist there +without seeing her, so I made an excuse to get away and followed.” + +“Let me see,” put in Mr Carlyle ingenuously; “I forget the exact dates.” + +“Miss Roscastle came on Monday, October the 4th,” said Enniscorthy. “The +piece opened on the following Thursday week--the 14th. I left Kingstown +by the early boat yesterday. At this end we were nearly an hour late, +and after going to my hotel, changing and dining, I had just time to +come on here and bag the last stall. I thought that I would send a note +round after the first act and ask Una to give me a few minutes +afterwards. But it never came to that. Instead I got a very large +surprise. ‘Mary Ryan’ came on, and I looked--and looked again. I didn’t +need glasses, but I got a pair out of the automatic box in front of me +and had another level stare. Well, it wasn’t Miss Roscastle. This girl +was like her. I suppose to most people they would be wonderfully alike, +and her voice--although it wasn’t really Irish--yes, her voice was +similar. But to me there were miles of difference. I saw at once that +she was an understudy, although ‘Miss Una Roscastle’ was still down in +the programme, and I began to quake at the thought of something having +happened to her. + +“I slipped out into the corridor--I had an end seat--and got hold of a +programme girl. + +“‘Do you know why Miss Roscastle is out of the cast to-night?’ I asked +her. ‘Is she indisposed?’ + +“She took the programme out of my hand and pointed to a name in it. + +“‘She’s in all right,’ she replied--stupidly, I thought. ‘There’s her +name.’ + +“‘Yes, she is on the programme,’ I replied, ‘but not on the stage. Look +through the glass there. That is not Miss Roscastle.’ + +“She glanced through the glazed door and then turned away as though she +suspected me of chaffing her. + +“‘It’s the only Miss Roscastle I’ve ever seen here,’ she said as she +went. + +“I wandered about and interrogated one or two other attendants. They all +gave me the same answer. I began to get frightened. + +“‘They must be misled by the resemblance,’ I assured myself. ‘It really +is wonderful.’ I went back to my seat and then remembered that I had got +no further with my original inquiry, which was to find out whether Una +was ill or not. I couldn’t remain. I kept my eyes fixed on ‘Mary Ryan’ +every time she was on the stage, and every time I became more and more +convinced. Finally I got up again and going round sent in my card to the +manager.” + +“Stokesey?” asked Carrados. + +“Yes. I didn’t know who was technically the right man, but he, at any +rate, had engaged Miss Roscastle. He saw me at once. + +“‘I have come across from Dublin to see Miss Roscastle,’ I told him, +‘and I am very disappointed to find her out of the cast. Can you tell me +why she is away?’ + +“‘Surely you are mistaken,’ he replied, opening a programme that lay +before him. ‘Do you know Miss Roscastle by sight?’ + +“‘Very well indeed,’ I retorted. ‘Better than your staff do. The “Mary +Ryan” to-night is not Miss Roscastle.’ + +“‘I will inquire,’ he said, walking to the door. ‘Please wait a minute.’ + +“He was rigidly courteous, but instinct was telling me all the time that +it was sheer bluff. He had nothing to inquire. In a moment he was back +again. + +“‘I am informed that the programme is correct,’ he said with the same +smooth insincerity, standing in the middle of the room for me to leave. +‘Miss Roscastle is on the stage at this moment. The make-up must have +deceived you, Mr Enniscorthy.’ + +“I had nothing to reply, because I did not even know what to think. I +simply proceeded to walk out. + +“‘One moment.’ I had reached the door when Mr Stokesey spoke. ‘You are a +friend of Miss Roscastle, I suppose?’ + +“‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘I think I may claim that.’ + +“‘Then I would merely suggest to you that to start a rumour crediting +her with being out of the piece is a service she would fail to +appreciate. Good-evening.’ + +“I left the theatre because I despaired of getting any real information +after that, and it occurred to me that I could do better elsewhere. +Although Una and I did not correspond, I had begged her, before she +left, to let me know that she arrived safely, and she had sent me just +half-a-dozen lines. I now took a taxi and drove off to the address she +had given--a sort of private hotel or large boarding-house near Holborn. + +“‘Can you tell me if Miss Roscastle is in?’ I asked at the office. + +“‘Roscastle?’ said the fellow there. ‘Oh, the young lady from the +theatre. Why, she left us more than a week ago--nearer two, I should +say.’ + +“This was another facer. + +“‘Can you give me the address she went to?’ I asked. + +“‘Couldn’t; against our rule,’ he replied. ‘Any letters for her were to +be sent to the theatre.’ + +“I didn’t think it would be successful to offer him a bribe, so I +thanked him and walked away. As the hall porter opened the door for me I +dropped him a word. In two minutes he came out to where I was waiting. + +“‘A Miss Roscastle left here a week or two ago,’ I said. ‘They won’t +give me her address, but you can get it. Here’s a Bradbury. I’ll be here +again in half-an-hour and if you’ve got the address--the house, not the +theatre--there’ll be another for you when I’ve verified it.’ + +“He looked a bit doubtful. Evidently a decent fellow, I thought. + +“‘It’s quite all right,’ I assured him. ‘We are engaged, but I’ve only +just come over.’ + +“He was waiting for me when I returned. The first thing he did was to +tender me the note back again--a piece of superfluous honesty that +prepared me for the worst. + +“‘I’m sorry, sir, but it’s no go,’ he explained. ‘The young lady left no +address beyond the theatre.’ + +“‘You called a cab for her when she went?’ I suggested. + +“‘Yes, sir, but she gave the directions while I was bringing out her +things. I never heard where it was to go.’” + +“And that is as far as we have got up to this moment, Max,” struck in Mr +Carlyle briskly. + +“I’m afraid it is,” corroborated Enniscorthy. “I got round to the stage +door here in time to see most of the people leave, but neither Miss +Roscastle nor the girl like her were among them.” + +“She is off half-an-hour before the piece finishes,” explained Carrados. +“And of course she might not leave by the stage door.” + +“In any case it is an extraordinary enough business, is it not, Mr +Carrados?” said Enniscorthy, rather anxious not to be set down a +blundering young idiot for his pains. “What does it mean?” + +“So far I would describe it as--curious,” admitted Carrados guardedly. +“Investigation may justify a stronger term. In the meanwhile we need not +miss the play.” + +By this time the theatre had practically filled and the orchestra was +tuning up for the overture. With nothing to occupy his attention, Mr +Enniscorthy began to manifest an unhappy restlessness that increased +until the play had been proceeding for some few minutes. Then Carrados +heard Mr Carlyle murmur, “Charming! Charming!” in a tone of mature +connoisseurship; there was a spontaneous round of applause and “Mary +Ryan” was on the scene. + +“The understudy again,” Enniscorthy whispered to his companions. + +“Well,” remarked Mr Carlyle when the curtain descended for the first +interval, “you are still equally convinced, Mr Enniscorthy?” + +“There isn’t the shadow of a doubt,” he replied. + +Carrados had been writing a few lines on one of his cards. He now +summoned an attendant. + +“Mr Stokesey is in the house?” he asked. “Then give him this, +please--when you next go that way.” + +Before the curtain rose the girl came round to the box again. + +“Mr Carrados?” she inquired. “Mr Stokesey told me to say that he would +save you the trouble by looking in here during the next interval.” + +“Shall I remain?” asked Enniscorthy. + +“Oh yes. Stokesey is a most amiable man to do with. I know him slightly. +His attitude to you was evidently the outcome of the circumstances. We +shall all get along very nicely.” + +The second act was the occasion of “Mary Ryan’s” great opportunity and +again she carried the enthusiasm of the audience. After the curtain the +young actress had to respond to an insistent call. In the darkness Mr +Stokesey entered the box and stood waiting at the back. + +“Glad to see you here again, Mr Carrados,” he remarked, shaking hands +with the blind man as soon as the lights were up. Then he looked at the +other occupants. “My word, I have put my head into the lion’s den!” he +continued, his smile deepening into a good-natured grin. “Don’t shoot, +Mr Enniscorthy; I will climb down without. I see that the game is up.” + +“What are you going to tell us?” asked Carrados. + +“Everything I know. The lady who has just gone off is not Miss +Roscastle. Mr Enniscorthy was quite right; she wasn’t here last night +either.” + +“Then why is her name still in the programme, and why do you and your +people keep up the fiction?” demanded Enniscorthy. + +“Because I hoped that Miss Roscastle might have returned to the cast +to-night, and, failing to-night, I hope that she will return to-morrow. +Because we happen to have a substitute in Miss Linknorth so +extraordinarily like the original lady in appearance and voice that no +one--excluding yourself--will have noticed the difference, and because I +have a not unreasonable objection to announcing that the chief +attraction of my theatre is out of the cast. Is there anything very +unaccountable in that?” + +Mr Carlyle nodded acquiescence to this moderate proposition; Enniscorthy +seemed to admit it reluctantly; it remained for Carrados to accept the +challenge. + +“Only one thing,” he replied with some reluctance. + +“And what is that?” + +“That Miss Roscastle will not return to the cast and that you are well +aware why she never can return to it.” + +“I--what?” demanded the astonished manager. + +“Miss Roscastle cannot _return_ to the cast because she has never been +in it.” + +Stokesey wavered, burst into a roar of laughter and sat down. + +“I give in,” he exclaimed heartily. “That’s my last ditch. Now you +really do know everything that I do.” + +“But why has she not been in?” demanded Enniscorthy. + +“Better ask the lady herself. I cannot even guess.” + +“I will when I can find her.” Not for the first time the young man was +assailed by a horrid fear that he might have been making a fool of +himself. “Where in the meantime is she?” + +“The Lord alone knows,” retorted Mr Stokesey feelingly. “Don’t +annihilate me, Mr Enniscorthy; I don’t mean a member of the peerage. +But, I’ll tell you, the lady put me in a very deuced fix.” + +“Won’t you take us into your confidence?” suggested Carrados. + +“I will, Mr Carrados, because I want a consideration from you in return. +I can put it into a very few words. Twenty minutes before the curtain +went up on the first night a note was sent in to Miss Roscastle. She +read it, put on her hat and coat and went out hurriedly by the stage +door.” + +“Well?” said Carlyle encouragingly. + +“That is all. That is the last we saw of her--heard of her. She never +returned.” + +“But--but----” stammered Enniscorthy, and came up short before the +abysmal nature of the prospect confronting him. + +“There are a good many ‘buts’ to be taken into consideration, Mr +Enniscorthy,” said the manager, with a rather cryptic look. “Fortunately +we had Miss Linknorth, and the first costume, as you know, is +immaterial. Up to the last possible moment we hung on to Miss +Roscastle’s return. Then the other had to go on.” + +“With not very serious consequences to the success of the play, +apparently,” remarked Carrados. + +“That’s the devilment of it,” exclaimed Stokesey warmly. “Don’t you see +the hole it has put me into? If ‘Mary Ryan’ had remained a negligible +quantity it wouldn’t have mattered two straws. But for her own +diabolical vanity Miss Linknorth made a confounded success of the part. +Of course it was too late to have any alteration printed on the first +night and now Miss Roscastle is the draw of the piece. People come to +see Miss Roscastle. Miss Roscastle _is_ the piece.” + +“But if you explained that Miss Linknorth was really the creator of the +part----” suggested Mr Carlyle. + +Stokesey rattled a provocative laugh at the back of his throat. + +“You run a theatre for a few seasons, my dear fellow, and then talk,” he +retorted. “You can’t explain; you can’t do anything; you can only just +sit there. People cease to be rational beings when they set out for a +theatre. If you breathe on a howling success it goes out. If you move a +gold mine of a piece from one theatre to another, next door, everyone +promptly decides to stay away. Don’t ask me the reasons; there are none. +It isn’t a business; it ought to come under the Gaming Act.” + +“Mr Stokesey is also faced by the alternative that after he had +announced Miss Linknorth, Miss Roscastle might appear any time and claim +her place.” + +The manager nodded. “That’s another consideration,” he said. + +“But could she?” inquired Mr Carlyle. “After absenting herself in this +way?” + +“Oh, goodness knows; I dare say she could--agreements are no good when +it comes to anything happening. At any rate here am I with an element of +success after a procession of distinct non-stops. If we get well set, +whatever happens will matter less. Now I haven’t gone to any +Machiavellian lengths in arranging this, but I have taken the chance as +it came along. I’ve told you everything I know. Is there any reason why +you shouldn’t do us all a good turn by keeping it strictly to +yourselves?” + +“I don’t know that I particularly owe you any consideration, Mr +Stokesey, or that you owe me any,” announced Mr Enniscorthy. “Just now I +am only concerned in discovering what has become of Miss Roscastle. You +know her address?” + +“In Kensington?” + +“Well, yes.” + +“74 Westphalia Mansions.” + +“You sent there of course?” + +“Heavens, yes! The various forms of messages must be six inches deep all +over the hall by now. Last Friday I had a man sitting practically all +day on her doorstep.” + +“But she has someone there--a housekeeper or maid?” + +“I don’t think so. She told me that she was taking a little furnished +flat--asked me if the neighbourhood was a suitable one. I imagine there +was something about a daily woman until she found how she liked it. +We’ve had no one from there anyway.” + +“Then it comes to this, that for a week there has been absolutely no +trace of Miss Roscastle’s existence! Do you quite realise your +responsibility, Mr Stokesey?” demanded Enniscorthy with increased +misgivings. + +The manager, who had turned to go, caught Mr Carlyle’s eye over the +concerned young man’s shoulder. “I don’t think that Miss Roscastle’s +friends need have any anxiety about her personal safety,” he replied +with expression. “At all events I’ve done everything I can for you; I +hope that you will not fail to meet my views. If there’s anything else +that occurs to you, Mr Carrados, I shall be in my office. Good-night.” + +“Callous brute!” muttered Mr Enniscorthy. “He ought to have put it in +the hands of the police a week ago.” + +Mr Carlyle glanced at Carrados, who had transferred his interest to the +rendering of the last musical item of the interval. + +“Possibly Miss Roscastle would prefer a less public investigation if she +had a voice in the matter,” said the professional man. + +“If she happens to be shut up in some beastly underground cellar I +imagine she would prefer whatever gets her out the soonest. I dare say +it sounds fantastic, but such things really do happen now and then, you +know, and why not?” + +“You don’t know of any threats or blackmailing letters?” + +“No,” admitted the young man; “but I do know this, that if Una was at +liberty she would never allow another actress to take her place and use +her name in this way.” + +“A very significant suggestion,” put in Carrados from his detached +attitude. “Mr Enniscorthy has given you a really valuable hint, Louis.” + +“I don’t mean that Miss Roscastle is really out-of-the-way jealous,” +Enniscorthy hastened to add, “but in her profession----” + +“Oh, most natural, most natural,” agreed the urbane Carlyle. “Everyone +has to look after his own interest. Now----” + +“I don’t suppose that you are particularly keen on this act,” interposed +the blind man. “Are you, Mr Enniscorthy?” + +“I’d much rather be doing something,” was the reply. + +“I was going to suggest that you might go round to Westphalia Mansions, +just to make sure that there is no one there now. Then if you would find +your way to our table at the Savoy we could hear your report.” + +“Yes, certainly. I shall be glad to think that I can be of some +assistance by going.” + +Mr Carlyle’s optimistic temper was almost incapable of satire, but he +could not refrain from, “You can--poor beggar!” on Enniscorthy’s +departure. “I suppose,” he continued, turning to his friend, “I suppose +you think that Stokesey may----? Eh?” + +“I fancy that in the absence of our young friend he may be induced to +become more confidential. He may have some good ground for believing +that the missing lady will not upset his ingenious plan. He, at all +events, discounts the ‘underground cellar.’” + +“Oh, that!” commented Carlyle with an indulgent smile. “But, after all, +what is the answer, Max? Enniscorthy is a thoroughly eligible young +fellow and this was the first chance of her career. What is the +inducement?” + +“That much we can safely emphasise. What, in a word, would induce an +ambitious young lady to throw up a good engagement, Louis?” + +“A better?” suggested Mr Carlyle. + +“Exactly,” agreed Carrados; “a better.” + +It is unnecessary to follow the course of Mr Carlyle’s inquiry on the +facts already disclosed, for, less than twenty-four hours later, the +whole situation was changed and Mr Stokesey’s discreet prevarication had +been torn into shreds. The manager had calculated in vain--if he had +calculated and not just accepted the chance that presented itself. At +all events the fiction proved too elaborate to be maintained and late in +the afternoon of the following day all the evening papers blazed out +with the + + “SENSATIONAL DISAPPEARANCE OF + POPULAR LONDON ACTRESS” + +The event was particularly suited to the art of the contents bill, for +when the news came to be analysed there was little else to be learned +beyond the name of the missing actress and the fact that “at the theatre +a policy of questionable reticence is being maintained towards all +inquiry.” That phrase caused two men at least to smile as they realised +the embarrassment of Mr Stokesey’s dubious position. + +The conditions being favourable, the Missing Actress sensation caught on +at once and effectually asphyxiated public interest in all the other +sensations that up to that moment had been satisfying the mental +requirements of the nation--a “Mysterious Submarine,” an “Eloping Dean” +(three wives), and an “Are We Becoming Too Intellectual?” +correspondence. Supply followed demand, and it very soon became +difficult to decide, not where Miss Roscastle was, but where she was +not. Public opinion wavered between Genoa, on the authority of a retired +lime and slate merchant of Hull who had had a presentiment while +directing a breathless lady to the docks, when a Wilson liner was on the +point of sailing; Leatherhead, the suggestion of a booking-office clerk +who had been struck by the peculiar look in a veiled lady’s eyes as she +asked for a third-class return to Cheam; and Accrington, where a young +lady with a marked Irish accent and a theatrical manner had inquired +about lodgings at three different houses and then abruptly left, saying +that she would come back if she thought any more about it. + +Before the novelty was two days old Scotland Yard had been stirred into +recognising its existence. A London clue was forthcoming, apparently the +wildest and most circumstantial of them all. A plain-clothes constable +of the A Division reported that an hour after midnight three days before +he had noticed a shabby-genteel man, who seemed to be waiting for +someone, loitering on the Embankment near the Boadicea statue. There was +nothing in the circumstance to interest him, but when he repassed the +spot ten minutes later the man had been joined by a woman. The sharp +eyes of the constable told him that the woman was well and even +fashionably dressed, although she had made some precaution to conceal +it, and the fact quickened his observation. As he shambled past--an +Embankment dead-beat for the occasion--he heard the name “Roscastle” +spoken by one of the two. He could not distinguish by which, nor the +sense in which the word was used, but his notebook, with the name +written down under the correct date, corroborated so much. On neither +occasion had he seen the face of the man distinctly--the threadbare +individual had sought the shadows--but he was able to describe that of +the woman in some detail. He was shown half-a-dozen photographs and at +once identified that of Miss Roscastle. The crowning touch requisite to +make this story entirely popular was supplied by an inspector of river +police. According to the newspaper account, the patrol boat was off the +Embankment near Westminster Bridge between one and a quarter-past on the +night in question when a distinct splash was heard. The crew made for +the spot, flashed the lights about and drifted up and down several +times, but without finding a trace of any human presence. At once the +public voice demanded that the river should be dragged from Chelsea to +The Pool, and, pending the result, every shabby wastrel who appeared on +the Embankment arrested. + +In his private office Mr Carlyle threw down the last of his morning +papers with an expression that began as a knowing smile but ended rather +dubiously. For his own part he would have much preferred that the +disappearance of Miss Roscastle had not leaked out--that he had been +left to pursue his course unaided, but, in the circumstances, he +carefully read everything on the chance of a useful hint. The Embankment +story both amused and puzzled him. + +He dismissed the subject to its proper mental pigeonhole and had turned +to deal with his most confidential correspondence when something very +like an altercation breaking the chaste decorum of his outer office +caused him to stop and frown. The next moment there was a hurrying step +outside, the door was snatched open and Mr Enniscorthy, pale and +distracted, stumbled into the room. Behind him appeared the indignant +face of Mr Carlyle’s chief clerk. Then the visitor extinguished the +outraged vision by flinging back the door as he went forward. + +“Have you seen the papers?” he demanded. “Is there anything dreadful in +them?” + +“I have seen the papers, yes,” replied the puzzled agent. “I am not +aware----” + +“I mean the evening papers--just out. No, I see you haven’t. Here, read +that and tell me. I haven’t--I dare not look.” + +Mr Carlyle took the journal that Enniscorthy thrust under his eyes--it +was the earliest _Star_--glanced into his visitor’s face a little +severely and then focussed on the column. + +“Good heavens!” he exclaimed, “what is this! ‘MISSING ACTRESS. +EMBANKMENT CLUE. BODY FOUND!’” + +“Ah!” groaned Enniscorthy. “That was on the bills. Is it----?” + +“It’s all right, it’s all right, my dear sir,” reported Mr Carlyle, +glancing along the lines. “This is the body of a man ... the man who was +seen ... most extraordinary....” + +“My God!” was wrung from the distressed young man as he dropped into a +chair. “Oh, my God! I thought----” He took out his handkerchief, wiped +and fanned his face, and for the next few minutes looked rather +languidly on things. + +“Very distressing,” commiserated Mr Carlyle when he had come to the end +of the report. “Can I get you anything--brandy, a glass of water----? +The mere act of sipping, I am medically informed, has a beneficial +effect in case of faintness. I have----” + +“Nothing, thanks. I shall be all right now. Sorry to have made an ass of +myself. You have heard--anything?” + +“Nothing definite so far,” was the admission. “But there may be +something worth following in this story after all. I shall go down to +the mortuary shortly. Do you care to accompany me?” + +“No, thanks,” replied the visitor. “I have had enough of that particular +form of excitement for one morning.... Unless, of course, there is +anything I----” + +He was assured that there was nothing to be effected by his presence and +half-an-hour later Mr Carlyle made his way alone to the obscure mortuary +where the unclaimed dead hold their grim reception. + +An inspector of the headquarters investigation staff who had been put on +to the case was standing by the side of one of the shells when Carlyle +entered. He was a man whom the private agent had more than once +good-naturedly obliged in small matters that had come within his reach. +He now greeted Mr Carlyle with consideration and stood aside to allow +him to approach the body. + +“The Embankment case, I suppose, sir?” he remarked. “Not very +attractive, but I’ve seen many worse in here.” He jerked off the upper +part of the rough coverlet and exposed a visage that caused Mr Carlyle +to turn away with a “Tch, tch!” of emotion. Then a sense of duty drew +him round again and he proceeded to note the descriptive points of the +dead man in his pocket-book. + +“No marks of violence, I suppose?” he asked. + +“Nothing beyond the usual abrasions that we always find. A clear case of +drowning--suicide--it seems to be.” + +“And the things?” + +The inspector nodded towards a seedy suit laid out for identification +and an overcoat, once rakish of its fashion and now frayed and +mouldering, put with it. + +“Fur collar too, Mr Carlyle,” pointed out his guide. “‘Velvet and rags,’ +isn’t it? ‘Where moth and rust doth corrupt.’ A sermon could be made out +of this.” + +“Very true; very true indeed,” replied Mr Carlyle, who always responded +to the sentimentally obvious. “It is a sermon, inspector. But what have +we here?” + +Beside the garments had been collected together a heap of metal +discs--quite a considerable heap, numbering some hundreds. Carlyle took +up a few and examined them. They were all alike--flat, perfectly round +and somewhat under an inch in diameter. They were quite plain and +apparently of lead. + +“H’m, curious,” he commented. “In his pockets?” + +“Yes; both overcoat pockets. Very determined, wasn’t he? They would have +kept him down till the Day of Judgment. I’ve counted them--just five +hundred.” + +“Any money?” + +The inspector smiled his tragi-comic appreciation--the coin embellished +the moral of his unwritten sermon--and pointed. + +“A halfpenny!” he replied. + +“Poor fellow!” said Mr Carlyle. “Well, well; perhaps it is better as it +is. You might pull up the cloth again now, please.... There are no +letters or papers, I see.” + +The detective hesitated a moment and then recalled the obligation he was +under. + +“There is a scrap of paper that I have kept from the Press so far,” he +admitted. “It was tightly clenched in the man’s right hand--so tight +that we had to use a screw-driver to get it out, and the water had +barely reached it.” He was extracting a slip of paper from his notebook +as he spoke and he now unfolded it. “You won’t put it about, will you, +Mr Carlyle? I don’t know that there’s anything tangible in it, +but--well, see for yourself.” + +“Extraordinary!” admitted the gentleman. He read the words a second +time: “‘Fool! What does it matter now?’ Why, it might almost----” + +“It might be addressed to the coroner, or to anyone who tries to find +out who he is or what it means, you would say. Well, so it might, sir. +Anyhow, that is all.” + +“By the way, I suppose he _is_ the man your fellow saw?” + +“Everything tallies, Mr Carlyle--length of immersion, place, and so on. +Our man thinks he is the same, but you may remember that he didn’t claim +to be very positive on this point.” + +There seemed nothing else to be learned and Mr Carlyle took his +departure. His acquaintance had also finished and their ways lay +together as far as Trafalgar Square. Before they parted the inspector +had promised to communicate with Mr Carlyle as soon as the dead man was +identified. + +“And if he has a room anywhere he probably will be, with all this talk +about Miss Roscastle. Then we may find something there that will help +us,” he predicted. “If he is purely casual the chances are we shall +never hear.” + +His experience was justified and he kept his promise. Two days later +Carlyle heard that the unknown had been identified as the occupant of a +single room in a Lambeth lodging-house. He had only occupied it for a +few weeks and he was known there as Mr Hay. Tenement gossip described +him as a foreigner and credited him with having seen better days--an +easy enough surmise in the circumstances. Mr Carlyle had been on the +point of turning his attention to a Monte Carlo Miss Roscastle when this +information reached him. He set off at once for Lambeth, but at Tubb’s +Grove disappointment met him at the door. The landlady of the ramshackle +establishment--a female with a fluent if rather monotonous delivery--was +still smarting from the unappreciated honour of the police officials’ +visit and the fierce light of publicity that it had thrown upon her +house. All Mr Carlyle’s bland cajolery was futile and in the end he had +to disburse a sum that bore an appreciable relation to a week’s rent +before he was allowed to inspect the room and to command conversation +that was not purely argumentative. + +Then the barrenness of the land was revealed. Mr Hay had been irregular +with his rent at the best, and when he disappeared he was a week in +arrears. After two days’ absence, with the easy casuistry of her +circumstances, the lady had decided that he was not returning and had +proceeded to “do out” the room for the next tenant. The lodger’s “few +things” she had bundled together into a cupboard, whence they had been +retrieved by the police, in spite of her indignant protest. But the +lodger’s “papers and such-like rubbish” she confessed to burning, to get +them out of the way. Mr Carlyle spent a profitless half-hour and then +returned, calling at Scotland Yard on his way back. His friend the +inspector shook his head; there was nothing among the seized property +that afforded any clue. + +It was at this point that Mr Carlyle’s ingenuous mind suggested looking +up Carrados, whom he had not seen since the visit to the theatre. + +“Max was interested in this case from the first; I am sure he will be +expecting to hear from me about it,” was the form in which the proposal +conveyed itself to him. The same evening he ran down to Richmond for an +hour, after ascertaining that his friend was at home and disengaged. + +“You might have brought Enniscorthy with you,” remarked Carrados when +the subject had been started. “Nice, genuine young fellow. Evidently +deeply in love with the girl, but he is young enough to take the attack +safely. What have you told him?” + +“He is back in Ireland just now--got an idea that he might learn +something from some people there, and rushed off. What I have told +him--well”--experience endowed Mr Carlyle with sudden caution--“what +would you have told him, Max?” + +Carrados smiled at the innocent guile of the invitation. + +“To answer that I should have to know just what you know,” he replied. +“I suppose you have gone into this Embankment development?” + +“Yes.” He had come intending to make some show of his progress and to +sound Carrados discreetly, but once again in the familiar room and under +the sway of the clear-visioned blind man’s virile personality he +suddenly found himself submitting quite naturally to the suave, +dominating influence. “Yes; but I must confess, Max, that I am unable to +explain much of that incident. It suggests blackmail at the bottom, and +if the plain-clothes man was correct and saw Miss Roscastle there last +Thursday----” + +“It was blackmail; but the plain-clothes man was not correct, though he +had every excuse for making the mistake. There is one quiet, retiring +personage in this drama who has been signally overlooked in all the +clamour.” + +“You mean----?” + +“I suggest that if Miss Linknorth had been subpœnaed for the inquest and +asked to account for her movements after leaving the theatre on Thursday +last it might have turned public speculation into another +channel--though probably a wrong one.” + +“Miss Linknorth!” The idea certainly turned Mr Carlyle’s thoughts into a +new channel. + +“Has it occurred to you what an extraordinary act of self-effacement it +must have been on the part of this young unknown actress to allow her +well-earned success to be credited to another? As Enniscorthy reminded +us, ladies of the profession are rather keen on their chances.” + +“Yes; but Stokesey, you remember, insisted on keeping it dark.” + +“I am not overlooking that. But although it was to Stokesey’s interest +to keep up the fiction, and also to the interest of everyone else about +the theatre--people who were merely concerned in the run of the +piece--it would have richly paid the Linknorth to have her identity +established while the iron was hot, whatever the outcome. A paragraph to +the Press the next day would have done it. There wasn’t a hint. I am not +overlooking the fact that Miss Linknorth’s name now appears on the +programme, but that is an unforeseen development so far as she is +concerned, and her golden opportunity has gone by. With the exception of +the first row of the pit and of the gallery you won’t find that one per +cent. of the house now really knows who created ‘Mary Ryan’ or regards +the Linknorth as anything but a makeshift.” + +“Then what was the incentive?” + +“Suppose it has been made worth Miss Linknorth’s while? It is not +necessarily a crude question of money. Friendship might make it worth +her while, or ambition in some quarter we have not looked for, or a +dozen other considerations--anything but the box-office of the Argosy +Theatre, which certainly did not make it worth her while.” + +“Yes, that is feasible enough, Max, but how does it help us?” + +“Do you ever have toothache, Louis?” demanded Carrados inconsequently. + +“No, I am glad to say,” admitted Mr Carlyle. “Have you got a turn now, +old man? Never mind this confounded ‘shop.’ I’ll go and then you +can----” + +“Not at all,” interposed Carrados, smiling benignly at his friend’s +consideration; “and don’t be too ready to condemn toothache +indiscriminately. I have sometimes found it very stimulating. The only +way to cure it is to concentrate the mind so terrifically that you +forget the ache. Then it stops. I imagine that a mathematician could +succeed by working out a monumental problem. I have frequently done it +by ‘discovering’ a hoard of Greek coins of the highest art period on one +of the islands and classifying the find. On Monday night I thought that +I was in for a devil of a time. I at once set myself to discover a +workable theory for everyone’s conduct in this affair, one, of course, +that would stand the test of every objection based on fact. The correct +hypothesis must, indeed, be strengthened by every new circumstance that +came out. At twelve o’clock, after two hours’ mental sudation, I began +to see light--excuse the phrase. By this time the toothache had gone, +but I was so taken up with the idea that I called out Harris and drove +to Scotland Yard then and there on the chance of finding Beedel or one +of the others I know.... Why on earth didn’t you let me have that +‘Fool!’ message, Louis?” + +“My dear fellow,” protested Mr Carlyle, “I can’t beat up for advice on +every day of my life.” + +“At all events it might have saved me an hour’s strenuous thinking.” + +“Well, you know, Max, perhaps that would have left you in the middle of +the toothache. Now the message----?” + +“The message? Oh, that settled it. You may take it as assured, Louis, +that although Miss Roscastle’s departure from the theatre was hurried, +in order to allow her to catch the boat-train from Charing Cross, she +had enough time to think out the situation and to secure Miss +Linknorth’s allegiance. Whether Stokesey knows any more than he admits, +we need not inquire. The great thing is that Miss Roscastle had some +reason--some fairly strong reason--for not wanting her absence from the +cast to become public. We agreed, Louis, that a better engagement would +alone satisfactorily explain her defection. What better engagement would +you suggest--it could scarcely be a theatrical one?” + +“A brilliant marriage?” + +“Our minds positively ident, Louis. ‘A brilliant marriage’--my exact +expression. One, moreover, that suddenly becomes possible and cannot be +delayed. One--here we are on difficult ground--one that may be +jeopardised if at that early stage Miss Roscastle’s identity in it comes +to light, or if, possibly, her absence from London is discovered. That +sign-post,” said Carrados, with his unseeing eyes fixed on the +lengthening vistas that rose before his mind, “points in a good many +directions.” + +“The blackmailer?” hazarded Carlyle. + +“I gave a good deal of attention to every phase of that gentleman’s +presence,” replied Carrados. “It corroborates, but it does not entirely +explain. I would say that he merely intervened. In my view, Miss +Roscastle would have acted precisely as she did if there had been no Mr +Hay. At all events he _did_ intervene and had to be dealt with.” + +“It had occurred to me, Max, whether it was Miss Linknorth’s job to +impersonate the other?” + +“It may have been originally. If so, it failed, for Hay proceeded with +his demand. His price was five hundred pounds in English or French +gold--an interesting phase of your ordinary blackmailer’s antipathy to +paper--merely an _hors d’œuvre_ to the solid things to come, of course. +But he was not dealing with a fool. Whether Miss Roscastle frankly had +not five hundred pounds just then, or whether she was better advised, we +cannot say. She temporised, the Linknorth being the intermediary. Then +the dummy pieces? Hay _was_ a menace and had to be held off. At one +point there may well have been the pretence of handing over the cash and +then at the last moment some specious difficulty, necessitating a short +delay, is raised. That would account for the otherwise unnecessary +detail of the lead counterfeits, for there is no need of them on +Thursday. Then, when the danger is past, when the tricked scoundrel has +lost his sting, _then_ there is no attempt at evasion or compromise. +‘Fool! What does it matter now?’ is the contemptuously unguarded message +and the five hundred doits are pressed upon him to complete his +humiliation. Why doesn’t it matter, Louis? Is there any other answer +than that Miss Roscastle is safely married?” + +“It certainly looks like it,” agreed Mr Carlyle. “But if there was +anything so serious as to have compromised the marriage, surely Hay +could still have held it over her, as against her husband?” + +“If it was as against the husband before--yes, perhaps. But suppose the +chink in the armour was the good grace of some third person whose +consent was necessary? This brilliant marriage.... Well, I don’t commit +myself any further. At any rate, in the lady’s estimation she is safe, +and if she had deliberately sought to goad Hay into suicide she couldn’t +have done better. He read the single line that shattered his greedy +dreams and its disdainful triumph struck him like a whip. He had spent +literally his last penny on pressing his unworthy persecution, and now +he stood, beggared and beaten, on the Embankment at midnight--‘he, a +gentleman.’ ... It doesn’t matter how he took it. He went over, and the +muddy waters of the Thames closed over the last page of his rotten +history.” + +“Max!” exclaimed Mr Carlyle with feeling. “Remember the poor beggar, +with all his failings, is dead now. Not that I should mind,” he added +cheerfully, “but I saw him afterwards, you know. Enniscorthy had the +sense to keep away. And, by Gad! Max, that reminds me that this is +rather rough on my confiding young client--running up a bill to have a +successful rival sprung upon his hopes. Have you any idea who he is?” + +“Yes,” admitted Carrados, “I have an idea, but to-day it is nothing more +than that. When does Enniscorthy return?” + +“He ought to be back in London on Friday morning.” + +“By then I should know something definite. If you will make an +appointment with him for Friday at half-past eleven I will look in on my +way through town.” + +“Certainly, Max, certainly.” There was a note of faithful expectation in +Mr Carlyle’s voice that caused his friend to smile. He crossed the room +to his most-used desk and opened one of the smaller drawers. + +“For this simple demonstration, Louis, I require only two appliances, +neither of which, as you will see, is a rabbit or a handkerchief. In +other and saner words, there are only two exhibits. That is from _The +Morning Mail_; this is from the Westminster street refuse tip.” + +“This” was a small brown canvas bag. Traces of red sealing-wax still +marked the neck and across it were stamped the words: + + BANQUE DE L’UNION + CLAIRVAUX + +Mr Carlyle looked inside. It was empty, but a few specks of dull grey +metal still lodged among the cloth. He turned to the other object, as +Carrados had indicated an extract from the daily Press. It was a mere +slip of paper and consisted of the following paragraph: + + + “From Clairvaux, in the Pas de Calais, France, where he purchased a + country estate when he was driven into exile, it is reported that + ex-King Constantine of Villalyia has been lying dangerously ill for + the past week.” + + +“Quite so, quite so,” murmured Carlyle, quietly turning over the cutting +to satisfy himself that he was reading the right side. + + * * * * * + +“I see that you haven’t anything very hopeful to report,” said Mr +Enniscorthy--he and Max Carrados had entered Mr Carlyle’s office within +a minute of each other two days later--“but let me have it out.” + +“It isn’t quite a matter of being hopeful or the reverse,” replied the +blind man. “It is merely final to your ambition. You know Prince Ulric +of Villalyia?” + +“I have been presented. He hunted in Ireland last season.” + +“He knew Miss Roscastle?” + +“They were acquainted, she has told me.” + +“It went deeper than you imagined. Miss Roscastle is Princess Ulric of +Villalyia to-day.” + +“Una! Oh,” cried Enniscorthy, “but--but that is impossible! You don’t +mean that she----” + +“I mean exactly what I say. They were married within a week of her +disappearance from London.” + +Enniscorthy’s pained gaze went from face to face. The fatal presentiment +that had always just robbed him of the heroic--the fear that he might be +making an ass of himself--again assailed him. + +“But isn’t Ulric in the line of succession? They couldn’t be really +married without the king’s consent. Of course Villalyia is a republic +now, but----” + +“But it may not be to-morrow if the expected war breaks out? Quite true, +Mr Enniscorthy. And in the meanwhile the forms and ceremonies are +maintained at the exile Court of Clairvaux. Yet the king gave his +consent.” + +“Gave his consent! For his son to marry an actress?” + +“Ah, there was a little sleight of hand there. He only knew Miss +Roscastle as Miss Eileen O’Rourke, the last representative of a line of +Irish kings. She was a Miss O’Rourke?” + +“Yes. Roscastle was only her stage name. The O’Rourkes were a very old +but impoverished family.” + +“Royal, we may assume. This business was the outcome of one of the +interminable domestic squabbles that the Villalyia Petrosteins seemed to +wage in order to supply the Continental comic papers with material. +Ex-King Constantine recently quarrelled simultaneously and irrevocably +with his eldest son Robert and his first cousin Michael. Robert, who +lives in Paris, has respectably married a robust minor princess who has +presented him with six unattractive daughters and now, by all report, +stopped finally. Hating both son and cousin almost equally, old +Constantine, who had fumed himself into a fever, sent off for his other +son, Ulric, and demanded that he should at once marry and found a +prolific line of sons to embitter Robert and cut out the posterity of +Michael. Prince Ulric merely replied that there was only one woman whom +he wished to marry and she was not of sufficiently exalted station, and +as she refused to marry him morganatically--yes, Mr Enniscorthy--there +was no prospect of his ever marrying at all. The king suddenly found +that he was very ill. Ulric was obdurate. The constitution allowed the +reigning monarch to sanction such an alliance, provided there were no +religious difficulties, and I understand that Miss Roscastle is a +Catholic. Constantine recognised that if he was to gratify his whim he +must consent, and that at once, as he was certainly dying. As things +were, Ulric would probably renounce and marry ignominiously or die +unmarried and the hated Michaels would step in, for, once king, the +conventional Robert would never give his consent to such an alliance. +Besides, it would be a ‘damned slap in the face’ to half the remaining +royalty of Europe, and Constantine had always posed as a democratic +sovereign--that was why his people ran him out. He coughed himself faint +and then commanded the lady to be sent for.” + +“If only Una had confided in me I would--yes, I would willingly have +flown to serve her.” + +“I think that Miss Roscastle was well qualified to serve herself,” +responded Carrados dryly. “Now you can put together the whole story, Mr +Enniscorthy. Many pages of it are necessarily obscure. What the man Hay +knew and threatened--whether it was with him in view or the emissaries +of the hostile Robert and Michael that she took the sudden chance of +concealing her absence and cloaking her identity--what other wheels +there were, what other influences at work--these are only superfluities. +The essential thing is that, in spite of cross-currents, everything went +well--for her, and perhaps for you; the lady’s married and there’s an +end of it.” + +“I hope that she will be as happy as I should have tried to make her,” +said Enniscorthy rather shakily. “I shall always think of her. Mr +Carrados, I will write to thank you when I am better able to express +myself. Mr Carlyle, you know my address. Good-morning.” + +“A very manly way of taking it and very properly expressed--very well +indeed,” declared Mr Carlyle with warm approval as the door closed. +“Max, that is the outcome of good blood--blood and breeding.” + +“Nonsense, you romantic old humbug,” said Carrados with affectionate +contempt. “I have heard exactly the same words in similar circumstances +once before and they were spoken by a Canning Town bricklayer’s +labourer.” + +One incident only remains to be added. A month later Mr Carlyle was +passing the Kemble Club when he became conscious of someone trying to +avoid him. With a not unnatural impulse he made for his acquaintance and +insisted on being recognised. + +“Ah, Mr Stokesey,” he exclaimed, “_Call a Spade----_ is still going +strong, I see.” + +“Mr Carlyle, to be sure,” said the manager. “Bother me if I didn’t +mistake you for a deadhead who always strikes me for a pass. Good +heavens! yes; they come in droves and companies to see the part that the +romantic Princess Ulric of Villalyia didn’t create! I’ve had three +summonses for my pit queue. Didn’t I tell you it was a gamble? When I +have to find a successor--_when_, mind, I say--I’m going to put on _You +Never Can Tell_! What?” + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + VII + + The Ingenious Mr Spinola + + +“You seem troubled, Parkinson. Have you been reading the Money Article +again?” + +Parkinson, who had been lingering a little aimlessly about the room, +exhibited symptoms of embarrassed guilt. Since an unfortunate day, when +it had been convincingly shown to the excellent fellow that to leave his +accumulated savings on deposit at the bank was merely an uninviting mode +of throwing money away, it is not too much to say that his few hundreds +had led Parkinson a sorry life. Inspired by a natural patriotism and an +appreciation of the advantage of 4½ over 1¼ per cent., he had at once +invested in consols. A very short time later a terrible line in a +financial daily--“Consols weak”--caught his agitated eye. Consols were +precipitately abandoned and a “sound industrial” took their place. Then +came the rumours of an impending strike and the Conservative press +voiced gloomy forebodings for the future of industrial capital. An +urgent selling order, bearing Mr Parkinson’s signature, was the +immediate outcome. + +In the next twelve months Parkinson’s few hundreds wandered through many +lands and in a modest way went to support monarchies and republics, to +carry on municipal enterprise and to spread the benefits of commerce. +And, through all, they contrived to exist. They even assisted in +establishing a rubber plantation in Madagascar and exploiting an oil +discovery in Peru and yet survived. If everything could have been lost +by one dire reverse Parkinson would have been content--even relieved; +but with her proverbial inconsequence Fortune began by smiling and +continued to smile--faintly, it is true, but appreciably--on her +timorous votary. In spite of his profound ignorance of finance each of +Parkinson’s qualms and tremors resulted in a slight pecuniary margin to +his credit. At the end of twelve months he had drawn a respectable +interest, was somewhat to the good in capital, and as a waste product +had acquired an abiding reputation among a small but choice coterie as a +very “knowing one.” + +“Thank you, sir, but I am sorry if I seemed engrossed in my own +affairs,” he apologised in answer to Mr Carrados’s inquiry. “As a matter +of fact,” he added, “I hoped that I had finished with Stock Exchange +transactions for the future.” + +“Ah, to be sure,” assented Carrados. “A block of cottages Acton way, +wasn’t it to be?” + +“I did at one time consider the investment, but on reflection I decided +against property of that description. The association with houses +occupied by the artisan class would not have been congenial, sir.” + +“Still, it might have been profitable.” + +“Possibly, sir. I have, however, taken up a mortgage on a detached house +standing in its own grounds at Highgate. It was strongly recommended by +your own estate agents--by Mr Lethbridge himself, sir.” + +“I hope it will prove satisfactory, Parkinson.” + +“I hope so, sir, but I do not feel altogether reassured now, after +seeing it.” + +“After seeing it? But you saw it before you took it up, surely?” + +“As a matter of fact, no, sir. It was pointed out to me that the +security was ample, and as I had no practical knowledge of house-valuing +there was nothing to be gained by inspecting it. At the same time I was +given the opportunity, I must admit; but as we were rather busy then--it +was just before we went to Rome, sir--I never went there.” + +“Well, after all,” admitted Carrados, “I hold a fair number of mortgage +securities on railways and other property that I have never been within +a thousand miles of. I am not in a position to criticise you, Parkinson. +And this house--I suppose that it does really exist?” + +“Oh yes, sir. I spent yesterday afternoon in the neighbourhood. Now that +the trees are out there is not a great deal that can be actually seen +from the road, but I satisfied myself that in the winter the house must +be distinctly visible from several points.” + +“That is very satisfactory,” said Carrados with equal seriousness. “But, +after all, the title is the chief thing.” + +“So I am given to understand. Doubtless it would not be sound business, +sir, but I think that if the title had been a little worse, and the +appearance of the grounds a little better, I should have felt more +secure. But what really concerned me is that the house is being talked +about.” + +“Talked about?” + +“Yes. It is in a secluded position, but there are some old-fashioned +cottages near and these people notice things, sir. It is not difficult +to induce them to talk. Refreshments are procurable at one of the +cottages and I had tea there. I have since thought, from a remark made +to me on leaving, that the idea may have got about that I was connected +with the Scotland Yard authorities. I had no apprehension at the time of +creating such an impression, sir, but I wished to make a few casual +inquiries.” + +Carrados nodded. “Quite so,” he murmured encouragingly. + +“It was then that I discovered what I have alluded to. These people, +having become suspicious, watch all that is to be seen at Strathblane +Lodge--as it is called--and talk. They do not know what goes on there.” + +“That must be very disheartening for them.” + +“Well, sir, they find it trying. Up to less than a year ago the house +was occupied by a commercial gentleman and everything was quite regular. +But with the new people they don’t know which are the family and who are +the servants. Two or three men having the appearance of mechanics seem +to be there continually, and sometimes, generally in the evening, there +are visitors of a class whom one would not associate with the +unpretentious nature of the establishment. Gentlemen for the most part, +but occasionally ladies, I was told, coming in taxis or private motor +cars and generally in evening dress.” + +“That ought to reassure these neighbours--the private cars and evening +dress.” + +“I cannot say that it does, sir. And what I heard made me a little +nervous also.” + +Something was evidently on the ingenuous creature’s mind. The blind +man’s face wore a faintly amused smile, but he gauged the real measure +of his servant’s apprehension. + +“Nervous of what, Parkinson?” he inquired kindly. + +“Some thought that it might be a gambling-house, but others said it +looked as if a worse business was carried on there. I should not like +there to be any scandal or exposure, sir, and perhaps the mortgage +forfeited in consequence.” + +“But, good heavens, man! you don’t imagine that a mortgage is like a +public-house licence, to be revoked in consequence of a rowdy tenant, +surely?” + +Parkinson’s dubious silence made it increasingly plain that he had, +indeed, associated his security with some such contingency, a conviction +based, it appeared, when he admitted his fears, on a settled belief in +the predatory intentions of a Government with whom he was not in +sympathy. + +“Don’t give the thing another thought,” counselled his employer. “If +Lethbridge recommended the investment you may be sure that it is all +right. As for what goes on there--that doesn’t matter two straws to you, +and in any case it is probably idle chatter.” + +“Thank you, sir. It is a relief to have your assurance. I see now that I +ought to have paid no attention to such conversation, but being +anxious--and seeing Sir Fergus Copling go there----” + +“Sir Fergus Copling? You saw him there?” + +“Yes, sir. I thought that I remembered a car that was waiting for the +gate to be opened. Then I recognised Sir Fergus: it was the small dark +blue car that he has come here in. And just after what I had been +hearing----” + +“But Sir Fergus Copling! He’s a testimonial of propriety. Do you know +what you are talking about, Parkinson?” + +The excellent man looked even more deeply troubled than he had been +about his money. + +“Not in that sense, sir,” he protested. “I only understood that he was a +gentleman of position and a very large income, and after just listening +to what was being said----” + +Carrados’s scepticism was intelligible. Copling was the last man to be +associated with a scandal of fast life. He had come into his baronetcy +quite unexpectedly a few years previously while engaged in the drab but +apparently congenial business of teaching arithmetic at a public school. +The chief advantage of the change of fortune, as it appeared to the +recipient, was that it enabled him to transfer his attention from the +lower to the higher mathematics. Without going out of his way to flout +the conventions, he set himself a comparatively simple standard of +living. He was too old and fixed, he said, to change much--forty and a +bachelor--and the most optimistic spinster in town had reluctantly come +to acquiesce. + +Carrados had not forgotten this conversation when next he encountered +Sir Fergus a week or so later. He knew the man well enough to be able to +lead up to the subject and when an identifiable footstep fell on his ear +in the hall of the Metaphysical (the dullest club in Europe, it was +generally admitted) he called across to the baronet, who, as a matter of +fact, had been too abstracted to notice him or anyone else. + +“You aren’t a member, are you?” asked Copling when they had shaken +hands. “I didn’t know that you went in for this sort of thing.” The +motion of his head indicated the monumental library which he had just +quitted, but it might possibly be taken as indicating the general +atmosphere of profound somnolence that enveloped the Metaphysical. + +“I am not a member,” admitted Carrados. “I only came to gather some +material.” + +“Statistics?” queried Copling with interest. “We have a very useful +range of works.” He suddenly remembered his acquaintance’s affliction. +“By the way, can I be of any use to you?” + +“Yes, if you will,” said Carrados. “Let me go to lunch with you. There +is an appalling bore hanging about and he’ll nab me if I don’t get past +under protection.” + +Copling assented readily enough and took the blind man’s arm. + +“Where, though?” he asked at the door. “I generally”--he hesitated, with +a shy laugh--“I generally go to an A.B.C. tea-shop myself. It doesn’t +waste so much time. But, of course----” + +“Of course, a tea-shop by all means,” assented Carrados. + +“You are sure that you don’t mind?” persisted the baronet anxiously. + +“Mind? Why, I’m a shareholder!” chuckled Carrados. + +“This suits me very well,” remarked the ex-schoolmaster when they were +seated in a remote corner of a seething general room. “Fellows used to +do their best to get me into the way of going to swell places, but I +always seem to drift back here. I don’t mind the prices, Carrados, but +hang me if I like to pay the prices simply to be inconvenienced. Yes, +_hot_ milk, please.” + +Carrados endorsed this reasonable philosophy. Carlton or Coffee-house, +the Ritz or the tea-shop, it was all the same to him--life, and very +enjoyable life at that. He sat and, like the spider, drew from within +himself the fabric of the universe by which he was surrounded. In that +inexhaustible faculty he found perfect content: he never required “to be +amused.” + +“No, not statistics,” he said presently, returning to the unfinished +conversation of the club hall. “Scarcely that. More in the nature of +topography, perhaps. Have you considered, Copling, how everything is +specialised nowadays? Does anyone read the old-fashioned, unpretentious +_Guide-book to London_ still? One would hardly think so to see how the +subject is cut up. We have ‘Famous London Blind-alleys,’ ‘Historical +West-Central Door-Knockers,’ ‘Footsteps of Dr Johnson between Gough +Square and John Street, Adelphi,’ ‘The Thames from Hungerford Bridge to +Charing Cross Pier,’ ‘Oxford Street Paving Stones on which De Quincey +sat,’ and so on.” + +“They are not familiar to me,” said Sir Fergus simply. + +“Nor to me; yet they sound familiar. Well, I touched journalism myself +once, years ago. What do you say to ‘Mysterious Double-fronted Houses of +the outer Northern Suburbs’? Too comprehensive?” + +“I don’t know. The subject must be limited. But do you seriously +contemplate such a work?” + +“If I did,” replied Carrados, “what could you tell me about Strathblane +Lodge, Highgate?” + +“Oh!” A slow smile broke on Copling’s face. “That is rather +extraordinary, isn’t it? Do you know old Spinola? Have you been there?” + +“So far I don’t know the venerable Mr Spinola and I have not been there. +What is the peculiarity?” + +“But you know of the automatic card-player?” + +The words brought a certain amount of enlightenment. Carrados had heard +more than once casual allusions to a wonderful mechanical contrivance +that played cards with discrimination. He had not thought anything more +of it, classing it with Kempelen’s famous imposture which had for a time +mystified and duped the chess world more than a century ago. So far, +also, some reticence appeared to be observed about the modern +contrivance, as though its inventor had no desire to have it turned into +a popular show: at all events not a word about it had appeared in the +Press. + +“I have heard something, but not much, and I certainly have not seen it. +What is it--a fraud, surely?” + +Copling replied with measured consideration between the process of +investigating his lightly boiled egg. It was plain that the automaton +had impressed him. + +“I naturally approached the subject with scepticism,” he admitted, “but +at the end of several demonstrations I am converted to a position of +passive acquiescence. Spinola, at all events, is no charlatan. His +knowledge of mathematics is profound. As you know, Carrados, the subject +is my own and I am not likely to be imposed on in that particular. It +was purely the scientific aspect of the invention that attracted me, for +I am not a gambler in the ordinary sense. Spinola’s explanation of the +principles of the contrivance, when he found that I was capable of +following them, was lucid and convincing. Of course he does not disclose +all the details of the mechanism, but he shows enough.” + +“It is a gamble, then, not a mere demonstration?” + +“He has spent many years on the automaton, and it must have cost +thousands of pounds in experiment and construction. He makes no secret +of hoping to reimburse his outlay.” + +“What do you play?” + +“Piquet--rubicon piquet. The figure could, he claims, be set to play any +game by changing or elaborating the mechanism. He had to construct it +for one definite set of chances and he selected piquet as a suitable +medium.” + +“It wins?” + +“Against me invariably in the end.” + +“Why should it win, Copling? In a game that is nine-tenths chance, why +should it win?” + +“I am an indifferent player. If the tactics of the game have been +reduced to machinery and the combinations are controlled by a +dispassionate automaton, the one-tenth would constitute a winning +factor.” + +“And against expert players?” + +Sir Fergus admitted that to the best of his knowledge the figure still +had the advantage. In answer to Carrados’s further inquiry he estimated +his losses at two or three hundred pounds. The stakes were whatever the +visitor suggested--Spinola was something of a grandee, one inferred--and +at half-crown points Sir Fergus had found the game quite expensive +enough. + +“Why do people go if they invariably lose?” asked the blind man. + +“My dear fellow, why do they go to Monte Carlo?” was the retort, +accompanied by a tolerant shrug. “Besides, I don’t positively say that +they always lose. One hears of people winning, though I have never seen +it happen. Then I fancy that the novelty has taken with a certain set. +It is a thing at the moment to go up there and have the rather bizarre +experience. There is an element of the creep in it, you know--sitting +and playing against that serene and unimpressionable contrivance.” + +“What do the others do? There is quite a company, I gather.” + +“Oh yes, sometimes. Occasionally one may find oneself alone. Well, the +others often watch the play. Sometimes sets play bridge on their own. +Then there is coffee and wine. Nothing formal, I assure you.” + +“Rowdy ever?” + +“Oh no. The old man has a presence; I doubt if anyone would feel +encouraged to go too far under Spinola’s eye. Yet practically nothing +seems to be known of him, not even his nationality. I have heard +half-a-dozen different tales from as many cocksure men--he is a South +American Spaniard ruined by a revolution; a Jesuit expelled from France +through politics; an Irishman of good family settled in Warsaw, where he +stole the plans from a broken-down Polish inventor; a Virginia military +man, supposed to have a dash of the negroid, who suddenly found that he +was dying from cancer and is doing this to provide a fortune for an only +and beautiful daughter, and so on.” + +“Is there a beautiful daughter?” + +“Not that I have ever seen. No, the man just cropped up, as odd people +do in great capitals. Nobody really knows anything about him, but his +queer salon has caught on to a certain extent.” + +Now any novel phase of life attracted Carrados. The mixed company that +Spinola’s enterprise was able to draw to an out-of-the-way suburb--the +peculiar blend of science and society--was not much in itself. The +various constituents could be met elsewhere to more advantage, but the +assemblage might engender piquancy. And the man himself and his machine? +In any case they should repay attention. + +“How does one procure the entrée?” he inquired. + +Copling raised a quizzical eyebrow. + +“You also?” he replied. “Oh, I see; you think----Well, if you are going +to discover any sleight-of-hand about the business I don’t mind----” + +“Yes?” prompted Carrados, for Sir Fergus had pulled up on an obvious +afterthought. + +“I did not intend going up again,” said Copling slowly. “As a matter of +fact, I have seen all that interests me. And--I suppose I may as well +tell you, Carrados--I made someone a sort of promise to have nothing to +do with gambling. She feels very strongly on the subject.” + +“She is very wise,” commented the blind man. + +Elation mingled with something faintly apologetic in the abrupt bestowal +of the baronet’s unexpected confidence. + +“It was really quite a sudden and romantic happening,” he continued, led +on by the imperceptible encouragement of his companion’s attitude. “She +is called Mercia. She does not know who I am--not that that’s anything,” +he added modestly. “She is an orphan and earns her own living. I was +able to be of some slight service to her in the science galleries at +South Kensington, where she was collecting material for her employer. +Then we met there again and had lunch together, and so on.” + +“At tea-shops?” + +“Oh yes. Her tastes are very simple. She doesn’t like shows and society +and all that.” + +“I congratulate you. When is it to be?” + +“It? Oh! Well, we haven’t settled anything like that yet. Of course this +is all in confidence, Carrados.” + +“Absolutely--though the lady has done me rather an ill turn.” + +“How?” + +“Well, weren’t you going to introduce me to Mr Spinola?” + +“True,” assented Sir Fergus. “And I don’t see why I shouldn’t,” he added +valiantly. “I need not play, and if there is any bunkum about the thing +I should certainly like to see how it is done. What evening will suit +you?” + +An early date had suited both, and shortly after eight o’clock--an hour +at which they were likely to find few guests before them--Carrados’s car +drew up at Strathblane Lodge. By arrangement he had picked up Copling, +who lived--“of all places in the world,” as people had said when they +heard of it--in an unknown street near Euston. Parkinson, out of regard +for the worthy man’s feelings, had been left behind on the occasion and +in ignorance of his master’s destination. + +The appearance of the place was certainly not calculated to reassure a +nervous investor. The entirely neglected garden seemed to convey a hint +that the tenant might be contemplating a short occupation and a hasty +flight. Nor did the exterior of the house do much to remove the +unfortunate impression. Only a philosopher or an habitual defaulter +would live in such a state. + +The venerable Mr Spinola received them in the salon set apart for the +display of the automaton and for cards in general. It was a room of fair +proportions--doubtless the largest in the house--and quite passably +furnished, though in a rather odd and incongruous style. But probably +any furniture on earth would have seemed incongruous to the strange, +idol-like presence which the inventor had thought fit to adapt to the +uses of his mechanism. The figure was placed on a low pedestal, +sufficiently raised from the carpet on four plain wooden legs for all +the space underneath to be clearly visible. The body was a squat, +cross-legged conception, typical of an Indian deity, the head singularly +life-like through the heavy gilding with which the face was covered, and +behind the merely contemplative expression that dominated the golden +mask the carver had by chance or intention lined a faint suggestion of +cynical contempt. + +“You have come to see my little figure--Aurelius, as we call him among +ourselves?” said the bland old gentleman benignly. “That is right; that +is right.” He shook hands with them both, and received Mr Carrados, on +Sir Fergus’s introduction, as though he was a very dear friend from whom +he had long been parted. It was difficult indeed for Max to disengage +himself from the effusive Spinola’s affection without a wrench. + +“Mr Carrados happens to be blind, Mr Spinola,” interposed Copling, +seeing that their host was so far in ignorance of the fact. + +“Impossible! Impossible!” exclaimed Spinola, riveting his own very +bright eyes on his guest’s insentient ones. “Yet,” he added, “one would +not jest----” + +“It is quite true,” was the matter-of-fact corroboration. “My hands must +be my eyes, Mr Spinola. In place of seeing, will you permit me to touch +your wonderful creation?” + +The old man’s assent was immediate and cordial. They moved across the +room towards the figure, the inventor modestly protesting: + +“You flatter me, my dear sir. After all, it is but a toy in large; +nothing but a toy.” + +A weary-looking youth, the only other occupant of the room, threw down +the illustrated weekly that he had picked up on the new arrivals’ +entrance and detained Copling. + +“Yes, I had been toying a little before you arrived,” he remarked +flippantly. “I came early to cut Dora Lascelle off from the idle crowd +and the silly little rabbit isn’t coming, it appears. I didn’t want to +play, because, for a fact, I have no money, but the old thing bored me +to hysterics. Good God! how he can talk so little on anything really +entertaining, like _The Giddy Flappers_ or Trixie Fluff’s divorce, and +so much about strange, unearthly things that no other living creature +has ever seen even in a dream, baffles my imagination. What’s an +‘integral calculus,’ Copling? No, don’t tell me, after all. Let me +forget the benumbing episode as soon as possible.” + +“Do you wish for a game, Sir Fergus?” broke in Spinola’s soft voice from +across the room. “Doubtless Mr Carrados might like to follow someone +else’s play before he makes the experiment.” + +Copling hesitated. He had not come to play, as he had already told his +friend, but Max gave no sign of coming to his assistance. + +“Perhaps you, Crediton?” said the mathematician; but young Crediton +shook his head and smiled wisely: Copling was too easy-going to stand +out. He crossed the room and sat down at the automaton’s table. + +“And the stake?” + +“Suppose we merely have a guinea on the game?” suggested the visitor. + +Spinola acquiesced with the air of one to whom a three-penny bit or a +kingdom would have been equally indifferent. The deal fell to Copling +and the automaton therefore had the first “elder hand,” with the +advantage of a discard of five cards against its opponent’s three. + +Carrados had already been shown the theory of the contrivance. He now +followed Spinola’s operations as the game proceeded. The old man picked +up the twelve cards dealt to the automaton and carefully arranged them +in their proper places on a square shield that was connected with the +front of the figure. As each fell into its slot it registered its +presence on the delicate mechanism that the figure contained. + +“The discard,” remarked Spinola, and moved a small lever. The left hand +of the automaton was raised, came over the shield which hid its cards +from the opponent, touched one with an extended finger, and affixing it +by suction, lifted the selected card from the slot and dropped it face +downwards on the table. + +“A little slow, a little cumbersome,” apologised the inventor as the +motions were repeated until five cards had been thrown out. “The left +hand is used for the discard alone, as a different movement is +necessary.” He picked up the five new cards from the stock and arranged +them as he had done the hand. “Now we proceed to the play.” + +Crediton strolled across to watch the game. He stood behind Copling, +while Carrados remained near the automaton. Spinola opened the +movements. + +“Aurelius has no voice, of course,” he said, studying the display of +cards, “so I--point of five.” + +“Good,” conceded the opponent. + +Spinola registered the detail on one of an elaborate set of dials that +produced a further development in the machinery. + +“Spades,” he announced, declaring the suit that he had won the “point” +on. “Tierce major.” + +“Quart to the queen--hearts,” claimed Copling, and Spinola moved another +dial to register the opponent’s advantage. + +“Three kings.” + +“Good,” was the reply. + +“Three tens,” added the senior player, as his three kings, being good +against the other hand, enabled him to count the lower trio also. “Five +for the point and two trios--eleven.” Every detail of the scoring and of +the ensuing play was registered as the other things had been. + +This finished the preliminaries and the play of the hands began. The +automaton, in response to the release of the machinery, moved its right +arm with the same deliberation that had marked its former action and +laid a card face upwards on the table. For the blind man’s benefit each +card was named as it was played. At the end of the hand Copling had won +“the cards”--a matter of ten extra points--with seven tricks to five and +the score stood to his advantage at 27--17. + +“Not bad for the junior hand,” commented Crediton. “Do you know”--he +addressed the inventor--“there is a sort of ‘average,’ as they call it, +that you are supposed to play up to? I forget how it goes, but 27 is +jolly high for the minor hand, I know.” + +“I have heard of it,” replied Spinola politely. Crediton could not make +out why the other two men smiled broadly. + +The succeeding hands developed no particular points of interest. The +scoring ruled low and in the end Copling won by 129 to 87. Spinola +purred congratulation. + +“I am always delighted to see Aurelius lose,” he declared, paying out +his guinea with a princely air. + +“Why?” demanded Crediton. + +“Because it shows that I have succeeded beyond expectation, my dear +young sir: I have made him almost human. Now, Mr Carrados----” + +“With pleasure,” assented the blind man. “Though I am afraid that I +shall not afford you the delight of losing, Mr Spinola.” + +“One never knows, one never knows,” beamed the old man. “Shall we +say----” + +“Half-crown points--for variety?” + +“Very good. Ah, our deal.” He dealt the hands and proceeded to dispose +the twelve that fell to the automaton on the shield. There was a moment +of indecision. “Pray, Mr Carrados, do you not arrange your cards?” + +“I have done so.” He had, in fact, merely spread out his hand in the +usual fan formation and run an identifying finger once round the upper +edges. The cards remained as they had been dealt, face downwards. + +“Wonderful! And that enables you to distinguish them?” + +“The ink and the impression on a plain surface--oh yes.” He threw out +the full discard as he spoke and took in the upper five of the stock. + +“You overwhelm us; you accentuate the tiresome deliberation of poor +Aurelius.” Spinola was hovering about the external fittings of the +figure with unusual fussiness. When at length he released the left hand +it seemed for an almost perceptible moment that the action hung. Then +the arm descended and carried out the discard. + +“Point of five,” said Carrados. + +“Good.” + +“In spades. Quint major in spades also, tierce to the knave in clubs, +fourteen aces”--_i.e._ four aces; “fourteen” in the language of piquet +as they score that number. He did not wait for his opponent to assent to +each count, knowing, after the point had passed, that the other calls +were good against anything that could possibly be held. “Five, twenty, +twenty-three, ninety-seven.” Having reached thirty before his opponent +scored, and without a card having so far been played, his score +automatically advanced by sixty. That is the “repique.” + +“By Jove!” exclaimed Crediton, “that’s the first time I’ve ever known +Aurelius repiqued.” + +“Oh, it has happened,” retorted Spinola almost testily. + +The play of the hand was bound to go in Carrados’s favour--he held eight +certain tricks. He won “the cards” with two tricks to spare and the +round closed at 119--5. + +“You look like being delighted again, Mr Spinola,” remarked Crediton a +little cruelly. + +“Suppose you make yourself useful by dealing for me,” interposed +Carrados. “Of course,” he reminded his host, “it does not do for me to +handle any cards but my own.” + +“I had not thought of that,” replied Spinola, looking at him shrewdly. +“If you had no conscience you would be a dangerous opponent, Mr +Carrados.” + +“The same might be said of any man,” was the reply. “That is why it is +so satisfactory to play an automaton.” + +“Oh, Aurelius has no conscience, you know,” chimed in Crediton +sapiently. “Mr Spinola couldn’t find room for it among the wheels.” + +The second hand was not eventful. Each player had to be content to make +about the “average” which Crediton had ingenuously discovered. It raised +the scores to 33--130. Two hands followed in the same prudent spirit; +the fifth--Carrados’s “elder”--found the position 169--67. + +“Only two this time,” remarked Carrados, taking in. + +“Jupiter!” murmured Crediton. It is unusual for the senior hand to leave +even one of the five cards to which he is entitled. It indicated an +unusually strong hand. The automaton evidently thought so too. It +availed itself of all the six alternative cards and, as the play +disclosed, completely cut up its own hand to save the repique by beating +Carrados on the point. It won the point, to find that its opponent only +held a low quart, a tierce and three kings. As a result Carrados won +“the cards” and the score stood 199--79. The discard was, in fact, an +experiment in bluff. Carrados _might_ have held a quint and fourteen +kings for all the opposing hand disclosed. + +“What on earth did you do that for?” demanded Copling. He himself always +played an eminently straightforward game--and generally lost. + +“I’ll bet I know,” put in Crediton. “You are getting rather close, Mr +Spinola--the last hand and you need twenty-one to save the rubicon.” The +“rubicon” means that instead of the loser’s score being deducted from +the winner’s in arriving at the latter’s total, it is _added_ to it--a +possible difference of nearly 200 points. + +“We shall see; we shall see,” muttered Spinola with a little less than +his usual suavity. + +Whatever concern he had, however, was groundless, for the game ended +tamely enough. Carrados ought to have won the point and divided tricks, +leaving his opponent a minor quart and a solitary trio--about 15 on the +hand. By a careless discard he threw away both chances and the final +score stood at 205--112. Copling, who had come to regard his friend’s +play as rather excellent, was silent. Crediton almost shrieked his +disapproval and seizing the cards demonstrated to his heart’s content. + +“Ninety-three and the hundred for the game--twenty-four pounds and one +half-crown,” said the loser, counting out notes and coin to the amount. +“It has been an experience for both of us--Aurelius and myself.” + +“And certainly for me,” added Carrados. + +“Look here,” interposed Crediton, “Aurelius seems off his play. If you +don’t mind taking my paper, Mr Spinola, I should like another go.” + +“As you please,” assented the old man. “Your undertaking is, of +course----” The gesture suggested “quite equal to that of the cashier of +the Bank of England.” The venerable person had, in fact, regained his +lofty pecuniary indifference. “The same point?” + +“Right-o,” cheerfully assented the youth. + +“I will go and think over my shortcomings,” said Carrados. + +He started to cross the room to a seat and ran into a couch. With a gasp +Copling hastened to his assistance. Then he found his arm detained and +heard the whisper. + +“Sit down with me.” + +Across the room the play had begun again and with a little care they +could converse without the possibility of a word being overheard. + +“What is it?” asked Sir Fergus. + +“The golden one will win. It is only when the cards are not exposed that +you play on equal terms.” + +“But I won?” + +“Because it is well to lose sometimes and, by choice, when the stake is +low. That witless youth will have to pay for both of us.” + +“But how--how on earth do you suggest that it is done?” + +“Look round cautiously. What eyes overlook Crediton’s hand as he sits +there?” + +“What eyes? Good gracious! is there anything in that?” + +“What is it?” + +“There is a trophy of Japanese arms high up on the wall. An iron mask +surmounts it. It has glass eyes. I have never seen anything like that +before.” + +“Any others round the walls?” + +“There is a stuffed tiger’s head on our right and a puma’s or something +of that sort on the left.” + +“In case a suspicious player asks to have the places changed or holds +his cards awkwardly. Working the automaton from other positions is +probably also arranged for.” + +“But how can a knowledge of the opponent’s cards affect the automaton? +The dials----” + +“The dials are all bunkum. While you were playing I took the liberty of +altering them and for a whole hand the dials indicated that you must +inevitably be holding eight clubs and four spades. All the time you were +leading out hearts and diamonds and the automaton serenely followed +suit. The only effective machinery is that indicating the display of +cards on the shield and controlling the hands, and that is worked by a +keyboard and electric current from the room below. The watcher behind +the mask telephones the opposing hand, the discard and the take-in. The +automaton’s hand has already been indicated below. You see the enormous +advantage the hidden player has? When he is the minor hand he knows +everything that is to be known before he discards. When he is the elder +he knows almost everything. By concentrating on one detail he can +practically always balk the pique, the repique and the kapot, if it is +necessary to play for safety. You remember what Crediton said--that he +had never known Aurelius repiqued before. The leisurely manipulation of +the dials gives plenty of time. An even ordinary player in that position +can do the rest.” + +Copling scarcely knew whether to believe or not. It sounded plausible, +but it reflected monstrously. + +“You speak of a telephone,” he said. “How can you definitely say that +such a thing is being used? You have never been in the room before and +we’ve scarcely been here an hour. It--it may be awfully serious, you +know.” + +Carrados smiled. + +“Can you hear the kitchen door being opened at this moment or detect the +exact aroma of our host’s mocha?” he demanded. + +“Not in the least,” admitted Copling. + +“Then of course it is hopeless to expect you to pick up the whisper of a +man behind a mask a score of feet away. How fearfully in the dark you +seeing folk must be!” + +“Can you possibly do that?” Even as he was speaking the door opened and +a servant entered, bringing coffee and an assortment of viands +sufficiently exotic to maintain the rather Oriental nature of +entertainment. + +“Stroll across and see how the game is going,” suggested Carrados. “Have +a look at Crediton’s discard and then come back.” + +Sir Fergus did not quite follow the purpose, but he nodded and proceeded +to comply with his usual amiable spirit. + +“It stands at 137 to 75 against Crediton and they are playing the last +hand. Our young friend looks like losing thirty or forty pounds.” + +“And his discard?” + +“Oh--seven and nine of clubs and the knave of hearts.” + +Carrados held out a slip of paper on which he had already pencilled a +few words. The baronet took it, looked and whistled softly. He had read: +“Clubs, seven, nine. Hearts, knave.” + +“Conjuring?” he interrogated. + +“Quite as simple--listening.” + +“I suppose I must accept it. What staggers me is that you can pick out a +whisper when the room is full of other louder sounds. Now if there had +been absolute stillness----” + +“Merely use. There’s nothing more in it than in seeing a mouse and a +mountain, or a candle and the sun, at the same time. Well, what are we +going to do about it?” + +Copling began to look acutely unhappy. + +“I suppose we must do something,” he ruminated, “but I must say that I +wish we needn’t. I mean, I wish we hadn’t dropped on this. You know, +Carrados, whatever is going on, Spinola is no charlatan. He does +understand mathematics.” + +“That makes him all the more dangerous. But I should like to produce +more definite proof before we do anything.... Does he ever leave us in +the room?” + +“I have never known it. No, he hovers round his Aurelius.” + +“Never mind. Ah, the game is finished.” + +The game was finished and it needed no inquiry to learn how it had gone. +Mr Crediton was handing the venerable Spinola a memorandum of +indebtedness. His words and attitude did not convey the impression of a +graceful loser. + +“I wish you two men would give me the tip for beating this purgatorial +image,” he grumbled as they came up. “I thought that he’d struck a +losing line after your experience and this is the result.” He indicated +the spectacle of their amiable host folding up his I.O.U. preparatory to +dropping it carelessly into a letter-rack, and shrugged his shoulders +with keen disgust. + +“I’ll tell you if you like,” suggested Sir Fergus. “Hold the better +cards.” + +“And play them better,” added Carrados. “Good heavens!” + +A very untoward thing had happened. They had all been standing together +round the table, Spinola purring appreciatively, Crediton fuming his +ill-restrained annoyance, and the other two mildly satirical at his +expense. Carrados held a cup of coffee in his hand. He reached towards +the table with it, seemed to imagine that he was a full foot nearer than +he was, and before anyone had divined his mistake, cup, saucer and the +entire contents had dropped neatly upon Mr Spinola’s startled feet, +saturating his lower extremities to the skin. + +“Good heavens! What on earth have I done?” + +Crediton shrieked out his ill-humour in gratified amusement; Sir Fergus +reddened deeply with embarrassment at his friend’s mishap. Victim and +culprit stood the ordeal best. + +“My unfortunate defect!” murmured Carrados with feeling. “How ever can +I----” + +“I who have eyes ought to have looked after my guest better,” replied +Spinola with antique courtliness. He reduced Crediton with a glance of +quiet dignity and declined Carrados’s handkerchief with a reassuring +touch on the blind man’s arm. “No, no, my dear sir, if you will excuse +me for a few minutes. It is really nothing, really nothing, I do assure +you.” + +He withdrew from the room to change. Copling began to prepare a +reassuring phrase to meet Carrados’s self-reproaches when they should +break forth again. But the blind man’s tone had altered; he was no +longer apologetic. + +“Play them better,” he repeated to Crediton, as if there had been no +interruption, “and play under conditions that are equal. For instance, +it might be worth while making sure that a Japanese mask does not +conceal a pair of human eyes. If I were a loser I should be inclined to +have a look.” + +Not until then did it occur to Sir Fergus that his friend’s clumsiness +had been a calculated ruse to force Spinola to withdraw for a few +minutes. Later on he might be able to admire the simple ingenuity of the +trick, but at that moment he almost hated Carrados for the cool +effrontery with which he had duped all their feelings. + +No such subtleties, however, concerned Crediton. He stared at the blind +man, followed the indication of his gesture and all at once grasped the +significance of the hint. + +“By George, I shouldn’t wonder if you aren’t right!” he exclaimed. +“There are one or two things----” Without further consideration he +rushed a table against the wall, swung up a chair on to it, and mounting +the structure began to wrench the details of the trophy from side to +side and up and down in his excited efforts to displace them. + +“Hurry up,” urged Copling, more nervous than excited. “He won’t be +long.” + +“Hurry up?” Crediton paused, panting from his furious efforts, and found +time to look down upon his accomplices. “I don’t think that it’s for us +to concern ourselves, by George!” he retorted. “Spinola had better hurry +up and bolt for it, I should say. There’s light behind here--a hole +through the wall. I believe the place is a regular swindling hell.” + +His eyes went to the group of weapons again and the sight gave him a new +idea. + +“Aha, what price this?” he cried, and pulling a short sword out of its +sheath he drove it in between mask and wall and levered the shell away, +nails and all. “By God, if the eyes aren’t a pair of opera-glasses! And +there’s a regular paraphernalia here----” + +“So,” interrupted a quiet voice behind them, “you have been too clever +for an old man, Mr Carrados?” + +Spinola had returned unheard and was regarding the work of detection +with the utmost benignness. Copling looked and felt ridiculously guilty; +the blind man betrayed no emotion at all and both were momentarily +silent. It fell to Crediton to voice retort. + +“My I.O.U., if you don’t mind, Mr Spinola,” he demanded, tumbling down +from his perch and holding out an insistent hand. + +“With great pleasure,” replied Spinola, picking it out from the contents +of the letter-rack. “Also,” he continued, referring to the contents of +his pocket-book, while his guest tore up the memorandum into very small +pieces and strewed them about the carpet, “also the sum of fifty-seven +pounds, thirteen shillings which I feel myself compelled to return to +you in spite of your invariable grace in losing. I have already rung; +you will find the front door waiting open for you, Mr Crediton.” + +“‘Compelled’ is good,” sneered Crediton. “You will probably find a train +waiting for you at Charing Cross, Mr Spinola. I advise you to catch it +before the police arrive.” He nodded to the other two men and departed, +to spread the astounding news in the most interested quarters. + +Spinola continued to beam irrepressible benevolence. + +“You are equally censorious, if more polite than Mr Crediton in +expressing it, eh, my dear young friends?” he said. + +“I thought that you were a genuine mathematician--I vouched for it,” +replied Sir Fergus with more regret than anything else. “And the extent +of your achievement has been to contrive a vulgar imposture--in the +guise of an ingenious inventor to swindle society by a sham automaton +that doesn’t even work.” + +“You thought that--you still think that?” + +“What else is there to think? We have seen with our own eyes.” + +“And”--turning to his other guest--“Mr Carrados, who does not see?” + +“I am waiting to hear,” replied the blind man. + +“But you, Sir Fergus, you who are also--in an elementary way--a +mathematician, and one with whom I have conversed freely, you regard me +as a common swindler and think that this--this tawdry piece of +buffoonery that is only designed to appeal to the vapid craze for +novelty of your foolish friends--this is, as you say, the extent of my +achievement?” + +Copling gave a warning cry and sprang forward, but it was too late to +avert what he saw coming. In his petulant annoyance at the comparison +Spinola had laid an emphasising hand upon Aurelius and half +unconsciously had given the figure a contemptuous push. It swayed, +seemed to poise for a second, and then toppling irretrievably forward +crashed to the floor with an impact that snapped the golden head from +off its shoulders and shook the room and the very house itself. + +“There, there,” muttered the old man, as though he was doing no more +than regretting a broken tea-cup; “let it lie, let it lie. We have +finished our work together, Aurelius and I. Now let the whole world----” + +It would have been too much to expect the remainder of the mysterious +household, whoever its members were, to ignore the tempestuous course of +events taking place within their midst. The door was opened suddenly and +a young lady, with consternation charged on every feature of her +attractive face, burst into the room. For the moment her eyes took in +only two figures of the curious group--the aged Spinola and his fallen +handiwork. + +“Granda!” she cried, “whatever’s happened? What is it all? Oh, are you +hurt?” + +“It is nothing, nothing at all; a mere contretemps of no importance,” he +reassured her quickly. Then, with a recurrence of his most grandiloquent +manner, he recalled her to the situation. “Mercia, our guests--Sir +Fergus Copling, Mr Carrados. Sir Fergus, Mr Carrados--Miss Dugard.” + +“Then it _is_ Mercia!” articulated the bewildered baronet. “Mercia, you +here! What does it mean? What are you doing?” + +“What are you doing, Sir Fergus?” retorted the girl in cold reproach. +“Is this the way you generally keep your promises? Gambling!” + +“Well, really,” stammered the abashed gentleman, “I--I only----” + +“Sir Fergus only played a game for a mere nominal stake, to demonstrate +the working to his friend,” interposed Spinola with a shrewd glance--a +curious blend of serpentine innocence and dove-like cunning--at the +estranged young people. + +“And won,” added Sir Fergus _sotto voce_, as if that fact condoned his +offence. + +“Won indeed!” flashed out Miss Dugard. “Of course you won--I let you. Do +you think that we wished to take money from you now?” + +“You--_you_ let me!” muttered Sir Fergus helplessly. “Good heavens!” + +“I am grateful that your consideration also extends to your friend’s +friend,” put in Carrados pleasantly. + +Miss Dugard smiled darkly at the suavely-given thrust and showed her +pretty little teeth almost as though she would like to use them. + +“There, there, that will do, my child,” said the old man indulgently. +“Sir Fergus and Mr Carrados are entitled to an explanation and they +shall have it. The moment is opportune; the work of a lifetime is +complete. You have seen, Sir Fergus, the sums that Aurelius--assisted, +as we will now admit, by a little external manipulation--has gathered +into our domestic exchequer. Where have they gone, these hundreds and +thousands that you may estimate? In lavish living and a costly +establishment? Observe this very ordinary apartment--the best the house +possesses. Recall the grounds through which you entered. Sum up the +simple hospitality of which you have partaken. In expensive personal +tastes and habits? I assure you, Sir Fergus, that I am a man of the most +frugal life; my granddaughter inherits the propensity. In what, then? In +advancing science, in benefitting humanity, in furthering human +progress. I am going to prove to you that I have perfected one of the +greatest mechanical inventions of all ages, and I ask you to credit the +plain statement that all my private fortune and all the winnings that +you have seen upon this table--with the exception of a bare margin for +the necessities of life--have been spent in perfecting it.” + +He paused with a senile air of triumph and seemed to challenge comment. + +“But surely,” ventured Copling, “surely on the strength of this you +would have had no difficulty in obtaining direct financial support. +Well, I myself----” + +Spinola smiled a peculiar smile, shaking his head sagely. + +“Take care, my generous young friend, take care. You may not quite +comprehend what you are saying.” + +“Why?” + +Still swayed by his own gentle amusement, the old man crossed the room +to a desk, selected a letter from a bulky pile and handed it to his +guest without a word. + +Copling glanced at the heading and signature, then read the contents and +frowned annoyance. + +“This is from my secretary,” he commented lamely. + +“That is what a secretary is for, is it not--to save his employer +trouble?” insinuated Spinola. “He took me for a crank or a +begging-letter impostor, of course.” Then came the pathetic whisper. +“They _all_ took me for that.” + +Sir Fergus folded the letter and handed it back again. + +“I am very sorry,” he said simply. + +“It was natural, perhaps. Still, something had to be done. My work was +all arrested. I could no longer pay my two skilled mechanics. Time was +pressing. I am a very old man--I am more than a hundred years old----” + +The girl shot a sudden, half-frightened, pleading glance at her lover, +then at Mr Carrados. It checked the exclamation that would have come +from Copling; the blind man passed the monstrous claim without betraying +astonishment. + +“--a very old man and my work was yet incomplete. So I contrived +Aurelius. I could, of course, have perfected a model that would have +done all that has been claimed for this--mere child’s play to me--but +what would have been the good? Such a mechanical player would have lost +as often as he would have won. Hence our little subterfuge, a means +amply justified by so glorious an end.” + +He was smiling happily--the weeks of elaborate deception were, at the +worst, an innocent ruse to him--and concluded with an emphasising nod to +each in turn, to Mercia, who regarded him with implicit faith and +veneration, to Copling, who at that moment surely had ample +justification for declaring to himself that he was dashed if he knew +what to think, and to Carrados, whose sightless look agreed to +everything and gave nothing in reply. Then the old man stood up and +produced his keys. + +“Come, my friends,” he continued; “the moment has arrived. I am going to +show you now what no other eye has yet been privileged to see. My +mechanics worked on the parts under my instruction, but in ignorance of +the end. Even Mercia--a good girl, a very clever girl--has never yet +passed this door.” He had led them through the house and brought them to +a brick-built, windowless shed, isolated in the garden at the back. “I +little thought that the first demonstration----But things have fallen +so, things have fallen, and one never knows. Perhaps it is for the +best.” An iron door had yielded to his patent key. He entered, turned on +a bunch of electric lights and stood aside. “Behold!” + +The room was a workshop, fitted with the highly finished devices of +metal-working and littered with the scraps and débris of their use. In +the middle stood a more elaborate contrivance--the finished product of +brass and steel--a cube scarcely larger than a packing-case, but +seemingly filled with wheels and rods, relay upon relay, and row after +row, all giving the impression of exquisite precision in workmanship and +astonishing intricacy of detail. + +“Why, it’s a calculating machine,” exclaimed Sir Fergus, going forward +with immense interest. + +“It is an analytical engine, or, to use the more common term, a +calculating machine, as you say,” assented the inventor. “I need hardly +remind you, of course, that one does not spend a lifetime and a fortune +in contriving a machine to do single calculations, however involved, but +for the more useful and practical purpose of working out involved series +with absolute precision. Still, for the purpose of a trial demonstration +we will begin with an ordinary proposition, if you, Sir Fergus, will +kindly set one. My engine now is constructed to work to fifty places of +figures and twelve orders of difference.” + +“If you have accomplished that,” remarked Copling, accepting the pencil +and the slip of paper offered him, “you have surpassed the dreams of +Babbage, Mr Spinola.” + +There was a sudden gasp from Mercia, but it passed unheeded in the keen +excitement of the great occasion. Spinola received the paper with its +row of signs and figures and turned to operate his engine. He paused to +look back gleefully. + +“So you never guessed, Sir Fergus?” he chuckled cunningly. “We kept the +secret well, but it doesn’t matter now. _I am Charles Babbage!_” + +The noise of wheel and connecting-rod cut off the chance of a reply, +even if anyone had been prepared to make one. But no one, in that +bewildering moment, was. + +“The solution,” announced Spinola with a flourish, and he passed a +little slip of metal stamped with a row of figures into Sir Fergus’s +hand. Then, with a curious indifference to their verdict, he turned away +from the group and applied himself to the machine again. + +“What is it? Is it not correct?” demanded Mercia in an agonised whisper. +She had not looked at the solution, but at her lover’s face, and her +hand suddenly gripped his arm. + +“It is incomprehensible,” replied Sir Fergus, dropping his voice so that +the old man could not overhear. “It isn’t a matter of right or wrong--it +is a mere farrago of nonsense.” + +“But harmless nonsense--quite harmless,” interposed Carrados softly from +behind them. “Come, we can safely leave him here; you will always be +able to leave him safely here. Help Miss Dugard out, Copling. It is +better, believe me, to leave him now.” + +Spinola did not turn. He was bending over the machine to which he had +given life, brain and fortune, touching its wheels and sliding rods with +loving fingers. They passed silently from his presence and crept back to +the deserted salon, where the deposed head of Aurelius leered cynically +at them from the floor. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + VIII + + The Kingsmouth Spy Case + + +“Not guilty, my lord!” There was a general laugh in the lounge of the +Rose and Plumes, the comfortable old Cliffhurst hotel that upheld the +ancient traditions unaffected by the flaunting rivalry of Grand or +Metropole. The jest hidden in the retort was a small one, but it was at +the expense of a pompous, pretentious bore, and the speaker was a +congenial wag who had contrived in the course of a few weeks to win a +facile popularity on all sides. + +Across the room one of the later arrivals--“the blind gentleman,” as he +was sympathetically alluded to, for few had occasion to learn his +name--turned slightly towards the direction of the voice and added a +pleasantly appreciative smile to the common tribute. Then his attention +again settled on the writing-table at which he sat, and for the next few +minutes his pencil travelled smoothly, with an occasional pause for +consideration, over the block of telegraphic forms that he had picked +out. At the end of ten minutes he rang for a waiter and directed that +his own man should be sent to him. + +“Here are three telegrams to go off, Parkinson,” he said in the suave, +agreeable voice that scarcely ever varied, no matter what the occasion +might be. “You will take them yourself at once. After that I shall not +require you again to-night.” + +The attendant thanked him and withdrew. The blind man closed his +letter-case, retired from the writing-table to the obscurity of a +sequestered corner and sat unnoticed with his sightless eyes, that +always seemed to be quietly smiling, looking placidly into illimitable +space as he visualised the scene before him, and the laughter, the +conversation and the occasional whisper went on unchecked around. + + * * * * * + +Max Carrados had journeyed down to Cliffhurst a few days previously, +good-naturedly, but without any enthusiasm. Indeed it had needed all Mr +Carlyle’s persuasive eloquence to move him. + +“The Home Office, Max,” urged the inquiry agent, “one of the premier +departments of the State! Consider the distinction! Surely you will not +refuse a commission of that nature direct from the Government?” +Carrados, looking a little deeper than a Melton overcoat and a glossy +silk hat, had once declared his friend to be the most incurably romantic +of idealists. He now took a malicious pleasure in reducing the situation +to its crudest terms. + +“Why can’t the local police arrest a solitary inoffensive German spy +themselves?” he inquired. + +“To tell the truth, Max, I believe that there are two or three fingers +in that pie at the present moment,” replied Mr Carlyle confidentially. +“It doesn’t concern the Home Office alone. And after that Guitry Bay +fiasco and the unmerciful chaffing that we got in the German +papers--with rather a nasty rap or two over the knuckles from the +_Kölnische Zeitung_--both Whitehall and Downing Street are in a blue +funk lest they should do the wrong thing, either let the man slip away +with the papers or arrest him without them.” + +“Contingencies with which I am sure you could grapple successfully, +Louis.” + +Mr Carlyle’s bland complacency did not suggest that he, at any rate, had +any doubt on that score. + +“But, you know, Max, I am pledged to carry through the Vandeeming affair +here in town. And--um--well, the Secretary did make a point of you being +the man they relied on.” + +“Oh! someone there must read the papers, Louis. But I wonder ... why +they did not communicate with me direct.” + +Mr Carlyle contrived to look extremely ingenuous. Even he occasionally +forgot that looks went for nothing with Carrados. + +“I imagine that they thought that a friendly intermediary--or something +of that sort.” + +“Possibly Inspector Beedel hinted to the Commissioner that you would +have more influence with me than a whole Government Department?” smiled +Carrados. “And so you have, Louis; so you have. If it’s your ambition to +get the Government on your books you can tell your clients that I’ll +take on their job!” + +“By Jupiter, Max, you are a good fellow if ever there was one!” +exclaimed Mr Carlyle with gentlemanly emotion. “But I owe too much to +you already.” + +“This won’t make it any more, then. I have another reason, quite +different, for going.” + +“Of course you have,” assented the visitor heartily. “You are not one to +talk about patriotism, and all that, but you can’t hoodwink me with your +dilettantish pose, Max, and I know that deep down in your nature there +is a passionate devotion to your country----” + +“Thank you, Louis,” interrupted Carrados. “It is very nice to learn +that. But I am really going to Kingsmouth because there’s a man there--a +curate--who has the second best private collection in Europe of +autonomous coins of Thessaly.” + +For a few seconds Mr Carlyle looked his unutterable feelings. When he +did speak it was with crushing deliberation. + +“‘Mrs Carrados,’ I shall say--if ever there is a Mrs Carrados, Max--‘Mrs +Carrados, two things are necessary for your domestic happiness. In the +first place, pack up your husband’s tetradrachms in a brown-paper parcel +and send them with your compliments to the British Museum. In the +second, at the earliest possible opportunity, exact from him an oath +that he will never touch another Greek coin as long as you both live.’” + +“If ever there is a Mrs Carrados,” was the quick retort, “I shall +probably be independent of the consolation of Greek coins as, also, +Louis, of the distraction of criminal investigation. In the meantime, +what are you going to tell me about this case?” + +Mr Carlyle at once became alert. He would have become absolutely +professional had not Carrados tactfully obtruded the cigar-box. The +digression, and the pleasant aroma that followed it, brought him back +again to the merely human. + +“It began, like a good many other cases, with an anonymous letter.” He +took a slip of paper from his pocket-book and handed it to Carrados. +“Here is a copy.” + +“A copy!” The blind man ran his finger lightly along the lines and read +aloud what he found there: + + + “A friend warns you that an attempt is being successfully made on + behalf of another Power to obtain naval information of vital + importance. You have a traitor within your gates.” + + +Then he crumpled up the paper and dropped it half-contemptuously into +the waste-paper basket. “A copy is no use to us, Louis,” he remarked. +“Indeed it is worse than useless; it is misleading.” + +“That is all they had here. The original was addressed to the +Admiral-Superintendent at the Kingsmouth Dockyard. This was sent up with +the report. But I am assured that the other contained no clue to the +writer’s identity.” + +“Not even a watermark, ‘Jones, stationer, High Street, Kingsmouth’!” +said Carrados dryly. “Really, Louis! Every piece of paper contains at +least four palpable clues.” + +“And what are they, pray?” + +“A smell, a taste, an appearance and a texture. This one, in addition, +bears ink, and with it all the characteristics of an individual +handwriting.” + +“In capitals, Max,” Mr Carlyle reminded him. “Our anonymous friend is up +to that.” + +“Yes; I wonder who first started that venerable illusion.” + +“Illusion?” + +“Certainly an illusion. Capitals, or ‘printed handwriting’ as one sees +them called, are just as idiomorphic as a cursive form.” + +“But much less available for comparison. How are you going to obtain a +specimen of anyone’s printed handwriting for comparison?” + +Carrados reflected silently for a moment. + +“I think I should ask anyone I suspected to do one for me,” he replied. + +Carlyle resisted the temptation to laugh outright, but mordacity lurked +in his voice. + +“And you imagine that the writer of this, who evidently has good reason +for anonymity, will be simple enough to comply?” + +“I think so; if I ask him nicely.” + +“Look here, Max, I will bet you a box of any cigars you care to +name----” + +“Yes, Louis?” + +Mr Carlyle had hesitated. He was recalling one or two things from the +past, and on those occasions his friend’s unemotional face had looked +just as devoid of guile as it did now. + +“No, Max, I won’t bet this time, but I should like to send across a +small box of Monterey Coronas for Parkinson to pack among your things. +Well, so much for the letter.” + +“Not quite all,” interposed Carrados. “I must have the original.” + +The visitor made a note in his pocket diary. + +“It shall be sent to you at once. I stipulated an absolutely free hand +for you. Oh, I took a tolerably high tone! I can assure you, Max. You +will find everything at Kingsmouth very pleasant, and there, of course, +you will learn all the details. Here they don’t seem to know very much. +I was not informed whether the Dockyard authorities had already had +their suspicions aroused or whether the letter was the first hint. At +all events they acted with tolerable promptness. The letter, you will +see, is undated, but it was delivered on the seventeenth--last Thursday. +On Friday they put their hands on a man in the construction +department--a fellow called Brown. He made no fight of it when he was +cornered, but although he owned up to the charge of betraying +information, there was one important link that he could not supply and +one that he would not. He could not tell them who the spy collecting the +information was, because there was an intermediary; and he would not +betray the intermediary on any terms. And, by gad! I for one can’t help +respecting the beggar for that remnant of loyalty.” + +“A woman?” suggested Carrados. + +“Even that, I believe, is not known, but very likely you have hit the +mark. A woman would explain the element of chivalry that prompts Brown’s +attitude. He is under open arrest now--nobody outside is supposed to +know, but of course he can’t buy an evening paper without it being +noted. They are in hope of something more definite turning up. At +present they have pitched their suspicions on a German visitor staying +at Cliffhurst.” + +“Why?” + +“I don’t know, Max. They must fix on someone, you know. It’s expected. +All the same they are deucedly nervous at this end about the outcome.” + +“Did they say what Brown had given away?” + +“Yes, egad! Do you know anything of the Croxton-Delahey torpedo?” + +“A little,” admitted Carrados. + +“What does it do?” asked Mr Carlyle, with the rather sublime air of +casual interest which he attached to any subject outside his own +knowledge. + +“It’s rather an ingenious contrivance. It is fired like any other +uncontrolled torpedo. At the end of a straight run--anything up to ten +thousand yards at 55 knots with the superheated system--the diabolical +creature stops and begins deliberately to slash a zigzag course over any +area you have set it for. If in its roving it comes within two hundred +feet of any considerable mass of iron it promptly makes for it, cuts its +way through torpedo netting if any bars its progress, explodes its three +hundredweight of gun-cotton and finishes its existence by firing a 24 +lb. thorite shell through the breach it has made.” + +“’Um,” mused Mr Carlyle, “I don’t like the weapon, Max, but I would +rather that we kept it to ourselves. Well, Mr Brown has given away the +plans.” + +Carrados disposed of the end of his cigar and crossed the room to his +open desk. From its appointed place he took a book inscribed +“Engagements,” touched a few pages and scribbled a line of comment here +and there. Then he turned to his guest again. + +“All right. I’ll go down to Kingsmouth by the 12.17 to-morrow morning,” +he said. “Now I want you to look up the following points for me and let +me have the particulars before I go.” + +Mr Carlyle again took out his pocket diary and beamed approvingly. + + * * * * * + +As a matter of fact the tenor of the replies he received influenced +Carrados to make some change in his plans. Accompanied by Parkinson he +left London by the appointed train on the next day, but instead of +proceeding to Kingsmouth he alighted at Cliffhurst, the pretty little +seaside resort some five miles east of the great dockport. After +securing rooms at the Rose and Plumes--an easy enough matter in +October--he directed his attendant to take him to a sheltered seat on +the winding paths below the promenade and there leave him for an hour. + +“Very nicely kept, these walks and shrubberies, sir,” remarked an +affable voice from the other end of the bench. A leisurely pedestrian +whose clothes and manner proclaimed him to be an aimless holiday-maker +had sauntered along and, after a moment’s hesitation, had sat down on +the same form. + +“Yes, Inspector,” replied Carrados genially. “Almost up to the standard +of our own Embankment Gardens, are they not?” + +Detective-Inspector Tapling, of New Scotland Yard, went rather red and +then laughed quietly. + +“I wasn’t quite sure at first if it was you, Mr Carrados,” he +apologised, moving nearer and lowering his voice. “I was to report to +you here, sir, and to give you any information and assistance you might +require.” + +“How are you getting on?” inquired Carrados. + +“We think that we have got hold of the right man, sir; but for reasons +that you can guess the Chief is very anxious to have no mistake this +time.” + +“Muller?” + +“Yes, sir. He has a furnished villa here in Cliffhurst and is very +open-handed. The time he came fits in, so far as we can tell, with the +beginning of the inquiries in Kingsmouth. Then, whatever his real name +is, it isn’t Muller.” + +“He is a German?” + +“Oh yes; he’s German right enough, sir. We’ve looked up telegrams to him +from Lubeck--nothing important though--and he has changed German notes +in Kingsmouth. He spends a lot of time over there--says the fishing is +better, but that’s all my eye, only the Kingsmouth boatmen get hold of +the dockyard talk and know more of the movements than the men about +here. Then there’s a lady.” + +“The intermediary?” + +“That’s further than we can go at the moment, but there is a lady at the +furnished villa. She’s not exactly Mrs Muller, we believe, but she lives +there, if you understand what I mean, sir.” + +“Perfectly,” acquiesced Carrados in the same modest spirit. + +“So that all the necessary conditions can be shown to exist,” concluded +Tapling. + +“But so far you have not a single positive fact connecting Muller with +Brown?” + +The Inspector admitted that he had not, but added hopefully that he was +in immediate expectation of information that would enable him to link up +the detached surmises into a conclusive chain of direct evidence. + +“And if I might ask the favour of you, sir,” he continued, “you would be +doing us a great service if you would allow us to continue our +investigation for another twenty-four hours. I think that by then we +shall be able to show something solid. And if you certify what we have +done, that’s all to our credit, whereas if you take it out of our hands +now----You see what I mean, Mr Carrados, but of course it lies entirely +with you.” + +Carrados assented with his usual good nature. His actual business was +only to examine the evidence before the arrest was made and to guarantee +that the Home Office should not be involved in another spy-scare fiasco. +He knew Tapling to be a reliable officer, and he did not doubt that the +line he was working was the correct one. Least of all did he wish to +deprive the man of his due credit. + +“I can very well put in a day on my own account,” he accordingly +replied. “And so long as Muller is here there does not appear to be any +special urgency. I suppose the odds are that the papers have been got +away before you began to watch?” + +“There is just a chance yet, we believe, sir; and the Admiralty is very +keen on recovering those torpedo plans if it’s to be done. Some of these +foreign spies like to keep the thing as much as possible in their own +hands. There’s more credit to it, and more cash, too, at headquarters if +they do. Then if it comes to a matter of touch-and-go, a letter, and +especially a letter from abroad, may be stopped on the way. You will say +that a man may be, for that matter, but there’s been another reason +against posting valuable papers about here for the past week.” + +“Of course,” assented Carrados with enlightenment. “The Suffragettes +down here are out.” + +“I never thought to have any of that lot helping me,” said the +Inspector, absent-mindedly stroking his right shin; “but they may have +turned the scale for us this time. There isn’t a posting place from a +rural pillar-box to the head office at Kingsmouth that has been really +safe from them. They’ve even got at the registered letters in the +sorting-rooms somehow. That’s why I think there’s a chance still.” + +Parkinson’s approaching figure announced that an hour had passed. +Carrados and the Inspector rose to walk away in different directions, +but before they parted the blind man put a question that had confronted +him several times, although he had as yet given only a glancing +attention to the case. + +“Now that Muller has got the plans of the torpedo, Inspector, why is he +remaining here?” + +It was a simple and an obvious inquiry, but before he replied Inspector +Tapling looked round suspiciously. Then he further reduced the distance +between them and dropped his voice to a whisper. + + * * * * * + +St Ethelburga’s boasted the most tin-potty bell and the highest ritual +of any church in Kingsmouth. Outside it resembled a brick barn, inside a +marble palace, and its ministration overworked a vicar and two +enthusiastic curates. It stood at the corner of Jubilee Street and Lower +Dock Approach, a conjunction that should render further description of +the neighbourhood superfluous. + +The Rev. Byam Hosier, the senior curate, whose magnetic eloquence filled +St Ethelburga’s from chancel steps to porch, lodged in Jubilee Street, +and there Mr Carrados found him at ten o’clock on the following morning. +The curate had just finished his breakfast, and the simultaneous +correction of a batch of exercise books. He apologised for the disorder +without justifying himself by explaining the cause, for instead of being +a laggard Mr Hosier had already taken an early celebration, and +afterwards allowed himself to be intercepted on his way back to attend +to a domestic quarrel, a lost cat, and the arrangements for a funeral. + +“I got your note last night, Mr Carrados,” he said, after guiding his +guest to a seat, for Parkinson had been dismissed to make himself +agreeable elsewhere. “I am glad to show you my small collection, and +still more so to have an opportunity of thanking you for the help you +have given me from time to time.” + +Carrados lightly disclaimed the obligation. It was the first time the +two had met, though, as the outcome of a review article, they had +frequently corresponded. The clergyman went to his single cabinet, took +out the top tray and put it down before his visitor on the now available +table. + +“Pherae,” he said. + +“May I touch the surfaces?” asked the blind man. + +“Oh, certainly. Pray do. I am sorry----” He did not quite know what to +say before the spectacle of the blind expert, with his eyes fixed +elsewhere, passing a critical touch over the details that he himself +loved to gaze upon. + +In this one thing the Rev. Byam was fastidious. His clothes were +generally bordering on the shabby, and he allowed himself to wear boots +that shocked or amused the feminine element in the first half-dozen pews +of St Ethelburga’s. He might--as he frequently did, indeed--make a +breakfast of weak tea, bread and butter and marmalade without any sense +of deficiency, but in the matter of Greek coins his taste was exacting +and his standard exact. His one small mahogany cabinet was pierced for +five hundred specimens, and it was far from full, but every coin was the +exquisite production of the golden era of the world’s creative art. + +It did not take Carrados three minutes to learn this. Occasionally he +dropped a word of comment or inquiry, but for the most part tray +succeeded tray in fascinated silence. + +“Still Larissa,” announced the clergyman, sliding out the last tray. + +Under each coin was a circular ticket with written particulars of the +specimen accompanying it. For some time Carrados took little interest in +these commentaries, but presently Hosier noticed that his guest was +submitting many of them to a close but quiet scrutiny. + +“Excuse my asking, Mr Carrados,” he said at length, “but are you quite +blind?” + +“Quite,” was the unconcerned reply. “Why?” + +“Because I noticed that you held some of the labels close to your eyes +and I fancied that perhaps----” + +“It is my way.” + +“Forgive my curiosity----” + +“I can assure you, Mr Hosier, that other people are much more touchy +about my blindness than I am. Now will you do me a kindness? I should +like a copy of the inscriptions on half-a-dozen of these gems.” + +“With pleasure.” The curate discovered pen and ink and paper and waited. + +“This didrachm of the nymph Larissa wearing earrings; this of Artemis +and the stag; this, and this, and this.” The trays had been left +displayed upon the table and Carrados’s hand selected from them with +unerring precision. + +Hosier took the chosen coins and noted down the legends in their bold +Greek capitals. “Shall I describe the type of each as well?” he asked. + +“Thank you,” assented his visitor. “If you don’t mind writing that also +in capitals and not blotting I shall read it so much the easier.” + +He accepted the sheet of paper and delicately touched the lettering +along each line. + +“I have a friend who will be equally interested in this,” he remarked, +taking out his pocket-book. + +The clergyman had turned to remove a tray from the table when a sheet of +paper, fluttering to the ground, caught his eye. He picked it up and was +returning it into the blind man’s hand when he stopped in a sudden +arrest of every movement. + +“Good heavens, Mr Carrados!” he exclaimed in an agitated voice, “how +does this come in your possession?” + +“Your note?” + +“You know that it is mine?” + +“Yes--now,” replied Carrados quietly. “It was sent to me by the +Admiral-Superintendent of the Yard here. He wished to communicate with +the writer.” + +“I am bewildered at the suddenness of this,” protested the poor young +man in some distress. “Let me tell you the circumstances--such at least +as do not violate my promise.” + +He procured himself a glass of water from the sideboard, drank half of +it and began to pace the room nervously as he talked. + +“On Wednesday last, after taking Evensong at the church, I was leaving +the vestry when a lady stepped forward and asked if she might speak to +me privately. It is a request which a clergyman cannot refuse, Mr +Carrados, but I endeavoured first to find out what she required, because +people frequently come to one or another of us on business that really +has to do with the clerk, or the organist, or something of that sort. + +“She assured me that it was a personal matter and that no other official +would do. + +“The lights had by this time been extinguished in the church, and +doubtless the apparitor had left. I gave her my address here and asked +her if she would call in ten or twenty minutes. I preferred that she +should present herself in the ordinary way. + +“There is no need to go into extraneous details. The unhappy lady wished +to unburden her conscience by making explicit confession, and she had +come to me in consequence of a sermon which she had heard me preach on +the Sunday before. + +“It is not expedient to weigh considerations of time or circumstance in +such a case. I allowed her to proceed, and she made her confession under +the seal of inviolable confidence. It involved other persons besides +herself. I besought her to undo as far as possible the great harm she +had done by making a full statement to the authorities, but this she was +too weak--too terrified--to do. This clumsy warning of mine”--he pointed +to the paper now lying on the table between them--“was the utmost +concession that I could wring from her.” + +He stopped and looked at his visitor with a troubled face that seemed to +demand some sort of assent to the dilemma. + +“You are an Englishman, Mr Hosier, and you know what this might mean in +a conflict--you know that one of our most formidable weapons has been +annexed.” + +“My dear sir!” rapped out the distressed curate, “don’t you think that I +haven’t worried about that? But behind the Englishman stands something +more primitive, more just--the man. I gave my assurance as a man, and +the Admiralty can go hang!” + +“Besides,” he added, in petulant reaction, “the poor woman is dying, and +then everyone can know. Of course it may be too late.” + +“Do you mind telling me if the lady gave you the names of her +accomplices?” + +“How can I tell you, Mr Carrados? It may identify her in some way. I am +too confounded by your unexpected appearance in the affair to know what +is important and what is not.” + +“It will not implicate her. I have no concern there.” + +“Then, yes, she did. She gave me every detail.” + +“I ask because a man is suspected and on the point of arrest. He may be +innocent. I have no deeper motive, but if the one for whom she is +working is not a German called, or passing as, Muller, you might have +some satisfaction in exonerating him.” + +The curate reflected a moment. + +“He is not, Mr Carrados,” he replied decidedly. “But please don’t ask me +anything more.” + +“Very well, I won’t,” said Carrados, rising. “Our numismatic +conversation has taken a strange turn, Mr Hosier. There is a text for +you--Money at the root of everything! By the way, I can do you one +trifling service.” He picked up the anonymous letter, tore it across and +held it out. “You have done all you could. Burn this and then you are +clear of the matter.” + +“Thanks, thanks. But won’t it get you into trouble with the Admiralty?” + +“I make my own terms,” replied Carrados. “Now Mr Hosier, I have been an +ill-omened bird, but I had no suspicion of this when I came. The ‘long +arm’ has landed us this time. Will you come and dine with me one day +this week, and I promise you not a single reference to this troublesome +business?” + +“You are very good,” assented Hosier. + +“I am at Cliffhurst----” + +“Cliffhurst?” was Hosier’s quick exclamation. + +“Yes, at the Rose and Plumes.” + +“I--I am very sorry, Mr Carrados,” stammered the curate, “but, after +all, I am afraid that I must cry off. This week----” + +“If the distance takes up too much of your time, may I send a car?” + +“No, no, it isn’t that--at least, of course, one has to consider time +and work. Thank you, Mr Carrados; you are very kind, but, really, if you +don’t mind----” + +Carrados courteously accepted the refusal without further pressure. He +turned the momentary embarrassment by hoping that Hosier would not fail +to call on him when next in London, and the curate availed himself of +the compromise to protest the pleasure that it would afford him. +Parkinson was summoned and the strangely developed visit came to an end. + +Parkinson doubtless found his master a dull companion on the way back. +Carrados had to rearrange his ideas from the preconception which he had +so far tentatively based on Inspector Tapling’s report, and he was faced +by the necessity of discovering whose presence made the Rose and Plumes +Hotel inexplicably distasteful to Mr Hosier just then. Only two flashes +of conversation broke the journey, both of which may be taken as showing +the trend of Max Carrados’s mind, and demonstrating the sound common +sense exhibited by his henchman. + +“It is a mistake they often make, Parkinson, to begin looking with a +fixed idea of what they are going to find.” + +“Yes, sir.” + +And, ten minutes later: + +“But I don’t know that it would be safe yet to ignore the obvious +altogether.” + +“No, sir,” replied Parkinson. + + * * * * * + +“Not guilty, my lord!” + +That was the link for which Carrados had been waiting patiently each day +since his visit to Kingsmouth; or, more exactly, since the sound of a +voice heard in the hotel on his return had stirred a memory that he +could not materialise. Parkinson had described the man with photographic +exactness and still recognition was balked. Tapling, who found himself +at a deadlock before the furnished villa, both by reason of his want of +progress and at Carrados’s recommendation, contributed his observation, +which was guardedly negative. Everyone about knew Mr Slater--“a +pleasant, open-handed gentleman, with a word and a joke for all”--but no +one knew anything of him, as, indeed, who should know of a leisurely +bird of passage staying for a little time at a seaside hotel? + +Then across the lounge rang the mock-serious repartee, and enlightenment +cut into the patient listener’s brain like a flash of inspiration. + +These were the three telegrams which immediately came into existence as +a result of that ray, deciphered here from their code obscurity: + + + “_To_ GREATOREX, TURRETS, RICHMOND, SURREY. + + “Extract _Times_ full report trial Henry Frankworth, convicted + embezzlement early 1906, and forward express.--CARRADOS.” + + + “_To_ WRATTESLEY, HOME OFFICE, WHITEHALL, S.W. + + “Will you please have Lincoln authorities instructed to send me + confidential report antecedents Henry Frankworth, embezzler, native + Trudstone that county. Urgent.--WYNN CARRADOS.” + + + “_To_ CARLYLE, 72A BAMPTON ST., W.C. + + “MY DEAR LOUIS,--Why not come down week-end talk things over? + Meanwhile make every effort discover subsequent history Henry + Frankworth convicted embezzlement Central Criminal Court early 1906. + Beedel will furnish police records. Pressing.--MAX.” + + +On his way upstairs a few hours later Carrados looked in at the +reception office to inquire if there were any letters. + +“By the by,” he remarked, after he had turned to leave, “I wonder if you +happen to have a room a little--just a little--farther away from the +drawing-room?” + +“Certainly, sir,” replied the clerk. “Does the playing annoy you? They +do keep it up rather late sometimes, don’t they?” + +“No, it doesn’t annoy me,” admitted Carrados; “on the contrary, I am +passionately fond of it. But it tempts me into lying awake listening +when I ought to be asleep.” + +The young lady laughed pleasantly. It was her business to be agreeable. + +“You are considerate!” she rippled. “Well, there’s the further corridor; +or, of course, a floor above----” + +“The floor above would do nicely. Not on the front if possible. The sea +is rather noisy.” + +“Second floor, west corridor.” She glanced at her keyboard. “No. 15?” + +“Is that the side overlooking the----?” + +“The High Street,” she prompted. + +“I am such a poor sleeper,” he apologised. + +“No. 21 on the other side, overlooking the gardens?” she suggested. + +“I am sure that will do admirably,” he said, with the gratitude that is +always so touching from the blind. “Thank you for taking so much trouble +to pick it for me. Good-night.” + +“I will have your things transferred to-morrow,” she nodded after him. + +An hour later Mr Slater, generally the last man to leave the lounge, +strolled across to the office for his key. + +“No. 22, sir, isn’t it?” she hazarded, unhooking it without waiting for +the number. + +“Good little girl,” he assented approvingly. “What a brain beneath that +fascinating aureola. Eh bien, au revoir, petite! You ought to be about +snuffing the candle yourself, my dear.” + +The young lady laughed just as pleasantly. It was her business to be +equally agreeable to all. + + * * * * * + +Mr Carrados was sitting in an alcove of the lounge on the following +morning when Parkinson brought him a letter. It proved to be the extract +from _The Times_, written on the special typewriter. The day was bright +and inviting and the room was deserted. On his master’s instruction +Parkinson sat down and waited while the blind man rapidly deciphered the +half-dozen sheets of typewriting. + +“You have been with me to the Old Bailey several times,” remarked +Carrados, as he slowly replaced the document. “Do you remember an +occasion in February 1906?” + +Parkinson looked unnecessarily wise, but was unable to acquiesce. +Carrados gave him another guide. + +“A man named Frankworth was sentenced to eighteen months’ imprisonment +for an ingenious system of theft. He had also fraudulently disposed of +information to trade rivals of his employer.” + +“I apprehend the circumstances now, sir.” + +“Can you recall the appearance of the prisoner?” + +Parkinson thought that he could, but he did not rise to the suggestion +and Carrados was obliged to follow the direct line. + +“Have you seen anyone lately--here in the hotel--who might be +Frankworth?” + +“I can’t say that I have, sir.” + +“Take Mr Slater now. Shave off his beard and moustache.” + +Parkinson began to look respectfully uncomfortable. + +“Do you mean, sir----” + +“By an effort of the imagination, Parkinson. Close your eyes and picture +Mr Slater as a clean-shaven man, some years younger, standing in the +dock----” + +“Yes, sir. There is a distinct resemblance.” + +With this Max Carrados had to be satisfied for the time. Long memory was +not Parkinson’s strong point, but he had his own pre-eminent gift, and +of this his master was to have an immediate example that outweighed +every possible deficiency. + +“Speaking of Mr Slater, sir, I noticed a curious thing that I intended +to mention, as you told me to be particularly observant.” + +Carrados nodded encouragingly. + +“I was talking to Herbert early this morning as he cleaned the boots. He +is a very bigoted Free Trader, sir, and is thinking of becoming a +Mormon, and I was speaking to him about it. Presently he came to No. +22’s--Mr Slater’s. They were muddy, for Mr Slater went out for a walk +last night--I saw him as he returned. But the boots that Mr Slater put +out to be cleaned last night were not the boots that he went out in and +got wet, although they were exactly the same make.” + +“That is certainly curious,” admitted Carrados slowly. “There was only +one pair put out?” + +“That is all, sir; and they were not the boots that Mr Slater has worn +every day since I began to notice him particularly. He always does wear +the same pair, morning, noon and night.” + +“Wait,” said Carrados briskly. An idea bordering on the fantastic +flashed between a sentence in the report which he had just been reading +and Parkinson’s discovery. He took out the sheets, ran his finger along +the lines and again read--“stated that the prisoner was the son of a +respectable bootmaker, and had followed the occupation himself.” “I know +how accurate you are, Parkinson, but this may be of superlative +importance. You see that?” + +“I had not contemplated it in that light, sir.” + +“But what did the incident suggest to you?” + +“I inferred, sir, that Mr Slater must have had some reason for going out +again after the hotel was closed.” + +“Yes, that might explain half; but what if he did not?” persisted +Carrados. + +Parkinson wisely dismissed the intellectual problem as outside his +sphere. + +“Then I am unable to suggest why the gentleman cleaned his muddy boots +himself and muddied his clean boots, sir.” + +“Yes, that is what it comes to. He is wearing the same pair again this +morning?” + +“Yes, sir. The boots that were dirty at ten o’clock last night.” + +“Pay particular attention to Mr Slater’s boots in future. I have +transferred to No. 21, so you will have every opportunity. Talk to +Herbert about Tariff Reform to-morrow morning. In the meanwhile--Are +they any particular make?” + +“‘Moorland hand-made waterproof,’ a heavy shooting boot, sir. Size 7. +Rossiter, of Kingsmouth, is the maker.” + +“In the meanwhile go to Kingsmouth and buy an identical pair. Before you +go cut the sole off one of your oldest boots and bring me a piece about +three inches square. Buy yourself another pair. Here is a note. Do you +know which chamber-maid has charge of No. 21?” + +“I could ascertain, sir.” + +“It would be as well. You might buy her a bangle out of the change--if +you have no personal objection to the young lady’s society. And, +Parkinson----” + +“Yes, sir?” + +“I know you to be discreet and reliable. The work we are engaged on here +is exceptionally important and equally honourable. A mistake might ruin +it. That is all.” + +“Thank you, sir.” Parkinson marched away with his head a little higher +for the guarded compliment. It was the essence of the man’s +extraordinary value to his master that while on some subjects he thought +deeply, on others he did not think at all; and he contrived +automatically to separate everything into its proper compartment. + +“Here is what you require, sir,” he said, returning with the square of +leather. + +“Come across to the fireplace,” said Carrados. “There is still no one +else in the lounge?” + +“No, sir.” + +“Who would be the last servant to see to this room at night--to leave +the fire safe and the windows fastened?” + +“The hall porter, sir.” + +“Where is he now?” + +“In the outer hall.” + +Carrados bent towards the fire. “It’s a million-to-one chance,” he +thought, “but it’s worth trying.” He dropped the leather on to the red +coals, waited until it began to smoke fiercely, and then, lifting it out +with the tongs, he allowed the pungent aromatic odour to diffuse into +the air for a few seconds. A minute later the charred fragment had lost +its identity among the embers. + +“Go now, and on your way tell the hall porter that I want to speak to +him.” + +The hall porter came, a magnificent being, but full of affable +condescension. + +“You sent for me, sir?” + +Carrados was sitting at a table near the fire. + +“Yes. I am a little nervous. Do you smell anything burning?” + +The porter sniffed the air--superfluously but loudly, so that the blind +gentleman should hear that he was not failing in his duty. Then he +looked comprehensively around. + +“There certainly is a sort of hottish smell somewhere, sir,” he +admitted. + +“It isn’t any woodwork about the fireplace scorching? We blind are so +helpless.” + +“That’s all right, sir.” He laid a broad hand on the mantelpiece and +then rapped it reassuringly. “Solid marble that, sir. You needn’t be +afraid; I’ll give a look across now and then.” + +“Thank you, if you will,” said Carrados, with relief in his voice. “And, +by the way, will you ring for Maurice as you go?” + +A distant bell churred. Across the room, like a strangely balancing +bird, skimmed a waiter. + +“Sair?” + +“Oh, is that you, Maurice? I want----By the way, what’s that burning?” + +“Burning, sair?” + +“Yes; don’t you smell anything?” + +“There is an odour of smell,” admitted Maurice sagely, “but it is +nothing to see.” + +“You don’t know the smell?” + +The waiter shook his head and looked vague. Carrados divined perplexity. + +“Oh, I dare say it’s nothing,” he declared carelessly. “Will you get me +a sherry and khoosh?” + +The million-to-one chance had failed. + +“Sherry and bittaire, sair.” + +Maurice deposited the glass with great precision, regarded it sadly and +then moved it three inches to the right. + +“I ’ave recollect this odour, sair,” he remarked, “although I cannot +give actuality. I ’ave met him here before, but--less--less forcefully.” + +“When?” + +“Oh, one week since, perhaps.” + +“Something in the coals?” suggested Carrados. + +“I imagine yes,” pondered Maurice conscientiously. “I was ‘brightening +up,’ you say, for the night, and the fire was low down. I squash it with +the poker still more for safety.” + +“Oh, then the lounge would be empty?” + +“Yes--of people. Only Mr Slataire already departing.” + +Carrados indicated that he did not want the change and dismissed the +subject. + +“So long as nothing’s on fire,” he said with indifference. + +“Thank you, sair.” + +The million-to-one chance had come off after all. + + * * * * * + +Two days later, walking beyond the usual limit of the conventional +promenade, Carrados reached a rough wooden hut such as contractors erect +during the progress of their work. Having accompanied his master to the +door, Parkinson returned towards the promenade and sat down to admire +the seascape from the nearest bench. + +Inside the hut three men had been waiting. One of the trio, a tall, +military-looking man with the air of a personage, had been sitting on a +whitewash-splashed trestle reading _The Times_. Of the others, one was +Inspector Tapling, and the third a dwarfish, wizened creature with the +air of a converted ostler. He had passed the time by watching the +Cliffhurst side through a knot-hole in a plank. With the entrance of +Carrados the tall man folded his newspaper and a period of expectancy +seemed to have come to an end. + +“Good-morning, Colonel, Inspector and you there, Bob.” + +“You found your way, Mr Carrados?” remarked the Colonel. + +“Yes; it is not really I who am late. I had a letter this morning from +Wrattesley holding me up for a wire at 10.30. It did not arrive till +10.45.” + +“Ah, it did come! Then we may regard everything as settled?” + +“No, Colonel. On the contrary, we must accept everything as upset.” + +“What, sir?” + +Carrados took out the slim pocket-book, extracted a telegram and held it +out. + +“What is this?” demanded the Colonel, peering through his glasses in the +indifferent light. “‘Laburnum edifice plaster dark dark late herald same +dome aurora dark vitiate camp encase.’ I don’t know the code.” + +“Oh, it’s Westneath’s arrangement,” explained Carrados. “‘The individual +with whom we are concerned must not be arrested on charge, but it is of +the gravest importance that the papers in question be recovered. There +must be no public proceedings even if conviction assured.’” + +There was a moment of stupefaction. + +“This--this is a bombshell!” exclaimed the Colonel. “What does it mean?” + +“Politics,” replied Carrados tersely. + +“Ah!” soliloquised Tapling, walking to the door and looking +sympathetically out at the gloomy prospect of sea and sky. + +“But I’ve had no notification,” protested the Colonel. “Surely, Mr +Carrados----” + +“The wire is probably at the station.” + +“True; you said 10.45. Well, what do you propose doing now?” + +“Scrapping all our arrangements and recovering the papers without +arresting Slater.” + +“In what way?” + +“At the moment I have not the faintest idea.” + +The Inspector left the door and came back moodily to his old position. + +“We have reason to think that he is becoming suspicious, Mr Carrados,” +he remarked. “He may decide to go any hour.” + +“Then the sooner we act the better.” + +The stunted pigmy in the background had been listening to the +conversation with rapt attention, fastening his eyes unwinkingly on each +face in turn. He now glided forward. + +“Listen to me, gents,” he said, throwing round a cunning leer; “how does +this sound? This afternoon....” + + * * * * * + +That afternoon Mr Slater had been for what he termed “a blow of the +briny,” as his custom was on a fine day. He was returning in the dusk +and had crossed the spacious promenade when, at a corner, he almost ran +into the broad figure of a policeman who stood talking to a woman on the +path. + +“That’s the man!” exclaimed the woman with almost vicious certainty. + +Mr Slater fell back a step in momentary alarm; then, recovering his +self-control, he went forward with admirable composure. + +“Beg pardon, sir,” explained the constable, “but this young lady has +just lost her purse. She says she was sitting next to you on a seat----” + +“And the minute after he had gone--the very minute--my bag was open like +you see it now and my purse vanished,” interposed the lady volubly. + +“On the seat by the lifeboat where I passed you, sir,” amplified the +constable. + +“This is ridiculous,” said Mr Slater with a breath of relief. “I am a +gentleman and I have no need to steal purses. My name is Slater, and I +am staying at the Rose and Plumes.” + +“Yes, sir,” assented the policeman respectfully. “I know you by sight, +sir, and have seen you go there. You hear what the gentleman says, +miss?” + +“Gentleman or no gentleman, I know my purse has gone,” snapped the girl. +“If he hasn’t got it why did it vanish--where is it now? That’s all I +ask--where is it now?” + +“You’ve seen nothing of it, I take it, sir?” + +“No, of course I haven’t,” retorted the gentleman contemptuously. “I was +sitting on a seat. The woman may have sat next to me--someone reading +certainly did. Then I got up, walked once or twice up and down and came +across. That’s all.” + +“What was in the purse, miss?” inquired the constable. + +“A postal order for a sovereign--and, thank the Lord, I’ve got the tag +of it--a half-crown, two shillings and a few coppers, a Kruger sixpence +with a hole through, a gold gipsy ring with pearls, the return half of +my ticket, some hairpins and a few recipes, a book of powder papers, a +pocket mirror----” + +“That ought to be enough to identify it by,” said the constable, +catching Mr Slater’s eye in humorous sympathy. “Well, miss, you’d better +come to the station and report the loss. Perhaps you’ll look in as well, +sir?” + +“Does that mean,” demanded Mr Slater with a dark gleam, “that I am to be +charged with theft?” + +“Bless you, no, sir,” was the easy reassurance. “We couldn’t take a +charge in the circumstances--not with a gentleman of respectable +position and known address. But it might save you some inquiry and +bother later, and if it was myself I should like to get it done with +while it was red-hot, so to speak.” + +“I will go now,” decided Mr Slater. “Do I walk with----?” + +“Just as you like, sir. You can go before or follow on. It’s only just +down Bank Street.” + +The two went on and the gentleman followed at a few yards’ interval. +Three minutes and a blue lamp indicated their destination. No other +pedestrian was in sight; the door stood hospitably open and Mr Slater +walked in. + +The station Inspector was seated at a desk when they entered and a +couple of other officials stood about the room. The policeman explained +the circumstances of the loss, the Inspector noting the details in the +record-book. + +“This gentleman voluntarily accompanied us as he had been brought into +the case,” concluded the policeman. + +“Here is my card, Superintendent,” said Mr Slater with some importance. +He had determined to be agreeable, but dignified, and to enlist the +Inspector on his side. “I am staying at the Rose and Plumes. It’s deuced +unpleasant, you know, for a gentleman in my position to have to answer +to a charge like this. That’s why I came at once to clear the matter +up.” + +“Quite so, sir,” replied the Inspector; “but there is no charge at +present.” He turned to the girl. “You understand that if you sign the +charge-sheet and it turns out that you are mistaken it may be a serious +matter?” + +“I only want my purse and money back,” replied the young woman mulishly. + +“We will try to find it for you; but there is nothing beyond your +suspicion that this gentleman has ever seen it. Probably, sir, you don’t +possess a sovereign postal order, or a Kruger coin, or any of the other +articles, even of your own?” + +“I don’t,” replied Mr Slater. “Except, of course, some silver and +copper. If it will satisfy you I will turn out my pockets.” + +The Inspector looked at the complainant. + +“You hear that, miss?” + +“Oh, very well,” she retorted. “If he really hasn’t got it I shall be +the one to look silly, shan’t I?” + +On this encouragement Mr Slater made a display of his various +possessions, turning out each pocket as he emptied it. The contents were +laid before the Inspector, who satisfied himself by a glance of their +innocent nature. + +“I should warn you that I am going to bring out a loaded revolver,” said +Mr Slater when he came to his hip-pocket. “I travel a good deal abroad +and often in wild parts, where it is necessary to carry a pistol for +protection.” + +The Inspector nodded and examined the weapon with a knowing touch. The +last pocket was displayed. + +“That’s not what I mean,” objected the girl with a dogged air, as +everyone began to regard her in varying degrees of inquiry. “You don’t +suppose that anyone would keep the things in their pocket, do you? I +thought you meant properly.” + +The Inspector addressed himself to Mr Slater again in a matter-of-fact, +business manner. + +“Perhaps you would like one of my men to put his hand over you to settle +the matter, sir?” he asked. + +For just a couple of seconds there was the pause of hesitation. + +“If nothing is found you withdraw all imputation against this +gentleman?” demanded the Inspector of the girl. + +“Suppose I must,” she admitted with an admirable pose of sulky +acquiescence. In less exciting moments the young lady was a valued +member of the Kingsmouth Amateur Dramatic Society. + +“Oh, all right,” assented Mr Slater. “Only get it over.” + +“You quite understand that the search is entirely voluntary on your +part, sir. Hilldick!” + +One of the other policemen came forward. + +“You can stand where you are, sir,” he directed. With the practised +skill of, say, a Custom House officer from Kingsmouth, he used his +fingers dexterously about the gentleman’s clothing. “Now, sir, will you +sit down and remove your boots for a moment?” + +“My boots!” The man’s eyes narrowed and his mouth took another line. He +glanced at the Inspector. “Is it really necessary----?” + +“That’s it!” came from the girl in a fiercely exultant whisper. “He’s +slipped them in his boots!” + +“Idiot!” commented Mr Slater. He sat down and slowly drew slack the +laces. + +“Thank you,” said Hilldick. He picked up both boots and with them turned +to the table underneath the light. The next moment there was a sound +like the main-spring of a clock going wrong and the sole and the upper +of one boot came violently apart. + +“You scoundrel!” screamed Slater, leaping from the chair. + +But the grouping of the room had undergone a quiet change. Two men +closed in on his right and left, and Mr Slater sat down again. The +Inspector opened the desk, dropped in the revolver and turned the key. +Then all eyes went again to Hilldick and saw--nothing. + +“The other boot,” came in a quiet voice from the doorway to the inner +room. “But just let me have it for a second.” + +It was put into his hands, and Carrados examined it in unmoved +composure, while unpresentable words flowed in a blistering stream from +Slater’s lips. + +“Yes, it is very good workmanship, Mr Frankworth,” remarked the blind +man. “You haven’t forgotten your early training. All right, Hilldick.” + +The tool cut and rasped again and the stitches flew. But this time from +the opening, snugly lying in a space cut out among the leathers, a flat +packet slid down to the ground. + +Someone tore open the oiled silk covering and spread out the contents. +Six sheets of fine tracing paper, each covered with signs and drawings, +were disclosed. + +The finality of the discovery acted on the culprit like a douche of +water. He ceased to revile, and a white and deadly calm came over him. + +“I don’t know who is responsible for this atrocious outrage,” he said +between his clenched teeth, “but everyone concerned shall pay dearly for +it. I am a naturalised Frenchman, and my adopted country will demand +immediate satisfaction.” + +“Your adopted country is welcome to you, and it’s going to have you back +again,” said the Inspector grimly. “Here is a pair of boots exactly like +your own--we only retain the papers, which do not belong to you. You are +allowed twenty-four hours to be clear of the country. If you have not +sailed by this time to-morrow you will be arrested as Henry Frankworth +for failing to report yourself when on licence and sent to serve the +unexpired portion of your sentence. If you return at any time the same +course will be followed. Inspector Tapling, here is the warrant. You +will keep Frankworth under observation and act as the circumstances +demand.” + +Henry Frankworth glared round the room vindictively, drew himself up and +clenched his fists. Then his figure drooped, and he turned and walked +dully out into the darkening night. + + * * * * * + +“So you let the German spy slip through your fingers after all,” +protested Mr Carlyle warmly. “I know that it was on instructions, and +not your doing, Max; but why, why on earth, why?” + +Carrados smiled and pointed to the heading of a column in an evening +paper that he picked up from his side. + +“There is your answer, Louis,” he replied. + +“‘POSITION OF THE ENTENTE. WHAT DOES FRANCE MEAN?’” read the gentleman. +“What has that got to do with it?” + +“Your German spy was a French spy, Louis, and just at this moment a +certain section of the public, led by a certain gang of politicians and +aided by a certain interest in the Press, is doing its best to imperil +the Entente. The Government has no desire to have the Entente +imperilled. Hence your wail. If the dear old emotional, pig-headed, +Rule-Britannia! public had got it that French spies were stalking +through the land at this crisis, then, indeed, the fat would have been +in the fire!” + +“But, upon my soul, Max----Well, well; I hope that I am the last man to +be led by newspaper clap-trap, but I think that it’s a deuced queer +proceeding all the same. Why should our ally want our secret plans?” + +“Why not, if he can get them?” demanded Max Carrados philosophically. +“One never knows what may happen next. We ought to have plans and +knowledge of all the French strategic positions as well as of the +German. I hope that we have, but I doubt it. It would be a guarantee of +peace and good relations.” + +“There are times, Max,” declared Mr Carlyle severely, “when I suspect +you of being--er--paradoxical.” + +“Can you imagine, Louis, an Archbishop of Canterbury, or a Poet +Laureate, or a Chancellor of the Exchequer being friendly--perhaps even +dining--with the editor of _The Times_?” + +“Certainly; why not?” + +“Yet in the editor’s office, drawn up by his orders, there is probably a +three-column obituary notice of each of those impersonalities. Does it +mean that the editor wishes them to die--much less has any intention of +poisoning their wine? Ridiculous! He merely, as a prudent man, prepares +for an eventuality, so as not to be caught unready by a misfortune which +he sincerely hopes will never take place--in his time, that is to say.” + +“Well, well,” said Mr Carlyle benignantly--they were lunching together +at Vitet’s, on Carrados’s return--“I am glad that we got the papers. One +thing I cannot understand. Why didn’t the fellow get clear as soon as he +had the plans?” + +“Ah,” admitted the blind man, “why not, indeed? Even Inspector Tapling +bated his breath when he suggested the reason to me.” + +“And what was that?” inquired Carlyle with intense interest. + +Mr Carrados looked extremely mysterious and half-reluctant for a moment. +Then he spoke. + +“Do you know, Louis, of any great secret military camp where a surprise +fleet of dirigibles and flying machines of a new and terrible pattern is +being formed by a far-seeing Government as a reserve against the day of +Armageddon?” + +“No,” admitted Mr Carlyle, with staring eyes, “I don’t.” + +“Nor do I,” contributed Carrados. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + IX + + The Eastern Mystery + + +It could scarcely be called Harris’s fault, whatever the driver next +behind might say in the momentary bitterness of his heart. In the +two-fifths of a second of grace at his disposal Mr Carrados’s chauffeur +had done all that was possible and the bunt that his radiator gave the +stair-guard of the London General in front was insignificant. Then a +Railway Express Delivery skated on its dead weight into his luggage +platform and a Pickford, turning adroitly out of the mêlée, slewed a +stationary Gearless round by its hand-rail stanchion to spread terror +among the other line of traffic. + +The most unconcerned person, to all appearance, was the driver of the +London General, the vehicle whose sudden stoppage had initiated the riot +of confusion. He had seen a man, engrossed to the absolute exclusion of +his surroundings by something that took his eye on the opposite +footpath, dash into the road and then, brought up suddenly by a +realisation of his position, attempt to retrace his steps. He had pulled +up so expertly that the man escaped, so smoothly that not a passenger +was jarred, and now he sat with a dazed and vacant expression on his +face, leaning forward on his steering wheel, while caustic inquiry and +retort winged unheeded up and down the line behind him. + +It was not until the indispensable ceremony of everyone taking everyone +else’s name and number had been observed under the authority of the +tutelary constable that the single occupant of the private car stirred +to show any interest in the proceedings. + +“Parkinson,” he called quietly, summoning his attendant to the window. +“Ask Mr Tulloch if he will come round here when he has finished with the +policeman.” + +“Mr Tulloch, sir?” + +“Yes; you remember Dr Tulloch of Netherhempsfield? He is on in front +there.” + +A moment later Jim Tulloch, as genial as of old, but his exuberance +temporarily damped by the cross-bickering in which he had just been +involved, thrust his head and arm through the sash. + +“Lord, lord, it really is you then, Wynn, old man?” he cried. “When your +Parkinson came up I couldn’t believe it for a minute, simply couldn’t +believe it. The world grows smaller, I declare.” + +“At all events this car does,” responded Carrados, wringing the hearty, +outstretched hand. “They’ve got us two inches less than the makers ever +intended. Is it really your doing, Jim?” + +“Did ever you hear such a thing?” protested Tulloch. “And yet that +wall-eyed atrocity yonder has kidded the copper that if he hadn’t +stopped dead--well, I should.” + +“Was it a near thing?” asked Carrados confidentially. + +“Well, strictly between ourselves, I don’t mind admitting that it might +have been something of a shave,” confessed Tulloch, with a cheerful +grin. “But, lord bless you, Wynn, the streets of London are paved with +’em nowadays, paved with them. You don’t merely take your life in your +hands if you want to get about; you carry it on each foot.” + +“Look here,” said Carrados. “You never let me know that you were up in +town, Tulloch. What are you doing to-day?” + +“I beg your pardon, sir,” interrupted Parkinson’s respectful voice, “but +the policeman wishes to speak with you, sir.” + +“With me?” queried Tulloch restlessly. “Oh, good lord! have we to go +into all that again?” + +“It’s only the bus-driver, sir,” apologised the constable with the +tactful deference that the circumstances seemed to demand. “As you are a +doctor--I think there’s something the matter with him.” + +“I’m sure there is,” assented Tulloch. “All right, I’m coming. Are you +in a hurry, Wynn?” + +“I’ll wait,” was the reply. + +The doctor found his patient propped up on a doorstep. Having, as he +expressed it afterwards, “run the rule over him,” he prescribed a glass +of water and an hour’s rest. The man was shaken, that was all. + +“Nerves, Wynn,” he announced when he returned to his friend. “I don’t +quite understand his emotion, but the shock of not having run over me +seems to have upset the poor fellow.” + +“I was asking you whether you were doing anything to-day,” said +Carrados. “Can you come back with me to Richmond?” + +“I’m not doing anything as far as that goes,” admitted Tulloch. “In +fact,” he added ruefully, “that’s the plague of it. I’m waiting to hear +from a man who’s waiting to hear from another man, and _he’s_ depending +on something that may or mayn’t, you understand.” + +“Then you can come along now anyway. Get in.” + +“If it’s dinner you mean, I can’t come straight away, you know,” +protested Tulloch. “Look at me togs”--he stood back to display a +serviceable Norfolk suit--“all right for the six-thirty sharp of a +Bloomsbury boarding-house, but--eh, what?” + +“Don’t be an ass, Jim,” said the blind man amiably. “I can’t see your +silly togs.” + +“No ladies or any of your tony friends?” + +“Not a soul.” + +“The fact is,” confided Tulloch, taking his place in the car, “I’ve been +out of things for a bit, Wynn, and I’m finding civilisation a shade +cast-iron now. I’ve been down in the wilds since you were with me.” + +“I wondered where you were. I wrote to you about six months ago and the +letter came back.” + +“Did it actually? Now that must have been almighty careless of someone, +Wynn. I’m sorry; I’m a bit of a rolling stone, I suppose. When Darrish +came back to Netherhempsfield my job was done there. I felt uncommonly +restless. I hadn’t much chance of buying a practice or dropping into a +partnership worth having and I jibbed at setting up in some God-forsaken +backwater and slipping into middle age ‘building up a connection.’ Lord, +lord, Carrados, the tragic monotony of your elderly professional +nonentity! I’ve known men who’ve whispered to me between the pulls at +confidential pipes that they’ve come to hate the streets and the houses +and the same old everlasting silly faces that they met day after day +until they began to think very queer thoughts of how they might get away +from it all.” + +“Yes,” said Carrados. + +“Anyway, ‘Not yet,’ I promised myself, and when I got the chance of a +temporary thing on a Red Cable liner I took it like a shot. That was +something. If there was a mighty sameness about it after a bit, it +wasn’t the sameness I’d been accustomed to. Then, as luck of one sort or +another would have it, I got laid out with a broken ankle on a Bombay +quay.” + +Carrados voiced commiseration. + +“But you made a very good mend of it,” he said. “It’s the left, of +course. I don’t suppose anyone ever notices it.” + +“I took care of that,” replied Tulloch. “But it was a slow business and +threw all my plans out. I was on a very loose end when one day, outside +the Secretariat, as they call it, I ran up against a man called Fraser +whom I’d known building a viaduct or something of that sort in the Black +Country. + +“‘What on earth are _you_ doing here?’ we naturally both said at once, +and he was the first to reply. + +“‘I’m just off to repair an irrigation “bund” a thousand miles more or +less away, and I’m looking for a doctor who can speak six words of +Hindustani, and doesn’t mind things as they are, to physic the camp. +What are you doing?’ + +“‘Good lord! old man,’ I said, ‘I was looking for you!’” + +It only required an occasional word to keep Tulloch going, and Carrados +supplied it. He heard much that did not interest him--of the journey +inland, of the face of the country, the surprising weather, the great +work of irrigation and the other impressive wonders of man and nature. +These things could be got from books, but among the weightier cargo +Tulloch now and again touched off some inimitable phase of life or told +an uninventable anecdote of native character that lived. + +Yet the buoyant doctor had something on his mind, for several times he +stopped abruptly on the edge of a reminiscence, as though he was +doubtful, if not of the matter, at least of the manner in which he +should begin. These indications were not lost on his friend, but +Carrados made no attempt to press him, being very well assured that +sooner or later the ingenuous Jim would find himself beyond retreat. The +occasion came with the cigarettes after dinner. There had been a +reference to the language. + +“I often wished that I was a better stick at it,” said Tulloch. “I’d +picked up a bit in Bombay and of course I threw myself into it when +Fraser got me the post. I managed pretty well with the coolies in the +camp, but when I tried to have a word with the ryots living +round--little twopenny ha’penny farmers, you know--I could make no show +of it. A lot of queer fish you come across out there, in one way or +another, you take my word. You never know whether a man’s a professional +saint of extreme holiness or a hereditary body-snatcher whose shadow +would make a begging leper consider himself unclean until he had walked +seventy miles to drink a cupful of filthy water out of a stinking pond +that a pock-marked ascetic had been sitting in for three years in order +to contemplate quietly.” + +“Possibly he really was unclean--in consequence or otherwise,” suggested +Carrados. + +“Help!” exclaimed Tulloch tragically. “There are things that have to be +seen. But then so was the sanctified image, so that there’s nothing for +an outsider to go by. And then all the different little lots with their +own particular little heavens and their own one exclusive way of getting +there, and their social frills and furbelows--Jats and Jains and Thugs +and Mairs and Gonds and Bhills and Toms, Dicks and Harrys--suburban +society is nothing to it, Wynn, nothing at all. There was a strange old +joker I’ve had in mind to tell you about, though it was no joke for him +in the end. God alone knows where he came from, but he was in the camp +one evening juggling for stray coppers in a bowl. Pretty good juggling +too it seemed to be, of the usual Indian kind--growing a plant out of a +pumpkin seed, turning a stick into a live snake, and the old sword and +basket trick that every Eastern conjurer keeps up his sleeve; but all +done out in the open, with people squatting round and a simplicity of +appliance that would have taken all the curl out of one of your +music-hall magicians. With him he had a boy, his son, a misshapen, +monkey-like anatomy of about ten, but there was no doubt that the man +was desperately fond of his unattractive offspring. + +“That night this ungainly urchin, taking a cooler in one of the big +irrigation canals, got laid hold of by an alligator and raised the most +unearthly screech anything human--if he really was human--ever got out. +I seemed to have had something prominent to do with the damp job of +getting as much of him away from the creature as we could, and old +Calico--that’s what we anglicised the juggler’s name into--had some sort +of idea of being grateful in consequence. Although I don’t doubt that +he’d have put much more faith in a local wizard if one had been +available, he let us take the boy into the hospital tent and do what we +could for him. It wasn’t much, and I told my assistant to break it to +poor old Calico that he must be prepared for the worst. A handy man, +that assistant, Wynn. He was a half-bred ‘Portugoose,’ as they say in +Bombay, with the name of Vasque d’Almeydo, and I understood that he’d +had some training. When we got out there he said that it was all the +same to him, but he admitted quite blandly that he was really a cook and +nothing more. What about his excellent testimonials? I asked him, and he +replied with cheerful impenitence that he had hired them in the open +market for one rupee eight, adding feelingly that he would willingly +have given twice as much to qualify for my honorable service. In the end +he did pretty much as he liked, and as he could speak five languages and +scramble through seven dialects I was glad to have him about on any +terms. I don’t quite know how he broke it, but when I saw him later he +said that Calico was a ‘great dam fool.’ He was a conjurer and knew how +tricks were done and yet he had set out at once for some place thirty +miles away--to procure a charm of some sort, the Portuguese would swear +from a hint he had got. Vasque--of course by this time he’d become +Valasquez to us--laughed pleasantly as he commented on native credulity. +He was a Roman Catholic himself, so that he could afford it. The next +day the boy died and an hour later poor Calico came reeling in. He’d got +a nasty cut over the eye and a map of the route drawn over him in thorns +and blisters and sand-burns, but he’d got something wrapped away in a +bit of rag carried in the left armpit, and I felt for the poor old +heathen. When he understood, he borrowed a spade and, taking up the +child just as he was, he went off into the pagan solitude to bury him. +I’d got used to these simple ways by that time. + +“I thought that I’d seen the end of the incident, but late that night I +heard the sentry outside challenge someone--we’d had so many tools and +things looted by ‘friendlies’ that they’d lent us half a company of +Sikhs from Kharikhas--and a moment later Calico was salaaming at the +tent door. As it happened, Valasquez was away at a thing they called a +village trafficking for some ducks, and I had to grapple with the +conversation as best I could--no joke, I may tell you, for the juggler’s +grasp on conventional Urdu was about as slender as my own. And the first +thing he did was to put his paws on to my astonished feet, then up to +his forehead, and to prostrate himself to the ground. + +“‘Sahib,’ he protested earnestly, ‘I am thy slave and docile elephant +for that which thou hast done for the man-child of my house.’ + +“Now you know, Carrados, I simply can’t stand that sort of thing. It +makes me feel such a colossal ass. So I tried, ungraciously enough I +dare swear, to cut him short. But it couldn’t be done. Poor old Calico +had come to discharge what weighed on him as a formidable obligation and +my ‘Don’t mention it, old chap,’ style was quite out of the picture. +Finally, from some obscure fold of his outfit, he produced a little +screw of cloth and began to unwrap it. + +“‘Take it, O sahib, and treasure it as you would a cup of water in the +desert, for it has great virtue of the hidden kind. Condescend to accept +it, for it is all I have worthy of so great a burden.’ + +“‘I couldn’t think of it, Khaligar,’ I said, trying to give his name a +romantic twist, for the other sounded like guying him. ‘I’ve done +nothing, you know, and in any case this is much more likely to work with +you than with me--an unbeliever. What is it, anyway?’ + +“‘It is the sacred tooth of the ape-god Hanuman and it protects from +harm,’ he replied, reverently displaying what looked to me like an old +rusty nail. ‘Had I but been able to touch so much as the hem of the +garment of my manlet with it before the hour of his outgoing he would +assuredly have recovered.’ + +“‘Then keep it for your own protection,’ I urged. ‘I expect that you run +more risks than I do.’ + +“‘When the flame has been extinguished from a candle the smoke lingers +but a moment before it also fades away,’ he replied. ‘Thy mean servant +has no wish to live now that the light of his eyes has gone out, nor +does he seek to avert by magic that which is written on his forehead.’ + +“‘Then it is witchcraft?’ I said, pointing to the amulet. + +“‘I know not, my lord,’ he answered; ‘but if it be witchcraft it is of +the honourable sort and not the goety of Sahitan. For this cause it is +only of avail to one who acquires it without treachery or guile. Take +it, sahib, but do not suffer it to become known even to those of your +own table.’ + +“‘Why not?’ I asked. + +“‘Who should boast of pearls in a camp of armed bandits?’ he replied +evasively. ‘A word spoken in a locked closet becomes a beacon on the +hill-top for men to see. Yet have no fear; harm cannot come to you, for +your hand is free from complicity.’ + +“I hadn’t wanted the thing before, but that settled me. I very much +doubted how the conjurer had got possession of it and I had no wish to +be mixed up in an affair of any sort. I told him definitely that while I +appreciated his motives I shouldn’t deprive him of so great a treasure. +He seemed really concerned, and Fraser told me afterwards that for one +of that tribe to be under what he regarded as an unrequited obligation +was a dishonour. I should probably have had some trouble to get him off, +only just then we heard Valasquez returning. Calico hastily wrapped up +the relic, stowed it away among his wardrobe and, with his most +ceremonious salaam, disappeared. + +“‘Do you know anything about the tooth of the ape-god Hanuman, +Valasquez?’ I asked him some time later. The ‘Portugoose’ seemed to know +a little about everything and in consequence of my dependence on him he +strayed into a rather more free and easy manner than might have passed +under other conditions. But I’m not ceremonious, you know, Wynn.” + +And Carrados laughed and agreed. + +“‘The sacred tooth of Sira Hanuman, sir?’ said Valasquez. ‘Oh, that’s +all great tom dam foolery. There are a hundred million of them. The most +notable one was worshipped at the Mountain of Adam in Ceylon until it +was captured by my ancestor, the illustrious Admiral d’Almeydo, who sent +it with much pomp and circumstance to Goa. Then the Princes of Malabar +offered a ransom of rupees, forty lakhs, for it, which the Bishop of Goa +refused, like a dam great fool!’ + +“‘What became of it?’ I asked, but Valasquez didn’t know. He was +somewhat of a liar, in fact, and I dare say that he’d made it all up to +show off his knowledge.” + +“No,” objected Carrados; “I think that Baldæus, the Dutch historian, has +a similar tale. What happened to Calico?” + +“That was the worst of it. Some of our men found his body lying among +the tamarisk scrub two days later. There was no doubt that he’d been +murdered, and not content with that, the ghouls had mutilated him +shamefully afterwards. Even his cheeks were slashed open. So, you see, +the tooth of Hanuman had not protected him.” + +“No,” assented Carrados, “it had certainly not protected him. Was +anything done--anyone arrested?” + +“I don’t think so. You know what the natives are in a case like that: no +one knows anything, even if they have been looking on at the time. I +suppose a report would be sent up, but I never heard anything more. I +always had a suspicion that Calico, with his blend of simple faith and +gipsy blood, had violated a temple, or looted a shrine, to save his +son’s life, and that the guardians of the relic tracked him and revenged +the outrage. Anyway, I was glad that I hadn’t accepted it after that, +for I had enough excitement without.” + +“What was that, Jim?” + +“Oh, I don’t know, but I always seemed to be running up against +something about that time. Twice my tent was turned inside out in my +absence, once my clothes were spirited away while I was bathing, and the +night before we broke up the camp I was within an ace of being +murdered.” + +“You bear a charmed life,” said Carrados suggestively, but Tulloch did +not rise to the suggestion. + +“It was a bit of luck. Those dacoits are as quiet as death, but for some +reason I woke suddenly with the idea that devilment was brewing. I +slipped on the first few things that came to hand and went to +reconnoitre. As I passed through the canvas I came face to face with a +native, and two others were only a few yards behind. Without any +ceremony the near man let drive at my throat with one of those beastly +wavy daggers they go in for. I suppose I managed to dodge in the +fraction of a second, for he missed me. I gave a yell for assistance, +landed the leader one in the eye and backed into my tent for a weapon. +By the time I was out again our fellows were running up, but the +precious trio had disappeared.” + +“That was the last you saw of them?” asked Carrados tentatively. + +“No, queerly enough. The day I sailed I encountered the one whose eye I +had touched up. It was down by the water--the Apollo Bander--at Bombay, +and I was so taken aback, never thinking but that the fellow was +hundreds of miles away that I did nothing but stare. But I promised +myself that in the unlikely event of ever seeing him again I would +follow him up pretty sharply.” + +“Not under the wheels of a London General again, I hope!” + +Tulloch’s brown fist came down upon the table with a crash. + +“The devil, Carrados!” he exclaimed. “How did you know?” + +“Parkinson was just describing to me a rather exotic figure. Then the +rest followed.” + +“Well you were right. There was the man in Holborn, and of all the +fantastic things in the world for a bloodthirsty thug from the back +wilds of Hindustan, I believe that he was selling picture post cards!” + +“Possibly a very natural thing to be doing in the circumstances.” + +“What circumstances, Wynn?” + +“Those you are telling me of. Go on.” + +“That’s about all there is. When I saw the man I was so excited, I +suppose, that I started to dash across without another thought. You know +the result. Of course he had vanished by the time I could look round.” + +“You are quite sure he is the same?” + +“There’s always the possibility of a mistake, I admit,” considered +Tulloch, “but, speaking in ordinary terms, I should say that it’s a +moral certainty. On the first occasion it was bright moonlight and the +sensational attack left a very vivid photograph on my mind. In Bombay I +had no suspicion of doubt about the man, and he was still carrying +traces of my fist. Here, it is true, I had less chance of observing him, +but recognition was equally instantaneous and complete. Then consider +that each time he has slipped away at once. No, I am not mistaken. What +is he after, Carrados?” + +“I am very much afraid that he is after you, my friend,” replied +Carrados, with some concern lurking behind the half-amused level of his +voice. + +“After me!” exclaimed Tulloch with righteous indignation. “Why, confound +his nerve, Wynn, it ought to be the other way about. What’s he after me +for?” + +“India is a conservative land. The gods do not change. A relic that was +apprised at seven hundred thousand ducats in the days of Queen Elizabeth +is worth following up to-day--apart, of course, from the merit thereby +acquired by a devotee.” + +“You mean that Calico’s charm was the real original thing that Valasquez +spoke of?” + +“It is quite possible; or it may be claimed for it even if it is not. +Goa has passed through many vicissitudes; its churches and palaces are +now in ruins. What is more credible----” + +“But in any case I haven’t got the thing. Surely the old ass needn’t +murder me to find out that.” + +The face he appealed to betrayed nothing of the thoughts behind it. But +Carrados’s mind was busy with every detail of the story he had heard, +and the more he looked into it the less he felt at ease for his +impetuous friend’s safety. + +“On the contrary,” he replied, “from the pious believer’s point of view, +the simplest and most effective way of ascertaining it was to try to +murder you, and your providential escape has only convinced them that +you are now the holder of the charm.” + +“The deuce!” said Tulloch ruefully. “Then I have dropped into an +imbroglio after all. What’s to be done?” + +“I wonder,” mused the blind man speculatively, “I wonder what really +became of the thing.” + +“You mean after Calico’s death?” + +“No, before that. I don’t imagine that your entertaining friend had it +at the end. He had nothing to look forward to, you remember; he did not +wish to live. His assassins were those who were concerned in the +recovery of the relic, for why else was he mutilated but in order to +discover whether he had concealed it with more than superficial +craft--perhaps even swallowed it? They found nothing or you would not +have engaged their attention. As it was, they were baffled and had to +investigate further. Then they doubtless learned that you had put this +man under an undying obligation, possibly they even knew that he had +visited you the last thing before he left the camp. The rest has been +the natural sequence.” + +“It seems likely enough in an incredible sort of way,” admitted the +doctor. “But I don’t see why this old sport should be occupying himself +as he is in the streets of London.” + +“That remains to be looked into. It may be some propitiatory form of +self-abasement that is so potent in the Oriental system. But it may +equally well be something quite different. If this man is of high +priestly authority there are hundreds of his co-religionists here at +hand whose lives he could command in such a service. He may be in +communication with some, or be contriving to make himself readily +accessible. Are there any Indians at your boarding-house?” + +“I have certainly seen a couple recently.” + +“Recently! Then they came after you did?” + +“I don’t know about that. I haven’t had much to do with the place.” + +“I don’t like it, Jim,” said Carrados, with more gravity than he was +accustomed to put into the consideration of his own risks. “I don’t like +the hang of it at all.” + +“Well, for that matter, I’m not exactly pining for trouble,” replied his +friend. “But I can take care of myself anyway.” + +“But you can’t,” retorted Carrados. “That’s just the danger. If you were +blind it would be all right, but your credulous, self-opinionated eyes +will land you in some mess.... To-morrow, at all events, Carlyle shall +put a watch on this enterprising Hindu and we shall at least find out +what his movements are.” + +Tulloch would have declined the attention, but Carrados was insistent. + +“You must let me have my way in such an emergency, Tulloch,” he +declared. “Of course you would say that it’s out of your power to +prevent me, but among friends like you and I one acquiesces to a certain +code. I say this because I may even find it necessary to put a man on +you as well. This business attracts me resistlessly. There’s something +more in it than we have got at yet, something that lies beyond the +senses and strives to communicate itself through the unknown dimension +that we have all stood just upon the threshold of, only to find that we +have lost the key. It’s more elusive than Macbeth’s dagger: ‘I have thee +not and yet I see thee still’--always just out of reach. What is it, +Jim; can’t you help us? Don’t you feel something portentous in the air, +or is it only my blind eyes that can see beyond?” + +“Not a bit of it,” laughed Tulloch cheerfully. “I only feel that a +blighted old heathen is leading himself a rotten dance through his +pig-headed obstinacy. Well, Wynn, why can’t he be rounded up and have it +explained that he’s on the wrong tack? I don’t mind crying quits. I did +get in a sweet one on the eye, and he’s had a long journey for nothing. +Eh, what?” + +“He would not believe.” Carrados was pacing the room in one of his rare +periods of mental tension. Instinct, judgment, experience and a subtler +prescience that enveloped reason seemed at variance in his mind. Then he +swung round and faced his visitor. + +“Look here, Tulloch, stay with me for the present,” he urged. “You can +go there for your things to-morrow and I can fix you up in the meantime. +It’s safer; I feel it will be safer.” + +“Safer! Good lord! what could you have safer than a stodgy second-rate +boarding-house in Hapsburg Square? The place drones respectability. Miss +Vole, the landlady, is related to an archdeacon and nearly all the +people there are on half-pay. The two Indians are tame baboos. Besides, +if I get this thing I told you of, I shall be off to South America in a +few days, and that ought to shake off this old man of the tooth.” + +“Of course it won’t; nothing will shake him off if he’s made the vow. +Well, have your own way. One can’t expect a doctor of robust habit to +take any reasonable precautions, I know. How is your room situated?” + +“Pretty high up. Next to the attics, I imagine. It must be, because +there is a little trap-door in the ceiling leading there.” + +“A trap-door leading to the attics! Well, at all events there can’t be +an oubliette, I suppose? Nor a four-post bed with a canopy that slides +up and down, Jim; nor a revolving wardrobe before a secret passage in +the oak panels?” + +“Get on with you,” retorted Tulloch. “It’s just the ordinary contrivance +that you find somewhere in every roof when the attics aren’t made into +rooms. There’s nothing in it.” + +“Possibly; but there may be some time. Anyway, drive a tack in and hang +up a tin can or something that must clatter down if the door is raised +an inch. You have a weapon, I suppose?” + +“Now you’re talking, Wynn. I do put some faith in that. I have a grand +little revolver in my bag and I can sleep like a feather when I want.” + +“Little? What size does it take?” + +“Oh, well, it’s a .320, if it comes to that. I prefer a moderate bore +myself.” + +Carrados opened a drawer of his desk and picked up half-a-dozen brass +cartridges. + +“When you get back, throw out the old ones and reload with these to +oblige me,” he said. “Don’t forget.” + +“Right,” assented Tulloch, examining them with interest; “but they look +just like mine. What are they?--something new?” + +“Not at all; but we know that they are charged and you can rely on them +going off if they are fired.” + +“What a chap you are,” declared Tulloch with something of the admiring +pity that summed up the general attitude towards Max Carrados. “Well, +for that matter, I must be going off myself, old man. I’m hoping for a +letter about that little job and if it comes I want to answer it +to-night. You’ve given me a fine time and we’ve had a great talk.” + +“I’m glad we met. And if you go away suddenly don’t leave it to chance +the next time you are back.” He did not seek to detain his guest, for he +knew that Tulloch was building somewhat on the South American +appointment. “Shall Harris run you home?” + +“Not a bit of it. I’ll enjoy a walk to the station, and these Tubes of +yours’ll land me within me loose-box by eleven. It’s a fine place, this +London, after all.” + +They had reached the front door, opened it and were standing for a +moment looking towards the yellow cloud that arched the west end of the +city like the mirage of a dawn. + +“Well, good-bye, old man,” said Tulloch heartily, and they shook hands. +At the touch an extraordinary impulse swept over Carrados to drag his +friend back into the house, to implore him to remain the night at all +events, or to do something to upset the arranged order of things for the +next few hours. With the cessation of physical contact the vehemence of +the possession dwindled away, but the experience, short as it was, left +him white and shaken. He could not trust himself to speak; he waved his +hand and, turning quickly, went back to the room where they had sat +together to analyse the situation and to determine how to act. Presently +he rang for his man. + +“Some notes were taken after that little touch in Holborn this +afternoon, Parkinson,” he said. “Have you the address of the leading +motor-bus driver among them?” + +“The London General, sir?” + +“Yes; the man who was the first to stop.” + +Parkinson produced his memorandum book and referred to the latest of its +entries. + +“He gave his private residence as 14 Cogg’s Lane, Brentford, sir.” + +“Brentford! That is fortunate. I am going to see him to-night if +possible. You will come with me, Parkinson. Tell Harris to get out the +car that is the most convenient. What is the time?” + +“Ten-seventeen, sir.” + +“We will start in fifteen minutes. In the meanwhile just reach me down +that large book labelled ‘Xavier’ from the top shelf there.” + +“Yes, sir. Very well, sir. I will convey your instructions to Harris, +sir.” + +It was perhaps rather late for a casual evening call, but +not, apparently, too late for Cogg’s Lane, Brentford. Mr +Fitzwilliam--Parkinson had infused a faint note of protest into his +voice when he mentioned the bus-driver’s name--Mr Fitzwilliam was out, +but Mrs Fitzwilliam received the visitor with conspicuous felicity and +explained the circumstances. Fitzwilliam was of a genial, even playful, +disposition, but he had come home brooding and depressed. Mrs +Fitzwilliam had not taken any notice of it--she put it down to his +feet--but by cajolery and innuendo she had persuaded him to go to the +picture palace to be cheered up, and as it was now on the turn of eleven +he might be expected back at any moment. In the meantime the lady had a +favourite niece who was suffering--as the doctor himself confessed--from +a very severe and unusual form of adenoids. Carrados disclosed the fact +that the subject of adenoids was one that interested him deeply. He +knew, indeed, of a case that was thought by the patient’s parents to be +something out of the way, but even it, he admitted, was commonplace by +the side of the favourite niece. The minutes winged. + +“That’s Fred,” said Mrs Fitzwilliam as the iron gate beyond the little +plot of beaten earth that had once been a garden gave its individual +note. “Seems strange that they should be so ignorant at a hospital, +doesn’t it?” + +“Hallo, what now?” demanded Mr Fitzwilliam, entering. + +Mrs Fitzwilliam made a sufficient introduction and waited for the +interest to develop. So far the point of Carrados’s visit had not +appeared. + +“I believe that you know something about motors?” inquired the blind +man. + +“Well, what if I do?” retorted the bus-driver. His attitude was +protective rather than intentionally offensive. + +“If you do, I should be glad if you would look at the engine of my car. +It got shaken, I fancy, in a slight accident that we had in Holborn this +afternoon.” + +“Oh!” The driver looked hard at Mr Carrados, but failed to get behind an +expression of mild urbanity. “Why didn’t you say so at first?” he +grumbled. “All right; I’ll trot round with you. Shan’t be long, missis.” + +He led the way out and closed the door behind them, not ceasing to +regard his visitor with a distrustful curiosity. At the gate he stopped, +having by that time brought his mind round to the requirements of the +situation, and faced Carrados. + +“Look here,” he said, “what’s up? You don’t want me to look at no +bloomin’ engine, you know. I don’t half like the whole bally business, +let me tell you. What’s the gaime?” + +“It’s a very simple game for you if you play it straightforwardly,” +answered Carrados. “I want to know just how much you had to do with +saving that man’s life in Holborn to-day.” + +Fitzwilliam instinctively fell back a step and his gaze on Carrados +quickened in its tensity. + +“What d’yer mean?” he demanded with a quality of apprehension in his +voice. + +“That is complicating the game,” replied Carrados mildly. “You know +exactly what I mean.” + +“And what if I do?” demanded the driver. “What have you got to do with +it, may I ask?” + +“That is very reasonable. I happened to be in the car following you. We +were scraped, but I am not making any claim for paint whatever happened. +I am satisfied that you did very well indeed in the circumstances, and +if a letter to your people--I know one of the directors--saying as much +would be of any use to you----” + +“Now we’re getting on, sir,” was the mollified admission. “You mustn’t +mind a bit of freshness, so to speak. You took me by surprise, that’s +what it was, and I’ve been wound up ever since that happened.” He +hesitated, and then flung out the question almost with a passionate +directness: “What was it, sir; in God’s name, what was it?” + +“What was it?” repeated the blind man’s level voice persuasively. + +“It wasn’t me. I couldn’t have done nothing. I didn’t see the man, not +in time to have an earthly. Then we stopped. Good Gawd, I’ve never felt +a stop like that before. It was as though a rubber band had tightened +and pulled us up against ten yards squoze into one, so that you didn’t +hardly know it. I hadn’t nothing to do with it. Not a brake was on, and +the throttle open and the engine running. There we were. And me half +silly.” + +“You did very well,” said Carrados soothingly. + +“I did nothing. If it had been left to me there’d have been a inquest. +You seem to have noticed something, sir. How do you work it out?” + +Carrados parried the question with a disingenuous allusion to the laws +of chance. He had not yet worked it out, but he was not disposed to lay +his astonishing conclusions, so far as they went, before the +bus-driver’s crude discrimination. He had learned what he wanted. With a +liberal acknowledgment of the service and a reiteration of his promise +to write, he bade Mr Fitzwilliam good-night and returned to his waiting +car. + +“Back home, Harris,” he directed. He had gone out with some intention of +including Hapsburg Square in his peregrination. He was now assured that +his anxiety was groundless. + +But the next morning all his confidence was shattered in a moment. It +was his custom before and during breakfast to read by touch the headings +of the various items in the newspapers and to mark for Greatorex’s later +reading such paragraphs as claimed his interest. Generally he could, +with some inconvenience, distinguish even the ordinary type by the same +faculty, but sometimes the inequality of pressure made this a laborious +process. There was no difficulty about the larger types, however, and +with a terrible misgiving finger-tip and brain had at once grasped the +significance of a prominent heading: + + FATAL GAS EXPLOSION + HAPSBURG SQUARE BOARDING-HOUSE IN FLAMES + +“Are you there, Parkinson?” he asked. + +Parkinson could scarcely believe his well-ordered ears. Not since the +early days of his affliction had Carrados found it necessary to ask such +a question. + +“Yes, sir, I’m here,” he almost stammered in reply. “I hope you are not +unwell, sir?” + +“I’m all right, thanks,” responded his master dryly--unable even then +not to discover some amusement in having for once scared Parkinson out +of his irreproachable decorum. “I was mentally elsewhere. I want you to +read me this paragraph.” + +“The one about Dr Tulloch, sir?” The name had caught the man’s eye at +once. “Dear, dear me, sir.” + +“Yes; go on,” said Carrados, with his nearest approach to impatience. + +“‘During the early hours of this morning,’” read Parkinson, “‘52 +Hapsburg Square was the scene of a gas explosion which was unhappily +attended by loss of life. Shortly after midnight the neighbourhood was +alarmed by the noise of a considerable explosion which appeared to blow +out the window and front wall of one of the upper bedrooms, but as the +part in question was almost immediately involved in flames it is +uncertain what really happened. The residents of the house, which is a +boarding establishment carried on by Miss Vole (a relative, we are +informed, of Archdeacon Vole of Worpsley), were quickly made aware of +their danger and escaped. The engines arrived within a few minutes of +the alarm and soon averted any danger of the fire spreading. When it was +possible to penetrate into the upper part of the house it was discovered +that the occupant of the bedroom where the explosion took place, a Dr +Tulloch who had only recently returned to this country from India, had +perished. Owing to the charred state of the body it is impossible to +judge how he died, but in all probability he was mercifully killed or at +least rendered unconscious by the force of the explosion.’ That is all, +sir.” + +“I ought to have kept him,” muttered Carrados reproachfully. “I ought to +have insisted. The thing has been full of mistakes.” He could discover +very little further interest in his breakfast and turned to the other +papers for possible enlargement of the details. “We shall have to go +down,” he remarked casually. “Say in half-an-hour. Tell Harris.” + +“Very well, sir.” + +Greatorex, just arrived for the day, and diffusing an atmosphere of easy +competence and inoffensively general familiarity, put his head in at the +door. + +“Morning, sir,” he nodded. “Tulloch’s here and wants to see you. Came in +with me. Hullo, Parkinson, seen a ghost?” + +“He hasn’t yet,” volunteered his master. “But we both expect to. Yes, +send him in here. Only one mistake the more, you see,” he added to his +servant. “And one the less,” he added to himself. + +“I might just as well have stayed, you know,” was Tulloch’s greeting. He +included the still qualmish Parkinson in his genial domination of the +room, and going across to his friend he dropped a weighty hand upon his +shoulder. + +“‘There are more things in heaven and earth than in your philosophy, +Horatio,’” he barbarously misquoted with significance. “There, you see, +Wynn, I can apply Shakespeare to the situation as well as you.” + +“Quite so,” assented Carrados. “In the meanwhile will you have some +breakfast?” + +“It’s what I came in the hopes of,” admitted the doctor. “That and being +burned out of hearth and home. I thought that I might as well quarter +myself on you for a couple of days. You’ve seen the papers?” + +His friend indicated the still open sheet. + +“Ah, that one. _The Morning Reporter_ gave me a better obituary. I often +had a sort of morbid fancy to know what they’d say about me afterwards. +It seemed unattainable, but, like most things, it’s a sad disappointment +when it comes. Six lines is the longest, Wynn, and they’ve got me degree +wrong.” + +“Whose was the body?” asked Carrados. + +Gravity descended upon Tulloch at the question. He looked round to make +sure that Parkinson had left the room. + +“No one will ever know, I’m hoping,” he replied. “He was charred beyond +recognition. But you know, Wynn, and I know and we can hold our +tongues.” + +“The Indian avenger, of course?” + +“Yes. I went round there early this morning expecting nothing and found +the place a wreck. One can only guess now what happened, but the +gas-bracket is just beneath that trap-door I told you of and there’s a +light kept burning in the passage outside. One of the half-pay men +brought me a nasty wavy dagger that had been picked up in the road. ‘One +of your Indian curiosities, I suppose, Dr Tulloch?’ he remarked. I let +it pass at that, for I was becoming cautious among so much devilment. +‘I’m afraid that there’s nothing else of yours left,’ he went on, ‘and +there wouldn’t have been this if it hadn’t been blown through the +window.’ He was quite right. I haven’t a thing left in the world but +this now celebrated Norfolk suit that I stand up in, and, as matters +are, I’m jolly well glad you didn’t give me time to change yesterday.” + +“Ah,” assented Carrados thoughtfully. “Still the Norfolk suit, of +course. Tell me, Jim--you had it in India?” + +“To be sure I had. It was new then. You know, one doesn’t always go +about there in white drill and a cork helmet, as your artists here seem +to imagine. It’s cold sometimes, I can tell you. This coat is warm; I +got very fond of it. You can’t understand one getting fond of a mere +suit, you with your fifty changes of fine raiment.” + +“Of course I can. I have a favourite jacket that I would not part from +for rubies, and it’s considerably more of an antique than yours. That’s +still a serviceable suit, Jim. Come and let me have a look at it.” + +“What d’ye mean?” said Tulloch, complying half reluctantly. “You’re +making fun of me little suit and it’s the only thing in the world that +stands between me and the entire.” + +“Come here,” repeated Carrados. “I am not in the least guying. I’m far +too serious. I am more serious, I think, than I have ever been in my +life before.” He placed the wondering doctor before him and proceeded to +run a light hand about the details of his garments, turning him round +until the process was complete. “You wore these clothes when the native +you call Calico came to you that night?” + +“It’s more than likely. The nights were cold.” + +Carrados seemed strangely moved. He got up, walked to the window, as his +custom was, for enlightenment, and then, after wandering about the room, +touching here and there an object indecisively, he unlocked a cabinet +and slid out a tray of silver coins. + +“You’ve never seen these, have you?” he asked with scanty interest. + +“No, what are they?” responded Tulloch, looking on. + +“Pagan art at its highest. The worship of the strong and beautiful.” + +“Worth a bit?” suggested Tulloch knowingly. + +“Not what they cost.” Carrados shot back the tray and paced the room +again. “You haven’t told me yet how you were preserved.” + +“How----?” + +“Last night. You know that you escaped death again.” + +“I suppose I did. Yes.... And do you know why I have been hesitating to +tell you?” + +“Why?” + +“Because you won’t believe me.” + +Carrados permitted himself to smile a shade. + +“Try,” he said laconically. + +“Well, of course, I quite intended to.... The sober truth is, Wynn, that +I forgot the address and could not get there. It was the silliest and +the simplest thing in the world. I walked to the station here, booked +for Russell Square and took a train. When I got out there I started off +and then suddenly pulled up. Where was I going? My mind, I found, on +that one point had developed a perfect blank. All the facts had +vanished. Drum my encephalon how I might, I could not recall Miss Vole, +52, or Hapsburg Square. Mark you, it wasn’t loss of memory in the +ordinary sense. I remembered everything else; I knew who I was and what +I wanted well enough. Of course the first thing I did was to turn out my +pockets. I had letters, certainly, but none to that address and nothing +else to help me. ‘Very well,’ I said, ‘it’s a silly game, but I’ll walk +round till I find it.’ Had again! I walked for half-an-hour, but I saw +nothing the faintest degree familiar. Then I saw ‘London Directory Taken +Here’ in a pub. window. ‘Good,’ I thought. ‘When I see the name it will +all come back again.’ I went in, had something and looked through the +‘Streets’ section from beginning to end.” He shook his head shrewdly. +“It didn’t work.” + +“Did it occur to you to ring me up? You’d given me the address.” + +“It did; and then I thought, ‘No, it’s midnight now’--it was by +then--‘and he may have turned in early and be asleep.’ Well, things had +got to such a pass that it seemed the simplest move to walk into the +first moderate hotel I came to, pay for my bed and tell them to wake me +at six, and that’s what I did. Now what do you make of that?” + +“That depends,” replied Carrados slowly. “The scientist would perhaps +hint at a telepathic premonition operating subconsciously through +receptive nerve centres. The sceptic would call it a lucky coincidence. +The Catholic--the devout Catholic--would claim another miracle.” + +“Oh, come now!” protested Tulloch. + +“Yes, come now,” struck in Carrados, rising with decision and moving +towards the door. “Come to my room and then you shall judge for +yourself. It’s too much for any one man to contemplate alone. Come on.” +He walked quickly across the hall to his study, dismissing Greatorex +elsewhere with a word, and motioned the mystified doctor to a chair. +Then he locked the door and sat down himself. + +“I want you to carry your mind back to that night in your tent when the +native Khaligar, towards whom you had done an imperishable service, +presented himself before you. By the inexorable ruling of his class he +was your bondsman in service until he had repaid you in kind. This, Jim, +you failed to understand as it stood vitally to him, for the whole +world, two pantheons and perhaps ten thousand years formed a great gulf +between your mind and his. You would not be repaid, and yet he wished to +die.” + +The doctor nodded. “I dare say it comes to that,” he said. + +“He could not die with this debt undischarged. And so, in the obscurity +of your tent, beneath your unsuspecting eyes, this conjurer did, as he +was satisfied, requite you. You thought you saw him wrap the relic in +its covering. You did not. You thought he put it back among his dress. +He did not. Instead, he slipped it dexterously between the lining and +the cloth of your own coat at the thick part of a band. You had seen him +do much cleverer things even in the open sunlight.” + +“You don’t say,” exclaimed Tulloch, springing to his feet, “that even +now--” + +“Wait!” cried the blind man warningly. “Don’t seek it yet. You have to +face a more stupendous problem first.” + +“What is that?” + +“Three times at least your life has been--as we may say--miraculously +preserved. It was not your doing, your expertness, my friend.... What is +this sacred relic that once was in its jewelled shrine on the high altar +of the great cathedral at Goa, that opulent archbishopric of the East to +which Catholic Portugal in the sixteenth century sent all that was most +effective of treasure, brain and muscle to conquer the body and soul of +India?” + +“You suggested that it might be the original relic to which Valasquez +had referred.” + +“Not now; only that the natives may have thought so. What would be more +natural than that an ignorant despoiler should assume the thing which he +found the most closely guarded and the most richly casketed to be the +object for which he himself would have the deepest veneration?” + +“Then I don’t follow you,” said Tulloch. + +“Because I have the advantage of having turned to the local and +historical records bearing on the circumstances since you first started +me,” Carrados replied. “For instance, in the year 1582 Akbar, who was a +philosopher and a humorist as well as a model ruler, sent an invitation +to the ‘wise men among the Franks’ at Goa to journey to Agra, there to +meet in public controversy before him a picked band of Mohammedan mullas +and prove the superiority of their faith. The challenge was accepted. +Abu-l-Fazl records the curious business and adds a very significant +detail. These Catholic priests, to cut the matter short in the spirit of +the age, offered to walk through a fiery furnace in the defence of their +belief. It came to nothing, because the other side backed out, but the +challenge is suggestive because, however fond the priesthood of those +times was of putting other people to the ordeal of fire and water, its +members were singularly modest about submitting to such tests +themselves. What mystery was there here, Tulloch? What had those priests +of Goa that made them so self-confident?” + +“This relic, you suggest?” + +“Yes, I do. But, now, what is that relic? A monkey’s or an ape-god’s +tooth, an iron-stained belemnite, the fragment of a pagan idol--you and +I can smile at that. We are Christians. No matter how unorthodox, no +matter how non-committal our attitude may have grown, there is upon us +the unconscious and hereditary influence of century after century of +blind and implicit faith. To you and to me, no less than to every member +of the more credent Church of Rome, to everyone who has listened to the +story as a little child, it is only conceivable that if miraculous +virtues reside in anything inanimate it must pre-eminently be in the +close accessories of that great world’s tragedy, when, as even secular +and unfriendly historians have been driven to admit, something out of +the order of nature did shake the heavens.” + +“But this,” articulated Tulloch with dry throat, leaning instinctively +forward from the pressure of his coat, “this--what is it, then?” + +“You described it as looking like a nail,” responded Carrados. “It is a +nail. Rusty, you said, and it could not well be otherwise than red with +rust. And old. Nearly nineteen hundred years old; quite, perhaps.” + +Tulloch came unsteadily to his feet and slowly slipping off his coat he +put it gently away on a table apart from where they sat. + +“Is it possible?” he asked in an awestruck whisper. “Wynn, is it--is it +really possible?” + +“It is not only possible,” he heard the blind man’s more composed voice +replying, “but in one aspect it is even very natural. Physically, we are +dealing with an historical fact. Somewhere on the face of the earth +these things must be enduring; scattered, buried, lost perhaps, but +still existent. And among the thousands of relics that the different +churches have made claim to it would be remarkable indeed if some at +least were not authentic. That is the material aspect.” + +“Yes,” assented Tulloch anxiously, “yes; that is simple, natural. But +the other side, Carrados--the things that we know have happened--what of +that?” + +“That,” replied Carrados, “is for each man to judge according to his +light.” + +“But you?” persisted Tulloch. “Are you convinced?” + +“I am offered a solution that explains everything when no other theory +will,” replied the blind man evasively. Then on the top of Tulloch’s +unsatisfied “Ah!” he added: “But there is something else that confronts +you. What are you going to do?” and his face was towards the table +across the room. + +“Have you thought of that?” + +“It has occurred to me. I wondered how you would act.” + +It was some time before either spoke again. Then Tulloch broke the +silence. + +“You can lend me some things?” he asked. + +“Of course.” + +“Then I will decide,” he announced with resolution. “Whatever we may +think, whatever might be urged, I cannot touch this thing; I dare not +even look on it. It has become too solemn, too awful, in my mind, to be +seen by any man again. To display it, to submit it to the test of what +would be called ‘scientific proof,’ to have it photographed and ‘written +up’--impossible, incredible! On the other hand, to keep it safely to +myself--no, I cannot do that either. You feel that with me?” + +The blind man nodded. + +“There is another seemly, reverent way. The opportunity offers. I found +a letter at the house this morning. I meant to tell you of it. I have +got the appointment that I told you of and in three days I start for +South America. I will take the coat just as it is, weight it beyond the +possibility of recovery and sink it out of the world in the deepest part +of the Atlantic; beyond controversy, and safe from falling to any +ignoble use. You can supply me with a box and lead. You approve of +that?” + +“I will help you,” said Carrados, rising. + + + THE END + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + Transcriber’s Notes + + +This file uses _underscores_ to indicate italic text. New original cover +art included with this ebook is granted to the public domain. + +The following changes and corrections have been made: + + • p. 37: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “Mr Marrable started + rather violently.” + • p. 39: Changed “fusilade” to “fusillade” in phrase “the fusillade + shrivelled away.” + • p. 40: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “Mr Marrable.... Lot 192, + _History and Antiquities of the County, etc._” + • p. 47: Changed “Dr Dillworthy” to “Mr Dillworthy” in phrase “What was + the next lot that Mr Dillworthy bought?” + • p. 60: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “Mr Carlyle did not pull + his man up in a few weeks.” + • p. 62: Changed “shread” to “shred” in phrase “did not leave behind + him one solitary shred of evidence.” + • p. 78: Added period after phrase “admitted Beedel modestly.” + • p. 108: Moved question mark inside closing single quotation mark in + phrase “‘What was?’ I asked.” + • p. 110: Added opening single quotation mark before phrase “It isn’t + since Tuesday, sir.” + • p. 123: Added em-dash after “monument” in phrase “the most important + monument--the Judge.” + • p. 148: Added closing double quotation mark after phrase “I have only + seen something in the _Indicator_.” + • p. 149: Removed period after “Mrs” in phrase “Mrs Dupreen was by no + means in easy circumstances.” + • p. 153: Changed “be” to “he” in phrase “Where had he bought it?” + • p. 158: Changed “Steet” to “Street” in phrase “the point nearest + Trenion Street.” + • p. 160: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “Mr Lightcraft will know + how to administer it.” + • p. 176: Changed “canont” to “cannot” in phrase “that this confident, + suspicious man cannot see her now.” + • p. 198: Added period after phrase “interposed his employer with + decision.” + • p. 205: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “I’ll tell you what it + is, Mr Belting.” + • p. 213: Changed “uprasied” to “upraised” in phrase “he said with + upraised hand.” + • p. 217: Changed single to double closing double quotation mark after + phrase “You haven’t given me the chance of playing host for a month + or more.” + • p. 223: Removed duplicate “a” in phrase “a piece of superfluous + honesty.” + • p. 229: Changed triple to double closing double quotation mark after + phrase “We’ve had no one from there anyway.” + • p. 234: Changed “the the” to “on the” in phrase “and then focussed on + the column.” + • p. 235: Added “of” in phrase “the mere act of sipping.” + • p. 247: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “declared Mr Carlyle with + warm approval as the door closed.” + • p. 250: Added opening double quotation mark before phrase “You seem + troubled, Parkinson.” + • p. 255: Changed “profund” to “profound” in phrase “the general + atmosphere of profound somnolence that enveloped the Metaphysical.” + • p. 262: Changed “Strathbane” to “Strathblane” in phrase “Carrados’s + car drew up at Strathblane Lodge.” + • p. 263: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “Mr Carrados happens to + be blind, Mr Spinola.” + • p. 268: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “If you had no conscience + you would be a dangerous opponent, Mr Carrados.” + • p. 276: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “you have been too clever + for an old man, Mr Carrados?” + • p. 263: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “you have surpassed the + dreams of Babbage, Mr Spinola.” + • p. 284: Added opening double quotation mark before phrase “Not + guilty, my lord!” + • p. 295: Added period after “Rev.” in phrase “The Rev. Byam Hosier, + the senior curate.” + • p. 318: Added period after phrase “One never knows what may happen + next.” + • p. 329: Changed “its” to “it” in phrase “and it protects from harm.” + • p. 330: Changed “that I do” to “than I do” in phrase “I expect that + you run more risks than I do.” + • p. 351: Changed “selfconfident” to “self-confident” in phrase “What + had those priests of Goa that made them so self-confident?” + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77788 *** diff --git a/77788-h/77788-h.htm b/77788-h/77788-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfb571d --- /dev/null +++ b/77788-h/77788-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14369 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + <head> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>The Eyes of Max Carrados | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 10%; } + h1 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; 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} + .c016 { margin-left: 2.78%; text-align: right; } + .c017 { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + .c018 { margin-left: 2.78%; text-indent: 0; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; + } + div.linegroup > :last-child { margin-bottom: 0; } + span.uppercase {text-transform:uppercase; } + .x-ebookmaker span.uppercase {text-transform:none; } + h1 {font-size:200%; } + h1 span.bigger {font-size:150%; } + .centered-div {display:table; + margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto; } + img.publisher-logo {width:3em; } + .sans-x {font-weight:bold; font-family:sans-serif; } + .transcribers-notes { width: 80%; margin: auto; padding: 0 1em; + color:black; background-color: #E3E4FA; border: 1px solid silver; + page-break-before:always;margin-top:4em; } + </style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77788 ***</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> +<div class='nf-center c000'> + <div>THE EYES OF MAX CARRADOS</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>ERNEST BRAMAH</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> +<div class='nf-center c000'> + <div><span class='large'><i>By the Same Author</i></span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>THE WALLET OF KAI LUNG</div> + <div class='line'>KAI LUNG’S GOLDEN HOURS</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div> + <h1 class='c002'>THE EYES OF<br><span class="bigger">MAX CARRADOS</span></h1> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> +<div class='nf-center c003'> + <div>BY</div> + <div><span class='xlarge'>ERNEST BRAMAH</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='centered-div'> + +<p class='c004'>NEW +<img class="publisher-logo" src="images/gdh-logo.jpg" alt="[GHD]"> +YORK</p> + +</div> +<div class='centered-div'> + +<p class='c005'>GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</p> + +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> +<div class='nf-center c000'> + <div>COPYRIGHT, 1924,</div> + <div>BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='centered-div'> + +<p class='c005'><img class="publisher-logo" src="images/ghd-cursive.jpg" alt="[GHD]"></p> + +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> +<div class='nf-center c000'> + <div><span class='xsmall'>THE EYES OF MAX CARRADOS</span></div> + <div><span class='xsmall'>—A—</span></div> + <div><span class='xsmall'>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div> + <h2 class='c006'>CONTENTS</h2> +</div> + +<table class='table0'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth12'> +<col class='colwidth75'> +<col class='colwidth12'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c007'> </td> + <td class='c008'> </td> + <td class='c009'><span class='xsmall'>PAGE</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c007'> </td> + <td class='c008'><a href='#introduction'><span class='sc'>Introduction</span></a></td> + <td class='c009'>vii</td> + </tr> + <tr><td colspan=3> </td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c007'><span class='xsmall'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td class='c008'> </td> + <td class='c009'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c007'>I</td> + <td class='c008'><a href='#chapter-1'><span class='sc'>The Virginiola Fraud</span></a></td> + <td class='c009'>33</td> + </tr> + <tr><td colspan=3> </td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c007'>II</td> + <td class='c008'><a href='#chapter-2'><span class='sc'>The Disappearance of Marie Severe</span></a></td> + <td class='c009'>66</td> + </tr> + <tr><td colspan=3> </td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c007'>III</td> + <td class='c008'><a href='#chapter-3'><span class='sc'>The Secret of Dunstan’s Tower</span></a></td> + <td class='c009'>106</td> + </tr> + <tr><td colspan=3> </td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c007'>IV</td> + <td class='c008'><a href='#chapter-4'><span class='sc'>The Mystery of the Poisoned Dish of Mushrooms</span></a></td> + <td class='c009'>138</td> + </tr> + <tr><td colspan=3> </td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c007'>V</td> + <td class='c008'><a href='#chapter-5'><span class='sc'>The Ghost at Massingham Mansions</span></a></td> + <td class='c009'>179</td> + </tr> + <tr><td colspan=3> </td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c007'>VI</td> + <td class='c008'><a href='#chapter-6'><span class='sc'>The Missing Actress Sensation</span></a></td> + <td class='c009'>215</td> + </tr> + <tr><td colspan=3> </td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c007'>VII</td> + <td class='c008'><a href='#chapter-7'><span class='sc'>The Ingenious Mr Spinola</span></a></td> + <td class='c009'>250</td> + </tr> + <tr><td colspan=3> </td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c007'>VIII</td> + <td class='c008'><a href='#chapter-8'><span class='sc'>The Kingsmouth Spy Case</span></a></td> + <td class='c009'>284</td> + </tr> + <tr><td colspan=3> </td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c007'>IX</td> + <td class='c008'><a href='#chapter-9'><span class='sc'>The Eastern Mystery</span></a></td> + <td class='c009'>321</td> + </tr> +</table> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_vii'>vii</span></div> +<div class="chapter" id="introduction"> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c006'>INTRODUCTION</h2> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_15_0_65 c010'><span class="uppercase">In</span> offering a series of stories which continue the +adventures of a group of characters already introduced +to the reading public, a writer is inevitably +at a certain disadvantage. In contriving their first +appearance he has been able to select both the occasion +and the moment which lend themselves most effectively +to his plan. He has begun at the beginning—or, at +least, at what, so far as you and he and the tale he has +to tell are concerned, must be accepted as the beginning. +Buttonholing you at the intersection of these +three lines of destiny he has, in effect, exclaimed: My +dear Reader! the very man I wished to see. I want to +introduce rather a remarkable character to you—Max +Carrados, whom you see approaching. You will notice +that he is blind—quite blind; but so far from that +crippling his interests in life or his energies, it has +merely impelled him to develop those senses which in +most of us lie half dormant and practically unused. +Thus you will understand that while he may be at a +disadvantage when you are at an advantage, he is at an +advantage when you are at a disadvantage. The alert, +slightly spoffish gentleman with the knowing look, who +accompanies him, is his friend Carlyle. He has a private +inquiry business now; formerly he was a solicitor, +but … (here the voice becomes discreetly inaudible) +… and having run up across Carrados again.… +And so on.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_viii'>viii</span>This is well enough once, but it should not be repeated. +One cannot begin at the beginning twice. In +any case, it does not dispose of an obvious dilemma: +those among prospective readers who are acquainted +with the first book do not need to be informed of the +how, when and wherefore of Carrados and his associates; +those who are not so acquainted (possibly even +a larger class) do need to be informed, and may resent +the omission. In the circumstances a word of explanation +where it can conveniently be avoided seems to offer +the least harmful course.</p> + +<p class='c011'><cite>Max Carrados</cite> was published in the spring of 1914. +It consisted of eight tales, each separate and complete +in itself, but connected (as are the nine of the present +volume) by the central figure of Carrados. The first +story, “The Coin of Dionysius,” cleared the necessary +ground. Carlyle, a private inquiry agent, who has +descended in the social scale owing to an irregularity—an +indiscretion rather than a crime—is very desirous +one evening of testing the genuineness of a certain rare +and valuable Sicilian tetradrachm, for upon its authenticity +an immediate arrest depends. It is too late at +night for him to get in touch with expert professional +opinion, but finally he is referred to a certain gifted +amateur, a Mr Max Carrados, who lives at Richmond. +To Richmond he accordingly proceeds, and is at once +recognized by Carrados as a former friend, Calling by +name. The recognition is not at first mutual, for +Carrados has also changed his name—he was formerly +Max Wynn—in order to qualify for a considerable +fortune, and he, like Carlyle, has altered in appearance +with passing years. More to the point, he has become +blind: “Literally … I was riding along a bridle-path +through a wood about a dozen years ago with a friend. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_ix'>ix</span>He was in front. At one point a twig sprang back—you +know how easily a thing like that happens. It just +flicked my eye—nothing to think twice about.… It +is called amaurosis.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carlyle fails to recognise Carrados because the latter +is an altered personality, with a different name, and +living in unexpected circumstances, but to the blind +man the change in Carlyle is negligible against the +identity of a remembered voice. They talk of old times +and of present times. Carlyle explains his business, +and Carrados confesses that the idea of criminal investigation +has always attracted him. Even yet, he thinks, +he might not be entirely out at it, for blindness has +unexpected compensations: “A new world to explore, +new experiences, new powers awakening; strange new +perceptions; life in the fourth dimension.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Not regarding the suggestion of co-operation seriously, +Carlyle puts the offer aside, but, later, Carrados +returns to it again. Then the private detective remembers +the object of his visit, the meanwhile forgotten +coin, and to settle the matter, and to demonstrate to +Carrados his helplessness (for the idea of the blind man +being an expert must, of course, have been someone’s +blunder), he slyly offers to put his friend on the track +of a mystery. “Yes,” he accordingly replied, with +crisp deliberation, as he recrossed the room; “yes, I +will, Max. Here is the clue to what seems to be a +rather remarkable fraud.” He put the tetradrachm +into his host’s hand. “What do you make of it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>For a few seconds Carrados handled the piece with +the delicate manipulation of his finger-tips, while +Carlyle looked on with a self-appreciative grin. Then +with equal gravity the blind man weighed the coin in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_x'>x</span>the balance of his hand. Finally he touched it with his +tongue.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well?” demanded the other.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Of course I have not much to go on, and if I was +more fully in your confidence I might come to another +conclusion——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, yes,” interposed Carlyle, with amused encouragement.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then I should advise you to arrest the parlour-maid, +Nina Brun, communicate with the police authorities +of Padua for particulars of the career of Helene +Brunesi, and suggest to Lord Seastoke that he should +return to London to see what further depredations have +been made in his cabinet.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle’s groping hand sought and found a +chair, on which he dropped blankly. His eyes were +unable to detach themselves for a single moment from +the very ordinary spectacle of Mr Carrados’s mildly +benevolent face, while the sterilised ghost of his now +forgotten amusement still lingered about his features.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good heavens!” he managed to articulate, “how +do you know?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Isn’t that what you wanted of me?” asked +Carrados suavely.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Don’t humbug, Max,” said Carlyle severely. +“This is no joke.” An undefined mistrust of his own +powers suddenly possessed him in the presence of this +mystery. “How do you come to know of Nina Brun +and Lord Seastoke?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You are a detective, Louis,” replied Carrados. +“How does one know these things?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The bottom having been thus knocked out of his +objection, Carlyle has no option but to promise +Carrados the reversion of “the next murder” that comes +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xi'>xi</span>his way. Actually, it is a case involving thirty-five +murders that redeems this pledge.</p> + +<p class='c011'>But in spite of every device of Carrados’s perspicuity +there is still the cardinal deficiency that he cannot <em>see</em>. +Whatever remains outside the range of four super-trained +senses, aided by that subtle and elusive perception +(every man in odd moments has surprised his own +mind in the act of throwing out faint-spun and wholly +forgotten tentacles of search towards it) called in vague +ignorance the “sixth sense”—all beyond these must be +for ever a <span lang="la"><i>terra incognita</i></span> to his knowledge. To remedy +this he has a personal attendant called Parkinson. +Carlyle ingenuously falls into a proposed test that +Carrados suggests—his powers of observation against +those of Parkinson. When it comes to actual specified +details the visitor finds that he only has a loose and +general idea of the appearance of the man who has +admitted him. On the other hand, when Parkinson is +called up he is able to run off a precise and categorical +description of Mr Carlyle—although his period of observation +had certainly not been the more favorable—from +the size and material of the caller’s boots, with a +button missing from the left foot, to the fashion and +fabric of his watch-chain. A very ordinary man of +strictly limited ability, he has, in fact, trained this one +faculty of detailed observation and retention to supply +his master’s need.</p> + +<p class='c011'>These three men—Carrados, Carlyle and Parkinson—are +the only characters of any prominence who are +carried over from the first book to the second. An +Inspector Beedel makes an occasional and unimportant +appearance in both. In the story called “The Mystery +of the Poisoned Dish of Mushrooms” a Mrs Bellmark +(niece to Carlyle) will be met; she is the lady whose +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xii'>xii</span>acquaintance Carrados formed in “The Comedy at +Fountain Cottage,” when a very opportune buried +treasure was unearthed in her suburban garden.</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>Every generation not unnaturally “fancies itself,” +and whatever is happening is therefore somewhat more +wonderful than anything that has ever happened before. +But for this present age there is, of course, a special +reason why the exploits of the sightless obtain prominence, +and why every inch won in the narrowing of the +gulf between the seeing and the blind is hailed almost +with the satisfaction of a martial victory. That the +general condition of the blind is being raised, that they +are, in the mass, more capable and infinitely less dependent +than at any period of the past, is undeniable, +and these things are plainly to the good; but when we +think that blind men individually do more surprising +feats and carry themselves more confidently in their +blindness than has ever been done before, we deceive +ourselves, in the superficiality that is common to the +times. The higher capacity under blindness is a form +of genius and, like other kinds of genius, it is not the +prerogative of any century or of any system. Judged +by this standard, Max Carrados is by no means a super-blind-man, +and although for convenience the qualities +of more than one blind prototype may have been +collected within a single frame, on the other hand +literary licence must be judged to have its limits, and +many of the realities of fact have been deemed too +improbable to be transferred to fiction. Carrados’s +opening exploit, that of accurately deciding an antique +coin to be a forgery, by the sense of touch, is far from +being unprecedented.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The curious and the incredulous may be referred to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xiii'>xiii</span>a little book, first published in 1820. This is entitled +<cite>Biography of the Blind, or the Lives of such as have +distinguished themselves as Poets, Philosophers, Artists, +&c.</cite>, and it is by <span class='sc'>James Wilson</span>, “Who has been Blind +from his Infancy.” From the authorities given (they +are stated in every case), it is obvious that these lives +and anecdotes are available elsewhere, but probably +in no other single volume is so much that is informing +and entertaining on this one subject brought together.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The coin incident finds its warrant in the biography +of <span class='sc'>Nicholas Saunderson</span>, LL.D., F.R.S., who was +born in Yorkshire in the year 1682. When about +twelve months old he lost not only his sight but the +eyes themselves from an attack of small-pox. In 1707 +he proceeded to Cambridge, where he appears to have +made some stir; at all events he was given his M.A. in +1711 by a special process and immediately afterwards +elected Lucasian Professor of Mathematics. Of his +lighter qualities Wilson says: “He could with great +nicety and exactness perceive the smallest degree of +roughness, or defect of polish, on a surface; thus, in a +set of Roman medals he distinguished the genuine from +the false, though they had been counterfeited with such +exactness as to deceive a connoisseur who had judged +from the eye. By the sense of touch also he distinguished +the least variation; and he has been seen in a +garden, when observations were making on the sun, to +take notice of every cloud that interrupted the observation, +almost as justly as others could see it. He could +also tell when anything was held near his face, or when +he passed by a tree at no great distance merely from +the different impulse of the air on his face. His ear was +also equally exact; he could readily distinguish the +fourth part of a note by the quickness of this sense; and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xiv'>xiv</span>could judge of the size of a room, and of his distance +from the wall. And if he ever walked over a pavement +in courts or piazzas which reflected sound, and was +afterwards conducted thither again, he could tell in +what part of the walk he had stood, merely by the note +it sounded.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Another victim to small-pox during infancy was <span class='sc'>Dr +Henry Moyes</span>, a native of Fifeshire, born during the +middle of the eighteenth century. “He was the first +blind man who had proposed to lecture on chemistry, +and as a lecturer he acquired great reputation; his +address was easy and pleasing, his language correct, +and he performed his experiments in a manner which +always gave great pleasure to his auditors.… Being +of a restless disposition, and fond of traveling, he, in +1785, visited America.… The following paragraph +respecting him appeared in one of the American newspapers +of that day:—‘The celebrated Dr Moyes, +though blind, delivered a lecture upon optics, in which +he delineated the properties of light and shade, and +also gave an astonishing illustration of the power of +touch. A highly polished plate of steel was presented +to him with the stroke of an etching tool so minutely +engraved on it that it was invisible to the naked eye, +and only discoverable by a powerful magnifying glass; +with his fingers, however, he discovered the extent, +and measured the length of the line. Dr Moyes informed +us that being overturned in a stage-coach one +dark rainy evening in England, and the carriage and +four horses thrown into a ditch, the passengers and +drivers, with two eyes apiece, were obliged to apply to +him, who had no eyes, for assistance in extricating the +horses. “As for me,” said he, “I was quite at home in +the dark ditch … now directing eight persons to pull +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xv'>xv</span>here, and haul there with all the dexterity and activity +of a man-of-war’s boatswain.”’”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='sc'>Thomas Wilson</span>, “the blind bell-ringer of Dumfries,” +also owed his affliction to small-pox in childhood. +At the mature age of twelve he was promoted to be +chief ringer of Dumfries. Says our biographer: “He +moreover excelled in the culinary art, cooking his +victuals with the greatest nicety; and priding himself +on the architectural skill he displayed in erecting a good +ingle or fire. In his domestic economy he neither had +nor required an assistant. He fetched his own water, +made his own bed, cooked his own victuals, planted and +raised his own potatoes; and, what is more strange +still, cut his own peats, and was allowed by all to keep +as clean a house as the most particular spinster in the +town. Among a hundred rows of potatoes he easily +found the way to his own; and when turning peats +walked as carefully among the hags of lochar moss as +those who were in possession of all their faculties. At +raising potatoes, or any other odd job, he was ever +ready to bear a hand; and when a neighbour became +groggy on a Saturday night, it was by no means an +uncommon spectacle to see Tom conducting him home +to his wife and children.… At another time, returning +home one evening a little after ten o’clock, he heard +a gentleman, who had just alighted from the mail, +inquiring the way to Colin, and Tom instantly offered +to conduct him thither. His services were gladly accepted, +and he acted his part so well that, although +Colin is three miles from Dumfries, the stranger did not +discover his guide was blind until they reached the end +of their journey.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Music, indeed, in some form, would seem to be the +natural refuge of the blind. Among the many who +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xvi'>xvi</span>have made it their profession, <span class='sc'>John Stanley</span> was one +of the most eminent. Born in 1713, he lost his sight +at the age of two, not from disease, but by falling on +a marble hearth, with a china basin in his hand. At +eleven he became organist of All-Hallows’, Bread +Street; at thirteen he was chosen from among many +candidates to fill a similar position at St Andrew’s, +Holborn. Eight years later “the Benchers of the +Honorable Society of the Inner Temple elected him +one of their organists.” The following was written by +one of Stanley’s old pupils:—“It was common, just as +the service of St Andrew’s Church, or the Temple, was +ended, to see forty or fifty organists at the altar, waiting +to hear his last voluntary; and even Handel himself I +have frequently seen at both of those places. In short, +it must be confessed that his extempore voluntaries +were inimitable, and his taste in composition wonderful. +I was his apprentice, and I remember, the first year I +went to him, his occasionally playing (for his amusement +only) at billiards, mississipie, shuffle-board, and +skittles, at which games he constantly beat his competitors. +To avoid prolixity I shall only mention his +showing me the way, both on horseback and on foot, +through the private streets in Westminster, the intricate +passages of the city, and the adjacent villages, places at +which I had never been before. I remember also his +playing very correctly all Corelli’s and Geminiani’s +twelve solos on the violin. He had so correct an ear +that he never forgot the voice of any person he had +once heard speak, and I myself have divers times been +a witness of this. In April, 1779, as he and I were +going to Pall Mall, to the late Dr Boyce’s auction, a +gentleman met us who had been in Jamaica twenty +years, and in a feigned voice said, ‘How do you do, Mr +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xvii'>xvii</span>Stanley?’ when he, after pausing a little, said, ‘God +bless me, Mr Smith, how long have you been in England?’ +If twenty people were seated at a table near +him, he would address them all in regular order, without +their situations being previously announced to him. +Riding on horseback was one of his favorite exercises; +and towards the conclusion of his life, when he lived at +Epping Forest, and wished to give his friends an airing, +he would often take them the pleasantest road and +point out the most agreeable prospects.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>All the preceding, it will be noticed, became blind +early in life, and this would generally seem to be a +necessary condition towards the subject acquiring an +exceptional mastery over his affliction. At all events, +of the twenty-six biographies (including his own) in +which Wilson provides the necessary data, only six lose +their sight later than youth, and several of these—as +<span class='sc'>Milton</span> and <span class='sc'>Euler</span>, for instance—are included for +their eminence pure and simple and not because they +are remarkable as blind men. Perhaps even <span class='sc'>Huber</span> +must be included in this category, for his marvellous research +work among bees (he it was who solved the +mystery of the queen bee’s aerial “nuptial flight”) +seems to have been almost entirely conducted through +the eyes of his wife, his son, and a trained attendant, +and not to depend in any marked way on the compensatory +development of other senses. Of the twenty +youthful victims, the cause of blindness is stated in +fourteen cases, and of these fourteen no fewer than ten +owe the calamity to small-pox.</p> + +<p class='c011'>To this general rule of youthful initiation Dr <span class='sc'>Hugh +James</span> provides an exception. He was born at St Bees +in 1771, and had already been practising for several +years when he became totally blind at the age of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xviii'>xviii</span>thirty-five. In spite of this, he continued his ordinary +work as a physician, even with increased success. +If Dr James’s record under this handicap is less showy +than that of many others, it is remarkable for the +mature age at which he successfully adapted himself +to a new life. He died at forty-five, still practising; +indeed he died of a disease contracted at the bedside of +a needy patient.</p> + +<p class='c011'>But for energy, resource and sheer bravado under +blindness, no age and no country can show anything to +excel the record of <span class='sc'>John Metcalf</span>—“Blind Jack of +Knaresborough” (1717-1810). At six he lost his sight +through small-pox, at nine he could get on pretty well +unaided, at fourteen he announced his intention of +disregarding his affliction thenceforward and of behaving +in every respect as a normal human being. It is +true that immediately on this brave resolve he fell into +a gravel pit and received a serious hurt while escaping, +under pursuit, from an orchard he was robbing, but +fortunately this did not affect his self-reliance. At +twenty he had made a reputation as a pugilist.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Metcalf’s exploits are too many and diverse to be +more than briefly touched upon. In boyhood he became +an expert swimmer, diver, horse-rider and, indeed, +an adept in country sports generally. While yet +a boy he was engaged to find the bodies of two men +who had been drowned in a local river and swept away +into its treacherous depths; he succeeded in recovering +one. He followed the hounds regularly, won some +races, and had at that time an ambition to become a +jockey. He was also a very good card-player (for +stakes), a professional violinist, and a trainer of fighting-cocks. +All through life there was a streak of jocosity, +even of devilment, in his nature. Twenty-one +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xix'>xix</span>found him very robust, just under six feet two high, +and as ready with his tongue as with his hands and feet. +The following year he learned that his sweetheart was +being married by her parents to a more eligible rival. +Metcalf eloped with her on the night before the wedding +and married her himself the next day. From +Knaresborough, where they set up house, he walked to +London and back, beating the coach on the return +journey.</p> + +<p class='c011'>On the outbreak of the ’45 he started recruiting for +the King and in two days had enlisted one hundred and +forty men. 64 of these, Metcalf playing at +their head, marched into Newcastle, where they were +drafted into Pulteney’s regiment. With them Metcalf +took part in the battle of Falkirk, and in other engagements +down to Culloden. After Culloden he returned +to Knaresborough and became horse-dealer, cotton and +worsted merchant, and general smuggler. A little later +he did well in army contract work, and then started to +run a stage-coach between York and Knaresborough, +driving it himself both summer and winter.</p> + +<p class='c011'>His extensive journeyings and his coach work had +made the blind man familiar, in a very special way, +with the roads and the land between them, and in 1765, +at the age of forty-eight, he came into his true vocation—that +of road construction. It is unnecessary to +follow his career in this development; it is enough to +say that during the next twenty-seven years he constructed +some one hundred and eighty miles of road. +Much of it was over very difficult country, some of it, +indeed, over country which up to that time had been +deemed impossible, but all of it was well made. His +plans did not always commend themselves in advance +to the authorities. For such a contingency Metcalf had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xx'>xx</span>a very reasonable proposal, “Let me make the road +my way, and if it is not perfectly satisfactory when +finished I will pull it all to pieces and, without extra +charge, make it your way.” He had been over the +ground in his very special way; of this a Dr Bew, who +knew him, wrote: “With the assistance only of a long +staff, I have several times met this man traversing +roads, ascending steep and rugged heights, exploring +valleys and investigating their extent, form and situation +so as to answer his designs in the best manner.… +He was alone as usual.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Remarkable to the end, John Metcalf reached his +ninety-fourth year and left behind him ninety great-grandchildren.</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>It would be easy to multiply appropriate instances +from Wilson’s book, but bulk is not the object. Nor +can his <cite>Anecdotes of the Blind</cite> be materially drawn +upon, although it is impossible to resist alluding to two +delightful cases where blind men detected blindness in +horses after the animals had been examined and passed +by ordinary experts. In one instance suspicion arose +from the sound of the horse’s step in walking, “which +implied a peculiar and unusual caution in the manner +of putting down his feet.” In the other case the blind +man, relying solely on his touch, “felt the one eye to +be colder than the other.” These two anecdotes are +credited to Dr Abercrombie; Scott, in a note to <cite>Peveril +of the Peak</cite> (“Mute Vassals”), recounts a similar case, +where the blind man discovered the imperfection by +touching the horse’s eyes sharply with one hand, while +he placed the other over its heart and observed that +there was no increase of pulsation.</p> + +<p class='c011'>One point in the capacity of the blind is frequently +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxi'>xxi</span>in dispute—the power to distinguish color. Even so +ingenious a man as the Nicholas Saunderson already +mentioned not only could gain no perception of color +himself, but used to say that “it was pretending to +impossibilities.” Mr J. A. Macy, who edited Miss +Helen Keller’s book, <cite>The Story of my Life</cite>—an experience +that ought surely to have effaced the word +“impossible” from his mind in connection with the +blind—makes the bold statement: “No blind person +can tell colour.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Three instances of those for whom this power has +been claimed are all that can be included here. The +reader must attach so much credibility to them as he +thinks fit:</p> + +<p class='c011'>1. From Wilson’s <cite>Biography</cite>, as <span lang="la"><i>ante</i></span>:</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The late family tailor (<span class='sc'>Macguire</span>) of Mr +M‘Donald, of Clanronald, in Inverness-shire, lost his +sight fifteen years before his death, yet he still continued +to work for the family as before, not indeed with +the same expedition, but with equal correctness. It is +well known how difficult it is to make a tartan dress, +because every stripe and colour (of which there are +many) must fit each other with mathematical exactness; +hence even very few tailors who enjoy their sight +are capable of executing that task.… It is said that +Macguire could, by the sense of touch, distinguish all +the colours of the tartan.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>2. From the <cite>Dictionary of National Biography</cite>:</p> + +<p class='c011'>“<span class='sc'>M‘Avoy, Margaret</span> (1800-1820), blind lady, was +born at Liverpool of respectable parentage on 28 June +1800. She was of a sickly constitution, and became +totally blind in June 1816. Her case attracted considerable +attention from the readiness with which she +could distinguish by her touch the colours of cloth, silk, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxii'>xxii</span>and stained glass; she could accurately describe, too, +the height, dress, bearing, and other characteristics of +her visitors; and she could even decipher the forms of +letters in a printed book or clearly written manuscript +with her fingers’ ends, so as to be able to read with +tolerable facility. Her needlework was remarkable for +its extreme neatness. Within a few days of her death +she wrote a letter to her executor. She died at Liverpool +on 18 August 1820.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>3. From <cite>The Daily Telegraph</cite>, 29th April 1922:</p> + +<p class='c011'>“American scientists are deeply interested in the +discovery of a young girl of seventeen, <span class='sc'>Willetta +Huggins</span>, who, although totally blind and deaf, can +‘see and hear’ perfectly through a supernormal sense of +smell and touch. Miss Huggins, who has been quite +deaf since she was ten years old, and totally blind since +she was fifteen, demonstrated to the satisfaction of +physicians and scientists that she can hear perfectly +over the telephone by placing her finger-tips upon the +receiver and listening to conversation with friends by +placing her fingers on the speakers’ cheeks. She attends +lectures and concerts, and hears by holding a thin +sheet of paper between her fingers directed broadside +towards the volume of sound, and reads newspaper +headlines by running her finger-tips over large type. +She discerns colours by odours, and before the Chicago +Medical Society recently she separated several skeins +of wool correctly and declared their colours by smelling +them, and also recognised the various colours in a +neck-tie.”</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>The case of Miss <span class='sc'>Helen Keller</span> has already been +referred to. In America that case has become classic; +indeed in its way the life of Miss Keller is almost as +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxiii'>xxiii</span>remarkable as that of John Metcalf, but, needless to +say the way is a very different one. Her book, <cite>The +Story of My Life</cite>, is a very full and engrossing account +of her education (in this instance “life” and “education” +are interchangeable) from “the earliest time” +until shortly after her entry into Radcliffe College in +1900, she then being in her twenty-first year. The +book consists of three parts: (1) her autobiography; +(2) her letters; (3) her biography from external +sources, chiefly by the account of Miss Sullivan, who +trained her.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The difficulty here was not merely blindness. When +less than two years old not only sight, but hearing, and +with hearing speech, were all lost. Her people were +well-to-do, and skilled advice was frequently obtained, +but no improvement came. As the months and the +years went on, intelligent communication between the +child and the world grew less, while a naturally impulsive +nature deepened into sullenness and passion in +the face of a dimly realised “difference,” and of her +inability to understand and to be understood. When +Miss Sullivan came to live with the Kellers in 1887, on +a rather forlorn hope of being able to do something +with Helen, the child was six, and relapsing into primitive +savagery. The first—and in the event the one and +only—problem was that of opening up communication +with the stunted mind, of raising or piercing the black +veil that had settled around it four years before.</p> + +<p class='c011'>A month after her arrival Miss Sullivan wrote as +follows:—“I must write you a line this morning because +something very important has happened. Helen +has taken the second great step in her education. She +has learned that <em>everything has a name, and that the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxiv'>xxiv</span>manual alphabet is the key to everything she wants to +know</em>.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In a previous letter I think I wrote you that ‘mug’ +and ‘milk’ had given Helen more trouble than all the +rest. She confused the nouns with the verb ‘drink.’ +She didn’t know the word for ‘drink,’ but went through +the pantomime of drinking whenever she spelled ‘mug’ +or ‘milk.’ This morning, while she was washing, she +wanted to know the name for ‘water.’ When she wants +to know the name of anything, she points to it and pats +my hand. I spelled ‘w-a-t-e-r’ and thought no more +about it until after breakfast. Then it occurred to me +that with the help of this new word I might succeed in +straightening out the ‘mug-milk’ difficulty. We went +out to the pump-house, and I made Helen hold her mug +under the spout while I pumped. As the cold water +gushed forth, filling the mug, I spelled ‘w-a-t-e-r’ in +Helen’s free hand. The word coming so close upon the +sensation of cold water rushing over her hand seemed to +startle her. She dropped the mug and stood as one +transfixed. A new light came into her face. She +spelled ‘water’ several times. Then she dropped on the +ground and asked for its name and pointed to the +pump and the trellis, and suddenly turning round she +asked for my name. I spelled ‘teacher.’ Just then the +nurse brought Helen’s little sister into the pump-house, +and Helen spelled ‘baby’ and pointed to the nurse. All +the way back to the house she was highly excited, and +learned the name of every object she touched, so that in +a few hours she had added thirty new words to her +vocabulary. Here are some of them: door, open, shut, +give, go, come, and a great many more.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“<i>P.S.</i>—I didn’t finish my letter in time to get it +posted last night, so I shall add a line. Helen got up +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxv'>xxv</span>this morning like a radiant fairy. She has flitted from +object to object, asking the name of everything and +kissing me for very gladness. Last night when I got in +bed, she stole into my arms of her own accord and +kissed me for the first time, and I thought my heart +would burst, so full was it of joy.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Seven months later we have this characteristic +sketch. It may not be very much to the point here, but +it would be difficult to excel its peculiar quality: “We +took Helen to the circus, and had ‘the time of our lives!’ +The circus people were much interested in Helen, and +did everything they could to make her first circus a +memorable event. They let her feel the animals whenever +it was safe. She fed the elephants, and was allowed +to climb up on the back of the largest, and sit in +the lap of the ‘Oriental Princess’ while the elephant +marched majestically around the ring. She felt some +young lions. They were as gentle as kittens; but I told +her they would get wild and fierce as they grew older. +She said to the keeper: ‘I will take the baby lions +home and teach them to be mild.’ The keeper of the +bears made one big black fellow stand on his hind legs +and hold out his great paw to us, which Helen shook +politely. She was greatly delighted with the monkeys +and kept her hand on the star performer while he went +through his tricks, and laughed heartily when he took +off his hat to the audience. One cute little fellow stole +her hair-ribbon, and another tried to snatch the flowers +out of her hat. I don’t know who had the best time, +the monkeys, Helen, or the spectators. One of the +leopards licked her hands, and the man in charge of the +giraffes lifted her up in his arms so that she could feel +their ears and see how tall they were. She also felt a +Greek chariot, and the charioteer would have liked to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxvi'>xxvi</span>take her round the ring; but she was afraid of ‘many +swift horses.’ The riders and clowns and rope-walkers +were all glad to let the little blind girl feel their costumes +and follow their motions whenever it was possible, +and she kissed them all, to show her gratitude. +Some of them cried, and the Wild Man of Borneo +shrank from her sweet little face in terror. She has +talked about nothing but the circus ever since.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>So far there is nothing in this case very material to +the purpose of this Introduction. The story of Helen +Keller is really the story of the triumph of Miss Sullivan, +showing how, with infinite patience and resource, +she presently brought a naturally keen and versatile +mind out of bondage and finally led it, despite all obstacles, +to the full attainment of its originally endowed +powers. But the last resort of the blind—some of them—is +the undeterminate quality to which the expression +“sixth sense” has often been applied. On this subject, +Helen being about seven years old at this time, Miss +Sullivan writes: “On another occasion while walking +with me she seemed conscious of the presence of her +brother, although we were distant from him. She +spelled his name repeatedly and started in the direction +in which he was coming.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“When walking or riding she often gives the names +of the people we meet almost as soon as we recognise +them.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>And a year later:</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I mentioned several instances where she seemed to +have called into use an inexplicable mental faculty; +but it now seems to me, after carefully considering the +matter, that this power may be explained by her perfect +familiarity with the muscular variations of those with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxvii'>xxvii</span>whom she comes into contact, caused by their emotions.… +One day, while she was walking out with her +mother and Mr Anagnos, a boy threw a torpedo, which +startled Mrs Keller. Helen felt the change in her +mother’s movements instantly, and asked, ‘What are +we afraid of?’ On one occasion, while walking on the +Common with her, I saw a police officer taking a man +to the station-house. The agitation which I felt evidently +produced a perceptible physical change; for +Helen asked excitedly, ‘What do you see?’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A striking illustration of this strange power was +recently shown while her ears were being examined by +the aurists in Cincinnati. Several experiments were +tried, to determine positively whether or not she had +any perception of sound. All present were astonished +when she appeared not only to hear a whistle, but also +an ordinary tone of voice. She would turn her head, +smile, and act as though she had heard what was said. +I was then standing beside her, holding her hand. +Thinking that she was receiving impressions from me, +I put her hands upon the table, and withdrew to the +opposite side of the room. The aurists then tried their +experiments with quite different results. Helen remained +motionless through them all, not once showing +the least sign that she realised what was going on. At +my suggestion, one of the gentlemen took her hand, and +the tests were repeated. This time her countenance +changed whenever she was spoken to, but there was not +such a decided lighting up of the features as when I +held her hand.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In the account of Helen last year it was stated that +she knew nothing about death, or the burial of the +body; yet on entering a cemetery for the first time in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxviii'>xxviii</span>her life she showed signs of emotion—her eyes actually +filling with tears.…</p> + +<p class='c011'>“While making a visit at Brewster, Massachusetts, +she one day accompanied my friend and me through +the graveyard. She examined one stone after another, +and seemed pleased when she could decipher a name. +She smelt of the flowers, but showed no desire to pluck +them; and, when I gathered a few for her, she refused +to have them pinned on her dress. When her attention +was drawn to a marble slab inscribed with the name +<span class='sc'>Florence</span> in relief, she dropped upon the ground as +though looking for something, then turned to me with +a face full of trouble, and asked, ‘Where is poor little +Florence?’ I evaded the question, but she persisted. +Turning to my friend, she asked, ‘Did you cry loud for +poor little Florence?’ Then she added: ‘I think she is +very dead. Who put her in big hole?’ As she continued +to ask these distressing questions, we left the cemetery. +Florence was the daughter of my friend, and was a +young lady at the time of her death; but Helen had +been told nothing about her, nor did she even know that +my friend had had a daughter. Helen had been given +a bed and carriage for her dolls, which she had received +and used like any other gift. On her return to the +house after her visit to the cemetery, she ran to the +closet where these toys were kept, and carried them to +my friend, saying, ‘They are poor little Florence’s.’ +This was true, although we were at a loss to understand +how she guessed it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Muscular variation” would rather seem to be capable +of explaining away most of the occult phenomena +if this is it. But at all events the latest intelligence +of Miss Keller is quite tangible and undeniably “in the +picture.” According to <cite>Who’s Who in America</cite>, she +<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxix'>xxix</span>“Appears in moving picture-play, <cite>Deliverance</cite>, based on +her autobiography.” This, doubtless, is another record +in the achievements of the blind: Miss Keller has become +a “movie.”</p> + +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c000'> + <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span><span class='xlarge'>THE EYES OF</span></div> + <div><span class='xxlarge'>MAX CARRADOS</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter' id='chapter-1'> + +<div> + <h2 class='c006'>I<br> <br>The Virginiola Fraud</h2> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_15_0_65 c010'><span class="uppercase">If</span> there was one thing more than another about +Max Carrados that came as a continual surprise, +even a mild shock, to his acquaintances, it was the +wide and unrestricted scope of his amusements. Had +the blind man displayed a pensive interest in chamber +music, starred by an occasional visit to the opera, +taken a daily walk in the park on his attendant’s arm, +and found his normal recreation in chess or in being +read to, the routine would have seemed an eminently +fit and proper one. But to call at The Turrets and +learn that Carrados was out on the river punting, or to +find him in his gymnasium, probably with the gloves +on, outraged one’s sense of values. The only extraordinary +thing in fact about his recreations was their ordinariness. +He frequently spent an afternoon at +Lord’s when there was the prospect of a good game +being put up; he played golf, bowls, croquet and cards; +fished in all waters, and admitted that he had never +missed the University Boat Race since the great finish +<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>of ’91. When he walked about the streets anywhere +within two miles of his house he was quite independent +of any guidance, and on one occasion he had saved a +mesmerized girl’s life on Richmond Bridge by dragging +her into one of the recesses just in time to escape an +uncontrollable dray that had jumped the kerb.</p> + +<p class='c011'>This prelude is by way of explaining the attitude of a +certain Mr Marrable whom Carrados knew, as he knew +a hundred strange and useful people. Marrable had +chambers in the neighbourhood of Piccadilly which he +furnished and decorated on a lavish and expensive +scale. His bric-à-brac, pictures, books and appointments, +indeed, constituted the man’s means of living, +for he was one of the best all-round judges of art and +the antique in London, and with a nonchalant air of +indifference he very pleasantly and profitably lounged +his way through life on the honey extracted from one +facile transaction after another. Living on his wits in +a strictly legitimate sense, he enjoyed all the advantages +of being a dealer without the necessity of maintaining +a place of business. It was not even necessary +for him to find “bargains” in the general sense, for +buying in the ordinary market and selling in a very +special and restricted one disclosed a substantial margin. +This commercial system, less rare than one might +imagine, involved no misrepresentation: his wealthy +and exclusive clients were quite willing to pay the +difference for the <span lang="fr"><i>cachet</i></span> of Mr Marrable’s connoisseurship +and also, perhaps, for the amiable reluctance with +which he carried on his operations.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The business that took Carrados to the amateur dealer’s +rooms one day in April has nothing to do with this +particular incident. It was quite friendly and satisfactory +on both sides, but it was not until Carrados rose +<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>to leave that the tangent of the visit touched the circle +of the <cite>Virginiola</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am due at Gurnard’s at about three-thirty,” remarked +Marrable, glancing at a Louis XVI. ormolu +clock for which he had marked off a certain musical +comedy countess at two hundred and fifty guineas. +“Your way at all?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Gurnard & Lane’s—the auctioneers?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes. They have a book sale on this afternoon.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I hope I haven’t been keeping you,” apologised +Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, not at all. There is nothing I want among the +earlier lots.” He picked up a catalogue from a satinwood +desk in which Mademoiselle Mars had once kept +her play-bills and glanced down the pages. “No. 191 +is the first I have marked: <cite>An Account of the Newly +Discovered Islands of Sir George Sommers, called +‘Virginiola.’</cite> You aren’t a competitor, by the way?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No,” replied Carrados; “but if you don’t mind I +should like to go with you.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Marrable looked at him with slightly suspicious +curiosity.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You’d find it uncommonly dull, surely, seeing nothing,” +he remarked.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I generally contrive to extract some interest from +what is going on,” said Carrados modestly. “And as I +have never yet been at a book sale——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, come, by all means,” interposed the other. “I +shall be very glad of your company. Only I was surprised +for the moment at the idea. I should warn you, +however, that it isn’t anything great in the way of a +dispersal—no Caxtons or first-folio Shakespeares. Consequently +there will be an absence of ducal bibliophiles +<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>and literary Cabinet ministers, and we shall have a +crowd of more or less frowsy dealers.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>They had walked down into the street as they conversed. +Marrable held up a finger to the nearest taxi-cab +on an adjacent rank, opened the door for Carrados, +and gave the driver the address of the auction rooms of +which he had spoken.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t expect to get very much,” he speculated, +turning over the later pages of the catalogue, which he +still carried in his hand. “I’ve marked a dozen lots, +but I’m not particularly keen on half of them. But I +should certainly like to land the <cite>Virginiola</cite>.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is rare, I suppose?” inquired Carrados. Indifferent +to books from the bibliophile’s standpoint, he was +able to feel the interest that one collector is generally +willing to extend to the tastes of another.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” assented Marrable with weighty consideration. +“Yes. In a way it is extremely rare. But this +copy is faulty—the Dedication and Address pages are +missing. That will bring down the bidding enormously, +and yet it is just the defect that makes it attractive +to me.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>For a moment he was torn between the secretiveness +bred of his position and a human desire to expound his +shrewdness. The weakness triumphed.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A few months ago,” he continued, “I came cross +another copy of the <cite>Virginiola</cite> among the lumber of a +Bristol second-hand book-dealer’s stock. It was altogether +a rotten specimen—both covers gone, scores of +pages ripped away, and most of those that remained +appallingly torn and dirty. It was a fragment in fact, +and I was not tempted even at the nominal guinea that +was put upon it. But now——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Quite so,” agreed Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>“The first few pages were just the scrap that was +presentable. I have a wonderful memory for details +like that. The pages I want were discoloured, but they +were sound. Sunshine or a chloride of lime bath will +restore them to condition. If I get <em>this</em> <cite>Virginiola</cite> I +shall run down to Bristol to-morrow.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I congratulate you,” said Carrados. “Unless, of +course, your Bristol friend runs up to London to-day!”</p> + +<p class='c011'><a id='tn-mrmarrable'></a>Mr Marrable started rather violently. Then he +shook his head with a knowing look.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No; he won’t do that. He is only a little back-street +huckster. True, if he found out that a <cite>Virginiola</cite> +short of the pages he possesses was being sold he might +have written to a London dealer, but he won’t find out. +For some reason they have overlooked the defect in +cataloguing. Of course every expert will spot the omission +at once, as I did this morning, and the book will be +sold as faulty, but if my Bristol friend, as you call him, +did happen to see a catalogue there would be nothing +to suggest any profitable opening to him.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Splendid,” admitted the blind man. “What would +a perfect <cite>Virginiola</cite> be worth?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Auction price? Oh, about five hundred guineas.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And to-day’s copy?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah, that’s more difficult ground. You see, every +perfect copy is alike, but every imperfect copy is different. +Well, say anything from a hundred and fifty to +three hundred, according to who wants it. I shall be +very content to take it half-way.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Two hundred and twenty-five? Yes, I suppose so. +Five hundred, less two twenty-five plus one leaves two +hundred and seventy-four guineas to the good. You +shall certainly pay for the taxi!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, I don’t mind standing the taxi,” declared Mr +<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>Marrable magniloquently, “but don’t pin me down to +five hundred—that’s the auction price. I should want a +trifle above—if I decided to let the book go out of my +own library, that is to say. Probably I should keep it. +Well, here we are.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The cab had drawn to the kerb opposite the door of +Messrs Gurnard’s unpretentious frontage. Mr Marrable +piloted his friend into the saleroom and to a vacant +chair by the wall, and then went off to watch the +fray at closer quarters. Carrados heard the smooth-tongued +auctioneer referring to an item as No. 142, and +for the next fifty lots he followed the strangely unexciting +progress of the sale with his own peculiar speculative +interest.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Lot 191,” announced the easy, untiring voice. “<cite>An +Account of the Newly Discovered Islands, etc.</cite>” At +last the atmosphere pulsed to a faint thrill of expectation. +“Unfortunately we had not the book before us +when the catalogue was drawn up. Lot 191 is imperfect +and is sold not subject to return; a very desirable +volume all the same. What may I say for Lot 191, +please? <cite>An Account, etc.</cite>, in original leather, faulty, +and not subject to return.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>As Mr Marrable had indicated, the defective <cite>Virginiola</cite> +occupied a rather special position. Did anyone +else want it? was in several minds; and if so, how much +did he want it? Everyone waited until at last the +question seemed to fine down into: Did <em>anyone</em> want +it?</p> + +<p class='c011'>“May I say two hundred guineas?” suggested the +auctioneer persuasively.</p> + +<p class='c011'>A large, heavy-faced man, who might have been a +cattle-dealer from the North by every indication that +his appearance gave, opened the bidding. He, at any +<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>rate, could have dissipated the uncertainty and saved +the room the waiting. Holding, as he did, two commissions, +he was bound to make the price a point above +the lower of the orders.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A hundred and twenty-one pounds.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Guineas,” came back like a slap from across the +tables.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A hundred and twenty-eight pounds.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Guineas.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A hundred and thirty-five.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Guineas.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A hundred and fifty.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Guineas.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The duel began to resemble the efforts of some unwieldy +pachyderm to shake off the attack of a nimble +carnivore by fruitless twists and plunges. But now +other voices, nods and uplifted eyebrows joined in, +complicating a direct issue, and the forked arithmetic +played in among pounds and guineas with bewildering +iteration. Then, as suddenly as it had grown, <a id='tn-fusillade'></a>the +fusillade shrivelled away, leaving the 2 original +antagonists like two doughty champions emerging +from a mêlée.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Two hundred and thirty.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Guineas.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Two hundred and fifty.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Guineas.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Two hundred and seventy.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>There was no response. The large man in the heavy +ulster and pot-hat was to survive the attack after all, +apparently: the elephant to outlast the jaguar.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Two hundred and seventy pounds?” The auctioneer +swept a comprehensive inquiry at every participant +in the fray and raised his hammer. “It’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>against you, sir. No advance? At two hundred and +seventy pounds…?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The hammer began to fall. A score of pencils wrote +“£270” against Lot 191.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And eighty!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The voice of the new bidder cut in crisp and business-like. +Without ostentation it conveyed the cheerful +message: “Now we are just beginning. I feel uncommonly +fit.” It caught the hammer in mid-air and +arrested it. It made the large man feel tired and discouraged. +He pushed back his hat, shook his head +slowly, with his eyes fixed on his catalogue, and remained +in stolid meditation. Carrados smiled inwardly +at the restraint and strategy of his friend.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Two hundred and eighty. Thank you, sir. Two +hundred and eighty pounds…?” He knew by +intuition that the price was final and the hammer fell +decisively. <a id='tn-mrmarrable2'></a>“Mr Marrable.… Lot 192, <cite>History and +Antiquities of the County, etc.</cite> Put it in the bidding, +please. One pound…?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>After the sale Mr Marrable came round to Carrados’s +chair in very good spirits. Certainly he had had to +give a not insignificant price for the <cite>Virginiola</cite>, but the +attendant circumstances had elated him. Then he had +secured the greater part of the other lots he wanted, +and at quite moderate valuations.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’ve paid my cheque and got my delivery note,” he +explained. “I shall send my men round for the books +when I get back. What do you think of the business?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Vastly entertaining,” replied Carrados. “I have +enjoyed myself thoroughly.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, well.… But they were out for the <cite>Virginiola</cite>, +weren’t they?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>“Yes,” admitted Carrados. “I feel that it is my turn +to stand a taxi. Can I drop you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Marrable assented graciously and they set out +again.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Look here,” said that gentleman as they approached +his door, “I think that I can put my hand on the +Rimini cameo I told you about, if you don’t mind +coming up again. Do you care to, now that you are +here?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Certainly,” replied Carrados. “I should like to +handle it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“May as well turn off the taxi then. There is a +stand quite near.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The cameo proved interesting and led to the display +of one or two other articles of bijouterie. The host +rang for tea and easily prevailed on Carrados—who +could be entertained by anyone except the rare individual +who had no special knowledge on any subject +whatever—to remain. Thus it came about that the +blind man was still there when the servant arrived with +the books.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I say, Carrados,” called out Mr Marrable.</p> + +<p class='c011'>He had crossed the room to speak with his man, who +had come up immediately on his return. The servant +continued to explain, and it was evident that something +annoying had happened. “Here’s a devilish fine +thing,” continued Mr Marrable, dividing his attention +between the two. “Felix has just been to Gurnard’s +and they tell him that the <cite>Virginiola</cite> cannot be found!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Mislaid for the moment,’ the gentleman said,” +amplified Felix.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“They send me back my cheque pending the book’s +recovery, but did you ever hear of such a thing? I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>was going down to Bristol by an early train to-morrow. +Now I don’t know what the deuce to do.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why not go back and find out what has really +happened?” suggested Carrados. “They will tell you +more than they would tell your man. If the book is +stolen you may as well put off your journey. If it is +mislaid—taken off by someone else in mistake, I expect +they mean—it may be on its way back by now.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; I suppose I’d better go. You’ve had enough +of it, I suppose?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“On the contrary I was going to ask you to let me +accompany you. It may be getting interesting.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I hope not,” retorted Marrable. “Come if you can +spare the time, but the very tamest ending will suit me +the best.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Felix had called up another cab by the time they +reached the door, and for the second time that afternoon +they spun through the West End streets with the +auction rooms for their destination.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Your turn to pay again, I think,” proposed Carrados +when they arrived. “You take the odd numbers +and I’ll take the even!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Inside, most of the staff were obviously distracted by +the strain of the untoward event and it was very evident +that barbed words had been on the wing. In the +private office to which Mr Marrable’s card gained them +immediate admittance they found all those actually +concerned in the loss engaged in saying the same things +over to each other for the hundredth time.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The book isn’t on the shelves now and there’s the +number in the delivery note; that’s all I know about +it,” a saleroom porter was reiterating with the air of +an extremely reasonable martyr.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, yes,” admitted the auctioneer who had conducted +<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>the sale, “no one——Oh, I’m glad you are +here, Mr Marrable. You’ve heard of our—er—eh——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My man came back with something about the book—the +<cite>Virginiola</cite>—being mislaid,” replied Mr Marrable. +“That is all I know so far.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, it’s very regrettable, of course, and we must +ask your indulgence; but what has happened is simple +enough and I hope it isn’t serious.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What concerns me,” interposed Mr Marrable, “is +merely this: Am I to have the book, and when?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We hope to deliver it into your hands—well, in a +very short time. As I was saying, what has happened +is this: Another purchaser bought certain lots. Among +them was Lot 91. My sale clerk, in the stress of his +duties, inadvertently filled in the delivery note as +Lot 191.” A gesture of despairing protest from the +unfortunate young man referred to passed unheeded. +“Consequently, as this gentleman took away his purchases +at the end of the sale, he carried off the <cite>Virginiola</cite> +among them. When he comes to look into the +parcel he will at once discover the substitution and—er—of +course return the volume.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I see,” assented Mr Marrable. “That seems +straightforward enough, but the delay is unfortunate +for me. Have you sent after the purchaser, by the +way?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We haven’t sent after the purchaser because he +happens to live in Derbyshire,” was the reply. “Here +is his card. We are writing at once, but the probability +is that he is staying in London overnight at least.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You might wire.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We will, of course, wire if you ask us to do so, Mr +Marrable, but it seems to indicate an attitude of distrust +<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>towards Mr—er—Mr Dillworthy of Cullington +Grange that I see no reason to entertain.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Assuming the whole incident to be accidental, I +think you are doing quite right. But in order to save +time mayn’t it perhaps be worth while anticipating that +something else may have been at work?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>They all looked at Mr Carrados, who advanced this +suggestion diffidently. The young man in the background +breathed an involuntary “Ah!” of agreement +and came a little more to the front.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you suggest that Mr Dillworthy of Cullington +Grange would actually deny possession of the book?” +inquired the auctioneer a little cuttingly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Pardon me,” replied Carrados blandly, “but do +you know Mr Dillworthy of Cullington Grange?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, certainly, I——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nor, of course, the purchaser of Lot 91? That +naturally follows. Then for the purpose of our hypothesis +I would suggest that we eliminate Mr Dillworthy, +who quite reasonably may not have been within a +hundred miles of Charing Cross to-day. What remains? +His visiting-card, that would cost about a +crown at the outside to reproduce, or might much more +cheaply be picked up from a hundred halls or office +tables.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The auctioneer smiled.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“An elaborate plant, eh? Have you any practical +knowledge, sir, of the difficulty, the impossibility, that +would attend the disposal of this imperfect copy the +moment our loss is notified?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But suppose it should become a perfect copy in +the meantime? That might throw dust in their eyes. +Eh, Marrable?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I say!” exclaimed the virtuoso, with his ideas forcibly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>directed into a new channel. “Yes, there is that, +you know, Mr Trenchard.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Even in that very unlikely event the <cite>Virginiola</cite> +remains a white elephant. It cannot be got off to-day +nor yet to-morrow. Any bookseller would require time +in which to collate the volume; it dare not be offered by +auction. It is like a Gainsborough or a Leonardo +illegally come by—so much unprofitable lumber after +it is stolen.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then,” hazarded Carrados, “there is the alternative, +which might suggest itself to a really intelligent +artist, of selling it before it is stolen.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The conditions were getting a little beyond Mr Trenchard’s +easy access. “Sell it before it is stolen?” he +repeated. “Why?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Because of the extreme difficulty, as you have +proved, of selling it after.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But how, I mean?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I think,” interposed a quiet voice from the doorway, +“that we had better accept Mr Carrados’s advice, +if he does us the great service of offering it, without discussion, +Leonard. I have the pleasure of speaking to +Mr Max Carrados, have I not?” continued a white-haired +old gentleman, advancing into the room. “My +young friend Trenchard, in his jealousy for the firm’s +reputation, starts with the conviction that it is impossible +for us to be victimised. You and I know better, +Mr Carrados. Now will you tell me—I am Mr Ing, +by the way—will you tell me what has really happened?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I wish I could,” admitted Carrados frankly. “Unfortunately +I know less of the circumstances than you +do, and although I was certainly present during a part +of the sale, I never even ‘saw’ the book”—he spread +<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>out the fingers of a hand to illustrate—“and probably +I was not within several yards of it or its present +holder.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But you have some idea of the method adopted—some +theory,” persisted Mr Ing. “You can tell us +what to do.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Even there I can only put two and two together +and suggest investigation on common-sense lines.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is necessary to go to an expert even for that +sometimes,” submitted the old gentleman with a very +comical look. “Now, Mr Carrados, pray enlighten +us.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“May I put a few questions then?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“By all means.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you require me, sir?” inquired Mr Trenchard +distantly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not if you will kindly leave the sale-book and +papers, I think, thank you,” replied Carrados. “This +young gentleman, though.” The sale clerk came forward +eagerly. “You have the delivery note there? +No, I don’t want it. This gentleman, whom we will +refer to as Mr Dillworthy—91 is the first thing he +bought?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The price?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Three pounds fifteen.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Is that a good price or a bargain?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The clerk looked towards Mr Ing.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s Coulthorp’s <cite>Marvellous Recoveries</cite>, sir; the edition +of 1674,” he explained.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A fair price,” commented the old gentleman. “Yes, +quite a good auction figure.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The <cite>Virginiola</cite> is folio, I believe. What size is +<cite>Marvellous Recoveries</cite>?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>“It is folio also.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><a id='tn-dillworthy'></a>“What was the next lot that Mr Dillworthy bought?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Lot 198.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Any others?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir. Lots 211, 217 and 234.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And the prices of these four lots?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Lot 198, a guinea; 211, twelve-and-six; 217, fifteen +shillings; 234, twenty-three shillings.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Those must be very low prices?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“They are books in no great demand. At every +sale from mixed sources there are a certain number of +make-weight lots.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We find, then, that Mr Dillworthy bought 91 at a +good price. After that he did nothing until 191 had +passed. Then he at once secured four lots of cheap +books. This gives a certain colour to suspicion, but +it may be pure coincidence. Now,” he continued, addressing +himself to the clerk again, “after the delivery +slip had been made out, did Mr Dillworthy borrow a +pen from you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The youth’s ingenuous face suddenly flashed to a +recollection.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Suffering Moses!” he exclaimed irrepressibly. +“Well——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then he did?” demanded Mr Ing, too keenly interested +to stop to reprove the manner.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not exactly, sir. He didn’t borrow a pen, but I +lent him one.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah!” remarked Carrados, “that sounds even better. +How did it come about?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“His bill was six pounds twelve and six. He gave +me seven pounds and I made out the delivery form and +gave it to him with the change. Then he said: ‘Could +you do with a fiver instead of five ones, by the way? +<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>I may run short of change,’ and he held out a bank-note. +‘Certainly, if you will kindly write your name +and address on the back,’ I replied, and I gave him +a pen.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The one you had been using?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, it was in my hand. He turned away and I +thought that he was doing what I asked, but before +he would have had time to do that he handed me the +pen back and said: ‘Thanks; after all, I’ll leave it +as it is.’”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Who sent in the book for sale?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Described as ‘the property of a gentleman,’” contributed +Mr Marrable. “I wondered.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If you will excuse me for a moment,” said Mr Ing, +“I will find out.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He returned from another office smiling amiably but +shaking his head.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘The property of a gentleman,’” he repeated with +senile deliberateness. “I find that the owner expressed +a definite wish for the transaction to be treated confidentially. +It is no unusual thing for a client to desire +that. On certain points of etiquette, Mr Carrados, I +am just as jealous for the firm as Trenchard could be, +so that until we can obtain consent I am afraid that +the gentleman must remain anonymous.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The question is,” volunteered Mr Marrable, “where +has the volume got to, rather than where has it come +from?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Sometimes,” remarked the blind man, “after looking +in many unlikely places one finds the key in the lock +itself. At all events we seem to have come to the end +of our usefulness here. Unless one of your people +happens to come forward with a real clue, Mr Ing, I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>venture to predict that you will find more profit in +investigating farther afield.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But what are we to do?” exclaimed the old gentleman +rather blankly, when he saw that Carrados was +preparing to go. “We are absolute babes at this sort +of thing—at least I know that I am.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The remedy for that is quite simple. Put the case +into the hands of the police.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“True, true; but it is not so absolutely simple to us. +We have various interests and, yes, let us say, old-fashioned +prejudices to consider. I suppose”—he became +quite touchingly wistful—“I suppose that you +could not be persuaded, Mr Carrados——?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m afraid not,” replied Carrados. “I have other +irons in the fire just now. But before you do call in +the police, by the way, there is Mr Trenchard’s view to +be considered.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You mean?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I mean that it would be as well to make sure that +the <cite>Virginiola</cite> has been stolen.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“By wiring to Cullington Grange?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Assuming that there is a Cullington Grange. Then +there is a harmless experiment in collateral proof that +you might like to make in the meantime if the reply +is delayed, as it reasonably may be through a dozen +causes.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And what is that, Mr Carrados?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Send up Charing Cross Road and find out among +the second-hand shops whether the other books Mr +Dillworthy took away with him were sold there immediately +after the sale. They were only bought to +round off the operation. They would be a dangerous +incubus to keep, but if our man is a cool hand he may +contrive to realise a pound or so for them before anything +<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>is known. You might even learn something else +in the process.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Aye, aye, to be sure,” acquiesced Mr Ing. “We’ll +do that at once. And then, Mr Carrados, just a parting +hint. If you were taking up the case what would +<em>you</em> do then?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The temptation to be oracular was irresistible. Carrados +smiled inwardly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I should try to find a tall, short-sighted, Welsh +book-dealer who smokes perique tobacco, suffers from a +weak chest, wears thick-soled boots and always carries +an umbrella,” he replied with impressive gravity.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Ing, the saleroom porter, the young clerk and +Mr Marrable all looked at each other and then began +to repeat the varied attributes of the required +individual.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There’s that—what’s his name?—old chap with a +red waistcoat who’s always here,” hopefully suggested +the porter in an aside. “He wears specs, and I’ve +never seen him without an umbrella.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He’s a Scotchman and stands about five feet three, +fathead!” whispered the clerk. “Isn’t Mr Powis +Welsh, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“To be sure. Powis of Redmayne Street is the +man,” assented Mr Ing. “Isn’t that correct, Mr +Carrados?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t know,” replied Carrados, “but if he answers +to the description it probably is.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And then?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then I think I should call and encourage him to +talk to me—about Shakespeare.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why, dash it, Carrados,” cried Mr Marrable, “you +said that you knew nothing of book-collecting and yet +you seem to be aware that Powis specialises Shakespeariana +<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>and to know that the <cite>Virginiola</cite> would interest +him. I wonder how much you have been getting +at me!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, I suppose that I’m beginning to pick up a thing +or two,” admitted the blind man diffidently.</p> + +<p class='c011'>In the course of his experience of crime, fragments of +many mysteries had been brought to Carrados’s notice—detached +chapters of chequered human lives to which +the opening and the finis had never been supplied. +Some had fascinated him and yet remained impenetrable +to the end, yet the theft of the <cite>Virginiola</cite>, a +mere coup of cool effrontery in which he felt no great +interest after he had pierced the method, was destined +to unfold itself before his mind without an effort on +his part.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The sale at Gurnard’s had taken place on a Wednesday. +Friday brought Carrados a reminder of the stone +that he had set rolling in the appearance of a visiting-card +bearing the name and address of Mr Powis of +Redmayne Street. Mr Powis was shown in and proved +to be a tall, mild-looking man with a chronic cough. +He carried a moderate parcel in one hand and, despite +the bright, settled condition of the weather, an umbrella +in the other.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m an antiquarian bookseller, Mr Carrados,” he +remarked by way of introduction. “I haven’t the +honour of your custom that I know of, but I dare say +you can guess what brings me here.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You might tell me,” replied Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh yes, Mr Carrados, I will tell you. Certainly I +will tell you,” retorted Mr Powis, in a rather louder +voice than was absolutely necessary. “Mr Ing looked +in at my place of pizzness yesterday. He said that he +was ‘just passing’—‘just passing,’ you understand.” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>Mr Powis emphasised the futility of the subterfuge by +laughing sardonically.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A charming old gentleman,” remarked Carrados +pleasantly. “I don’t suppose that he would deceive a +rabbit.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t suppose that he could,” asserted Mr Powis. +“‘By the way,’ he said, ‘did you see the <cite>Virginiola</cite> we +sold yesterday?’ ‘By the way!’ Yes, that was it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados nodded his smiling appreciation.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Oh-ho,’ I thought, ‘the <cite>Virginiola</cite>!’ ‘Yes, Mr +Ing,’ I said, ‘it was a nice copy parring the defect, but +a week ago I could have shown you a nicer and a perfect +one to poot.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘You’ve got one too, have you?’ he asked.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Certainly I have,’ I replied, ‘or I should not say +so. At least I had, but it may be sold now. It has +gone to a gentleman in Rutland.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Rutland; that’s a little place,’ he remarked +thoughtfully. ‘Have you any objection to mentioning +your customer’s name?’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Not in the least, Mr Ing,’ I told him. ‘Why +should I have? It has taken me five and twenty +years to make my connection, but let all the trade +have it. Sir Roland Chargrave of Densmore Hall is +the gentleman.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Now, look you, Mr Carrados, I could see by the +way Mr Ing gasped when I told him that things are not +all right. It seems to be your doing that I am brought +into it and I want to know where I stand.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Have you any misgivings as to where you stand?” +inquired Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, Mr Carrados, I have not,” exclaimed the visitor +indignantly. “I pought my <cite>Virginiola</cite> three or four +weeks ago and I paid a goot price for it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>“Then you certainly have nothing to trouble about.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Put I have a goot deal to trouble about,” vociferated +Mr Powis. “I have a copy of the <cite>Virginiola</cite> to +dispose of——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, you still have it, then?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, Mr Carrados, I have. Thanks to what is +peing said pehind my pack, the pook was returned to +me this morning. My name has been connected with +a stolen copy and puyers are very shy, look you, when +they hear that. And word, it travels; oh yes. You +may not know how, but to-day they will be saying in +Wales: ‘Have you heard what is peing said of Mr +Powis of London?’ And to-morrow in Scotland it will +be: ‘That old tamn rascal Powis has been caught at +last!’”</p> + +<p class='c011'>In spite of Mr Powis’s desperate seriousness Carrados +could not restrain a laugh at the forcefulness of the +recital. “Come, come, Mr Powis,” he said soothingly, +“it isn’t as bad as that, you know. In any case you +have only to display your receipt.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, very goot, very goot indeed!” retorted the +Welshman in an extremity of satire. “Show a buyer +my receipt! Excellent! That would be a capital way +to carry on the antiquarian pook pizzness! Besides,” +he added, rather lamely, “in this case it happens that +I do not possess a receipt.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Isn’t that—rather an oversight?” suggested Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No doubt I could easily procure one. Let me tell +you the circumstances, Mr Carrados. I only want to +convince you that I have nothing to conceal.” With +this laudable intention Mr Powis’s attitude became +more and more amiable and his manner much less +Welsh. He had, in fact, used up all the indignation +<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>that he had generated in anticipation of a wordy conflict—a +species of protective mimicry common to mild-tempered +men. “I bought this book from the Rev. Mr +Winch, the vicar of Fordridge, in Leicestershire. A +few weeks ago I received a registered parcel from Fordridge +containing a fine copy of the <cite>Virginiola</cite>. The +same post brought me a letter from Mr Winch. I dare +say I have it here.… No, never mind; it was to +the effect that the book had been in the writer’s family +for many generations. Being something of a collector, +he had never wished to sell it, but an unexpected misfortune +now obliged him to raise a sum of money. He +had contracted blood-poisoning in his hand and he had +to come up to London for an operation. After that he +would have to take a long sea voyage. He went on to +say that he had heard of me as a likely buyer and would +call on me in a day or two. In the meantime he sent +the book to give me full opportunity of examining it.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nothing could be more straightforward, Mr Carrados. +Two days later Mr Winch walked into my +place. We discussed the price, and finally we agreed +upon—well, a certain figure.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You can rely upon my discretion, Mr Powis.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I paid him £260.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That would be a fair price in the circumstances?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I thought so, Mr Carrados. I don’t say that it +wasn’t a bargain, but it wasn’t an outrageous bargain.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You have occasionally done better?” smiled Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Frequently. If I buy a book for threepence and +sell it again for a shilling I do better, although it doesn’t +sound so well. Of course I am a dealer and I have to +live on my profits and to pay for my bad bargains with +my good bargains. Now if I had had an immediate +<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>customer in view the book might have been worth a +good deal more to me. I may say that Wednesday’s +price at Gurnard’s surprised me. Prices have certainly +been going up, but only five years ago it would have +required a practically perfect copy to make that.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“At all events, Mr Winch accepted?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I think I may say that he was perfectly satisfied,” +amended Mr Powis. “You see, Mr Carrados, he wanted +the money at once, and, apart from the uncertainty +and expense, he could not have waited for an auction. +I was making out a cheque when he reminded me that +his right hand was useless and asked me to initial it to +‘bearer.’ That is why I come to have no receipt.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” assented Carrados. “Yes, that is it. How +was the letter signed?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It was typewritten, like the rest of it. You remember +that his hand was bad when he wrote.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“True. Did you notice the postmark—was it Fordridge?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; you should understand that Mr Winch posted +on the book before he left Fordridge for London.” It +seemed to the visitor that Mr Carrados was rather slow +even for a blind man.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I think I am beginning to grasp the position,” said +Carrados mildly. “Of course you had no occasion to +write to him at Fordridge?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nothing whatever. Besides, he was coming to +London almost immediately. If I wrote it was to be +to the Fitzalan Hotel, off the Strand. Now here is the +book, Mr Carrados. You saw—you examined, that is, +the auction <cite>Virginiola</cite>?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, unfortunately I did not.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am sorry. You would now have recognised how +<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>immeasurably superior my copy is, even apart from the +missing pages.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I can quite believe it.” He was turning over the +leaves of the book, which Mr Powis had passed to him. +“But this writing on the dedication page?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, that,” said the dealer carelessly. “Some former +owner has written his name there.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I suppose it constitutes a blot?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why, yes, in a small way it does,” admitted Mr +Powis. “Had it been ‘Wm. Shakespeare,’ it would +have added a thousand guineas; as it’s only ‘Wm. +Shoelack,’ it knocks two or three off.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Possibly,” suggested Carrados, “it was this blemish +that decided Sir Roland Chargrave against the book?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, no,” insisted Mr Powis. “Someone has hinted +something to him. I don’t say that you are to blame, +Mr Carrados, but a suspicion has been created; it +has got about.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But Sir Roland is the one man whom it could not +affect,” pointed out Carrados. “He, at any rate, would +know that this copy is unimpeachable, because when +the other was being stolen this was actually in his hands +and had been for—for how long?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Five or six days; he kept it for about a week. And +that no doubt is true as a specific case; but a malicious +rumour is wide, Mr Carrados. So-and-so is unreliable; +he deals in questionable property; better be +careful. It is enough. No, no; Mr Chatton said nothing +about any objection to the book, merely that Sir +Roland had decided not to retain it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Chatton?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He is the secretary or the librarian there. I have +frequently done business with him in the old baronet’s +time. This man is a nephew who succeeded only a few +<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>months ago. Well, Mr Carrados, I hope I have convinced +you that I came by this <cite>Virginiola</cite> in a legitimate +manner?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Scarcely that.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I haven’t!” exclaimed Mr Powis in blank astonishment.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I never doubted it. At the sale I happened to hear +you remark to a friend that you had recently bought +a copy. My suggestion to Mr Ing was merely to hint +that, with your exceptional knowledge, your unique +experience, you would probably be able to put them on +the right line as to the disposal of the stolen copy and +so on. An unfortunate misunderstanding.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Powis stared and then nodded several times with +an expression of acute resignation.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That old man is past work,” he remarked feelingly. +“I might have saved myself a journey. Well, I’ll go +now, Mr Carrados.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not yet,” declared Carrados hospitably; “I am +going to persuade you to stay and lunch with me, Mr +Powis. I want”—he was still fingering the early pages +of the <cite>Virginiola</cite> with curious persistence—“I want +you to explain to me the way in which these interesting +old books were bound.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>With the departure of Mr Powis a few hours later +Carrados might reasonably conclude that he had heard +the last of the <cite>Virginiola</cite> theft, for he was now satisfied +that it would never reach publicity as a police court +case. But, willy-nilly, the thing pursued him. Mr +Carlyle was to have dined with him one evening in the +following week. It was a definite engagement, but +during the day the inquiry agent telephoned his friend +to know what he should do. A young gentleman who +<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>had been giving him some assistance in a case was +thrown on his hands for the evening.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You are the most amiable of men, Max,” chirruped +Mr Carlyle; “but, really, I don’t like to ask——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Bring him by all means,” assented the most amiable +of men. “I expect two or three others to turn up to-night.” +So Mr Carlyle brought him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Chatton, Max.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>An unobtrusive young man, whose face wore a perpetual +expression of docile willingness, shook hands +with Carrados. Anything less like the sleek, competent +self-assurance of the conventional private secretary it +would be difficult to imagine. Mr Chatton’s manner +was that of a well-meaning man who habitually blundered +from a too conscientious sense of duty, knew +it all along, and was pained at the inevitableness of the +recurring catastrophe.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have just taken up a case that might interest you, +Max,” said Mr Carlyle, as the three of them stood +together. “Simple enough, but it involves a valuable +old book that has been stolen. Gurnard’s called me +in”—and he proceeded to outline the particulars of the +missing <cite>Virginiola</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And you went down yourself to Gurnard’s to look +into it, Mr Chatton?” said Carrados, masking the +species of admiration that he felt for his new acquaintance.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, I don’t know about looking into it,” confessed +Mr Chatton. “You see, it doesn’t really concern Sir +Roland at all now. But I thought that I ought to offer +them any information—a description or something of +that sort might be wanted—when I heard of their loss. +Of course,” he added, with a deepening of his habitual +look of rueful perturbation, “we can’t help it, but it’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>very distressing to think of them losing so much money +over our affair.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not a bit of it, not a bit of it,” cried Mr Carlyle +heartily. “It’s all in the way of business and Gurnard’s +won’t feel a touch like that. Very good of you +to take all the trouble you have, I say.” He turned +his beaming, self-confident eye towards his host to explain. +“I happened to meet Mr Chatton there this +morning and ever since he has been helping me to put +about inquiries in likely quarters and so on. I haven’t +any doubt of pulling our man up in a week or two, +unless it’s the work of a secret bibliomaniac, and +Gurnard’s don’t entertain that.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Wednesday last, you say,” pondered Carrados. +“Aren’t they rather late in turning it over to you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Just what I complained of. Then it came out that +they had been pinning their faith to the advice of some +officious idiot who happened to be present at the sale. +Nothing came of it, of course.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“They did not happen to mention the idiot’s name?” +inquired Max tentatively.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No. The old gentleman—Mr Ing—said that he +had already got into hot water once through doing +that.” Mr Carlyle began to laugh in his hearty way +over a recollection of the incident. “Do you know +what this genius’s brilliant idea was? He put them +on the track of a copy of this book that had been +recently sold to a dealer, assuming that it must necessarily +be the stolen copy. And so it had been recently +sold, Max, but it happened to be <em>before</em> the other was +stolen!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very amusing,” agreed Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you know, I can’t help thinking that I was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>somehow to blame for that,” confessed Mr Chatton in +a troubled voice. “You remember, I told you——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, no,” protested Mr Carlyle encouragingly. +“How could it be your fault?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, it’s very good of you to reassure me,” continued +the young man, relieved but not convinced. +“But I really think I may have introduced a confusing +element. I should like Mr Carrados to judge.… +When I learned from Sir Roland that he intended sending +this <cite>Virginiola</cite> to Gurnard’s, knowing that it was a +valuable book, I saw the necessity of going over it carefully +with another copy—‘collating’ it is called—to +find out whether anything was missing. The British +Museum doesn’t possess an example, and in any case I +could not well spare a day just then to come to London +for the purpose. So I wrote to a few dealers, rather, I +am afraid, giving them the impression that we wished +to buy a copy. In this way I got what I wanted sent +up on approval and I was able to go through the two +thoroughly. At the moment I argued that my duty +to my employer justified the subterfuge, but I don’t +know, I don’t know; I really question whether it was +quite legitimate.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, nonsense,” remonstrated Mr Carlyle, to whom +the subtleties did not appeal. “Rather a smart way +of getting what you wanted in the circumstances, don’t +you think, Max?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados paid a willing if equivocal tribute to the +wider problem of Mr Chatton’s brooding conscientiousness.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very ingenious altogether,” he admitted.</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'><a id='tn-pullhismanup'></a>Mr Carlyle did not pull his man up in a few weeks; +in fact he never reached him at all. For the key to the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>disappearance of the <cite>Virginiola</cite> he had to wait two +years. He was at The Turrets one day when his host +was called away for a short time to see a man who +had come on business.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carlyle had picked up a newspaper, when Carrados +came back from the door and opening one of the inner +drawers of his desk threw out a long envelope.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There,” he remarked as he went on again, “is +something that may interest you more.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He was quite right. The inquiry agent cut open the +envelope that was addressed to himself and read the +following narrative:—</p> + +<p class='c013'>In the year 1609 a seafaring gentleman called Somers—Sir +George Somers—was wrecked on an island in +the Atlantic. This island—one of a group—although +destitute of human inhabitants, was overrun by pigs. +During the first part of their enforced residence there +the shipwrecked mariners were much concerned by unearthly +shrieks and wailings that filled the night. With +the simple piety of the time these were attributed to +the activity of witches, imps and demons. In fact, in +addition to the varied appellations of Virginiola, Bermoothes, +Somers Islands, etc., the place was enticingly +called “The Ile of Divels.”</p> + +<p class='c014'>In due course the castaways were rescued and returned +to England. In due course, also, there appeared +a variety of printed accounts of their adventures. (We +are prone to think that the tendency is modern, Louis, +but it is not.) One of these coming into the hands of +a cynical, middle-aged playwright on the look-out for a +new plot to annex, was at once pressed into his scheme. +Doubtless he saw behind the shadowy “divels” the +substantial outlines of the noisy “hogges.” However, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>the idea was good enough for a background. He wrote +his play and called it <cite>The Tempest</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c014'>This is the explanation offered to me of the high and +increasing value of rare early works on Bermuda. They +can be classed among the Shakespeariana. There is +also another reason: they can be classed among the +Americana.</p> + +<p class='c014'>About three hundred years later a certain young +gentleman who combined fairly expensive tastes with +good commercial ability succeeded to a title and its appendages. +Among the latter were a mansion in Rutlandshire, +which he determined was too expensive, a +library in which he was not vastly interested, and a +private secretary whose services he continued to retain.</p> + +<p class='c014'>One day about six months after his succession Sir +Roland Chargrave called in his secretary to receive +instructions.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“Look here, Chatton,” he said, “I have decided to +let this place furnished for a time. See Turvey about +the value and then advertise it for something more +than he advises. It ought to bring in a decent rental. +Then there are some valuable things here that are no +earthly good to me. I’ll start with the library.”</p> + +<p class='c014'>“You intend to dispose of the library, Sir Roland?” +faltered the secretary.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“No. The library gives a certain distinction to a +fellow and the Chargraves have always had one. I’ll +keep the library, but I’ll weed out all the old stuff that +will make high prices. Uncle Vernon left a valuation +list which appears to have been made out about ten +years ago. One book alone—<cite>An Account of Virginiola</cite>—he +puts down at £300. Then there are a dozen others +that ought to bring another £200 among them. I +require £500 just now. Here is a list of the books I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>have picked out. Send them off to Gurnard’s to be +sold as soon as possible. Don’t have my name catalogued. +I don’t want it to be known that I’m selling +anything. That’s all.”</p> + +<p class='c014'>The secretary withdrew with an accentuation of his +unhappy manner. It was very distressing to him, this +dispersal of the family heirlooms. It was also extremely +inconvenient personally, because he had already sold +the <cite>Virginiola</cite> himself only a week before. For he also +had expenses. Perhaps he had fallen into the hands of +the Jews; perhaps it was the Jewesses. At all events, +like Sir Roland, he required money, and again like Sir +Roland, the <cite>Virginiola</cite> had seemed the most suitable +method. He had quietly withdrawn the book about +the time of his former master’s death, and thus saved +the new baronet quite an item in duty. He had secured +Sir Vernon’s valuation list and after six months had +concluded that he was safe. He had taken extraordinary +pains to cover his identity in selling the book +and the old dotard appeared to have made two lists and +to have deposited one elsewhere!</p> + +<p class='c014'>Like a wise man Mr Chatton set about discovering +how he could retrieve himself. He had had charge of +the library and he knew that it was too late to report +the book as lost. In any case he would be dismissed; +if inquiry was made at that stage he would be prosecuted. +From the depths of his brooding melancholy +Mr Chatton evolved a scheme.</p> + +<p class='c014'>The first thing was to get back the <cite>Virginiola</cite> a little +before the sale. By that time he had sent in the list, +but not the books. Doubtless he still had some of the +illicit funds in hand. Now the <cite>Virginiola</cite> had been +valued at £300 by old Sir Vernon, but if at the sale it +was discovered to be imperfect in an important detail +<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>then it might realise only a fraction of that sum. There +was also another consideration. A name had been +indelibly written on one of the early pages, and if Mr +Powis was not to recognise his property that page must +be temporarily removed.</p> + +<p class='c014'>I think it was Chatton’s undoubted intention to buy +back the book if possible and run no further risk with +it. What he had not taken into account was the enormous +rise in the value of this class of work. What had +been reasonably worth £300 ten years before, the +market now apprised at nearly double. Even the imperfect +copy reached nearly the original estimate and +thereby Chatton’s first string failed.</p> + +<p class='c014'>But this painstakingly conscientious young man had +not been content to risk all on a single chance. What +form his second venture took it will be unnecessary to +recall to you. He calculated on the chances of the +saleroom, and he succeeded. The <cite>Virginiola</cite> was recovered; +the abstracted sheet was cunningly replaced, +probably certain erasable marks that had been put in +for fuller disguise were removed, and Mr Powis received +back his property with formal regrets.</p> + +<p class='c014'>I anticipate an indignant question rising to your lips. +I did not tell you this before, Louis, because of one +curious fact. The story is entirely speculative on my +part so far as demonstrable proof is concerned. Chatton, +who is rather a remarkable young man, <a id='tn-shred'></a>did not +leave behind him one solitary shred of evidence that +would stand before a jury. Time and Mr Chatton’s +future career can alone bring my justification, but some +day if we have the opportunity (I am committing this +to paper in case we should not) we will go over the +evidence together. In the meanwhile Gurnard’s can, +as you said, stand the loss.</p> + +<p class='c015'><span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>Here the typewritten account ended, but at the foot +of the last page Carrados had pasted a newspaper +cutting. From it Mr Carlyle learned that “Vernon +Howard, alias Digby Skeffington, etc., etc., whose real +name was said to be Chatton, well connected,” had, the +week before, been convicted, chiefly on the King’s +evidence of a female accomplice, of obtaining valuable +jewellery under false pretences. Sentence had been +deferred, pending further inquiries.</p> + +</div> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span></div> +<div class='chapter' id='chapter-2'> + +<div> + <h2 class='c006'>II<br> <br>The Disappearance of Marie Severe</h2> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_15_0_65 c010'><span class="uppercase">“I wonder</span> if you might happen to be interested in +this case of Marie Severe, Mr Carrados?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>If Carrados’s eyes had been in the habit of +expressing emotion they would doubtless have twinkled +as Inspector Beedel thus casually introduced the subject +of the Swanstead on Thames schoolgirl whose inexplicable +disappearance two weeks earlier had filled +column upon column of every newspaper with excited +speculation until the sheer impossibility of keeping the +sensation going without a shred of actual fact had relegated +Marie Severe to the obscurity of an occasional +paragraph.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If you are concerned with it, I am sure that I shall +be interested, Inspector,” said the blind man encouragingly. +“It is still being followed, then?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why, yes, sir, I have it in hand, but as for following +it—well, ‘following’ is perhaps scarcely the word now.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah,” commented Carrados. “There was very little +to follow, I remember.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t think that I’ve ever known a case of the +kind with less, sir. For all the trace she left, the girl +might have melted out of existence, and from that day +to this, with the exception of that printed communication +received by the mother—you remember that, Mr +<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>Carrados?—there hasn’t been a clue worth wasting so +much as shoe leather on.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You have had plenty of hints all the same, I +suppose?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Inspector Beedel threw out a gesture of mild despair. +It conveyed the patient exasperation of the conscientious +and long-suffering man.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I should say that the case ‘took on’ remarkably, +Mr Carrados. I doubt if there has been a more popular +sensation of its kind for years. Mind you, I’m all in +favour of publicity in the circumstances; the photographs +and description <em>may</em> bring important facts to +light, but sometimes it’s a bit trying for those who have +to do the work at our end. ‘Seen in Northampton,’ +‘seen in Ealing,’ ‘heard of in West Croydon,’ ‘girl +answering to the description observed in the waiting-room +at Charing Cross,’ ‘suspicious-looking man with +likely girl noticed about the Victoria Dock, Hull,’ ‘seen +and spoken to near Chorley, Lancs,’ ‘caught sight of +apparently struggling in a luxurious motor car on the +Portsmouth Road,’ ‘believed to have visited a Watford +picture palace’—they’ve all been gone into as carefully +as though we believed that each one was the real thing +at last.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And you haven’t, eh?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The Inspector looked round. He knew well enough +that they were alone in the study at The Turrets, but +the action had become something of a mannerism with +him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t mind admitting to <em>you</em>, sir, that I’ve never +had any other opinion than that the father of the little +girl went down that day and got her away. Where she +is now, and whether dead or alive, I can’t pretend to +say, but that he’s at the bottom of it I’m firmly convinced. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>And what’s more,” he added with slow significance, +“I <em>hope</em> so.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why in particular?” inquired the other.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Beedel felt in his breast-pocket, took out a formidable +wallet, and from among its multitudinous contents +selected a cabinet photograph sheathed in its +protecting envelope of glazed transparent paper.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If you could make out anything of what this portrait +shows, you’d understand better what I mean, Mr +Carrados,” he replied delicately.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados shook his head but nevertheless held out +his hand for the photograph.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No good, I’m afraid,” he confessed before he took +it. “A print of this sort is one of the few things that +afford no graduation to the sense of touch. No, no”—as +he passed his finger-tips over the paper—“a gelatino-chloride +surface of mathematical uniformity, Inspector, +and nothing more. Now had it been the negative——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am sure that that could be procured if you wished +to have it, Mr Carrados. Anyway, I dare say that +you’ve seen in some of the papers what this young girl +is like. She is ten years old and big—or at least tall—for +her age. This picture is the last taken—some time +this year—and I am told that it is just like her.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“How should you describe it, Inspector?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am not much good at that sort of thing,” said the +large man with a shy awkwardness, “but it makes as +sweet a picture as ever I’ve seen. She is very straight-set, +and yet with a sort of gracefulness such as a young +wild animal might have. It’s a full-faced position, and +she is looking straight out at you with an expression +that is partly serious and partly amused, and as noble +and gracious with it all as a young princess might be. +I have children of my own, Mr Carrados, and of course +<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>I think they’re very nice and pretty, but this—this +is quite a different thing. Her hair is curly without +being in separate curls, and the description calls it +black. Eyes dark brown with straight eyebrows, complexion +a sort of glowing brown, small regular teeth. +Of course we have a full description of what she was +wearing and so forth.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, yes,” assented Carrados idly. “The Van +Brown Studio, Photographers, eh? These people are +quite well off, then?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh yes; very nice house and good position—Mrs +Severe, that is to say. You will remember that she +obtained a divorce from her husband four or five years +ago. I’ve turned up the particulars and it wasn’t +what you’d call a bad case as things go, but the lady +seemed determined, and in the end Severe didn’t defend. +She had five or six hundred a year of her own, +but he had nothing beyond his salary, and he threw his +position up then, and ever since he has been going +steadily down. He’s almost on the last rung now and +picks up his living casual.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What’s the case against him?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, it scarcely amounts to a case as yet because +there is no evidence of his being seen with the child, nor +is there anything to connect him with her after the +disappearance. Still, it is a working hypothesis. If it +was the act of a tramp or a maniac, experience goes to +show that we should have found her, dead or alive, by +now. Mrs Severe is all for it being her husband. Of +course the decree gave her the custody of Marie. Severe +asked to be allowed to see her occasionally, and at first +a servant took the child to have tea with him once a +month. That was at his rooms. Then he asked to be +met in one of the parks or at a gallery. He hadn’t got +<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>so much as a room then, you see, sir. At last the +servant reported that he had grown so shabby as to +shame her that the child should be seen with him, +though she did say that he was always sober and very +kind to Marie, bringing her a little toy or something +even when he didn’t seem to have sixpence for himself. +After that the visits were stopped altogether. Then +about a month ago these two, husband and wife, met +accidentally in the street. Severe said that he hoped +to be doing a bit better soon, and asked for the visits to +be continued. How it would have gone I cannot say, +but Mrs Severe happened to have a friend with her, an +American lady called Miss Julp, who seems to be living +with her now, and the middle-aged female—she’s a +hard sister, that Cornelia Julp, I should say—pushed +her way into the conversation and gave her views on +his conduct until Severe must have had some trouble +with his hands. Finally Mrs Severe had an unfortunate +impulse to end the discussion by giving her husband a +bank-note. She says she got the most awful look she +ever saw on any face. Then Severe very deliberately +tore up the note, dropped the pieces down a gutter grid +that they were standing near, dusted his fingers on his +handkerchief, raised his hat and walked away without +another word. That was the last she saw of him, but +she professes to have been afraid of something happening +ever since.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then something happens, and so, of course, it must +be Severe?” suggested Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It does look a bit like that so far, I must admit, sir,” +assented the Inspector. “Still, Mrs Severe’s opinions +aren’t quite all. Severe’s account of his movements +on the afternoon in question—say between twelve-thirty +and four in particular—are not satisfactory. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>Latterly he has been occupying a miserable room off +Red Lion Street. He went out at twelve and returned +about five—that he doesn’t deny. Says he spent the +time walking about the streets and in the Holborn +news-room, but can mention no one who saw him +during those five hours. On the other hand, a porter +at Swanstead station identifies him as a passenger who +alighted there from the 1.17 that afternoon.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“From a newspaper likeness?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In the first instance, Mr Carrados. Afterwards in +person.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Did they speak, or is it merely visual?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Only from what he saw of him.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Struck, I suppose, by the remarkable fact that +the passenger wore a hat and a tie—as shown in the +picture; or inspired to notice him closely by something +indescribably suggestive in the passenger’s way of giving +up his ticket? It may be all right, Beedel, I admit, +but I heartily distrust the weight of importance that +these casual identifications are being given on vital +points nowadays. Are you satisfied with this yourself?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Only as corroborative, sir. Until we find the girl +or some trace of her we’re bound to make casts in the +hope of picking up a line. Well, then there’s the letter +Mrs Severe received.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Have you that with you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The Inspector took up the wallet that he had not +yet returned to his pocket and selected another enclosure.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s a very unusual form,” he commented as he +handed the envelope to Mr Carrados and waited for +his opinion.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The blind man passed his finger-tips across the paper +and at once understood the point of singularity. The +<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>lines were printed, but not in consecutive form, every +letter being on a little separate square of paper. It was +evident that they had been cut out from some other +sheet and then pasted on the envelope to form the +address.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“London, E.C., 5.30 <span class='fss'>P.M.</span>, 15th May,” read Carrados +from the postmark.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The day of the kidnapping. There is a train from +Swanstead arriving at Lambeth Bridge at 4.47,” remarked +Beedel.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What was your porter doing when that left?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He was off duty, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados took out the enclosure and read it off as +he had already done the envelope, but with a more +deliberative touch, for the print was smaller. The +type and the paper were suggestive of a newspaper +origin. In most cases whole words had been found +available.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do not be alarmed,” ran the patchwork message. +“The girl is in good hands. Only risk lies in pressing +search. Wait and she will return uninjured.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You have identified the newspaper?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; it is all cut from <cite>The Times</cite> of May the 13th. +The printing on the back of the words fixes it absolutely. +Premeditated, Mr Carrados.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The whole incident points to that. The date of +the newspaper means little, but the deliberate selection +of words, the careful way they have been cut out and +aligned, taken in conjunction with the time the child +disappeared and the time that this was posted—yes, +I think you may assume premeditation, Inspector.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Stationery of the commonest description; immediate +return to London, and the method of a man who used +<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>this print because he feared that under any disguise +his handwriting might be recognised.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados nodded.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Severe cannot hope to retain the child, of course,” +he remarked casually. “What motive do you infer?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mrs Severe is convinced that it is to distress her, +out of revenge.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And this letter is to reassure her?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The Inspector bit his lip as he smiled at the quiet +thrust.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It might also be to influence her towards suspending +search,” he suggested.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“At all events I dare say that it has reassured her?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In a certain way, yes, it has. It has enabled us to +establish that the act is not one of casual lust or vagabondage. +There is an alternative that we naturally +did not suggest to her.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And that is?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Another Thelby Wood case, Mr Carrados. The +maniacal infatuation of someone who would be the last +to be suspected. Some man of good position, a friend +and neighbour possibly, who sees this beautiful young +creature—the school friend of his own daughters or +sitting before him in church it may be—and becomes +the slave of his diseased imagination until he is prepared +to risk everything for that one overpowering +object. A primitive man for the time, one may say, or, +even worse, a satyr or a gorilla.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I wonder,” observed Carrados thoughtfully, “if you +also have ever felt that you would like to drop it and +become a monk, Inspector. Or a stylite on a pole.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Beedel laughed softly and then rubbed his chin in the +same contemplative spirit.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I think I know what you mean, sir,” he admitted. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>“It’s a black page. But,” he added with wholesome +philosophy, “after all, it <em>is</em> only a page in a longish +book. And if I was in a monastery there’d be one or +two more things done that I’ve helped to keep undone.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Including the cracking of my head, Inspector? +Very true. We must take the world as we find it and +ourselves as we are. And I wish that I could agree +with you about Severe. It would be a more endurable +outlook: spite and revenge are at least decent human +motives. Unfortunately, the only hint I can offer is a +negative one.” He indicated the printed cuttings on +the sheet that Beedel had submitted to him. “This +photo-mountant costs about sixpence a pot, but you +can buy a bottle of gum for a penny.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, sir,” said Beedel, “I did think of having that +examined, but I waited for you to see the letter as it +stood. After all, it didn’t strike me as a point one +could put much reliance on.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Quite right,” assented Mr Carrados, “there is nothing +personal or definite in it. It may suggest a photographer, +amateur or professional, but it would be preposterous +to assume so much from this alone. Severe, +even, may have——There are hundreds of chances. +I should disregard it for the moment.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There is nothing more to be got from the letter?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There may be, but it is rather elusive at present. +What has been done with it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I received it from Mrs Severe and it has been in +my possession ever since.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You haven’t submitted it to a chemist for any +purpose?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, sir. I gave a copy of the wording to some +newspaper gentlemen, but no one but myself has +handled it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>“Very good. Now if you care to leave it with me +for a few days——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Inspector Beedel expressed his immediate willingness +and would have added his tribute of obligation for +Mr Carrados’s service, but the blind man cut him short.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Don’t rely on anything, Inspector,” he warned +him. “I am afraid that this resolves itself into a game +of chance. Just one touch of luck may give us a winning +point, or it may go the other way. In any case +there is no reason why I should not motor round by +Swanstead one of these days when I am out. If anything +fresh turns up before you hear from me you +had better telephone me. Now exactly where did this +happen?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The actual facts surrounding the disappearance of +Marie Severe constituted the real mystery of the case. +Arling Avenue, Swanstead, was one of those leisurely +suburban roads where it is impossible to imagine anything +happening hurriedly from the delivery of an occasional +telegram to the activity of the local builder. +Houses, detached houses each surrounded by its rood +or more of garden, had been built here and there along +its length at one time or another, but even the most +modern one had now become matured, and the vacant +plots between them had reverted from the condition of +“eligible sites” into very passable fields of buttercups +and daisies again, so that Arling Avenue remained a +pleasant and exclusive thoroughfare. One side of the +road was entirely unbuilt on and afforded the prospect +of a level meadow where hay was made and real animals +grazed in due season. The inhabitants of Arling Avenue +never failed to point out to visitors this evidence of +undeniable rurality. It even figured in the prospectus +of Homewood, the Arling Avenue day school for girls +<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>and little boys which the Misses Chibwell had carried +on with equal success and inconspicuousness until the +Severe affair suddenly brought them into the glare of a +terrifying publicity.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mrs Severe’s house, The Hollies, was the first in the +road, as the road was generally regarded—that is to say, +from the direction of the station. Beedel picked up a +loose sheet of paper and scored it heavily with a plan +of the neighbourhood as he explained the position with +some minuteness. Next to The Hollies came Arling +Lodge. After Arling Lodge there was one of the vacant +plots of ground before the next house was reached, but +between the Lodge and the vacant plot was a broad +grassy opening, unfenced towards the road, and here +the Inspector’s pencil underlined the deepest significance, +culminating in an ominous <span class="sans-x">X</span> about the centre +of the space. Originally the opening had doubtless +marked the projection of another road, but the scheme +had come to nothing. Occasionally a little band of +exploring children with the fictitious optimism of youth +pecked among its rank and tangled growth in the affectation +of hoping to find blackberries there; once in +a while a passing chair-mender or travelling tinker +regarded it favourably for the scene of his midday +siesta, but its only legitimate use seemed to be that of +affording access to the side door of Arling Lodge garden. +The Inspector pencilled in the garden door as an afterthought, +with the parenthesis that it was seldom used +and always kept locked. Then he followed out the +Avenue as far as the school, indicating all the houses +and other features. The whole distance traversed did +not exceed two hundred yards.</p> + +<p class='c011'>A few minutes before two o’clock on the afternoon of +her disappearance Marie Severe set out as usual for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>Miss Chibwell’s school. Since the incident of the unfortunate +encounter with her former husband Mrs +Severe had considered it necessary to exercise a peculiar +vigilance over her only child. Thenceforward Marie +never went out alone; never, with the exception of the +short walk to school and back, that is to say, for in +that quiet straight road, in the full light of day, it was +ridiculous to imagine that anything could happen. It +was ridiculous, but all the same the vaguely uneasy +woman generally walked to the garden gate with the +little girl and watched her until the diminished figure +passed, with a last gay wave of hand or satchel, out of +her sight into the school-yard.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That’s how it would have been on this occasion,” +narrated Beedel, “only just as they got to the garden +gate a tradesman whom Mrs Severe wanted to speak +with drove up and passed in by the back way. The +lady looked along the avenue, and as it happened at +that moment Miss Chibwell was standing in the road +by her gate. No one else was in sight, so it isn’t to be +wondered at that Mrs Severe went back to the house +immediately without another thought.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That was the last that has been seen of Marie. As +a matter of fact, Miss Chibwell turned back into her +garden almost as soon as Mrs Severe did. When the +child did not appear for the afternoon school the mistress +thought nothing of it. She is a little short-sighted +and although she had seen the two at their gate she concluded +that they were going out together somewhere. +Consequently it was not until four o’clock, when Marie +did not return home, that the alarm was raised.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Continuous narration was not congenial to Inspector +Beedel’s mental attitude. He made frequent pauses +as though to invite cross-examination. Sometimes +<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>Carrados ignored the opening, at others he found it +more convenient to comply.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The inference is that someone was waiting in this +space just beyond Arling Lodge?” he now contributed.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I think it is reasonable to assume that, sir. Premeditated, +we both admit. Doubtless a favourable +opportunity was being looked for and there it was. At +all events there”—he tapped the <span class="sans-x">X</span> as the paper lay +beneath Carrados’s hand—“there is the very last trace +that we can rely on.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The scent, you mean?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, Mr Carrados. We got one of our dogs down +the next morning and put him on the trail. We gave +him the scent of a boot and from the gate he brought +us without a pause to where I have marked this <span class="sans-x">X</span>. +There the line ended. There can be no doubt that +from that point the girl had been picked up and carried. +That is a very remarkable thing. It could scarcely +have been done openly past the houses. The fences +on all sides are of such a nature that it is incredible for +any man to have got an unwilling or insensible burden +of that sort over without at least laying it down in the +process. If our dog is to be trusted, it wasn’t laid +down. Some sort of a vehicle remains. We find no +recent wheel-marks and no one seems to have seen anything +that would answer about at that time.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You are determined to mystify me, Inspector,” +smiled Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m that way myself, sir,” said the detective.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And I know you too well to ask if you have done +this and that——”</p> + +<p class='c011'><a id='tn-modestly'></a>“I’ve done everything,” admitted Beedel modestly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Is this <span class="sans-x">X</span> spot commanded by any of the houses? +Here is Arling Lodge——”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>“There is one window overlooking, but now the trees +are too much out for anything to be seen. Besides, it’s +only a passage window. Dr Ellerslie took me up there +himself to settle the point.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ellerslie—Dr Ellerslie?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The gentleman who lives there. At least he doesn’t +live altogether there, as I understand that he has it +for a week-end place. Boating, I believe, sir. His +regular practice is in town.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Harley Street? Prescott Ellerslie, do you know?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is the same, Mr Carrados.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, a very well-known man. He has a great +reputation as an operator for peritonitis. Nothing less +than fifty guineas a time, Inspector.” Perhaps the fee +did not greatly impress Mr Carrados, but he doubtless +judged that it would interest Inspector Beedel. “And +this house on the other side—Lyncote?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A retired Indian army colonel lives there—Colonel +Doige.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I mean as regards overlooking the spot.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No; it is quite cut off from there. It cannot be +seen.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados’s interpreting finger stopped lightly over a +detail of the plan that it was again exploring. The +Inspector’s pencil had now added a line of dots leading +from The Hollies gate to the <span class="sans-x">X</span>.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The line the dog took,” Beedel explained, following +the other’s movement. “You notice that the girl turned +sharply out of the avenue into this opening at right +angles.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I was just considering that.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Something took her attention suddenly or someone +called her there—I wonder what, Mr Carrados.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>“I wonder,” echoed the blind man, raising the anonymous +letter to his face again.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carrados frequently professed to find inspiration +in the surroundings of light and brilliance to which +his physical sense was dead, but when he wished to +go about his work with everyone else at a notable +disadvantage he not unnaturally chose the dark. It was +therefore night when, in accordance with his promise +to Beedel, he motored round by Swanstead, or, more +exactly, it was morning, for the clock in the square +ivied tower of the parish church struck two as the car +switchbacked over the humped bridge from Middlesex +into Surrey.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This will do, Harris; wait here,” he said a little +later. He knew that there were trees above and wide +open spaces on both sides. The station lay just beyond, +and from the station to Arling Avenue was a negligible +step. Even at that hour Arling Avenue might have +been awake to the intrusion of an alien car of rather +noticeable proportions.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The adaptable Harris picked out Mr Carrados’s most +substantial rug and went to sleep, to dream of a wayside +cycle shop and tea-rooms where he could devote +himself to pedigree Wyandottes. With Parkinson at +his elbow Carrados walked slowly on to Arling Avenue. +What was lacking on Beedel’s plan Parkinson’s eyes +supplied; on a subtler plane, in the moist, warm night, +full of quiet sounds and earthy odours, other details +were filled in like the work of a lightning cartoonist +before the blind man’s understanding.</p> + +<p class='c011'>They walked the length of the avenue once and then +returned to the grassy opening where the last trace of +Marie Severe had evaporated.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I will stay here. You walk on back to the highroad +<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>and wait for me. I may be some time. If I +want you, you will hear the whistle.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very good, sir.” Parkinson knew of old that there +were times when his master would have no human eye +upon him as he went about his work, and with a magnificent +stolidity the man had not a particle of curiosity. +It did not even occur to him to wonder. But for nearly +half-an-hour the more inquiring creatures of the night +looked down—or up, according to their natures—to +observe the strange attitudes and quiet persistence of +the disturber of the solitude as he crossed and recrossed +their little domain, studied its boundaries, and explored +every corner of its miniature thickets. A single petal +picked up near the locked door to the garden of Arling +Lodge seemed a small return for such perseverance, +but it is to be presumed that the patient search had +not been in vain, for it was immediately after the discovery +that Carrados left the opening, and with the +cool effrontery that marked his methods he opened the +front gate of Dr Ellerslie’s garden and made his way +with slow but unerring insight along the boundary wall.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A blind man,” he had once replied to Mr Carlyle’s +nervous remonstrance—“a blind man carries on his +face a sufficient excuse for every indiscretion.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>It was nearly three o’clock when, by the light of the +street lamp at the corner of the avenue and the highroad, +Parkinson saw his master approaching. But to +the patient and excellent servitor’s disappointment +Carrados at that moment turned back and retraced his +steps in the same leisurely manner. As a matter of +fact, a new consideration had occurred to the blind +man and he continued to pace up and down the footpath +as he considered it.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, sir!”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>He stopped at once, but betraying no surprise, without +the start which few can restrain when addressed +suddenly in the dark. It was always dark to him, but +was it ever sudden? Was he indeed ignorant of the +obscure figure that had appeared at the gate during his +perambulation?</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have seen you walking up and down at this hour +and I wondered—I wondered whether you had any +news.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Who are you?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am Mrs Severe. My little girl Marie disappeared +from here two weeks ago. You must surely know +about it; everybody does.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, I know,” he admitted. “Inspector Beedel +told me.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, Inspector Beedel!” There was obvious disappointment +in her voice. “He is very kind and +promises—but nothing comes of it, and the days go on, +the days go on,” she repeated tragically.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ida! Ida!” Someone was calling from one of +the upper windows, but Carrados was speaking also +and Mrs Severe merely waved her hand back towards +the house without responding.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Your little girl was very fond of flowers?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh yes, indeed.” The pleasant recollection dwarfed +the poor lady’s present sense of calamity and for a +moment she was quite bright. “She loved them. She +would bury her face in a bunch of flowers and drink +their scent. She almost lived in the garden. They +were more to her than toys or dolls, I am sure. But +how do you know?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I only guessed.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ida! Ida!” The rather insistent, nasally querulous +<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>voice was raised again and this time Mrs Severe +replied.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, dear, immediately,” she called back, still lingering, +however, to discover whether she had anything +to hope from this outlandish visitant.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Had Marie been ill recently?” Carrados detained +her with the question.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ill! Oh no.” The reply was instant and emphatic. +It was almost—if one could credit a mother’s +pride in her child’s health being carried to such a +length—it was almost resentful.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nothing that required the services of a doctor?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Marie never requires the services of a doctor.” +The tone, distant and constrained, made it clear that +Mrs Severe had given up any expectations in this +quarter. “My child, I am glad to say, does not know +what illness means,” she added deliberately.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ida! Oh, here you are.” The very unromantically +accoutred form of a keen-visaged, middle-aged +female, padding heavily in bedroom slippers along the +garden walk, gave its quietus to the situation. “What +a scare you gave me, dearie. Why, whoever——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good-night,” said Mrs Severe, turning from the +gate.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados raised his hat and resumed his interrupted +stroll. He had not sought the interview and he made +no effort to prolong it, for there was little to be got from +that source.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A strange flare of maternal pride,” he remarked in +his usual detached fashion as he rejoined Parkinson.</p> + +<p class='c011'>About five o’clock on the same day—five o’clock in +the afternoon, let it be understood—Inspector Beedel +was called to the telephone.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, nothing fresh so far, Mr Carrados,” he reported +<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>when he identified his caller. “I shan’t forget to let +you know whenever there is.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But I think that possibly there is,” replied Mr +Carrados. “Or at least there might be if you went +down to Arling Lodge and insisted on seeing the child +who slept there last night.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Arling Lodge? Dr Ellerslie’s? You don’t mean +to say, sir——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is for you to satisfy yourself. Dr Ellerslie is +a widower with no children. Marie Severe was drugged +by phronolal on some flowers which she was given. +Phronolal is a new anæsthetic which is practically unknown +outside medical circles. She was carried into +the garden of Arling Lodge and into the house. The +bunch of flowers was thrown down temporarily inside +the wall, probably while the door was relocked. The +girl’s hair caught on a raspberry cane six yards from +the back door along the path leading there. Ellerslie +had previously sent away the two people who look +after the place—a housekeeper and her husband who +sees to the garden. That letter, by the way, was +associable with phronolal. Now you have all that I +know, Inspector, and I hope to goodness that I am +clear of it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But, good heavens, Mr Carrados, this is really +terrible!” protested Beedel, moved to emotion in spite +of his rich experience of questionable humanity. “A +man in his position! Is he a maniac?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t know. To tell you frankly, Inspector, I +haven’t gone an inch further than I was compelled to +go in order to be sure. Make use of the information as +you like, but I don’t want to have anything more to do +with the case. It isn’t a pleasant thing to have pulled +down a man like Ellerslie—a callous, exacting machine +<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>in the operating-room, one hears, but a man who was +doing fine work—saving useful lives every day. I’m +sick of it, Beedel, that’s all.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I understand, sir. Still, there’s the other side, +isn’t there, after all? Of course I’ll keep your name +out of it as you wish, but I shall be given a good deal +of credit that I oughtn’t to accept. If you don’t do +anything for a few weeks the papers are always more +complimentary when you do do it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m afraid that you will have to put up with that,” +replied Carrados drily.</p> + +<p class='c011'>There was an acquiescent laugh from the other end +and a reference to the speaker’s indebtedness. Then: +“Well, I’ll get the necessary authority and go down at +once, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes. Good-bye,” said Carrados. He hung up the +receiver with the only satisfaction that he had experienced +since he had fixed on Ellerslie—satisfaction to +have done with it. The thing was unpalatable enough +in itself, and to add another element of distaste, through +one or two circumstances that had come his way in the +past, he had an actual regard for the surgeon whom +some called brutal, but who was universally admitted +to be splendidly efficient. It would have been a much +more congenial business to the blind man to clear him +than to implicate. He betook himself to a tray of +Sicilian coins of the autonomous period to get the taste +out of his mouth and swore that he would not read a +word of any stage of the proceedings.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A Mr Severe wishes to see you, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>So it happened that about an hour after he had +definitely shelved his interest in the case Max Carrados +was again drawn into its complications. Had Severe +been merely a well-to-do suppliant, perhaps … but +<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>the blind man had enough of the vagabond spirit to +ensure his sympathy towards one whom he knew, on the +contrary, to be extremely ill-to-do. In a flash of imagination +he saw the outcast walking from Red Lion +Street to Richmond, and, denied admission, from Richmond +back to Red Lion Street again, because he hadn’t +sixpence to squander, the man who always bought a +little toy.…</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is nearly seven, isn’t it, Parkinson? Mr Severe +will stay and dine with me,” were almost the first words +the visitor heard.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very well, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I? Dine?” interposed Severe quickly. “No, no. +I really——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If you will be so good as to keep me company,” +said Carrados with suave determination. Parkinson +retired, knowing that the thing was settled. “I am +quite alone, Mr Severe, and my selfishness takes that +form. If a man calls on me about breakfast-time he +must stay to breakfast, at lunch-time to lunch, and so +on.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Your friends, doubtless,” suggested Severe with +latent bitterness.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, I am inclined to describe anyone who will +lighten my darkness for an hour as a friend. You +would yourself in the circumstances, you know.” And +then, quite unconsciously, under this treatment the +years of degradation suddenly slipped from Severe and +he found himself accepting the invitation in the conventional +phrases and talking to his host just as though +they were two men of the same world in the old times. +Guessing what had brought him, and knowing that it +mattered little or nothing then, Carrados kept his guest +clear of the subject of the disappearance until they were +<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>alone again after dinner. Then, to be denied no longer, +Severe tackled it with a blunt inquiry:</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Scotland Yard has been consulting you about Marie, +Mr Carrados?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Surely that is not in the papers?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t know,” replied Severe, “but they aren’t my +authority. Among the people I have mostly to do with +many shrewd bits of information circulate that never +get into the Press. Sometimes they are mere bead-work, +of course, but quite often they have ground. +Just at present I am something of a celebrity in my +usual haunts—I am ‘Jones’ in town, by the way, but +my identity has come out—and everything to do with +the notorious Severe affair comes round to me. I hear +that Inspector Beedel, who has the case in hand, has +just been to see you. Your co-operation is inferred.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And if so?” queried Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If so,” continued his visitor, “I have a word to say. +Beedel got it into his thick, unimaginative skull that +I must be the kidnapper because, on the orthodox +‘motive’ lines, he couldn’t fix on anyone else. As a +matter of fact, Mr Carrados, I have rather too much +affection for my little daughter to have taken her out +of a comfortable home. My unfortunate wife may +have her faults—I don’t mind admitting that she has—serious +faults and a great many of them, but she would +at least give Marie decent surroundings. When I +heard of the child’s disappearance—it was in the early +evening papers the next morning—I was distracted. I +dreaded every edition to see a placard announcing that +the body had been found and to read the usual horrible +details of insane or bestial outrage. I searched my +pockets and found a shilling and a few coppers. Without +any clear idea of what I expected to do, I tore off +<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>to the station and spent my money on a third single to +Swanstead.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh,” interposed Carrados, “the 1.17 arrival?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Severe laughed contemptuously.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The station porter, you mean?” he said. “Yes; +that bright youth merely predated his experience by +twenty-four hours when he saw that there was bunce +in it a few days later. Oh, I dare say he really thought +it then. As for me, before I had got to Swanstead I +had realised my mistake. What could I do in any case? +Nothing that the least efficient local bobby could not +do much better. Least of all did I wish to meet Ida—Mrs +Severe. No; I walked out of the station, turned +to the right instead of the left and padded back to +town.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And you have come now, a fortnight or more after, +to tell me this, Mr Severe?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, I have come to have small hopes of Beedel. +At first I didn’t care two straws what they thought, +expecting every hour to hear the worst. But that may +not have happened. Two weeks have passed without +anything being found, so that the child may be alive +somewhere. If you are taking it up there is a chance—provided +only that you don’t let them obsess you with +the idea that I have had anything to do with it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t imagine that you have had anything to do +with it, Mr Severe, and I believe that Marie is still +alive.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Thank God for that,” said Severe with sudden intensity. +“I am very, very glad to hear you express +that opinion, Mr Carrados. I don’t suppose that I +shall see much of the girl as time goes on or that she +will be taught to regard the Fifth Commandment very +seriously. All the same, the relief of hearing that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>makes me your debtor for ever.… Anxious as I am, +I will be content with that. I won’t worry you for +your clues or your ideas … but I will tell you one +thing. It may amuse you. <em>My</em> notion, a few days +ago, of what might have happened——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes?” encouraged his host.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It shows you the wild ideas one gets in such circumstances. +My former wife is, if I may be permitted to +say so, the most amiable and devoted creature in the +world. Subject to that, I will readily concede that a +more self-opinionated, credulous, dogmatically wrong-headed +and crank-ridden woman does not exist. There +isn’t a silly fad that she hasn’t taken up—and what’s +more tragic, absolutely believed in for the time—from +ozonised milk to rhythmic yawning. Some time ago +she was swept into Christian Science. An atrocious +harpy called Julp—a professional ‘healer’—fastened on +her and has dominated her ever since. Well, fantastic +as it seems now, I was actually prepared to believe that +Marie had been ill and under their really sincere but +grotesque ‘healing’ had died. Then to hide the failure +of their creed or because they got panic-stricken——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Then Carrados interrupted, an incivility he rarely +committed.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, yes, I see,” he said quickly. “But your +daughter never is ill?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Never ill? Marie? Oh, isn’t she! In the past six +months I’ve——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But Mrs Severe deliberately said—her words—that +Marie ‘does not know what illness means.’”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That’s their jargon. They hold that illness does +not exist and so it has no meaning. But I should +describe Marie as a delicate child on the whole—bilious +attacks and so on.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>“Christian Scientists … gastric trouble … +Prescott Ellerslie? Good heavens! This comes of +half doing a thing,” muttered Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nothing wrong, I hope?” ventured the visitor.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Wait.” Severe wondered what the deuce turn the +business was taking, but there being no incentive to +do anything else, he waited. Coffee, rather more fragrant +than that purveyed at the nocturnal stall, and fat +Egyptian cigarettes of a subtle aroma somehow failed +nevertheless to make the time pass quickly. Yet five +minutes would have covered Carrados’s absence.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nothing wrong, but an unfortunate oversight,” he +remarked when he returned. “I was too late to catch +Beedel, so we must try to mend matters at the other +end if we can. I shall have to ask you to go with me. +I have ordered the car and I can tell you how we stand +on the way.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I shall be glad if you can make any use of me,” said +Severe.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I hope that I may. And as for anything being +wrong,” added Carrados with deliberation, “so far as +Marie is concerned I think we may find that the +one thing necessary for her future welfare has been +achieved.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That’s all I ask,” said Severe.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But it isn’t all that I ask,” retorted the blind man +almost sharply.</p> + +<p class='c011'>This time there was nothing clandestine about the +visit to Arling Avenue. On the contrary, the pace they +kept up made it necessary that the horn should give +pretty continuous notice of their presence. If it was +a race, however, they had the satisfaction of being +successful: the manner—more suggestive of the trained +nurse than the domestic servant—of the maid who came +<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>to the door of Arling Lodge made it clear to Carrados, +apart from any other indication, that the catastrophe of +Beedel’s arrival had not yet been launched. When +the young person at the door began conscientiously, but +with obvious inexperience, to prevaricate with the truth, +the caller merely accepted her statements and wrote a +few words on his card.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“When Dr Ellerslie does return, will you please give +him this at once?” he said. “I will wait.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>It is to be inferred that the great specialist’s return +had been providentially timed, for Carrados was +scarcely seated when Prescott Ellerslie hurried into the +room with the visiting-card in his hand.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Carrados?” he postulated. “Will you please +explain this rather unusually worded request for an +interview?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Certainly I will,” replied Carrados. “The wording +is prompted by the necessity of compelling your immediate +attention. The interview is the outcome of +my desire to be of use to you.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Thank you,” said Ellerslie with non-committal +courtesy. “And the occasion?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The occasion is the impending visit of Inspector +Beedel from Scotland Yard, not, this time, to look out +of your landing window, but to demand the surrender +of the missing Marie Severe and, if you deny any +knowledge of her, armed with authority to search your +house.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh,” replied the doctor with astonishing composure. +“And if the situation develops on the lines which you +have so pointedly indicated, how do you propose to +help me?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That depends a little on your explanation of the +circumstances.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>“Surely between Mr Carrados and Scotland Yard +there is nothing that remains to be explained!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Carrados can only speak for himself,” replied +the blind man with unmoved good humour. “And in +his case there are several things to be explained. There +is probably not a great deal of time before the Inspector’s +arrival, but there may be enough if you are +disposed——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very well,” acquiesced Ellerslie. “You are quite +right in assuming Marie Severe to be in this house. I +had her brought here … out of revenge, to redress +an old and very grievous injury. Perhaps you had +guessed that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not in those terms,” said Carrados mildly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yet so it was. Ten years ago a very sweet and +precious little child, my only daughter, was wantonly +done to death by an ignorant and credulous woman +who had charge of her, in the tenets of her faith. It +is called Christian Science. The opportunity was put +before me and to-day I stand convicted of having outraged +every social and legal form by snatching Marie +Severe from just that same fate.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados nodded gravely.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” he assented. “That is the thing I missed.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I used to see her on her way to school, whenever I +was here,” went on the doctor wistfully, “and soon I +came to watch for her and to know the times at which +she ought to pass. She was of all living creatures the +gayest and the most vivid, glowing and vibrant with +the compelling joy of life, a little being of wonderful +grace, delicacy and charm. She had, I found when I +came to know her somewhat, that distinction of manner +which one is prone to associate unreasonably only with +the children of the great and wealthy—a young nobility. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>In much she reminded me constantly of my own lost +child; in other ways she attracted me by her diversity. +Such, Mr Carrados, was the nature of my interest in +Marie Severe.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t know the Severes and I have never even +spoken to the mother. I believe that she has only lived +here about a year, and in any case I have no concern in +the social life of Swanstead. But a few months ago +my worthy old housekeeper struck up an acquaintance +with one of Mrs Severe’s servants, a staid, middle-aged +person who had gone into the family as Marie’s nurse. +The friendship begun down our respective gardens—they +adjoin—developed to the stage of these two dames +taking tea occasionally with one another. My Mrs +Glass is a garrulous old woman. Hitherto my difficulty +had often been to keep her quiet. Now I let her talk +and deftly steered the conversation. I learned that +my neighbours were Christian Scientists and had a so-called +‘healer’ living with them. The information struck +me with a sudden dread.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘I suppose they are never ill, then?’ I inquired +carelessly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mrs Severe had not been ill since she had embraced +Christian Science, and Miss Julp was described in a +phrase obviously of her own importing as being ‘all +selvage.’ The servants were allowed to see a doctor if +they wished, although they were strongly pressed to +have done with such ‘trickery’ in dispelling a mere +‘illusion.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘And isn’t there a child?’ I asked.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Marie, it appeared, had from time to time suffered +from the ‘illusion’ that she had not felt well—had +suffered pain. Under Miss Julp’s spiritual treatment +the ‘hallucination’ had been dispelled. Mrs Glass had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>laughed, looked very knowing and then given her friend +away in her appreciation of the joke. The faithful +nurse had accepted the situation and as soon as her +mistress’s back was turned had doctored Marie according +to her own simple notions. Under this double +influence the child had always picked up again, but +the two women had ominously speculated what would +happen if she fell ‘really ill.’ I led her on to details of +the sicknesses—their symptoms, frequency and so on. +It was a congenial topic between the motherly old +creature and the nurse and I could not have had a +better medium. I learned a good deal from her chatter. +It did not reassure me.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“From that time, without allowing my interest to +appear, I sought better opportunities to see the child. +I inspired Mrs Glass to suggest to the nurse that Miss +Marie might come and explore the garden here—it is a +large and tangled place, such as an adventuring child +would love to roam in, and this one, as I found, was +passionately fond of flowers and growing things and +birds and little animals. I got a pair of tame squirrels +and turned them loose here. You can guess her enchantment +when she discovered them. I went out +with nuts for her to give them and we were friends at +once. All the time I was examining her without her +knowledge. I don’t suppose it ever occurred to her +that I might be a doctor. The result practically confirmed +the growing suspicion that everything I had +heard pointed to. And the tragic irony of the situation +was that it had been appendicitis that my child—<em>my</em> +child—had perished from!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, so this was appendicitis, then?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes. It was appendicitis of that insidious and misleading +type to which children are particularly liable. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>These apparently negligible turns at intervals of weeks +were really inflammation of the appendix and the +condition was inevitably passing into one of general +suppurative peritonitis. Very soon there would come +another ‘illusion’ according to the mother and Miss +Julp, another ‘bilious turn’ according to the nurse, +similar to those already experienced, but apparently +more obstinate. The Christian Scientists would argue +with it, Hannah would surreptitiously dose it. This +time, however, it would hang on. Still there would be +no really very alarming symptoms to wring the natural +affection of the mother, nothing severe enough to drive +the nurse into mutiny. The pulse running at about +140 would be the last thing they would notice.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And then?” Ellerslie was pacing the room in +savage indignation, but Carrados had Beedel’s impending +visit continually before him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then she would be dead. Quite suddenly and unceremoniously +this fair young life, which in ten minutes +I could render immune from this danger for all the +future, would go clean out—extinguished to demonstrate +that appendicitis does not exist and that Mind is +All in All. If my diagnosis was correct there could be +no appeal, no shockful realisation of the true position +to give the mother a chance. It would be inevitable, +but it would be quite unlooked for.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What was I to do, should you say, Mr Carrados, in +this emergency? I had dealt with these fanatics before +and I knew that if I took so unusual a course as to go +to Mrs Severe I should at the best be met by polite +incredulity and a text from Mrs Mary Baker Eddy’s +immortal work. And by doing that I should have made +any other line of action risky, if not impossible. You, +I believe, are a humane man. What was I to do?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>“What you did do,” said his visitor, “was about the +most dangerous thing that a doctor could be mixed up +in.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh no,” replied Ellerslie, “he does a much more +dangerous thing whenever he operates on a septiferous +subject, whenever he enters a fever-stricken house. +To career and reputation, you would say; but, believe +me, Mr Carrados, life is quite as important as livelihood, +and every doctor does that sort of thing every +day. Well, like many very ordinary men whom you +may meet, I am something of a maniac and something +of a mystic. Incredible as it will doubtless seem to the +world to-morrow, I found that, at the risk of my professional +career, at the risk, possibly, of a criminal conviction, +the greatest thing that I should ever do would +be to save this one exquisite young life. Elsewhere +other men just as good could take my place, but here +it was I and I alone.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, you did it?” prompted Carrados. “I must +remind you that the time presses and I want to know +the facts.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, I did it. I won’t delay with the precautions I +had taken in securing the child or with the scheme that +I had worked out for returning her. I believed that I +had a very good chance of coming through undiscovered +and I infer that I have to thank you that I did not. +Marie has not the slightest idea where she is and when +I go into the room I am sufficiently disguised. She +thinks that she has had an accident.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Of course you must have had assistance?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have had the devoted help of an assistant and +two nurses, but the whole responsibility is mine. I +managed to send off Mrs Glass and her husband for a +holiday so as to keep them out of it. That was after I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>had decided upon the operation. To justify what I was +about to do there had to be no mistake about the +necessity. I contrived a final test.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Less than three weeks ago I saw Hannah and the +little girl come to the house one afternoon. Shortly +afterwards Mrs Glass knocked at my door. Could she +ask Hannah to tea and, as Mrs Severe and her friend +were being out until late, might Miss Marie also stay? +There was, as she knew, no need for her to ask me, +but my housekeeper is primitive in her ideas of duty. +Of course I readily assented, but I suggested that Marie +should have tea with me; and so it was arranged.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Before tea she amused herself about the garden. +I told her to gather me a bunch of flowers and when she +came in with them I noticed that she had scratched her +arm with a thorn. I hurried through the meal, for I +had then determined what to do. When we had finished, +without ringing the bell, I gave her a chair in +front of the fire and sat down opposite her. There was +a true story about a clever goose that I had promised +her.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘But you are going to sleep, Marie,’ I said, looking +at her fixedly. ‘It is the heat of the fire.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘I think I must be,’ she admitted drowsily. ‘Oh, +how silly. I can scarcely keep my eyes open.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘You are going to sleep,’ I repeated. ‘You are +very, very tired.’ I raised my hand and moved it +slowly before her face. ‘You can hardly see my hand +now. Your eyes are closed. When I stop speaking +you will be asleep.’ I dropped my hand and she was +fast asleep.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I had made my arrangements and had everything +ready. From her arm, where the puncture of the +needle was masked by the scratch, I secured a few +<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>drops of blood. Then I applied a simple styptic to the +place and verified by a more leisurely examination some +of the symptoms I had already looked for. When I +woke her, a few minutes later, she had no inkling of +what had passed.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Why,’ I was saying as she awakened, ‘I don’t +believe that you have heard a word about old Solomon!’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I applied the various laboratory tests to the blood +which I had obtained without delay. The result, taken +in conjunction with the other symptoms, was conclusive. +I was resolved upon my course from that moment. +The operation itself was simple and completely +successful. The condition demonstrated the pressing +necessity for what I did. Marie Severe will probably +outlive her mother now—especially if the lady remains +faithful to Christian Science. As for the sequel … I +am sorry, but I don’t regret.”</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>“A surprise, eh, Inspector?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Inspector Beedel, accompanied by Mrs Severe and—if +the comparative degree may be used to indicate her +relative importance—even more accompanied by Miss +Julp, had arrived at Arling Lodge and been given immediate +admission. It was Carrados who thus greeted +him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Beedel looked at his friend and then at Dr Ellerslie. +With unconscious habit he even noticed the proportions +of the room, the position of the door and window, +and the chief articles of furniture. His mind moved +rather slowly, but always logically, and in cases where +“sound intelligence” sufficed he was rarely unsuccessful. +He had brought Mrs Severe to identify Marie, whom he +had never seen, and his men remained outside within +whistle-call in case of any emergency. He now saw +<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>that he might have to shift his ground and he at once +proceeded cautiously.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, sir,” he admitted, “I did not expect to see +you here.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nor did I anticipate coming. Mrs Severe”—he +bowed to her—“I think that we have already met informally. +Your friend, Miss Julp, unless I am mistaken? +It is a good thing that we are all here.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is my name, sir,” struck in the recalcitrant +Cornelia, “but I am not aware——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“At the gate early—very early—this morning, Miss +Julp. I recognise your step. But accept my assurance, +my dear lady”—for Miss Julp had given a start of +maidenly confusion at the recollection—“that although +I heard, I did <em>not</em> see you. Well, Inspector, I have +since found that I misled you. The mistake was mine—a +fundamental error. You were right. Mrs Severe +was right. Dr Ellerslie is unassailably right. I speak +for him because it was I who fastened an unsupportable +motive on his actions. Marie Severe is in this house, +but she was received here by Dr Ellerslie in his professional +capacity and strictly in the relation of doctor +and patient.… Mr Severe has at length admitted +that he alone is to blame. You see, you were right +after all.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Arthur! Oh!” exclaimed Mrs Severe, deeply +moved.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But why,” demanded the other lady hostilely, +“why should the man want her here?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Severe was apprehensive on account of his +daughter’s health,” replied Carrados gravely. “His +story is that, fearing something serious, he submitted +her to this eminent specialist, who found a dangerous—a +critical—condition that could only be removed by +<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>immediate operation. Dr Ellerslie has saved your +daughter’s life, Mrs Severe.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Fiddlesticks!” shouted Miss Julp excitedly. “It’s +an outrage—a criminal outrage. An operation! There +was no danger—there couldn’t be with <em>me</em> at hand. +You’ve done it this time, <em>Doctor</em> Ellerslie. My gosh, +but this will be a case!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mrs Severe sank into a chair, pale and trembling.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I can scarcely believe it,” she managed to say. “It +is a crime. Dr Ellerslie—no doctor had the right. +Mr Severe has no authority whatever. The court gave +me sole control of Marie.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Excuse me,” put in Carrados with the blandness of +perfect self-control and cognisance of his point, “excuse +me, but have you ever informed Dr Ellerslie of that +ruling?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No,” admitted Mrs Severe with faint surprise. +“No. Why should I?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Quite so. Why should you? But have you any +knowledge that Dr Ellerslie is acquainted with the details +of your unhappy domestic differences?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I do not know at all. What do these things +matter?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Only this: Why should Dr Ellerslie question the +authority of a parent who brings his child? It shows +at least that he is the one who is concerned about her +welfare. For all Dr Ellerslie knew, you might be the +unauthorised one, Mrs Severe. A doctor can scarcely +be expected to withhold a critical operation while he +investigates the family affairs of his patients.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But all this time—this dreadful suspense. He +must have known.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados shrugged his shoulders and seemed to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>glance across the room to where their host had so far +stood immovable.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I did know, Mrs Severe. I could not help knowing. +But I knew something else, and to a doctor the +interests of his patient must overrule every ordinary +consideration. Should the occasion arise, I shall be +prepared at any time to justify my silence.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, the occasion will arise and pretty sharp, don’t +you fear,” chimed in the irrepressible Miss Julp. +“There’s a sight more in this business, Ida, than we’ve +got at yet. A mighty cute idea putting up Severe now. +I never did believe that he was in it. He’s a piece too +mean-spirited to have the nerve. And where is Arthur +Severe now? Gone, of course; quit the country and +at someone else’s expense.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not at all,” said Carrados very obligingly. “Since +you ask, Miss Julp”—he raised his voice—“Mr +Severe!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The door opened and Severe strolled into the room +with great sang-froid. He bowed distantly to his wife +and nodded familiarly to the police official.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, Inspector,” he remarked, “you’ve cornered +me at last, you see.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m not so sure of that,” retorted Beedel shortly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, come now; you are too modest. My unconvincing +alibi that you broke down. The printed letter +so conclusively from my hand. And Grigson—your +irrefutable, steadfast witness from the station here, +Inspector. There’s no getting round Grigson now, you +know.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Beedel rubbed his chin helpfully but made no answer. +Things seemed to have reached a momentary impasse.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Perhaps we may at least all sit down,” suggested +<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>Ellerslie, to break the silence. “There are rather a lot +of us, but I think the chairs will go round.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If I wasn’t just dead tired I would sooner drop +than sit down in the house of a man calling himself a +doctor,” declared Miss Julp. Then she sat down rather +heavily. Sharp on the action came a piercing yell, a +deep-wrung “Yag!” of pain and alarm, and the lady +was seen bounding to her feet, to turn and look suspiciously +at the place she had just vacated.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It was a needle, Cornelia,” said Mrs Severe, who +sat next to her. “See, here it is.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Dear me, how unfortunate,” exclaimed Ellerslie, +following the action; “one of my surgical needles. I +do hope that it has been properly sterilised since the +last operation.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What’s that?” demanded Miss Julp sharply.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well,” explained the doctor slowly, “I mean that +there is such a thing as blood-poisoning. At least,” he +amended, “for me there is such a thing as blood-poisoning. +For you, fortunately, it does not exist. +Any more than pain does,” he added thoughtfully.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you mean,” demanded Miss Julp with slow precision, +“that through your carelessness, your criminal +carelessness, I run any risk of blood-poisoning?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Cornelia!” exclaimed Mrs Severe in pale incredulity.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Of course not,” retorted the surgeon. “How can +you if such a thing does not exist?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t care whether it exists or not——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Cornelia!” repeated her faithful disciple in horror.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Be quiet, Ida. This is my business. It isn’t like +an ordinary illness. I’ve always had a horror of blood-poisoning. +I have nightmare about it. My father +died of it. He had to have glass tubes put in his veins, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>and the night he died——Oh, I tell you I can’t stand +the thought of it. There’s nothing else I believe in, +but blood-poisoning——” She shuddered. “I tell you, +doctor,” she declared with a sudden descent to the +practical, “if I get laid up from this you’ll have to stand +the racket, and pretty considerable damages as well.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But at the worst this is a very simple matter,” +protested Ellerslie. “If you will let me dress the +place——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Miss Julp went as red as a swarthy-complexioned +lady of forty-five could be expected to go.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“How can I let you dress the place?” she snapped. +“It is——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, Cornelia, Cornelia!” exclaimed Mrs Severe reproachfully, +through her disillusioned tears, “would you +really be so false to the great principles which you have +taught me?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have a trained nurse here,” suggested the doctor. +“She would do it as well as I could.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Are you really going?” demanded Mrs Severe, for +there was no doubt that Miss Julp was going and going +with alacrity.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t abate one iota of my principles, Ida,” she +remarked. “But one has to discriminate. There are +natural illnesses and there are unnatural illnesses. We +say with truth that there can be no death, but no one +will deny that Christian Scientists do, as a matter of +fact, in the ordinary sense, die. Perhaps this is rather +beyond you yet, dear, but I hope that some day you +will see it in the light of its deeper mystery.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you?” replied Mrs Severe with cold disdain. +“At present I only see that there is one law of indulgence +for yourself and another for your dupes.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“After all,” interposed Ellerslie, “this embarrassing +<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>discussion need never have arisen. I now see that the +offending implement is only one of Mrs Glass’s darning +needles. How careless of her! You need have no fear, +Miss Julp.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, you coward!” exclaimed Miss Julp breathlessly. +“You coward! I won’t stay here a moment +longer. I will go home.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I won’t detain you,” said Mrs Severe as Cornelia +passed her. “Your home is in Chicago, I believe? Ann +will help you to pack.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados rose and touched Beedel on the arm.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You and I are not wanted here, Inspector,” he +whispered. “The bottom’s dropped out of the case,” +and they slipped away together.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mrs Severe looked across the room towards her late +husband, hesitated and then slowly walked up to him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There is a great deal here that I do not understand,” +she said, “but is not this so, that you were willing +to go to prison to shield this man who has been good +to Marie?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Severe flushed a little. Then he dropped his deliberate +reply.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am willing to go to hell for this man for his goodness +to Marie,” he said curtly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh!” exclaimed Mrs Severe with a little cry. “I +wish——You never said that you would go to hell +for me!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The outcast stared. Then a curious look, a twisted +smile of tenderness and half-mocking humour crossed +his features.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My dear,” he responded gravely, “perhaps not. +But I often thought it!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Dr Ellerslie, who had followed out the last two of his +departing guests, looked in at the door.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>“Marie is awake, I hear,” he said. “Will you go up +now, Mrs Severe?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>With a shy smile the lady held out her hand towards +the shabby man.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You must go with me, Arthur,” she stipulated.</p> + +</div> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span></div> +<div class='chapter' id='chapter-3'> + +<div> + <h2 class='c006'>III<br> <br>The Secret of Dunstan’s Tower</h2> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_15_0_65 c010'><span class="uppercase">It</span> was a peculiarity of Mr Carrados that he could +drop the most absorbing occupation of his daily life +at a moment’s notice if need be, apply himself +exclusively to the solution of some criminological problem, +possibly a matter of several days, and at the end +of the time return and take up the thread of his private +business exactly where he had left it.</p> + +<p class='c011'>On the morning of the 3rd of September he was dictating +to his secretary a monograph to which he had +given the attractive title, “The Portrait of Alexander +the Great, as Jupiter Ammon, on an unedited octadrachm +of Macedonia,” when a telegram was brought +in. Greatorex, the secretary, dealt with such communications +as a matter of course, and, taking the envelope +from Parkinson’s salver, he cut it open in the pause +between a couple of sentences.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This is a private matter of yours, sir,” he remarked, +after glancing at the message. “Handed in at Netherhempsfield, +10.48 <span class='fss'>A.M.</span> Repeated. One step higher. +Quite baffled. Tulloch.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh yes; that’s all right,” said Carrados. “No +reply, Parkinson. Have you got down ‘the Roman +supremacy’?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘… the type of workmanship that still enshrined +<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>the memory of Spartan influence down to the era of +Roman supremacy,’” read the secretary.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That will do. How are the trains for Netherhempsfield?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Greatorex put down the notebook and took up an +“ABC.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Waterloo departure 11——” He cocked an eye +towards the desk clock. “Oh, that’s no good. 12.17, +2.11, 5.9, 7.25.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The 5.9 should do,” interposed Carrados. “Arrival?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“6.48.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Now what has the gazeteer to say about the place?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The yellow railway guide gave place to a weightier +volume, and the secretary read out the following +details:</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Netherhempsfield, parish and village, pop. 732, +South Downshire. 2728 acres land and 27 water; soil +rich loam, occupied as arable, pasture, orchard and +woodland; subsoil various. The church of St Dunstan +(restored 1740) is Saxon and Early English. It possesses +an oak roof with curious grotesque bosses, and +contains brasses and other memorials (earliest 13th +century) of the Aynosforde family. In the ‘Swinefield,’ +1½ miles south-west of the village, are 15 large stones, +known locally as the Judge and Jury, which constitute +the remains of a Druidical circle and temple. Dunstan’s +Tower, a moated residence built in the baronial +style, and probably dating from the 14th century, is the +seat of the Aynosfordes.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I can give three days easily,” mused Carrados. +“Yes, I’ll go down by the 5.9.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do I accompany you, sir?” inquired Greatorex.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not this time, I think. Have three days off yourself. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>Just pick up the correspondence and take things +easy. Send on anything to me, care of Dr Tulloch. If +I don’t write, expect me back on Friday.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very well, Mr Carrados. What books shall I put +out for Parkinson to pack?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Say … Gessner’s <cite>Thesaurus</cite> and—yes, you may +as well add Hilarion’s <cite>Celtic Mythology</cite>.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Six hours later Carrados was on his way to Netherhempsfield. +In his pocket was the following letter, +which may be taken as offering the only explanation +why he should suddenly decide to visit a place of which +he had never even heard until that morning:—</p> + +<p class='c013'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Mr Carrados</span> (‘old Wynn,’ it used to be),—Do +you remember a fellow at St Michael’s who used to +own insects and the name of Tulloch—‘Earwigs,’ they +called him? Well, you will find it at the end of this +epistle, if you have the patience to get there. I ran +across Jarvis about six months ago on Euston platform—you’ll +recall him by his red hair and great feet—and +we had a rapid and comprehensive pow-wow. He told +me who you were, having heard of you from Lessing, +who seems to be editing a high-class review. He +always was a trifle eccentric, Lessing.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“As for yours t., well, at the moment I’m local demon +in a G-f-s little place that you’d hardly find on anything +less than a 4-inch ordnance. But I won’t altogether +say it mightn’t be worse, for there’s trout in the stream, +and after half-a-decade of Cinder Moor, in the Black +Country, a great and holy peace broods on the smiling +land.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“But you will guess that I wouldn’t be taking up the +time of a busy man of importance unless I had something +<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>to say, and you’d be right. It may interest you, +or it may not, but here it is.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“Living about two miles out of the village, at a sort +of mediæval stronghold known as Dunstan’s Tower, +there is an ancient county family called Aynosforde. +And, for the matter of that, they are about all there is +here, for the whole place seems to belong to them, and +their authority runs from the power to charge you twopence +if you sell a pig between Friday night and Monday +morning to the right to demand an exchange of +scabbards with the reigning sovereign whenever he +comes within seven bowshot flights of the highest +battlement of Dunstan’s Tower. (I don’t gather that +any reigning sovereign ever has come, but that isn’t the +Aynosfordes’ fault.) But, levity apart, these Aynosfordes, +without being particularly rich, or having any +title, are accorded an extraordinary position. I am +told that scarcely a living duchess could hold out +against the moral influence old dame Aynosforde could +bring to bear on social matters, and yet she scarcely +ever goes beyond Netherhempsfield now.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“My connection with these high-and-mighties ought +to be purely professional, and so, in a manner, it is, but +on the top of it I find myself drawn into a full-blooded, +old haunted house mystery that takes me clean out of +my depth.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“Darrish, the man whose place I’m taking for three +months, had a sort of arrangement that once a week he +should go up to the Tower and amuse old Mrs Aynosforde +for a couple of hours under the pretence of feeling +her pulse. I found that I was let in for continuing this. +Fortunately the old dame was quite amiable at close +quarters. I have no social qualifications whatever, and +we got on very well together on those terms. I have +<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>heard that she considers me ‘thoroughly responsible.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“For five or six weeks everything went on swimmingly. +I had just enough to do to keep me from +doing nothing. People have a delightful habit of not +being taken ill in the night, and there is a comfortable +cob to trot round on.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“Tuesday is my Dunstan’s Tower day. Last Tuesday +I went as usual. I recall now that the servants +about the place seemed rather wild and the old lady +did not keep me quite as long as usual, but these things +were not sufficiently noticeable to make any impression +on me at the time. On Friday a groom rode over with +a note from Swarbrick, the butler. Would I go up that +afternoon and see Mrs Aynosforde? He had taken the +liberty of asking me on his own responsibility as he +thought that she ought to be seen. Deuced queer it +struck me, but of course I went.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“Swarbrick was evidently on the look-out. He is a +regular family retainer, taciturn and morose rather +than bland. I saw at once that the old fellow had something +on his mind, and I told him that I should like a +word with him. We went into the morning-room.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘Now, Swarbrick,’ I said, ‘you sent for me. What +is the matter with your mistress since Tuesday?’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“He looked at me dourly, as though he was still in +two minds about opening his mouth. Then he said +slowly:</p> + +<p class='c014'><a id='tn-sincetuesday'></a>“‘It isn’t since Tuesday, sir. It was on that +morning.’</p> + +<p class='c014'><a id='tn-whatwas'></a>“‘What was?’ I asked.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘The beginning of it, Dr Tulloch. Mrs Aynosforde +slipped at the foot of the stairs on coming down to +breakfast.’</p> + +<p class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>“‘She did?’ I said. ‘Well, it couldn’t have been very +serious at the time. She never mentioned it to me.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘No, sir,’ the old monument assented, with an +appalling surface of sublime pride, ‘she would not.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘Why wouldn’t she if she was hurt?’ I demanded. +‘People do mention these things to their medical men, +in strict confidence.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘The circumstances are unusual, sir,’ he replied, +without a ruffle of his imperturbable respect. ‘Mrs +Aynosforde was not hurt, sir. She did not actually fall, +but she slipped—on a pool of blood.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘That’s unpleasant,’ I admitted, looking at him +sharply, for an owl could have seen that there was +something behind all this. ‘How did it come there? +Whose was it?’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘Sir Philip Bellmont’s, sir.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“I did not know the name. ‘Is he a visitor here?’ +I asked.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘Not at present, sir. He stayed with us in 1662. +He died here, sir, under rather unpleasant circumstances.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“There you have it, Wynn. That is the keystone of +the whole business. But if I keep to my conversation +with the still reluctant Swarbrick I shall run out of +foolscap and into midnight. Briefly, then, the ‘unpleasant +circumstances’ were as follows:—Just about +two and a half centuries ago, when Charles II. was +back, and things in England were rather gay, a certain +Sir Philip Bellmont was a guest at Dunstan’s Tower. +There were dice, and there was a lady—probably a +dozen, but the particular one was the Aynosforde’s +young wife. One night there was a flare-up. Bellmont +was run through with a rapier, and an ugly doubt +turned on whether the point came out under the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>shoulder blade, or went in there. Dripping on to every +stair, the unfortunate man was carried up to his room. +He died within a few hours, convinced, from the circumstances, +of treachery all round, and with his last +breath he left an anathema on every male and female +Aynosforde as the day of their death approached. +There are fourteen steps in the flight that Bellmont was +carried up, and when the pool appears in the hall some +Aynosforde has just two weeks to live. Each succeeding +morning the stain may be found one stair higher. +When it reaches the top there is a death in the family.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“This was the gist of the story. As far as you and I +are concerned, it is, of course, merely a matter as to +what form our scepticism takes, but my attitude is +complicated by the fact that my nominal patient has +become a real one. She is seventy-two and built to be +a nonagenarian, but she has gone to bed with the intention +of dying on Tuesday week. And I firmly believe +she will.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘How does she know that she is the one?’ I asked. +There aren’t many Aynosfordes, but I knew that there +were some others.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“To this Swarbrick maintained a discreet ambiguity. +It was not for him to say, he replied, but I can see that +he, like most of the natives round here, is obsessed with +Aynosfordism.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘And for that matter,’ I objected, ‘your mistress is +scarcely entitled to the distinction. She will not really +be an Aynosforde at all—only one by marriage.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘No, sir,’ he replied readily, ‘Mrs Aynosforde was +also a Miss Aynosforde, sir—one of the Dorset Aynosfordes. +Mr Aynosforde married his cousin.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘Oh,’ I said, ‘do the Aynosfordes often marry +cousins?’</p> + +<p class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>“‘Very frequently, sir. You see, it is difficult otherwise +for them to find eligible partners.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“Well, I saw the lady, explaining that I had not been +altogether satisfied with her condition on Tuesday. +It passed, but I was not able to allude to the real business. +Swarbrick, in his respectful, cast-iron way, had +impressed on me that Sir Philip Bellmont must not be +mentioned, assuring me that even Darrish would not +venture to do so. Mrs Aynosforde was certainly a little +feverish, but there was nothing the matter with her. I +left, arranging to call again on the Sunday.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“When I came to think it over, the first form it took +was: Now who is playing a silly practical joke, or +working a deliberate piece of mischief? But I could +not get any further on those lines, because I do not +know enough of the circumstances. Darrish might +know, but Darrish is cruising off Spitzbergen, suffering +from a nervous breakdown. The people here are amiable +enough superficially, but they plainly regard me as +an outsider.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“It was then that I thought of you. From what +Jarvis had told me I gathered that you were keen on +a mystery for its own sake. Furthermore, though I +understand that you are now something of a dook, you +might not be averse to a quiet week in the country, +jogging along the lanes, smoking a peaceful pipe of an +evening and yarning over old times. But I was not +going to lure you down and then have the thing turn +out to be a ridiculous and transparent hoax, no matter +how serious its consequences. I owed it to you to make +some reasonable investigation myself. This I have now +done.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“On Sunday when I went there Swarbrick, with a +very long face, reported that on each morning he had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>found the stain one step higher. The patient, needless +to say, was appreciably worse. When I came down I +had made up my mind.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘Look here, Swarbrick,’ I said, ‘there is only one +thing for it. I must sit up here to-night and see what +happens.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“He was very dubious at first, but I believe the fellow +is genuine in his attachment to the house. His final +scruple melted when he learned that I should not require +him to sit up with me. I enjoined absolute +secrecy, and this, in a large rambling place like the +Tower, is not difficult to maintain. All the maid-servants +had fled. The only people sleeping within the +walls now, beyond those I have mentioned, are two of +Mrs Aynosforde’s grandchildren (a girl and a young +man whom I merely know by sight), the housekeeper +and a footman. All these had retired long before the +butler admitted me by an obscure little door, about +half-an-hour after midnight.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“The staircase with which we are concerned goes up +from the dining hall. A much finer, more modern way +ascends from the entrance hall. This earlier one, however, +only gives access now to three rooms, a lovely oak-panelled +chamber occupied by my patient and two +small rooms, turned nowadays into a boudoir and a +bathroom. When Swarbrick had left me in an easy-chair, +wrapped in a couple of rugs, in a corner of the +dark dining hall, I waited for half-an-hour and then +proceeded to make my own preparations. Moving +very quietly, I crept up the stairs, and at the top drove +one drawing-pin into the lintel about a foot up, another +at the same height into the baluster opposite, and +across the stairs fastened a black thread, with a small +bell hanging over the edge. A touch and the bell would +<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>ring, whether the thread broke or not. At the foot of +the stairs I made another attachment and hung another +bell.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘I think, my unknown friend,’ I said, as I went +back to the chair, ‘you are cut off above and below +now.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“I won’t say that I didn’t close my eyes for a minute +through the whole night, but if I did sleep it was only +as a watchdog sleeps. A whisper or a creak of a board +would have found me alert. As it was, however, nothing +happened. At six o’clock Swarbrick appeared, +respectfully solicitous about my vigil.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘We’ve done it this time, Swarbrick,’ I said in +modest elation. ‘Not the ghost of a ghost has appeared. +The spell is broken.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“He had crossed the hall and was looking rather +strangely at the stairs. With a very queer foreboding +I joined him and followed his glance. By heavens, +Wynn, there, on the sixth step up, was a bright red +patch! I am not squeamish; I cleared four steps at a +stride, and stooping down I dipped my finger into the +stuff and felt its slippery viscidity against my thumb. +There could be no doubt about it; it was the genuine +thing. In my baffled amazement I looked in every +direction for a possible clue to human agency. Above, +more than twenty feet above, were the massive rafters +and boarding of the roof itself. By my side reared a +solid stone wall, and beneath was simply the room we +stood in, for the space below the stairway was not enclosed.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“I pointed to my arrangement of bells.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘Nobody has gone up or down, I’ll swear,’ I said a +little warmly. Between ourselves, I felt a bit of an ass +for my pains, before the monumental Swarbrick.</p> + +<p class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>“‘No, sir,’ he agreed. ‘I had a similar experience +myself on Saturday night.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘The deuce you did,’ I exclaimed. ‘Did you sit +up then?’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“‘Not exactly, sir,’ he replied, ‘but after making all +secure at night I hung a pair of irreplaceable Dresden +china cups in a similar way. They were both still intact +in the morning, sir.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>“Well, there you are. I have nothing more to say +on the subject. ‘Hope not,’ you’ll be muttering. If +the thing doesn’t tempt you, say no more about it. If +it does, just wire a time and I’ll be at the station. +Welcome isn’t the word.—Yours as of yore,</p> + +<div class='c016'>“<span class='sc'>Jim Tulloch.</span></div> + +<p class='c014'>“<i>P.S.</i>—Can put your man up all right.</p> + +<div class='c016'>“J. T.”</div> + +<p class='c015'>Carrados had “wired a time,” and he was seized on +the platform by the awaiting and exuberant Tulloch +and guided with elaborate carefulness to the doctor’s +cart, which was, as its temporary owner explained, +“knocking about somewhere in the lane outside.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Splendid little horse,” he declared. “Give him a +hedge to nibble at and you can leave him to look after +himself for hours. Motors? He laughs at them, +Wynn, merely laughs.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson and the luggage found room behind, and +the splendid little horse shook his shaggy head and +launched out for home. For a mile the conversation +was a string of, “Do you ever come across Brown +now?” “You know Sugden was killed flying?” +“Heard of Marling only last week; he’s gone on the +stage.” “By the way, that appalling ass Sanders married +a girl with a pot of money and runs horses now,” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>and doubtless it would have continued in a similar +strain to the end of the journey if an encounter with a +farmer’s country trap had not interrupted its tenor.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The lane was very narrow at that point and the driver +of the trap drew into the hedge and stopped to allow +the doctor to pass. There was a mutual greeting, and +Tulloch pulled up also when their hubs were clear.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No more sheep killed, I hope?” he called back.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, sir; I can’t complain that we have,” said the +driver cheerfully. “But I do hear that Mr Stone, over +at Daneswood, lost one last night.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In the same way, do you mean?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“So I heard. It’s a queer business, doctor.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s a blackguardly business. It’s a marvel what +the fellow thinks he’s doing.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He’ll get nabbed, never fear, sir. He’ll do it once +too often.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Hope so,” said the doctor. “Good-day.” He shook +the reins and turned to his visitor. “One of our local +‘Farmer Jarges.’ It’s part of the business to pass the +time o’ day with them all and ask after the cow or the +pig, if no other member of the family happens to be on +the sick list.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What is the blackguardly business?” asked +Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, that is a bit out of the common, I’ll admit. +About a week ago this man, Bailey, found one of his +sheep dead in the field. It had been deliberately killed—head +cut half off. It hadn’t been done for meat, because +none was taken. But, curiously enough, something +else had been taken. The animal had been +opened and the heart and intestines were gone. What +do you think of that, Wynn?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Revenge, possibly.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>“Bailey declares that he hasn’t got the shadow of an +enemy in the world. His three or four labourers are +quite content. Of course a thing like that makes a +tremendous sensation in a place like this. You may +see as many as five men talking together almost any +day now. And here, on the top if it, comes another +case at Stone’s. It looks like one of those outbreaks +that crop up from time to time for no obvious reason +and then die out again.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No reason, Jim?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, if it isn’t revenge, and if it isn’t food, what is +there to be got by it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What is there to be got when an animal is killed?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Tulloch stared without enlightenment.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What is there that I am here to trace?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Godfrey Dan’l, Wynn! You don’t mean to say +that there is any connection between——?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t say it,” declared Carrados promptly. “But +there is very strong reason why we should consider it. +It solves a very obvious question that faces us. A +pricked thumb does not produce a pool. Did you +microscope it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, I did. I can only say that it’s mammalian. +My limited experience doesn’t carry me beyond that. +Then what about the entrails, Wynn? Why take +those?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That raises a variety of interesting speculations +certainly.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It may to you. The only thing that occurs to me +is that it might be a blind.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A very unfortunate one, if so. A blind is intended +to allay curiosity—to suggest an obvious but fictitious +motive. This, on the contrary, arouses curiosity. The +abstraction of a haunch of mutton would be an excellent +<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>blind. Whereas now, as you say, what about the +entrails?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Tulloch shook his head.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’ve had my shot,” he answered. “Can you suggest +anything?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Frankly, I can’t,” admitted Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“On the face of it, I don’t suppose anyone short of +an oracle could. Pity our local shrine has got rusty in +the joints.” He levelled his whip and pointed to a +distant silhouette that showed against the last few red +streaks in the western sky a mile away. “You see that +solitary old outpost of paganism——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The splendid little horse leapt forward in indignant +surprise as the extended whip fell sharply across his +shoulders. Tulloch’s ingenuous face seemed to have +caught the rubicundity of the distant sunset.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m beastly sorry, Wynn, old man,” he muttered. +“I ought to have remembered.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My blindness?” contributed Carrados. “My dear +chap, everyone makes a point of forgetting that. It’s +quite a recognised form of compliment among friends. +If it were baldness I probably should be touchy on the +subject; as it’s only blindness I’m not.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m very glad you take it so well,” said Tulloch. +“I was referring to a stone circle that we have here. +Perhaps you have heard of it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The Druids’ altar!” exclaimed Carrados with an +inspiration. “Jim, to my everlasting shame, I had forgotten +it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, well, it isn’t much to look at,” confessed the +practical doctor. “Now in the church there are a few +decent monuments—all Aynosfordes, of course.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Aynosfordes—naturally. Do you know how far +that remarkable race goes back?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>“A bit beyond Adam I should fancy,” laughed +Tulloch. “Well, Darrish told me that they really can +trace to somewhere before the Conquest. Some antiquarian +Johnny has claimed that the foundations of +Dunstan’s Tower cover a Celtic stronghold. Are you +interested in that sort of thing?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Intensely,” replied Carrados; “but we must not +neglect other things. This gentleman who owned the +unfortunate sheep, the second victim, now? How far +is Daneswood away?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“About a mile—mile and a half at the most.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados turned towards the back seat.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you think that in seven minutes’ time you would +be able to distinguish the details of a red mark on the +grass, Parkinson?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson took the effect of three objects, the sky +above, the herbage by the roadside, and the back of his +hand, and then spoke regretfully.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m afraid not, sir; not with any certainty,” he +replied.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then we need not trouble Mr Stone to-night,” said +Carrados philosophically.</p> + +<p class='c011'>After dinner there was the peaceful pipe that Tulloch +had forecast, and mutual reminiscences until the long +clock in the corner, striking the smallest hour of the +morning, prompted Tulloch to suggest retirement.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I hope you have everything,” he remarked tentatively, +when he had escorted the guest to his bedroom. +“Mrs Jones does for me very well, but you are an unknown +quantity to her as yet.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I shall be quite all right, you may be sure,” replied +Carrados, with his engagingly grateful smile. “Parkinson +will already have seen to everything. We have +<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>a complete system, and I know exactly where to find +anything I require.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Tulloch gave a final glance around.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Perhaps you would prefer the window closed?” he +suggested.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Indeed, I should not. It is south-west, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And a south-westerly breeze to bring the news. I +shall sit here for a little time.” He put his hand on the +top rail of a chair with unhesitating precision and drew +it to the open casement. “There are a thousand sounds +that you in your arrogance of sight ignore, a thousand +individual scents of hedge and orchard that come to me +up here. I suppose it is quite dark to you now, Jim? +What a lot you seeing people must miss!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Tulloch guffawed, with his hand on the door knob.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, don’t let your passion for nocturnal nature +study lead you to miss breakfast at eight. My eyes +won’t, I promise you. Ta-ta.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He jigged off to his own room and in ten minutes was +soundly asleep. But the oak clock in the room beneath +marked the quarters one by one until the next hour +struck, and then round the face again until the little +finger stood at three, and still the blind man sat by the +open window that looked out over the south-west, interpreting +the multitudinous signs of the quiet life that +still went on under the dark cover of the warm summer +night.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The word lies with you, Wynn,” remarked Tulloch +at breakfast the next morning—he was twelve minutes +late, by the way, and found his guest interested in the +titles of Dr Darrish’s excellent working library. “I am +supposed to be on view here from nine to ten, and after +that I am due at Abbot’s Farm somewhere about noon. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>With those reservations, I am at your disposal for the +day.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you happen to go anywhere near the ‘Swinefield’ +on your way to Abbot’s Farm?” asked Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The ‘Swinefield’? Oh, the Druids’ circle. Yes, one +way—and it’s as good as any other—passes the wheel-track +that leads up to it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then I should certainly like to inspect the site.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There’s really nothing to see, you know,” apologised +the doctor. “Only a few big rocks on end. They +aren’t even chiselled smooth.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am curious,” volunteered Carrados, “to discover +why fifteen stones should be called ‘The Judge and +Jury.’”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, I can explain that for you,” declared Tulloch. +“Two of them are near together with a third block +across the tops. That’s the Judge. The twelve jurymen +are scattered here and there. But we’ll go, by all +means.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There is a public right of way, I suppose?” asked +Carrados, when, in due course, the trap turned from the +highway into a field track.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t know about a right,” said Tulloch, “but I +imagine that anyone goes across who wants to. Of +course it’s not a Stonehenge, and we have very few +visitors, or the Aynosfordes might put some restrictions. +As for the natives, there isn’t a man who wouldn’t +sooner walk ten miles to see a five-legged calf than cross +the road to look at a Phidias. And for that matter,” +he added thoughtfully, “this is the first time I’ve been +really up to the place myself.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s on Aynosforde property, then?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh yes. Most of the parish is, I believe. But this +‘Swinefield’ is part of the park. There is an oak plantation +<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>across there or Dunstan’s Tower would be in +sight.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>They had reached the gate of the enclosure. The +doctor got down to open it, as he had done the former +ones.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This is locked,” he said, coming back to the step, +“but we can climb over easy enough. You can get +down all right?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Thanks,” replied Carrados. He descended and +followed Tulloch, stopping to pat the little horse’s neck.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He’ll be all right,” remarked the doctor with a +backward nod. “I fancy Tommy’s impressionable +years must have been spent between the shafts of a +butcher’s cart. Now, Wynn, how do we proceed?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I should like to have your arm over this rough +ground. Then if you will take me from stone to +stone.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>They paced the broken circle leisurely, Carrados +judging the appearance of the remains by touch and by +the answers to the innumerable questions that he put. +<a id='tn-thejudge'></a>They were approaching the most important monument—the +Judge—when Tulloch gave a shout of delight.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, the beauty!” he cried with enthusiasm. “I +must see you closer. Wynn, do you mind—a +minute——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Lady, Jim?” murmured Carrados. “Certainly not. +I’ll stand like Tommy.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Tulloch shot off with a laugh and Carrados heard him +racing across the grass in the direction of the trilithon. +He was still amused when he returned, after a very +short interval.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, Wynn, not a lady, but it occurred to me that +you might have been farther off. A beautiful airy +creature very brightly clad. A Purple Emperor, in fact. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>I haven’t netted a butterfly for years, but the sight gave +me all the old excitement of the chase.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Tolerably rare, too, aren’t they?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Generally speaking, they are. I remember waiting +in an oak grove with a twenty-foot net for a whole day +once, and not a solitary Emperor crossed my path.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“An oak grove; yes, you said there was an oak +plantation here.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I didn’t know the trick then. You needn’t go to +that trouble. His Majesty has rather peculiar tastes +for so elegant a being. You just hang a piece of decidedly +ripe meat anywhere near.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, Jim?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you notice anything?” demanded the doctor, +with his face up to the wind.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Several things,” replied Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Apropos of high meat? Do you know, Wynn, I +lost that Purple Emperor here, round the blocks. I +thought it must have soared, as I couldn’t quite fathom +its disappearance. This used to be the Druids’ altar, +they say. I don’t know if you follow me, but it would +be a devilish rum go if—eh?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados accepted the suggestion of following Jim’s +idea with impenetrable gravity.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I haven’t the least doubt that you are right,” he +assented. “Can you get up?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s about ten feet high,” reported Tulloch, “and +not an inch of crevice to get a foothold on. If only we +could bring the trap in here——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’ll give you a back,” said Carrados, taking a position +against one of the pillars. “You can manage with +that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Sure you can stand it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Only be as quick as you can.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>“Wait a minute,” said Tulloch with indecision. “I +think someone is coming.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I know there is,” admitted Carrados, “but it is only +a matter of seconds. Make a dash for it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No,” decided Tulloch. “One looks ridiculous. I +believe it is Miss Aynosforde. We’d better wait.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>A young girl with a long thin face, light hair and the +palest blue eyes that it would be possible to imagine +had come from the wood and was approaching them +hurriedly. She might have been eighteen, but she was +“dressed young,” and when she spoke she expressed the +ideas of a child.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You ought not to come in here,” was her greeting. +“It belongs to us.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am sorry if we are trespassing,” apologised +Tulloch, coloring with chagrin and surprise. “I was +under the impression that Mrs Aynosforde allowed +visitors to inspect these ruins. I am Dr Tulloch.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t know anything about that,” said the girl +vaguely. “But Dunstan will be very cross if he sees +you here. He is always cross if he finds that anyone +has been here. He will scold me afterwards. And he +makes faces in the night.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We will go,” said Tulloch quietly. “I am sorry +that we should have unconsciously intruded.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He raised his hat and turned to walk away, but Miss +Aynosforde detained him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You must not let Dunstan know that I spoke to you +about it,” she implored him. “That would be as bad. +Indeed,” she added plaintively, “whatever I do always +makes him cruel to me.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We will not mention it, you may be sure,” replied +the doctor. “Good-morning.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>“Oh, it is no good!” suddenly screamed the girl. +“He has seen us; he is coming!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Tulloch looked round in the direction that Miss +Aynosforde’s frightened gaze indicated. A young man +whom he knew by sight as her brother had left the +cover of the wood and was strolling leisurely towards +them. Without waiting to encounter him the girl +turned and fled, to hide herself behind the farthest +pillar, running with ungainly movements of her long, +wispish arms and uttering a low cry as she went.</p> + +<p class='c011'>As young Aynosforde approached he courteously +raised his hat to the two elder men. He appeared to +be a few years older than his sister, and in him her +colourless ovine features were moulded to a firmer cast.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am afraid that we are trespassing,” said the doctor, +awkward between his promise to the girl and the +necessity of glossing over the situation. “My friend is +interested in antiquities——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My unfortunate sister!” broke in Aynosforde +quietly, with a sad smile. “I can guess what she has +been saying. You are Dr Tulloch, are you not?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Our grandmother has a foolish but amiable weakness +that she can keep poor Edith’s infirmity dark. I +cannot pretend to maintain that appearance before a +doctor … and I am sure that we can rely on the +discretion of your friend?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, certainly,” volunteered Tulloch. “He is——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Merely an amateur,” put in Carrados, suavely, but +with the incisiveness of a scalpel.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You must, of course, have seen that Edith is a little +unusual in her conversation,” continued the young +man. “Fortunately, it is nothing worse than that. +She is not helpless, and she is never violent. I have +<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>some hope, indeed, that she will outgrow her delusions. +I suppose”—he laughed a little as he suggested it—“I +suppose she warned you of my displeasure if I saw you +here?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There was something of the sort,” admitted Tulloch, +judging that the circumstances nullified his promise.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Aynosforde shook his head slowly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am sorry that you have had the experience,” he +remarked. “Let me assure you that you are welcome +to stay as long as you like under the shadows of these +obsolete fossils, and to come as often as you please. It +is a very small courtesy; the place has always been +accessible to visitors.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am relieved to find that I was not mistaken,” said +the doctor.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“When I have read up the subject I should like to +come again,” interposed Carrados. “For the present +we have gone all over the ground.” He took Tulloch’s +arm, and under the insistent pressure the doctor turned +towards the gate. “Good-morning, Mr Aynosforde.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What a thing to come across!” murmured Tulloch +when they were out of earshot. “I remember Darrish +making the remark that the girl was simple for her +years or something of that sort, but I only took it that +she was backward. I wonder if the old ass knew more +than he told me!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>They were walking without concern across the turf +and had almost reached the gate when Carrados gave +a sharp, involuntary cry of pain and wrenched his arm +free. As he did so a stone of dangerous edge and size +fell to the ground between them.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Damnation!” cried Tulloch, his face darkening +with resentment. “Are you hurt, old man?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>“Come on,” curtly replied Carrados between his set +teeth.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not until I’ve given that young cub something to +remember,” cried the outraged doctor truculently. “It +was Aynosforde, Wynn. I wouldn’t have believed it +but I just caught sight of him in time. He laughed and +ran behind a pillar when you were hit.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Come on,” reiterated Carrados, seizing his friend’s +arm and compelling him towards the gate. “It was +only the funny bone, fortunately. Would you stop to +box the village idiot’s ears because he puts out his +tongue at you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Village idiot!” exclaimed Tulloch. “I may only be +a thick-skulled, third-rate general practitioner of no +social pretension whatever, but I’m blistered if I’ll have +my guests insulted by a long-eared pedigree blighter +without putting up a few plain words about it. An +Aynosforde or not, he must take the consequences; +he’s no village idiot.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No,” was Carrados’s grim retort; “he is something +much more dangerous—the castle maniac.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Tulloch would have stopped in sheer amazement, but +the recovered arm dragged him relentlessly on.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Aynosforde! Mad!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The girl is on the borderline of imbecility; the man +has passed beyond the limit of a more serious phase. +The ground has been preparing for generations; doubtless +in him the seed has quietly germinated for years. +Now his time has come.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I heard that he was a nice, quiet young fellow, +studious and interested in science. He has a workshop +and a laboratory.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, anything to occupy his mind. Well, in future +he will have a padded room and a keeper.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>“But the sheep killed by night and the parts exposed +on the Druids’ altar? What does it mean, +Wynn?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It means madness, nothing more and nothing less. +He is the receptacle for the last dregs of a rotten and +decrepit stock that has dwindled down to mental +atrophy. I don’t believe that there is any method in +his midnight orgies. The Aynosfordes are certainly a +venerable line, and it is faintly possible that its remote +ancestors were Druid priests who sacrificed and practised +haruspicy on the very spot that we have left. I +have no doubt that on that questionable foundation +you would find advocates of a more romantic theory.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Moral atavism?” suggested the doctor shrewdly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes. Reincarnation. I prefer the simpler alternative. +Aynosforde has been so fed up with pride of +family and traditions of his ancient race that his mania +takes this natural trend. You know what became of +his father and mother?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, I have never heard them mentioned.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The father is in a private madhouse. The mother—another +cousin, by the way—died at twenty-five.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And the blood stains on the stairs? Is that his +work?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Short of actual proof, I should say yes. It is the +realisation of another family legend, you see. Aynosforde +may have an insane grudge against his grandmother, +or it may be simply apeish malignity, put into +his mind by the sight of blood.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What do you propose doing, then? We can’t leave +the man at large.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We have nothing yet to commit him on. You +would not sign for a reception order on the strength of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>seeing him throw a stone? We must contrive to catch +him in the act to-night, if possible.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Tulloch woke up the little horse with a sympathetic +touch—they were ambling along the highroad again by +this time—and permitted himself to smile.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And how do you propose to do that, Excellency?” +he asked.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“By sprinkling the ninth step with iodide of nitrogen. +A warm night … it will dry in half-an-hour.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, do you know, I never thought of that,” admitted +the doctor. “Certainly that would give us the +alarm if a feather brushed it. But we don’t possess a +chemist’s shop, and I very much doubt if I can put my +hand on any iodine.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I brought a couple of ounces,” said Carrados with +diffidence. “Also a bottle of ·880 ammonia to be on +the safe side.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You really are a bit of a <span lang="la"><i>sine qua non</i></span>, Wynn,” +declared Tulloch expressively.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It was such an obvious thing,” apologised the blind +man. “I suppose Brook Ashfield is too far for one of +us to get over to this afternoon?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In Dorset?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes. Colonel Eustace Aynosforde is the responsible +head of the family now, and he should be on the +spot if possible. Then we ought to get a couple of +men from the county lunatic asylum. We don’t know +what may be before us.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If it can’t be done by train we must wire or perhaps +Colonel Aynosforde is on the telephone. We can go +into that as soon as we get back. We are almost at +Abbot’s Farm now. I will cut it down to fifteen minutes +at the outside. You don’t mind waiting here?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Don’t hurry,” replied Carrados. “Few cases are +<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>matters of minutes. Besides, I told Parkinson to come +on here from Daneswood on the chance of our picking +him up.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, it’s Parkinson, to be sure,” said the doctor. +“Thought I knew the figure crossing the field. Well, +I’ll leave you to him.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He hastened along the rutty approach to the farm-house, +and Tommy, under the pretext of being driven +there by certain pertinacious flies, imperceptibly edged +his way towards the long grass by the roadside. In a +few minutes Parkinson announced his presence at the +step of the vehicle.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I found what you described, sir,” he reported. +“These are the shapes.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Tulloch kept to his time. In less than a quarter of +an hour he was back again and gathering up the reins.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That little job is soon worked off,” he remarked +with mild satisfaction. “Home now, I suppose, +Wynn?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” assented Carrados. “And I think that the +other little job is morally worked off.” He held up a +small piece of note-paper, cut to a neat octagon, with +two long sides and six short ones. “What familiar +object would just about cover that plan, Jim?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If it isn’t implicating myself in any devilment, I +should say that one of our four-ounce bottles would be +about the ticket,” replied Tulloch.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It very likely does implicate you to the extent of +being one of your four-ounce bottles, then,” said +Carrados. “The man who killed Stone’s sheep had +occasion to use what we will infer to be a four-ounce +bottle. It does not tax the imagination to suggest the +use he put it to, nor need we wonder that he found it +desirable to wash it afterwards—this small, flat bottle +<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>that goes conveniently into a waistcoat pocket. On +one side of the field—the side remote from the road, +Jim, but in the direct line for Dunstan’s Tower—there +is a stream. There he first washed his hands, carefully +placing the little bottle on the grass while he did so. +That indiscretion has put us in possession of a ground +plan, so to speak, of the vessel.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Pity it wasn’t of the man instead.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Of the man also. In the field the earth is baked +and unimpressionable, but down by the water-side the +conditions are quite favourable, and Parkinson got +perfect reproductions of the footprints. Soon, perhaps, +we may have an opportunity of making a comparison.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The doctor glanced at the neat lines to which the +papers Carrados held out had been cut.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s a moral,” he admitted. “There’s nothing of +the hobnailed about those boots, Wynn.”</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>Swarbrick had been duly warned and obedience to +his instructions had been ensured by the note that conveyed +them bearing the signature of Colonel Aynosforde. +Between eleven and twelve o’clock a light in a +certain position gave the intelligence that Dunstan +Aynosforde was in his bedroom and the coast quite +clear. A little group of silent men approached the +Tower, and four, crossing one of the two bridges that +spanned the moat, melted spectrally away in a dark +angle of the walls.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Every detail had been arranged. There was no +occasion for whispered colloquies about the passages, +and with the exception of the butler’s sad and respectful +greeting of an Aynosforde, scarcely a word was +spoken. Carrados, the colonel and Parkinson took up +their positions in the great dining hall, where Dr Tulloch +<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>had waited on the occasion of his vigil. A screen +concealed them from the stairs and the chairs on which +they sat did not creak—all the blind man asked for. +The doctor, who had carried a small quantity of some +damp powder wrapped in a saturated sheet of blotting-paper, +occupied himself for five minutes distributing it +minutely over the surface of the ninth stair. When +this was accomplished he disappeared and the silence +of a sleeping house settled upon the ancient Tower.</p> + +<p class='c011'>A party, however, is only as quiet as its most restless +member, and the colonel soon discovered a growing +inability to do nothing at all and to do it in absolute +silence. After an exemplary hour he began to breathe +whispered comments on the situation into his neighbour’s +ear, and it required all Carrados’s tact and good +humour to repress his impatience. Two o’clock passed +and still nothing had happened.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I began to feel uncommonly dubious, you know,” +whispered the colonel, after listening to the third clock +strike the hour. “We stand to get devilishly chaffed +if this gets about. Suppose nothing happens?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then your aunt will probably get up again,” replied +Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“True, true. We shall have broken the continuity. +But, you know, Mr Carrados, there are some things +about this portent, visitation—call it what you will—that +even I don’t fully understand down to this day. +There is no doubt that my grandfather, Oscar Aynosforde, +who died in 1817, did receive a similar omen, or +summons, or whatever it may be. We have it on the +authority——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados clicked an almost inaudible sound of warning +and laid an admonishing hand on the colonel’s arm.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Something going on,” he breathed.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>The soldier came to the alert like a terrier at a word, +but his straining ears could not distinguish a sound +beyond the laboured ticking of the hall clock beyond.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I hear nothing,” he muttered to himself.</p> + +<p class='c011'>He had not long to wait. Half-way up the stairs +something snapped off like the miniature report of a +toy pistol. Before the sound could translate itself to +the human brain another louder discharge had swallowed +it up and out of its echo a crackling fusillade +again marked the dying effects of the scattered explosive.</p> + +<p class='c011'>At the first crack Carrados had swept aside the +screen. “Light, Parkinson!” he cried.</p> + +<p class='c011'>An electric lantern flashed out and centred its circle +of brilliance on the stairs opposite. Its radiance pierced +the nebulous balloon of violet smoke that was rising +to the roof and brought out every detail of the wall +beyond.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good heavens!” exclaimed Colonel Aynosforde, +“there is a stone out. I knew nothing of this.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>As he spoke the solid block of masonry slid back into +its place and the wall became as blankly impenetrable +as before.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Colonel Aynosforde,” said Carrados, after a hurried +word with Parkinson, “you know the house. Will you +take my man and get round to Dunstan’s workroom +at once? A good deal depends upon securing him +immediately.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Am I to leave you here without any protection, +sir?” inquired Parkinson in mild rebellion.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not without any protection, thank you, Parkinson. +I shall be in the dark, remember.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>They had scarcely gone when Dr Tulloch came +stumbling in from the hall and the main stairs beyond, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>calling on Carrados as he bumped his way past a +succession of inopportune pieces of furniture.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Are you there, Wynn?” he demanded, in high-strung +irritation. “What the devil’s happening? +Aynosforde hasn’t left his room, we’ll swear, but hasn’t +the iodide gone off?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The iodide has gone off and Aynosforde has left his +room, though not by the door. Possibly he is back in +it by now.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The deuce!” exclaimed Tulloch blankly. “What +am I to do?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Return——” began Carrados, but before he could +say more there was a confused noise and a shout outside +the window.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We are saved further uncertainty,” said the blind +man. “He has thrown himself down into the moat.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He will be drowned!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not if Swarbrick put the drag-rake where he was +instructed, and if those keepers are even passably +expert,” replied Carrados imperturbably. “After all, +drowning.… But perhaps you had better go and see, +Jim.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>In a few minutes men began to return to the dining +hall as though where the blind man was constituted +their headquarters. Colonel Aynosforde and Parkinson +were the first, and immediately afterwards Swarbrick +entered from the opposite side, bringing a light.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“They’ve got him out,” exclaimed the colonel. +“Upon my word, I don’t know whether it’s for the best +or the worst, Mr Carrados.” He turned to the butler, +who was lighting one after another of the candles of +the great hanging centre-pieces. “Did you know anything +of a secret passage giving access to these stairs, +Swarbrick?” he inquired.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>“Not personally, sir,” replied Swarbrick, “but we +always understood that formerly there was a passage +and hiding chamber somewhere, though the positions +had been lost. We last had occasion to use it when we +were defeated at Naseby, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados had walked to the stairs and was examining +the wall.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This would be the principal stairway, then?” he +asked.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir, until we removed the Elizabethan gallery +when we restored in 1712.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is on the same plan as the ‘Priest’s Chamber’ at +Lapwood. If you investigate in the daylight, Colonel +Aynosforde, you will find that you command a view of +both bridges when the stone is open. Very convenient +sometimes, I dare say.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very, very,” assented the colonel absently. “Every +moment,” he explained, “I am dreading that Aunt +Eleanor will make her appearance. She must have been +disturbed.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, I took that into account,” said Tulloch, catching +the remark as he put his head in at the door and +looked round. “I recommended a sleeping draught +when I was here last—no, this evening. We have got +our man in all right now,” he continued, “and if we +can have a dry suit——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I will accompany you, sir,” said Swarbrick.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Is he—violent?” asked the colonel, dropping his +voice.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Violent? Well,” admitted Tulloch, holding out +two dripping objects that he had been carrying, “we +thought it just as well to cut his boots off.” He threw +them down in a corner and followed the butler out of +the room.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>Carrados took two pieces of shaped white paper from +his pocket and ran his fingers round the outlines. Then +he picked up Dunstan Aynosforde’s boots and submitted +them to a similar scrutiny.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very exact, Parkinson,” he remarked approvingly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Thank you, sir,” replied Parkinson with modest +pride.</p> + +</div> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span></div> +<div class='chapter' id='chapter-4'> + +<div> + <h2 class='c006'>IV<br> <br>The Mystery of the Poisoned Dish of Mushrooms</h2> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_15_0_65 c010'><span class="uppercase">Some</span> time during November of a recent year +newspaper readers who are in the habit of being +attracted by curious items of quite negligible importance +might have followed the account of the +tragedy of a St Abbots schoolboy which appeared in the +Press under the headings, “Fatal Dish of Mushrooms,” +“Are Toadstools Distinguishable?” or some similarly +alluring title.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The facts relating to the death of Charlie Winpole +were simple and straightforward and the jury sworn to +the business of investigating the cause had no hesitation +in bringing in a verdict in accordance with the medical +evidence. The witnesses who had anything really +material to contribute were only two in number, Mrs +Dupreen and Robert Wilberforce Slark, M.D. A +couple of hours would easily have disposed of every +detail of an inquiry that was generally admitted to have +been a pure formality, had not the contention of an +interested person delayed the inevitable conclusion by +forcing the necessity of an adjournment.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Irene Dupreen testified that she was the widow of a +physician and lived at Hazlehurst, Chesset Avenue, St +Abbots, with her brother. The deceased was their +<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>nephew, an only child and an orphan, and was aged +twelve. He was a ward of Chancery and the Court had +appointed her as guardian, with an adequate provision +for the expenses of his bringing up and education. +That allowance would, of course, cease with her +nephew’s death.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Coming to the particulars of the case, Mrs Dupreen +explained that for a few days the boy had been suffering +from a rather severe cold. She had not thought it +necessary to call in a doctor, recognising it as a mild +form of influenza. She had kept him from school and +restricted him to his bedroom. On the previous +Wednesday, the day before his death, he was quite +convalescent, with a good pulse and a normal temperature, +but as the weather was cold she decided still to +keep him in bed as a measure of precaution. He had +a fair appetite, but did not care for the lunch they had, +and so she had asked him, before going out in the afternoon, +if there was anything that he would especially +fancy for his dinner. He had thereupon expressed a +partiality for mushrooms, of which he was always very +fond.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I laughed and pulled his ear,” continued the witness, +much affected at her recollection, “and asked him if +that was his idea of a suitable dish for an invalid. But +I didn’t think that it really mattered in the least then, +so I went to several shops about them. They all said +that mushrooms were over, but finally I found a few at +Lackington’s, the greengrocer in Park Road. I bought +only half-a-pound; no one but Charlie among us cared +for them and I thought that they were already very +dry and rather dear.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The connection between the mushrooms and the unfortunate +boy’s death seemed inevitable. When Mrs +<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>Dupreen went upstairs after dinner she found Charlie +apparently asleep and breathing soundly. She quietly +removed the tray and without disturbing him turned +out the gas and closed the door. In the middle of the +night she was suddenly and startlingly awakened by +something. For a moment she remained confused, +listening. Then a curious sound coming from the +direction of the boy’s bedroom drew her there. On +opening the door she was horrified to see her nephew +lying on the floor in a convulsed attitude. His eyes +were open and widely dilated; one hand clutched some +bed-clothes which he had dragged down with him, and +the other still grasped the empty water-bottle that had +been by his side. She called loudly for help and her +brother and then the servant appeared. She sent the +latter to a medicine cabinet for mustard leaves and told +her brother to get in the nearest available doctor. She +had already lifted Charlie on to the bed again. Before +the doctor arrived, which was in about half-an-hour, +the boy was dead.</p> + +<p class='c011'>In answer to a question the witness stated that she +had not seen her nephew between the time she removed +the tray and when she found him ill. The only other +person who had seen him within a few hours of his +death had been her brother, Philip Loudham, who had +taken up Charlie’s dinner. When he came down again +he had made the remark: “The youngster seems lively +enough now.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Dr Slark was the next witness. His evidence was to +the effect that about three-fifteen on the Thursday +morning he was hurriedly called to Hazlehurst by a +gentleman whom he now knew to be Mr Philip Loudham. +He understood that the case was one of convulsions +and went provided for that contingency, but on +<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>his arrival he found the patient already dead. From +his own examination and from what he was told he had +no hesitation in diagnosing the case as one of agaric +poisoning. He saw no reason to suspect any of the food +except the mushrooms, and all the symptoms pointed +to bhurine, the deadly principle of <i>Amanita Bhuroides</i>, +or the Black Cap, as it was popularly called, from its +fancied resemblance to the head-dress assumed by a +judge in passing death sentence, coupled with its sinister +and well-merited reputation. It was always fatal.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Continuing his evidence, Dr Slark explained that only +after maturity did the Black Cap develop its distinctive +appearance. Up to that stage it had many of the +characteristics of <i>Agaricus campestris</i>, or common +mushroom. It was true that the gills were paler than +one would expect to find, and there were other slight +differences of a technical kind, but all might easily be +overlooked in the superficial glance of the gatherer. +The whole subject of edible and noxious fungi was a +difficult one and at present very imperfectly understood. +He, personally, very much doubted if true +mushrooms were ever responsible for the cases of +poisoning which one occasionally saw attributed to +them. Under scientific examination he was satisfied +that all would resolve themselves into poisoning by one +or other of the many noxious fungi that could easily be +mistaken for the edible varieties. It was possible to +prepare an artificial bed, plant it with proper spawn +and be rewarded by a crop of mushroom-like growth +of undoubted virulence. On the other hand, the injurious +constituents of many poisonous fungi passed off +in the process of cooking. There was no handy way of +discriminating between the good and the bad except +by the absolute identification of species. The salt test +<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>and the silver-spoon test were all nonsense and the +sooner they were forgotten the better. Apparent mushrooms +that were found in woods or growing in the +vicinity of trees or hedges should always be regarded +with the utmost suspicion.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Dr Slark’s evidence concluded the case so far as the +subpœnaed witnesses were concerned, but before addressing +the jury the coroner announced that another +person had expressed a desire to be heard. There was +no reason why they should not accept any evidence that +was tendered, and as the applicant’s name had been +mentioned in the case it was only right that he should +have the opportunity of replying publicly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Lackington thereupon entered the witness-box +and was sworn. He stated that he was a fruiterer and +greengrocer, carrying on a business in Park Road, St +Abbots. He remembered Mrs Dupreen coming to his +shop two days before. The basket of mushrooms from +which she was supplied consisted of a small lot of about +six pounds, brought in by a farmer from a neighbouring +village, with whom he had frequent dealings. All had +been disposed of and in no other case had illness resulted. +It was a serious matter to him as a tradesman +to have his name associated with a case of this kind. +That was why he had come forward. Not only with +regard to mushrooms, but as a general result, people +would become shy of dealing with him if it was stated +that he sold unwholesome goods.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The coroner, intervening at this point, remarked that +he might as well say that he would direct the jury that, +in the event of their finding the deceased to have died +from the effects of the mushrooms or anything contained +among them, there was no evidence other than +that the occurrence was one of pure mischance.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>Mr Lackington expressed his thanks for the assurance, +but said that a bad impression would still remain. +He had been in business in St Abbots for twenty-seven +years and during that time he had handled some tons +of mushrooms without a single complaint before. He +admitted, in answer to the interrogation, that he had +not actually examined every mushroom of the half-pound +sold to Mrs Dupreen, but he weighed them, and +he was confident that if a toadstool had been among +them he would have detected it. Might it not be a +cooking utensil that was the cause?</p> + +<p class='c011'>Dr Slark shook his head and was understood to say +that he could not accept the suggestion.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Continuing, Mr Lackington then asked whether it +was not possible that the deceased, doubtless an inquiring, +adventurous boy and as mischievous as most +of his kind, feeling quite well again and being confined +to the house, had got up in his aunt’s absence and taken +something that would explain this sad affair? They +had heard of a medicine cabinet. What about tablets +of trional or veronal or something of that sort that +might perhaps look like sweets?——It was all very +well for Dr Slark to laugh, but this matter was a serious +one for the witness.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Dr Slark apologised for smiling—he had not laughed—and +gravely remarked that the matter was a serious +one for all concerned in the inquiry. He admitted +that the reference to trional and veronal in this connection +had, for the moment, caused him to forget the +surroundings. He would suggest that in the circumstances +perhaps the coroner would think it desirable to +order a more detailed examination of the body to be +made.</p> + +<p class='c011'>After some further discussion the coroner, while remarking +<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>that in most cases an analysis was quite unnecessary, +decided that in view of what had transpired +it would be more satisfactory to have a complete +autopsy carried out. The inquest was accordingly +adjourned.</p> + +<p class='c011'>A week later most of those who had taken part in the +first inquiry assembled again in the room of the St +Abbots Town Hall which did duty for the Coroner’s +Court. Only one witness was heard and his evidence +was brief and conclusive.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Dr Herbert Ingpenny, consulting pathologist to St +Martin’s Hospital, stated that he had made an examination +of the contents of the stomach and viscera +of the deceased. He found evidence of the presence of +the poison bhurine in sufficient quantity to account for +the boy’s death, and the symptoms, as described by +Dr Slark and Mrs Dupreen in the course of the previous +hearing, were consistent with bhurine poisoning. +Bhurine did not occur naturally except as a constituent +of <i>Amanita Bhuroides</i>. One-fifth of a grain would be +fatal to an adult; in other words, a single fungus in +the dish might poison three people. A child, especially +if experiencing the effects of a weakening illness, would +be even more susceptible. No other harmful substance +was present.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Dr Ingpenny concluded by saying that he endorsed +his colleague’s general remarks on the subject of mushrooms +and other fungi, and the jury, after a plain direction +from the coroner, forthwith brought in a verdict in +accordance with the medical evidence.</p> + +<p class='c011'>It was a foregone conclusion with anyone who knew +the facts or had followed the evidence. Yet five +days later Philip Loudham was arrested suddenly and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>charged with the astounding crime of having murdered +his nephew.</p> + +<p class='c011'>It is at this point that Max Carrados makes his first +appearance in the Winpole tragedy.</p> + +<p class='c011'>A few days after the arrest, being in a particularly +urbane frame of mind himself, and having several hours +with no demands on them that could not be fitly transferred +to his subordinates, Mr Carlyle looked round for +some social entertainment and with a benevolent condescension +very opportunely remembered the existence +of his niece living at Groat’s Heath.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Elsie will be delighted,” he assented to the suggestion. +“She is rather out of the world up there, I +imagine. Now if I get there at four, put in a couple +of hours.…”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mrs Bellmark was certainly pleased, but she appeared +to be still more surprised, and behind that lay an +effervescence of excitement that even to Mr Carlyle’s +complacent self-esteem seemed out of proportion to +the occasion. The reason could not be long withheld.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Did you meet anyone, Uncle Louis?” was almost +her first inquiry.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Did I meet anyone?” repeated Mr Carlyle with his +usual precision. “Um, no, I cannot say that I met +anyone particular. Of course——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’ve had a visitor and he’s coming back again for +tea. Guess who it is? But you never will. Mr +Carrados.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Max Carrados!” exclaimed her uncle in astonishment. +“You don’t say so. Why, bless my soul, Elsie, +I’d almost forgotten that you knew him. It seems +years ago——What on earth is Max doing in Groat’s +Heath?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is the extraordinary thing about it,” replied +<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>Mrs Bellmark. “He said that he had come up here to +look for mushrooms.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mushrooms?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; that was what he said. He asked me if I +knew of any woods about here that he could go into and +I told him of the one down Stonecut Lane.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But don’t you know, my dear child,” exclaimed Mr +Carlyle, “that mushrooms growing in woods or even +near trees are always to be regarded with suspicion? +They may look like mushrooms, but they are probably +poisonous.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I didn’t know,” admitted Mrs Bellmark; “but if +they are, I imagine Mr Carrados will know.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It scarcely sounds like it—going to a wood, you +know. As it happens, I have been looking up the +subject lately. But, in any case, you say that he is +coming back here?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He asked me if he might call on his way home for +a cup of tea, and of course I said, ‘Of course.’”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Of course,” also said Mr Carlyle. “Motoring, I +suppose.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, a big grey car. He had Mr Parkinson with +him.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle was slightly puzzled, as he frequently was +by his friend’s proceedings, but it was not his custom +to dwell on any topic that involved an admission of +inadequacy. The subject of Carrados and his eccentric +quest was therefore dismissed until the sound of a formidable +motor car dominating the atmosphere of the +quiet suburban road was almost immediately followed +by the entrance of the blind amateur. With a knowing +look towards his niece Carlyle had taken up a +position at the farther end of the room, where he remained +in almost breathless silence.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>Carrados acknowledged the hostess’s smiling greeting +and then nodded familiarly in the direction of the +playful guest.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, Louis,” he remarked, “we’ve caught each +other.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mrs Bellmark was perceptibly startled, but rippled +musically at the failure of the conspiracy.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Extraordinary,” admitted Mr Carlyle, coming forward.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not so very,” was the dry reply. “Your friendly +little maid”—to Mrs Bellmark—“mentioned your visitor +as she brought me in.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Is it a fact, Max,” demanded Mr Carlyle, “that +you have been to—er—Stonecut Wood to get mushrooms?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mrs Bellmark told you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes. And did you succeed?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Parkinson found something that he assured me +looked just like mushrooms.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle bestowed a triumphant glance on his +niece.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I should very much like to see these so-called mushrooms. +Do you know, it may be rather a good thing +for you that I met you.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is always a good thing for me to meet you,” replied +Carrados. “You shall see them. They are in +the car. Perhaps I shall be able to take you back to +town?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If you are going very soon. No, no, Elsie”—in +response to Mrs Bellmark’s protesting “Oh!”—“I +don’t want to influence Max, but I really must tear myself +away the moment after tea. I still have to clear +up some work on a rather important case I am just +completing. It is quite appropriate to the occasion, too. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>Do you know all about the Winpole business, Max?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No,” admitted Carrados, without any appreciable +show of interest. “Do you, Louis?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” responded Mr Carlyle with crisp assurance, +“yes, I think that I may claim I do. In fact it was I +who obtained the evidence that induced the authorities +to take up the case against Loudham.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, do tell us all about it,” exclaimed Elsie. <a id='tn-indicator'></a>“I +have only seen something in the <cite>Indicator</cite>.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle shook his head, hemmed and looked wise, +and then gave in.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But not a word of this outside, Elsie,” he stipulated. +“Some of the evidence won’t be given until next week +and it might be serious——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not a syllable,” assented the lady. “How exciting! +Go on.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, you know, of course, that the coroner’s jury—very +rightly, according to the evidence before them—brought +in a verdict of accidental death. In the circumstances +it was a reflection on the business methods +or the care or the knowledge or whatever one may +decide of the man who sold the mushrooms, a greengrocer +called Lackington. I have seen Lackington, and +with a rather remarkable pertinacity in the face of the +evidence he insists that he could not have made this +fatal blunder—that in weighing so small a quantity +as half-a-pound, at any rate, he would at once have +spotted anything that wasn’t quite all right.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But the doctor said, Uncle Louis——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, my dear Elsie, we know what the doctor said, +but, rightly or wrongly, Lackington backs his experience +and practical knowledge against theoretical +generalities. In ordinary circumstances nothing more +would have come of it, but it happens that Lackington +<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>has for a lodger a young man on the staff of the local +paper, and for a neighbour a pharmaceutical chemist. +These three men talked things over more than once—Lackington +restive under the damage that had been +done to his reputation, the journalist stimulating and +keen for a newspaper sensation, the chemist contributing +his quota of practical knowledge. At the end +of a few days a fabric of circumstance had been woven +which might be serious or innocent according to the +further development of the suggestion and the manner +in which it could be met. These were the chief points +of the attack:</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mrs Dupreen’s allowance for the care and maintenance +of Charlie Winpole ceased with his death, as she +had told the jury. What she did not mention was that +the deceased boy would have come into an inheritance +of some fifteen thousand pounds at age and that this +fortune now fell in equal shares to the lot of his two +nearest relatives—Mrs Dupreen and her brother Philip.</p> + +<p class='c011'><a id='tn-mrsdupreen'></a>“Mrs Dupreen was by no means in easy circumstances. +Philip Loudham was equally poor and had +no assured income. He had tried several forms of +business and now, at about thirty-five, was spending +his time chiefly in writing poems and painting watercolours, +none of which brought him any money so +far as one could learn.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Philip Loudham, it was admitted, took up the food +round which the tragedy centred.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Philip Loudham was shown to be in debt and +urgently in need of money. There was supposed to be +a lady in the case—I hope I need say no more, Elsie.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Who is she?” asked Mrs Bellmark with poignant +interest.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We do not know yet. A married woman, it is +<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>rumoured, I regret to say. It scarcely matters—certainly +not to you, Elsie. To continue:</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mrs Dupreen got back from her shopping in the +afternoon before her nephew’s death at about three +o’clock. In less than half-an-hour Loudham left the +house and going to the station took a return ticket to +Euston. He went by the 3.41 and was back in St +Abbots at 5.43. That would give him barely an hour +in town for whatever business he transacted. What +was that business?</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The chemist next door supplied the information +that although bhurine only occurs in nature in this one +form, it can be isolated from the other constituents of +the fungus and dealt with like any other liquid poison. +But it was a very exceptional commodity, having no +commercial uses and probably not half-a-dozen retail +chemists in London had it on their shelves. He himself +had never stocked it and never been asked for it.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“With this suggestive but by no means convincing +evidence,” continued Mr Carlyle, “the young journalist +went to the editor of <cite>The Morning Indicator</cite>, to which +he acted as St Abbots correspondent, and asked him +whether he cared to take up the inquiry as a ‘scoop.’ +The local trio had carried it as far as they were able. +The editor of the <cite>Indicator</cite> decided to look into it and +asked me to go on with the case. This is how my +connection with it arose.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, that’s how newspapers get to know things?” +commented Mrs Bellmark. “I often wondered.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is one way,” assented her uncle.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“An American development,” contributed Carrados. +“It is a little overdone there.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It must be awful,” said the hostess. “And the +police methods! In the plays that come from the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>States——” The entrance of the friendly handmaiden, +bringing tea, was responsible for this platitudinous +wave. The conversation, in deference to Mr +Carlyle’s scruples, marked time until the door closed +on her departure.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My first business,” continued the inquiry agent, +after making himself useful at the table, “was naturally +to discover among the chemists in London whether +a sale of bhurine coincided with Philip Loudham’s hasty +visit. If this line failed, the very foundation of the +edifice of hypothetical guilt gave way; if it succeeded.… +Well, it did succeed. In a street off Caistor +Square, Tottenham Court Road—Trenion Street—we +found a man called Lightcraft, who at once remembered +making such a sale. As bhurine is a specified poison, +the transaction would have to be entered, and Lightcraft’s +book contained this unassailable piece of evidence. +On Wednesday, the sixth of this month, a man +signing his name as ‘J. D. Williams,’ and giving ‘25 +Chalcott Place’ as the address, purchased four drachms +of bhurine. Lightcraft fixed the time as about half-past +four. I went to 25 Chalcott Place and found it to +be a small boarding-house. No one of the name of +Williams was known there.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>If Mr Carlyle’s tone of finality went for anything, +Philip Loudham was as good as pinioned. Mrs Bellmark +supplied the expected note of admiration.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Just fancy!” was the form it took.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Under the Act the purchaser must be known to the +chemist?” suggested Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” agreed Mr Carlyle; “and there our friend +Lightcraft may have let himself in for a little trouble. +But, as he says—and we must admit that there is something +in it—who is to define what ‘known to’ actually +<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>means? A hundred people are known to him as regular +or occasional customers and he has never heard +their names; a score of names and addresses represent +to him regular or occasional customers whom he has +never seen. This ‘J. D. Williams’ came in with an +easy air and appeared at all events to know Lightcraft. +The face seemed not unfamiliar and Lightcraft +was perhaps a little too facile in assuming that he +<em>did</em> know him. Well, well, Max, I can understand +the circumstances. Competition is keen—especially +against the private chemist—and one may give offence +and lose a customer. We must all live.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Except Charlie Winpole,” occurred to Max Carrados, +but he left the retort unspoken. “Did you happen +to come across any inquiry for bhurine at other +shops?” he asked instead.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No,” replied Carlyle, “no, I did not. It would have +been an indication then, of course, but after finding +the actual place the others would have no significance. +Why do you ask?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, nothing. Only don’t you think that he was +rather lucky to get it first shot if our St Abbots authority +was right?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, yes; perhaps he was. But that is of no interest +to us now. The great thing is that a peculiarly +sinister and deliberate murder is brought home to its +perpetrator. When you consider the circumstances, +upon my soul, I don’t know that I have ever unmasked +a more ingenious and cold-blooded ruffian.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then he has confessed, uncle?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Confessed, my dear Elsie,” said Mr Carlyle, with a +tolerant smile, “no, he has not confessed—men of that +type never do. On the contrary, he asserted his outraged +innocence with a considerable show of indignation. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>What else was he to do? Then he was asked to +account for his movements between 4.15 and 5 o’clock +on that afternoon. Egad, the fellow was so cocksure +of the safety of his plans that he hadn’t even taken the +trouble to think that out. First he denied that he had +been away from St Abbots at all. Then he remembered. +He had run down to town in the afternoon for a few +things.—What things?—Well, chiefly stationery.—<a id='tn-boughtit'></a>Where +had he bought it?—At a shop in Oxford Street; +he did not know the name.—Would he be able to point +it out?—He thought so.—Could he identify the attendant?—No, +he could not remember him in the least.—Had +he the bill?—No, he never kept small bills.—How +much was the amount?—About three or four shillings.—And +the return fare to Euston was three-and-eight-pence. +Was it not rather an extravagant journey?—He +could only say that he did so.—Three or four +shillings’ worth of stationery would be a moderate +parcel. Did he have it sent?—No, he took it with him.—Three +or four shillings’ worth of stationery in his +pocket?—No, it was in a parcel.—Too large to go in +his pocket?—Yes.—Two independent witnesses would +testify that he carried no parcel. They were townsmen +of St Abbots who had travelled down in the same carriage +with him. Did he still persist that he had been +engaged in buying stationery? Then he declined to +say anything further—about the best thing he could +do.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And Lightcraft identifies him?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Um, well, not quite so positively as we might wish. +You see, a fortnight has elapsed. The man who bought +the poison wore a moustache—put on, of course—but +Lightcraft will say that there is a resemblance and the +type of the two men the same.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>“I foresee that Mr Lightcraft’s accommodating memory +for faces will come in for rather severe handling +in cross-examination,” said Carrados, as though he +rather enjoyed the prospect.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It will balance Mr Philip Loudham’s unfortunate +forgetfulness for localities, Max,” rejoined Mr Carlyle, +delivering the thrust with his own inimitable aplomb.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados rose with smiling acquiescence to the +shrewdness of the riposte.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I will be quite generous, Mrs Bellmark,” he observed. +“I will take him away now, with the memory +of that lingering in your ears—all my crushing retorts +unspoken.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Five-thirty, egad!” exclaimed Mr Carlyle, displaying +his imposing gold watch. “We must—or, at all +events, I must. You can think of them in the car, +Max.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I do hope you won’t come to blows,” murmured +the lady. Then she added: “When will the real trial +come on, Uncle Louis?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The Sessions? Oh, early in January.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I must remember to look out for it.” Possibly she +had some faint idea of Uncle Louis taking a leading part +in the proceedings. At any rate Mr Carlyle looked +pleased, but when adieux had been taken and the door +was closed Mrs Bellmark was left wondering what the +enigma of Max Carrados’s departing smile had been.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Before they had covered many furlongs Mr Carlyle +suddenly remembered the suspected mushrooms and +demanded to see them. A very moderate collection +was produced for his inspection. He turned them over +sceptically.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The gills are too pale for true mushrooms, Max,” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>he declared sapiently. “Don’t take any risk. Let me +drop them out of the window?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No.” Carrados’s hand quietly arrested the threatened +action. “No; I have a use for them, Louis, but +it is not culinary. You are quite right; they are rank +poison. I only want to study them for … a case +I am interested in.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A case! You don’t mean to say that there is another +mushroom poisoner going?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No; it is the same.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But—but you said——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That I did not know all about it? Quite true. +Nor do I yet. But I know rather more than I did +then.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you mean that Scotland Yard——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, Louis.” Mr Carrados appeared to find something +rather amusing in the situation. “I am for the +other side.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The other side! And you let me babble out the +whole case for the prosecution! Well, really, Max!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But you are out of it now? The Public Prosecutor +has taken it up?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“True, true. But, for all that, I feel devilishly bad.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then I will give you the whole case for the defence +and so we shall be quits. In fact I am relying on you +to help me with it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“With the defence? I—after supplying the evidence +that the Public Prosecutor is acting on?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why not? You don’t want to hang Philip Loudham—especially +if he happens to be innocent—do +you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t want to hang anyone,” protested Mr Carlyle. +“At least—not—as a private individual.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Quite so. Well, suppose you and I between ourselves +<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>find out the actual facts of the case and decide +what is to be done. The more usual course is for the +prosecution to exaggerate all that tells against the accused +and to contradict everything in his favour; for +the defence to advance fictitious evidence of innocence +and to lie roundly on everything that endangers his +client; while on both sides witnesses are piled up to +bemuse the jury into accepting the desired version. +That does not always make for impartiality or for +justice.… Now you and I are two reasonable men, +Louis——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I hope so,” admitted Mr Carlyle. “I hope so.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You can give away the case for the prosecution and +I will expose the weakness of the defence, so, between +us, we may arrive at the truth.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It strikes me as a deuced irregular proceeding. +But I am curious to hear the defence all the same.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You are welcome to all of it that there yet is. An +alibi, of course.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah!” commented Mr Carlyle with expression.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“So recently as yesterday a lady came hurriedly, and +with a certain amount of secrecy, to see me. She came +on the strength of the introduction afforded by a mutual +acquaintanceship with Fromow, the Greek professor. +When we were alone she asked me, besought me, in +fact, to tell her what to do. A few hours before Mrs +Dupreen had rushed across London to her with the tale +of young Loudham’s arrest. Then out came the whole +story. This woman—well, her name is Guestling, +Louis—lives a little way down in Surrey and is married. +Her husband, according to her own account—and I +have certainly heard a hint about it elsewhere—leads +her a studiedly outrageous existence; an admired +silken-mannered gentleman in society, a tolerable pole-cat +<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>at home, one infers. About a year ago Mrs Guestling +made the acquaintance of Loudham, who was +staying in that neighbourhood painting his pretty unsaleable +country lanes and golden sunsets. The inevitable, +or, to accept the lady’s protestations, half the +inevitable, followed. Guestling, who adds an insatiable +jealousy to his other domestic virtues, vetoed the +new acquaintance and thenceforward the two met hurriedly +and furtively in town. Had either of them any +money they might have snatched their destinies from +the hands of Fate and gone off together, but she has +nothing and he has nothing and both, I suppose, are +poor weak mortals when it comes to doing anything +courageous and outright in this censorious world. So +they drifted, drifting but not yet wholly wrecked.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A formidable incentive for a weak and desperate +man to secure a fortune by hook or crook, Max,” said +Carlyle drily.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is the motive that I wish to make you a present +of. But, as you will insist on your side, it is also a +motive for a weak and foolish couple to steal every +brief opportunity of a secret meeting. On Wednesday, +the sixth, the lady was returning home from a visit to +some friends in the Midlands. She saw in the occasion +an opportunity, and on the morning of the sixth a +message appeared in the personal column of <cite>The Daily +Telegraph</cite>—their usual channel of communication—making +an assignation. That much can be established +by the irrefutable evidence of the newspaper. Philip +Loudham kept the appointment and for half-an-hour +this miserably happy pair sat holding each other’s +hands in a dreary deserted waiting-room of Bishop’s +Road Station. That half-hour was from 4.15 to 4.45. +Then Loudham saw Mrs Guestling into Praed Street +<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>Station for Victoria, returned to Euston and just caught +the 5.7 St Abbots.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Can this be corroborated—especially as regards the +precise time they were together?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not a word of it. They chose the waiting-room +at Bishop’s Road for seclusion and apparently they +got it. Not a soul even looked in while they were +there.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then, by Jupiter, Max,” exclaimed Mr Carlyle with +emotion, “you have hanged your client!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados could not restrain a smile at his friend’s +tragic note of triumph.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, let us examine the rope,” he said with his +usual imperturbability.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Here it is.” It was a trivial enough shred of +evidence that the inquiry agent took from his pocket-book +and put into the expectant hand; in point of fact, +the salmon-coloured ticket of a “London General” +motor omnibus.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Royal Oak—the stage nearest Paddington—to +Tottenham Court Road—<a id='tn-trenion'></a>the point nearest Trenion +Street,” he added significantly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” acquiesced Carrados, taking it.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The man who bought the bhurine dropped that +ticket on the floor of the shop. He left the door open +and Lightcraft followed him to close it. That is how +he came to pick the ticket up, and he remembers that it +was not there before. Then he threw it into a waste-paper +basket underneath the counter, and that is where +we found it when I called on him.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Lightcraft’s memory fascinates me, Louis,” was +the blind man’s unruffled comment. “Let us drop in +and have a chat with him?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you really think that there is anything more to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>be got in that quarter?” queried Carlyle dubiously. +“I have turned him inside out, you may be sure.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“True; but we approach Mr Lightcraft from different +angles. You were looking for evidence to prove +young Loudham guilty. I am looking for evidence to +prove him innocent.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very well, Max,” acquiesced his companion. +“Only don’t blame me if it turns out as deuced awkward +for your man as Mrs G. has done. Shall I tell +you what a counsel may be expected to put to the jury +as the explanation of that lady’s evidence?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, thanks,” said Carrados half sleepily from his +corner. “I know. I told her so.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, very well. I needn’t inform you, then,” and +debarred of that satisfaction Mr Carlyle withdrew himself +into his own corner, where he nursed an indulgent +annoyance against the occasional perversity of Max +Carrados until the stopping of the car and the variegated +attractions displayed in a shop window told him +where they were.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Lightcraft made no pretence of being glad to see +his visitors. For some time he declined to open his +mouth at all on the subject that had brought them +there, repeating with parrot-like obstinacy to every +remark on their part, “The matter is <span lang="la"><i>sub judice</i></span>. I +am unable to say anything further,” until Mr Carlyle +longed to box his ears and bring him to his senses. The +ears happened to be rather prominent, for they glowed +with sensitiveness, and the chemist was otherwise a +lank and pallid man, whose transparent ivory skin and +well-defined moustache gave him something of the appearance +of a waxwork.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“At all events,” interposed Carrados, when his friend +turned from the maddening reiteration in despair, “you +<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>don’t mind telling me a few things about bhurine—apart +from this particular connection?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am very busy,” and Mr Lightcraft, with his back +towards the shop, did something superfluous among the +bottles on a shelf.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I imagine that the time of Mr Max Carrados, of +whom even you may possibly have heard, is as valuable +as yours, my good friend,” put in Mr Carlyle with +scandalised dignity.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Carrados?” Lightcraft turned and regarded +the blind man with interest. “I did not know. But +you must recognise the unenviable position in which I +am put by this gentleman’s interference.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is his profession, you know,” said Carrados +mildly, “and, in any case, it would certainly have been +someone. Why not help me to get you out of the +position?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“How is that possible?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If the case against Philip Loudham breaks down +and he is discharged at the next hearing you would not +be called upon further.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That would certainly be a mitigation. But why +should it break down?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Suppose you let me try the taste of bhurine,” suggested +Carrados. “You have some left?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Max, Max!” cried Mr Carlyle’s warning voice, +“aren’t you aware that the stuff is a deadly poison? +One-fifth of a grain——”</p> + +<p class='c011'><a id='tn-mrlightcraft'></a>“Mr Lightcraft will know how to administer it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Apparently Mr Lightcraft did. He filled a graduated +measure with cold water, dipped a slender glass +rod into a bottle that was not kept on the shelves, +and with it stirred the water. Then into another vessel +of water he dropped a single spot of the dilution.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>“One in a hundred and twenty-five thousand, Mr +Carrados,” he said, offering him the mixture.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados just touched the liquid with his lips, considered +the impression and then wiped his mouth.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Now for the smell.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The unstoppered bottle was handed to him and he +took in its exhalation.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Stewed mushrooms!” was his comment. “What +is it used for, Mr Lightcraft?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nothing that I know of.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But your customer must have stated an application.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The pallid chemist flushed a little at the recollection +of that incident.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” he conceded. “There is a good deal about +the whole business that is still a mystery to me. The +man came in shortly after I had lit up and nodded +familiarly as he said: ‘Good-evening, Mr Lightcraft.’ +I naturally assumed that he was someone whom I could +not quite place. ‘I want another half-pound of nitre,’ +he said, and I served him. Had he bought nitre before, +I have since tried to recall and I cannot. It is a +common enough article and I sell it every day. I have +a poor memory for faces I am willing to admit. It has +hampered me in business many a time. We chatted +about nothing in particular as I did up the parcel. +After he had paid and turned to go he looked back +again. ‘By the way, do you happen to have any +bhurine?’ he inquired. Unfortunately I had a few +ounces. ‘Of course you know its nature?’ I cautioned +him. ‘May I ask what you require it for?’ He +nodded and held up the parcel of nitre he had in his +hand. ‘The same thing,’ he replied, ‘taxidermy.’ Then +I supplied him with half-an-ounce.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“As a matter of fact, is it used in taxidermy?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>“It does not seem to be. I have made inquiry and +no one knows of it. Nitre is largely used, and some of +the dangerous poisons—arsenic and mercuric chloride, +for instance—but not this. No, it was a subterfuge.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Now the poison book, if you please.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Lightcraft produced it without demur and the +blind man ran his finger along the indicated line.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; this is quite satisfactory. Is it a fact, Mr +Lightcraft, that not half-a-dozen chemists in London +stock this particular substance? We are told that.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I can quite believe it. I certainly don’t know of +another.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Strangely enough, your customer of the sixth seems +to have come straight here. Do you issue a price-list?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Only a localised one of certain photographic goods. +Bhurine is not included.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You can suggest no reason why Mr Phillip Loudham +should be inspired to presume that he would be able to +procure this unusual drug from you? You have never +corresponded with him nor come across his name or +address before?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No. As far as I can recollect, I know nothing +whatever of him.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then as yet you must assume that it was pure +chance. By the way, Mr Lightcraft, how does it come +that <em>you</em> stock this rare poison, which has no commercial +use and for which there is no demand?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The chemist permitted himself to smile at the blunt +terms of the inquiry.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In the ordinary way I don’t stock it,” he replied. +“This is a small quantity which I had over from my +own use.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Your own use? Oh, then it has a use after all?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, scarcely that. Some time ago it leaked out +<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>in a corner of the photographic world that a great +revolution in colour photography was on the point of +realisation by the use of bhurine in one of the processes. +I, among others, at once took it up. Unfortunately it +was another instance of a discovery that is correct in +theory breaking down in practice. Nothing came of it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Dear, dear me,” said Carrados softly, with sympathetic +understanding in his voice; “what a pity. +You are interested in photography, Mr Lightcraft?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is the hobby of my life, sir. Of course most +chemists dabble in it as a part of their business, but +I devote all my spare time to experimenting. Colour +photography in particular.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Colour photography; yes. It has a great future. +This bhurine process—I suppose it would have been of +considerable financial value if it had worked?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Lightcraft laughed quietly and rubbed his hands +together. For the moment he had forgotten Loudham +and the annoying case and lived in his enthusiasm.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I should rather say it would, Mr Carrados,” he +replied. “It would have been the most epoch-marking +thing since Gaudin produced the first dry plate in ’54. +Consider it—the elaborate processes of Dyndale, Eiloff +and Jupp reduced to the simplicity of a single contact +print giving the entire range of chromatic variation. +Financially it will scarcely bear thinking about by +artificial light.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Was it widely taken up?” asked Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The bhurine idea?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes. You spoke of the secret leaking out. Were +many in the know?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not at all. The group of initiates was only a small +one and I should imagine that, on reflection, every man +kept it to himself. It certainly never became public. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>Then when the theory was definitely exploded, of +course no one took any further interest in it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Were all who were working on the same lines known +to you, Mr Lightcraft?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, yes; more or less I suppose they would be,” +said the chemist thoughtfully. “You see, the man +who stumbled on the formula was a member of the Iris—a +society of those interested in this subject, of which +I was the secretary—and I don’t think it ever got beyond +the committee.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“How long ago was this?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A year—eighteen months. It led to unpleasantness +and broke up the society.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Suppose it happened to come to your knowledge +that one of the original circle was quietly pursuing his +experiments on the same lines with bhurine—what +should you infer from it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Lightcraft considered. Then he regarded Carrados +with a sharp, almost a startled, glance and then +he fell to biting his nails in perplexed uncertainty.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It would depend on who it was,” he replied.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Was there by any chance one who was unknown +to you by sight but whose address you were familiar +with?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Paulden!” exclaimed Mr Lightcraft. “Paulden, by +heaven! I do believe you’re right. He was the ablest +of the lot and he never came to the meetings—a corresponding +member. Southem, the original man who +struck the idea, knew Paulden and told him of it. +Southem was an impractical genius who would never be +able to make anything work. Paulden—yes, Paulden +it was who finally persuaded Southem that there was +nothing in it. He sent a report to the same effect to be +<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>read at one of the meetings. So Paulden is taking up +bhurine again——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Where does he live?” inquired Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ivor House, Wilmington Lane, Enstead. As secretary +I have written there a score of times.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is on the Great Western—Paddington,” commented +the blind man. “Still, can you get out the +addresses of the others in the know, Mr Lightcraft?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Certainly, certainly. I have the book of membership. +But I am convinced now that Paulden was the +man. I believe that I did actually see him once some +years ago, but he has grown a moustache since.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If you had been convinced of that a few days ago +it would have saved us some awkwardness,” volunteered +Mr Carlyle with a little dignified asperity.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“When you came before, Mr Carlyle, you were so +convinced yourself of it being Mr Loudham that you +wouldn’t hear of me thinking of anyone else,” retorted +the chemist. “You will bear me out also that I never +positively identified him as my customer. Now here +is the book. Southem, Potter’s Bar. Voynich, Islington. +Crawford, Streatham Hill. Brown, Southampton +Row. Vickers, Clapham Common. Tidey, Fulham. +All those I knew quite well—associated with them week +after week. Williams I didn’t know so closely. He +is dead. Bigwood has gone to Canada. I don’t think +anyone else was in the bhurine craze—as we called it +afterwards.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But now? What would you call it now?” queried +Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Now? Well, I hope that you will get me out of +having to turn up at court and that sort of thing, Mr +Carrados. If Paulden is going on experimenting with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>bhurine again on the sly I shall want all my spare time +to do the same myself!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>A few hours later the two investigators rang the bell +of a substantial detached house in Enstead, the little +country town twenty miles out in Berkshire, and asked +to see Mr Paulden.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is no good taking Lightcraft to identify the man,” +Carrados had decided. “If Paulden denied it, our +friend’s obliging record in that line would put him out +of court.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I maintain an open mind on the subject,” Carlyle +had replied. “Lightcraft is admittedly a very bending +reed, but there is no reason why he should not have +been right before and wrong to-day.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>They were shown into a ceremonial reception-room +to wait. Mr Carlyle diagnosed snug circumstances and +the tastes of an indoors, comfort-loving man in the surroundings.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The door opened, but it was to admit a middle-aged, +matronly lady with good-humour and domestic capability +proclaimed by every detail of her smiling face +and easy manner.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You wished to see my husband?” she asked with +friendly courtesy.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Paulden? Yes, we should like to,” replied +Carlyle, with his most responsive urbanity. “It is a +matter that need not occupy more than a few minutes.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He is very busy just now. If it has to do with the +election”—a local contest was at its height—“he is +not interested in politics and scarcely ever votes.” +Her manner was not curious, but merely reflected a +business-like desire to save trouble all round.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very sensible too, ve-ry sensible indeed,” almost +warbled Mr Carlyle with instinctive cajolery. “After +<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>all,” he continued, mendaciously appropriating as his +own an aphorism at which he had laughed heartily a +few days before in the theatre, “after all, what does an +election do but change the colour of the necktie of the +man who picks our pockets? No, no, Mrs Paulden, it +is merely a—um—quite personal matter.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The lady looked from one to the other with smiling +amiability.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Some little mystery,” her expression seemed to say. +“All right; I don’t mind, only perhaps I could help +you if I knew.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Paulden is in his dark-room now,” was what she +actually did say. “I am afraid, I am really afraid that +I shan’t be able to persuade him to come out unless I +can take a definite message.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“One understands the difficulty of tempting an enthusiast +from his work,” suggested Carrados, speaking +for the first time. “Would it be permissible to take +us to the door of the dark-room, Mrs Paulden, and let +us speak to your husband through it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We can try that way,” she acquiesced readily, “if +it is really so important.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I think so,” he replied.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The dark-room lay across the hall. Mrs Paulden +conducted them to the door, waited a moment and then +knocked quietly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes?” sang out a voice, rather irritably one might +judge, from inside.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Two gentlemen have called to see you about something, +Lance——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I cannot see anyone when I am in here,” interrupted +the voice with rising sharpness. “You know that, +Clara——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, dear,” she said soothingly; “but listen. They +<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>are at the door here and if you can spare the time just +to come and speak you will know without much trouble +if their business is as important as they think.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Wait a minute,” came the reply after a moment’s +pause, and then they heard someone approach the door +from the other side.</p> + +<p class='c011'>It was a little difficult to know exactly how it happened +in the obscure light of the corner of the hall. +Carrados had stepped nearer to the door to speak. +Possibly he trod on Mr Carlyle’s toe, for there was a +confused movement; certainly he put out his hand +hastily to recover himself. The next moment the door +of the dark-room jerked open, the light was let in and +the warm odours of a mixed and vitiated atmosphere +rolled out. Secure in the well-ordered discipline of his +excellent household, Mr Paulden had neglected the precaution +of locking himself in.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Confound it all,” shouted the incensed experimenter +in a towering rage, “confound it all, you’ve spoiled the +whole thing now!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Dear me,” apologised Carrados penitently, “I am +so sorry. I think it must have been my fault, do you +know. Does it really matter?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Matter!” stormed Mr Paulden, recklessly flinging +open the door fully now to come face to face with his +disturbers—“matter letting a flood of light into a dark-room +in the middle of a delicate experiment!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Surely it was very little,” persisted Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Pshaw,” snarled the angry gentleman; “it was +enough. You know the difference between light and +dark, I suppose?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle suddenly found himself holding his +breath, wondering how on earth Max had conjured that +opportune challenge to the surface.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>“No,” was the mild and deprecating reply—the appeal +<span lang="la"><i>ad misericordiam</i></span> that had never failed him yet—“no, +unfortunately I don’t, for I am blind. That is +why I am so awkward.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Out of the shocked silence Mrs Paulden gave a little +croon of pity. The moment before she had been speechless +with indignation on her husband’s behalf. Paulden +felt as though he had struck a suffering animal. He +stammered an apology and turned away to close the +unfortunate door. Then he began to walk slowly down +the hall.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You wished to see me about something?” he remarked, +with matter-of-fact civility. “Perhaps we +had better go in here.” He indicated the reception-room +where they had waited and followed them in. +The admirable Mrs Paulden gave no indication of wishing +to join the party.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados came to the point at once.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Carlyle,” he said, indicating his friend, “has +recently been acting for the prosecution in a case of +alleged poisoning that the Public Prosecutor has now +taken up. I am interested in the defence. Both sides +are thus before you, Mr Paulden.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“How does this concern me?” asked Paulden with +obvious surprise.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You are experimenting with bhurine. The victim +of this alleged crime undoubtedly lost his life by +bhurine poisoning. Do you mind telling us when and +where you acquired your stock of this scarce substance?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have had——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No—a moment, Mr Paulden, before you reply,” +struck in Carrados with arresting hand. “You must +understand that nothing so grotesque as to connect you +<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>with a crime is contemplated. But a man is under +arrest and the chief point against him is the half-ounce +of bhurine that Lightcraft of Trenion Street sold to +someone at half-past five last Wednesday fortnight. +Before you commit yourself to any statement that it +may possibly be difficult to recede from, you should +realise that this inquiry will be pushed to the very end.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“How do you know that I am using bhurine?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That,” parried Carrados, “is a blind man’s secret.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, well. And you say that someone has been +arrested through this fact?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes. Possibly you have read something of the St +Abbots mushroom poisoning case?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have no interest in the sensational ephemera of +the Press. Very well; it was I who bought the bhurine +from Lightcraft that Wednesday afternoon. I gave a +false name and address, I must admit. I had a sufficient +private reason for so doing.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This knocks what is vulgarly termed ‘the stuffing’ +out of the case for the prosecution,” observed Carlyle, +who had been taking a note. “It may also involve +you in some trouble yourself, Mr Paulden.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t think that you need regard that very seriously +in the circumstances,” said Carrados reassuringly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“They must find some scapegoat, you know,” persisted +Mr Carlyle. “Loudham will raise Cain over it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t think so. Loudham, as the prosecution will +roundly tell him, has only himself to thank for not giving +a satisfactory account of his movements. Loudham +will be lectured, Lightcraft will be fined the minimum, +and Mr Paulden will, I imagine, be told not to do it +again.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The man before them laughed bitterly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There will be no occasion to do it again,” he remarked. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>“Do you know anything of the circumstances?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Lightcraft told us something connected with colour +photography. You distrust Mr Lightcraft, I infer?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Paulden came down to the heart-easing medium +of the street.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’ve had some once, thanks,” was what he said with +terse expression. “Let me tell you. About eighteen +months ago I was on the edge of a great discovery in +colour photography. It was my discovery, whatever +you may have heard. Bhurine was the medium, and +not being then so cautious or suspicious as I have reason +to be now, and finding it difficult—really impossible—to +procure this substance casually, I sent in an order +to Lightcraft to procure me a stock. Unfortunately, +in a moment of enthusiasm I had hinted at the anticipated +results to a man who was then my friend—a +weakling called Southem. Comparing notes with Lightcraft +they put two and two together and in a trice most +of the secret boiled over.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If you have ever been within an ace of a monumental +discovery you will understand the torment of +anxiety and self-reproach that possessed me. For +months the result must have trembled in the balance, +but even as it evaded me, so it evaded the others. And +at last I was able to spread conviction that the bhurine +process was a failure. I breathed again.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You don’t want to hear of the various things that +conspired to baffle me. I proceeded with extreme caution +and therefore slowly. About two weeks ago I +had another foretaste of success and immediately on +it a veritable disaster. By some diabolical mischance I +contrived to upset my stock bottle of bhurine. It +rolled down, smashed to atoms on a developing dish +<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>filled with another chemical, and the precious lot was +irretrievably lost. To arrest the experiments at that +stage for a day was to lose a month. In one place and +one alone could I hope to replenish the stock temporarily +at such short notice and to do it openly after my +last experience filled me with dismay.… Well, you +know what happened, and now, I suppose, it will all +come out.”</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>A week after his arrest Philip Loudham and his sister +were sitting together in the drawing-room at Hazlehurst, +nervous and expectant. Loudham had been +discharged scarcely six hours before, with such vindication +of his character as the frigid intimation that there +was no evidence against him afforded. On his arrival +home he had found a letter from Max Carrados—a +name with which he was now familiar—awaiting him. +There had been other notes and telegrams—messages +of sympathy and congratulation, but the man who had +brought about his liberation did not include these conventionalities. +He merely stated that he purposed calling +upon Mr Loudham at nine o’clock that evening and +that he hoped it would be convenient for him and all +other members of the household to be at home.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He can scarcely be coming to be thanked,” speculated +Loudham, breaking the silence that had fallen on +them as the hour approached. “I should have called +on him myself to-morrow.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mrs Dupreen assented absent-mindedly. Both were +dressed in black, and both at that moment had the +same thought: that they were dreaming this.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I suppose you won’t go on living here, Irene?” +continued the brother, speaking to make the minutes +seem tolerable.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>This at least had the effect of bringing Mrs Dupreen +back into the present with a rush.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Of course not,” she replied almost sharply and +looking at him direct. “Why should I, now?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, all right,” he agreed. “I didn’t suppose you +would.” Then, as the front-door bell was heard to +ring: “Thank heaven!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Won’t you go to meet him in the hall and bring +him in?” suggested Mrs Dupreen. “He is blind, you +know.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados was carrying a small leather case which he +allowed Loudham to relieve him of, together with his +hat and gloves. The introduction to Mrs Dupreen was +made, the blind man put in touch with a chair, and +then Philip Loudham began to rattle off the acknowledgment +of gratitude of which he had been framing +and rejecting openings for the last half-hour.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m afraid it’s no good attempting to thank you for +the extraordinary service that you’ve rendered me, Mr +Carrados,” he began, “and, above all, I appreciate the +fact that, owing to you, it has been possible to keep Mrs +Guestling’s name entirely out of the case. Of course +you know all about that, and my sister knows, so it isn’t +worth while beating about the bush. Well, now that I +shall have something like a decent income of my own, +I shall urge Kitty—Mrs Guestling—to apply for the +divorce that she is richly entitled to, and when that is +all settled we shall marry at once and try to forget the +experiences on both sides that have led up to it. I +hope,” he added tamely, “that you don’t consider us +really much to blame?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados shook his head in mild deprecation.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is an ethical point that has lain outside the +scope of my inquiry,” he replied. “You would hardly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>imagine that I should disturb you at such a time merely +to claim your thanks. Has it occurred to you why I +should have come?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Brother and sister exchanged looks and by their +silence gave reply.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We have still to find who poisoned Charlie +Winpole.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Loudham stared at their guest in frank bewilderment. +Mrs Dupreen almost closed her eyes. When she spoke +it was in a pained whisper.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Is there anything more to be gained by pursuing +that idea, Mr Carrados?” she asked pleadingly. “We +have passed through a week of anguish, coming upon +a week of grief and great distress. Surely all has been +done that can be done?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But you would have justice for your nephew if +there has been foul play?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mrs Dupreen made a weary gesture of resignation. +It was Loudham who took up the question.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you really mean, Mr Carrados, that there is any +doubt about the cause?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Will you give me my case, please? Thank you.” +He opened it and produced a small paper bag. “Now +a newspaper, if you will.” He opened the bag and +poured out the contents. “You remember stating at +the inquest, Mrs Dupreen, that the mushrooms you +bought looked rather dry? They were dry, there is +no doubt, for they had then been gathered four days. +Here are some more under precisely the same conditions. +They looked, in point of fact, like these?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” admitted the lady, beginning to regard Carrados +with a new and curious interest.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Dr Slark further stated that the only fungus containing +the poison bhurine—the <i>Amanita</i> called the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>Black Cap, and also by the country folk the Devil’s +Scent Bottle—did not assume its forbidding appearance +until maturity. He was wrong in one sense there, +for experiment proves that if the Black Cap is gathered +in its young and deceptive stage and kept, it assumes +precisely the same appearance as it withers as if it +was ripening naturally. You observe.” He opened a +second bag and, shaking out the contents, displayed +another little heap by the side of the first. “Gathered +four days ago,” he explained.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why, they are as black as ink,” commented Loudham. +“And the, phew! aroma!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“One would hardly have got through without you +seeing it, Mrs Dupreen?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I certainly hardly think so,” she admitted.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“With due allowance for Lackington’s biased opinion +I also think that his claim might be allowed. Finally, +it is incredible that whoever peeled the mushrooms +should have passed one of these. Who was the cook +on that occasion, Mrs Dupreen?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My maid Hilda. She does all the cooking.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The one who admitted me?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; she is the only servant I have, Mr Carrados.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I should like to have her in, if you don’t mind.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Certainly, if you wish it. She is”—Mrs Dupreen +felt that she must put in a favourable word before this +inexorable man pronounced judgment—“she is a very +good, straightforward girl.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“So much the better.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I will——” Mrs Dupreen rose and began to cross +the room.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ring for her? Thank you,” and whatever her +intention had been the lady rang the bell.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, ma’am?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>A neat, modest-mannered girl, simple and nervous, +with a face as full, as clear and as honest as an English +apple. “A pity,” thought Mrs Dupreen, <a id='tn-cannot'></a>“that this +confident, suspicious man cannot see her now.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Come in, Hilda. This gentleman wants to ask you +something.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, ma’am.” The round, blue eyes went appealingly +to Carrados, fell upon the fungi spread out before +her, and then circled the room with an instinct of +escape.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You remember the night poor Charlie died, Hilda,” +said Carrados in his suavest tones, “you cooked some +mushrooms for his supper, didn’t you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, sir,” came the glib reply.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘No,’ Hilda!” exclaimed Mrs Dupreen in wonderment. +“You mean ‘yes,’ surely, child. Of course +you cooked them. Don’t you remember?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, ma’am,” dutifully replied Hilda.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is all right,” said the blind man reassuringly. +“Nervous witnesses very often answer at random at +first. You have nothing to be afraid of, my good girl, +if you will tell the truth. I suppose you know a mushroom +when you see it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir,” was the rather hesitating reply.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There was nothing like this among them?” He +held up one of the poisonous sort.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, sir; indeed there wasn’t, sir. I should have +known then.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You would have known <em>then</em>? You were not called +at the inquest, Hilda?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If you had been, what would you have told them +about these mushrooms that you cooked?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I—I don’t know, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>“Come, come, Hilda. What could you have told +them—something that we do not know? The truth, +girl, if you want to save yourself?” Then with a +sudden, terrible directness the question cleft her trembling, +guilt-stricken little brain: “Where did you get +the other mushrooms from that you put with those that +your mistress brought?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The eyes that had been mostly riveted to the floor +leapt to Carrados for a single frightened glance, from +Carrados to her mistress, to Philip Loudham, and to the +floor again. In a moment her face changed and she +was in a burst of sobbing.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oho, oho, oho!” she wailed. “I didn’t know; I +didn’t know. I meant no harm; indeed I didn’t, +ma’am.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Hilda! Hilda!” exclaimed Mrs Dupreen in bewilderment. +“What is it you’re saying? What have +you done?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It was his own fault. Oho, oho, oho!” Every +word was punctuated by a gasp. “He always was a +little pig and making himself ill with food. You know +he was, ma’am, although you were so fond of him. I’m +sure I’m not to blame.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But <em>what</em> was it? What <em>have</em> you done?” besought +her mistress.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It was after you went out on that afternoon. He +put on his things and slipped down into the kitchen +without the master knowing. He said what you were +getting for his dinner, ma’am, and that you never got +enough of them. Then he told me not to tell about his +being down, because he’d seen some white things from +his bedroom window growing by the hedge at the +bottom of the garden and he was going to get them. +He brought in four or five and said they were mushrooms +<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>and asked me to cook them with the others and +not say anything because you’d say too many were +not good for him. And I didn’t know any difference. +Indeed I’m telling you the truth, ma’am.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, Hilda, Hilda!” was torn reproachfully from +Mrs Dupreen. “You know what we’ve gone through. +Why didn’t you tell us this before?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I was afraid. I was afraid of what they’d do. +And no one ever guessed until I thought I was safe. +Indeed I meant no harm to anyone, but I was afraid +that they’d punish me instead.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados had risen and was picking up his things.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” he said, half musing to himself, “I knew it +must exist: the one explanation that accounts for +everything and cannot be assailed. We have reached +the bed-rock of truth at last.”</p> + +</div> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span></div> +<div class='chapter' id='chapter-5'> + +<div> + <h2 class='c006'>V<br> <br>The Ghost at Massingham Mansions</h2> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_15_0_65 c010'><span class="uppercase">“Do</span> you believe in ghosts, Max?” inquired Mr +Carlyle.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Only as ghosts,” replied Carrados with +decision.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Quite so,” assented the private detective with the +air of acquiescence with which he was wont to cloak +his moments of obfuscation. Then he added cautiously: +“And how don’t you believe in them, pray?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“As public nuisances—or private ones for that matter,” +replied his friend. “So long as they are content +to behave as ghosts I am with them. When they +begin to meddle with a state of existence that is outside +their province—to interfere in business matters and +depreciate property—to rattle chains, bang doors, ring +bells, predict winners and to edit magazines—and to +attract attention instead of shunning it, I cease to +believe. My sympathies are entirely with the sensible +old fellow who was awakened in the middle of the night +to find a shadowy form standing by the side of his bed +and silently regarding him. For a few minutes the disturbed +man waited patiently, expecting some awful +communication, but the same profound silence was +maintained. ‘Well,’ he remarked at length, ‘if you +<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>have nothing to do, I have,’ and turning over went to +sleep again.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have been asked to take up a ghost,” Carlyle began +to explain.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then I don’t believe in it,” declared Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why not?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Because it is a pushful, notoriety-loving ghost, or it +would not have gone so far. Probably it wants to get +into <cite>The Daily Mail</cite>. The other people, whoever they +are, don’t believe in it either, Louis, or they wouldn’t +have called you in. They would have gone to Sir +Oliver Lodge for an explanation, or to the nearest +priest for a stoup of holy water.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I admit that I shall direct my researches towards +the forces of this world before I begin to investigate +any other,” conceded Louis Carlyle. “And I don’t +doubt,” he added, with his usual bland complacence, +“that I shall hale up some mischievous or aggrieved +individual before the ghost is many days older. Now +that you have brought me so far, do you care to go on +round to the place with me, Max, to hear what they +have to say about it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados agreed with his usual good nature. He +rarely met his friend without hearing the details of +some new case, for Carlyle’s practice had increased +vastly since the night when chance had led him into +the blind man’s study. They discussed the cases according +to their interest, and there the matter generally +ended so far as Max Carrados was concerned, until he +casually heard the result subsequently from Carlyle’s +lips or learned the sequel from the newspaper. But +these pages are primarily a record of the methods +of the one man whose name they bear and therefore +for the occasional case that Carrados completed for his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>friend there must be assumed the unchronicled scores +which the inquiry agent dealt capably with himself. +This reminder is perhaps necessary to dissipate the impression +that Louis Carlyle was a pretentious humbug. +He was, as a matter of fact, in spite of his amiable +foibles and the self-assurance that was, after all, merely +an asset of his trade, a shrewd and capable business +man of his world, and behind his office manner nothing +concerned him more than to pocket fees for which he +felt that he had failed to render value.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Massingham Mansions proved to be a single block of +residential flats overlooking a recreation ground. It +was, as they afterwards found, an adjunct to a larger +estate of similar property situated down another road. +A porter, residing in the basement, looked after the +interests of Massingham Mansions; the business office +was placed among the other flats. On that morning it +presented the appearance of a well-kept, prosperous +enough place, a little dull, a little unfinished, a little +depressing perhaps; in fact faintly reminiscent of the +superfluous mansions that stand among broad, weedy +roads on the outskirts of overgrown seaside resorts; +but it was persistently raining at the time when Mr +Carlyle had his first view of it.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is early to judge,” he remarked, after stopping +the car in order to verify the name on the brass plate, +“but, upon my word, Max, I really think that our ghost +might have discovered more appropriate quarters.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>At the office, to which the porter had directed them, +they found a managing clerk and two coltish youths +in charge. Mr Carlyle’s name produced an appreciable +flutter.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The governor isn’t here just now, but I have this +matter in hand,” said the clerk with an easy air of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>responsibility—an effect unfortunately marred by a +sudden irrepressible giggle from the least overawed of +the colts. “Will you kindly step into our private +room?” He turned at the door of the inner office and +dropped a freezing eye on the offender. “Get those +letters copied before you go out to lunch, Binns,” he +remarked in a sufficiently loud voice. Then he closed +the door quickly, before Binns could find a suitable +retort.</p> + +<p class='c011'>So far it had been plain sailing, but now, brought +face to face with the necessity of explaining, the clerk +began to develop some hesitancy in beginning.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s a funny sort of business,” he remarked, skirting +the difficulty.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Perhaps,” admitted Mr Carlyle; “but that will not +embarrass us. Many of the cases that pass through +my hands are what you would call ‘funny sorts of +business.’”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I suppose so,” responded the young man, “but not +through ours. Well, this is at No. 11 Massingham. A +few nights ago—I suppose it must be more than a week +now—Willett, the estate porter, was taking up some +luggage to No. 75 Northanger for the people there +when he noticed a light in one of the rooms at 11 Massingham. +The backs face, though about twenty or +thirty yards away. It struck him as curious, because +11 Massingham is empty and locked up. Naturally he +thought at first that the porter at Massingham or one +of us from the office had gone up for something. Still +it was so unusual—being late at night—that it was his +business to look into it. On his way round—you know +where Massingham Mansions are?—he had to pass +here. It was dark, for we’d all been gone hours, but +Willett has duplicate keys and he let himself in. Then +<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>he began to think that something must be wrong, for +here, hanging up against their number on the board, +were the only two keys of 11 Massingham that there are +supposed to be. He put the keys in his pocket and +went on to Massingham. Green, the resident porter +there, told him that he hadn’t been into No. 11 for a +week. What was more, no one had passed the outer +door, in or out, for a good half-hour. He knew that, +because the door ‘springs’ with a noise when it is opened, +no matter how carefully. So the two of them went up. +The door of No. 11 was locked and inside everything +was as it should be. There was no light then, and after +looking well round with the lanterns that they carried +they were satisfied that no one was concealed there.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You say lanterns,” interrupted Mr Carlyle. “I +suppose they lit the gas, or whatever it is there, as +well?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is gas, but they could not light it because it was +cut off at the meter. We always cut it off when a flat +becomes vacant.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What sort of a light was it, then, that Willett saw?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It was gas, Mr Carlyle. It is possible to see the +bracket in that room from 75 Northanger. He saw it +burning.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then the meter had been put on again?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is in a locked cupboard in the basement. Only +the office and the porters have keys. They tried the +gas in the room and it was dead out; they looked at the +meter in the basement afterwards and it was dead off.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very good,” observed Mr Carlyle, noting the facts +in his pocket-book. “What next?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The next,” continued the clerk, “was something +that had really happened before. When they got down +again—Green and Willett—Green was rather chipping +<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>Willett about seeing the light, you know, when he +stopped suddenly. He’d remembered something. The +day before the servant at 12 Massingham had asked +him who it was that was using the bathroom at No. +11—she of course knowing that it was empty. He told +her that no one used the bathroom. ‘Well,’ she said, +‘we hear the water running and splashing almost every +night and it’s funny with no one there.’ He had +thought nothing of it at the time, concluding—as he +told her—that it must be the water in the bathroom of +one of the underneath flats that they heard. Of course +he told Willett then and they went up again and examined +the bathroom more closely. Water had certainly +been run there, for the sides of the bath were +still wet. They tried the taps and not a drop came. +When a flat is empty we cut off the water like the gas.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“At the same place—the cupboard in the basement?” +inquired Carlyle.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No; at the cistern in the roof. The trap is at the +top of the stairs and you need a longish ladder to get +there. The next morning Willett reported what he’d +seen and the governor told me to look into it. We +didn’t think much of it so far. That night I happened +to be seeing some friends to the station here—I live not +so far off—and I thought I might as well take a turn +round here on my way home. I knew that if a light +was burning I should be able to see the window lit up +from the yard at the back, although the gas itself would +be out of sight. And, sure enough, there was the light +blazing out of one of the windows of No. 11. I won’t +say that I didn’t feel a bit home-sick then, but I’d +made up my mind to go up.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good man,” murmured Mr Carlyle approvingly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Wait a bit,” recommended the clerk, with a shamefaced +<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>laugh. “So far I had only had to make my mind +up. It was then close on midnight and not a soul about. +I came here for the keys, and I also had the luck to +remember an old revolver that had been lying about in +a drawer of the office for years. It wasn’t loaded, but +it didn’t seem quite so lonely with it. I put it in my +pocket and went on to Massingham, taking another +turn into the yard to see that the light was still on. +Then I went up the stairs as quietly as I could and let +myself into No. 11.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You didn’t take Willett or Green with you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The clerk gave Mr Carlyle a knowing look, as of one +smart man who will be appreciated by another.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Willett’s a very trustworthy chap,” he replied, “and +we have every confidence in him. Green also, although +he has not been with us so long. But I thought it just +as well to do it on my own, you understand, Mr Carlyle. +You didn’t look in at Massingham on your way? Well, +if you had you would have seen that there is a pane of +glass above every door, frosted glass to the hall doors +and plain over each of those inside. It’s to light the +halls and passages, you know. Each flat has a small +square hall and a longish passage leading off it. As +soon as I opened the door I could tell that one of the +rooms down the passage was lit up, though I could +not see the door of it from there. Then I crept very +quietly through the hall into the passage. A regular +stream of light was shining from above the end door on +the left. The room, I knew, was the smallest in the +flat—it’s generally used for a servant’s bedroom or +sometimes for a box-room. It was a bit thick, you’ll +admit—right at the end of a long passage and midnight, +and after what the others had said.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>“Yes, yes,” assented the inquiry agent. “But you +went on?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I went on, tiptoeing without a sound. I got to the +door, took out my pistol, put my hand almost on the +handle and then——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, well,” prompted Mr Carlyle, as the narrator +paused provokingly, with the dramatic instinct of an +expert raconteur, “what then?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then the light went out. While my hand was +within an inch of the handle the light went out, as clean +as if I had been watched all along and the thing timed. +It went out all at once, without any warning and without +the slightest sound from the beastly room beyond. +And then it was as black as hell in the passage and +something seemed to be going to happen.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What did you do?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I did a slope,” acknowledged the clerk frankly. “I +broke all the records down that passage, I bet you. +You’ll laugh, I dare say, and think you would have +stood, but you don’t know what it was like. I’d been +screwing myself up, wondering what I should see in +that lighted room when I opened the door, and then +the light went out like a knife, and for all I knew the +next second the door would open on me in the dark and +Christ only knows what come out.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Probably I should have run also,” conceded Mr +Carlyle tactfully. “And you, Max?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You see, I always feel at home in the dark,” apologised +the blind man. “At all events, you got safely +away, Mr——?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My name’s Elliott,” responded the clerk. “Yes, +you may bet I did. Whether the door opened and anybody +or anything came out or not I can’t say. I didn’t +look. I certainly did get an idea that I heard the bath +<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>water running and swishing as I snatched at the hall +door, but I didn’t stop to consider that either, and if it +was, the noise was lost in the slam of the door and my +clatter as I took about twelve flights of stairs six steps +at a time. Then when I was safely out I did venture to +go round to look up again, and there was that damned +light full on again.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Really?” commented Mr Carlyle. “That was very +audacious of him.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Him? Oh, well, yes, I suppose so. That’s what +the governor insists, but he hasn’t been up there himself +in the dark.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Is that as far as you have got?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s as far as we can get. The bally thing goes on +just as it likes. The very next day we tied up the taps +of the gas-meter and the water cistern and sealed the +string. Bless you, it didn’t make a ha’peth of difference. +Scarcely a night passes without the light showing, +and there’s no doubt that the water runs. We’ve +put copying ink on the door handles and the taps and +got into it ourselves until there isn’t a man about the +place that you couldn’t implicate.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Has anyone watched up there?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Willett and Green together did one night. They +shut themselves up in the room opposite from ten till +twelve and nothing happened. I was watching the +window with a pair of opera-glasses from an empty +flat here—85 Northanger. Then they chucked it, and +before they could have been down the steps the light +was there—I could see the gas as plain as I can see this +ink-stand. I ran down and met them coming to tell me +that nothing had happened. The three of us sprinted +up again and the light was out and the flat as deserted +as a churchyard. What do you make of that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>“It certainly requires looking into,” replied Mr +Carlyle diplomatically.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Looking into! Well, you’re welcome to look all +day and all night too, Mr Carlyle. It isn’t as though it +was an old baronial mansion, you see, with sliding +panels and secret passages. The place has the date +over the front door, 1882—1882 and haunted, by gosh! +It was built for what it is, and there isn’t an inch unaccounted +for between the slates and the foundation.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“These two things—the light and the water running—are +the only indications there have been?” asked Mr +Carlyle.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“So far as we ourselves have seen or heard. I ought +perhaps to tell you of something else, however. When +this business first started I made a few casual inquiries +here and there among the tenants. Among others I +saw Mr Belting, who occupies No. 9 Massingham—the +flat directly beneath No. 11. It didn’t seem any good +making up a cock-and-bull story, so I put it to him +plainly—had he been annoyed by anything unusual +going on at the empty flat above?</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘If you mean your confounded ghost up there, I +have not been particularly annoyed,’ he said at once, +‘but Mrs Belting has, and I should advise you to keep +out of her way, at least until she gets another servant.’ +Then he told me that their girl, who slept in the bedroom +underneath the little one at No. 11, had been going +on about noises in the room above—footsteps and +tramping and a bump on the floor—for some time before +we heard anything of it. Then one day she suddenly +said that she’d had enough of it and bolted. +That was just before Willett first saw the light.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is being talked about, then—among the tenants?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You bet!” assented Mr Elliott pungently. “That’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>what gets the governor. He wouldn’t give a continental +if no one knew, but you can’t tell where it will end. +The people at Northanger don’t half like it either. All +the children are scared out of their little wits and none +of the slaveys will run errands after dark. It’ll give +the estate a bad name for the next three years if it +isn’t stopped.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It shall be stopped,” declared Mr Carlyle impressively. +“Of course we have our methods for dealing +with this sort of thing, but in order to make a clean +sweep it is desirable to put our hands on the offender +<span lang="la"><i>in flagranti delicto</i></span>. Tell your—er—principal not to +have any further concern in the matter. One of my +people will call here for any further details that he may +require during the day. Just leave everything as it is +in the meanwhile. Good-morning, Mr Elliott, good-morning.… +A fairly obvious game, I imagine, Max,” +he commented as they got into the car, “although the +details are original and the motive not disclosed as yet. +I wonder how many of them are in it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Let me know when you find out,” said Carrados, +and Mr Carlyle promised.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Nearly a week passed and the expected revelation +failed to make its appearance. Then, instead, quite a +different note arrived:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“<span class='sc'>My dear Max</span>,—I wonder if you formed any conclusion +of that Massingham Mansions affair from Mr +Elliott’s refined narrative of the circumstances?</p> + +<p class='c014'>“I begin to suspect that Trigget, whom I put on, is +somewhat of an ass, though a very remarkable circumstance +has come to light which might—if it wasn’t a +matter of business—offer an explanation of the whole +business by stamping it as inexplicable.</p> + +<p class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>“You know how I value your suggestions. If you +happen to be in the neighbourhood—not otherwise, +Max, I protest—I should be glad if you would drop in +for a chat. Yours sincerely,</p> + +<div class='c016'>“<span class='sc'>Louis Carlyle</span>.”</div> + +<p class='c015'>Carrados smiled at the ingenuous transparency of +the note. He had thought several times of the case +since the interview with Elliott, chiefly because he was +struck by certain details of the manifestation that +divided it from the ordinary methods of the bogy-raiser, +an aspect that had apparently made no particular +impression on his friend. He was sufficiently interested +not to let the day pass without “happening” to be +in the neighbourhood of Bampton Street.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Max,” exclaimed Mr Carlyle, raising an accusing +forefinger, “you have come on purpose.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If I have,” replied the visitor, “you can reward me +with a cup of that excellent beverage that you were able +to conjure up from somewhere down in the basement +on a former occasion. As a matter of fact, I have.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle transmitted the order and then demanded +his friend’s serious attention.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That ghost at Massingham Mansions——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I still don’t believe in that particular ghost, Louis,” +commented Carrados in mild speculation.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I never did, of course,” replied Carlyle, “but, upon +my word, Max, I shall have to very soon as a precautionary +measure. Trigget has been able to do nothing +and now he has as good as gone on strike.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Downed—now what on earth can an inquiry man +down to go on strike, Louis? Notebooks? So Trigget +has got a chill, like our candid friend Elliott, Eh?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He started all right—said that he didn’t mind +<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>spending a night or a week in a haunted flat, and, to do +him justice, I don’t believe he did at first. Then he +came across a very curious piece of forgotten local history, +a very remarkable—er—coincidence in the circumstances, +Max.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I was wondering,” said Carrados, “when we should +come up against that story, Louis.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then you know of it?” exclaimed the inquiry agent +in surprise.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not at all. Only I guessed it must exist. Here +you have the manifestation associated with two things +which in themselves are neither usual nor awe-inspiring—the +gas and the water. It requires some association +to connect them up, to give them point and force. That +is the story.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” assented his friend, “that is the story, and, +upon my soul, in the circumstances—well, you shall +hear it. It comes partly from the newspapers of many +years ago, but only partly, for the circumstances were +successfully hushed up in a large measure and it required +the stimulated memories of ancient scandalmongers +to fill in the details. Oh yes, it was a scandal, +Max, and would have been a great sensation too, I do +not doubt, only they had no proper pictorial press in +those days, poor beggars. It was very soon after +Massingham Mansions had been erected—they were +called Enderby House in those days, by the way, for +the name was changed on account of this very business. +The household at No. 11 consisted of a comfortable, +middle-aged married couple and one servant, a quiet +and attractive young creature, one is led to understand. +As a matter of fact, I think they were the first tenants +of that flat.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The first occupants give the soul to a new house,” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>remarked the blind man gravely. “That is why empty +houses have their different characters.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t doubt it for a moment,” assented Mr Carlyle +in his incisive way, “but none of our authorities on +this case made any reference to the fact. They did +say, however, that the man held a good and responsible +position—a position for which high personal character +and strict morality were essential. He was also well +known and regarded in quiet but substantial local circles +where serious views prevailed. He was, in short, +a man of notorious ‘respectability.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The first chapter of the tragedy opened with the +painful death of the prepossessing handmaiden—suicide, +poor creature. She didn’t appear one morning +and the flat was full of the reek of gas. With great +promptitude the master threw all the windows open and +called up the porter. They burst open the door of the +little bedroom at the end of the passage, and there was +the thing as clear as daylight for any coroner’s jury to +see. The door was locked on the inside and the extinguished +gas was turned full on. It was only a tiny +room, with no fireplace, and the ventilation of a closed +well-fitting door and window was negligible in the circumstances. +At all events the girl was proved to have +been dead for several hours when they reached her, +and the doctor who conducted the autopsy crowned the +convincing fabric of circumstances when he mentioned +as delicately as possible that the girl had a very pressing +reason for dreading an inevitable misfortune that +would shortly overtake her. The jury returned the +obvious verdict.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There have been a great many undiscovered crimes +in the history of mankind, Max, but it is by no means +every ingenious plot that carries. After the inquest, at +<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>which our gentleman doubtless cut a very proper and +impressive figure, the barbed whisper began to insinuate +and to grow in freedom. It is sheerly impossible to +judge how these things start, but we know that when +once they have been begun they gather material like an +avalanche. It was remembered by someone at the flat +underneath that late on the fatal night a window in the +principal bedroom above had been heard to open, top +and bottom, very quietly. Certain other sounds of +movement in the night did not tally with the tale of +sleep-wrapped innocence. Sceptical busybodies were +anxious to demonstrate practically to those who differed +from them on this question that it was quite easy to +extinguish a gas-jet in one room by blowing down the +gas-pipe in another; and in this connection there was +evidence that the lady of the flat had spoken to her +friends more than once of her sentimental young servant’s +extravagant habit of reading herself to sleep occasionally +with the light full on. Why was nothing heard +at the inquest, they demanded, of the curious fact that +an open novelette lay on the counterpane when the +room was broken into? A hundred trifling circumstances +were adduced—arrangements that the girl had +been making for the future down to the last evening of +her life—interpretable hints that she had dropped to +her acquaintances—her views on suicide and the best +means to that end: a favourite topic, it would seem, +among her class—her possession of certain comparatively +expensive trinkets on a salary of a very few +shillings a week, and so on. Finally, some rather more +definite and important piece of evidence must have been +conveyed to the authorities, for we know now that one +fine day a warrant was issued. Somehow rumour preceded +its execution. The eminently respectable gentleman +<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>with whom it was concerned did not wait to argue +out the merits of the case. He locked himself in the +bathroom, and when the police arrived they found that +instead of an arrest they had to arrange the details for +another inquest.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A very convincing episode,” conceded Carrados in +response to his friend’s expectant air. “And now her +spirit passes the long winter evenings turning the gas +on and off, and the one amusement of his consists in +doing the same with the bath-water—or the other way, +the other way about, Louis. Truly, one half the world +knows not how the other half lives!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“All your cheap humour won’t induce Trigget to +spend another night in that flat, Max,” retorted Mr +Carlyle. “Nor, I am afraid, will it help me through +this business in any other way.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then I’ll give you a hint that may,” said Carrados. +“Try your respectable gentleman’s way of settling +difficulties.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What is that?” demanded his friend.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Blow down the pipes, Louis.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Blow down the pipes?” repeated Carlyle.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“At all events try it. I infer that Mr Trigget has +not experimented in that direction.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But what will it do, Max?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Possibly it will demonstrate where the other end +goes to.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But the other end goes to the meter.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I suggest not—not without some interference with +its progress. I have already met your Mr Trigget, you +know, Louis. An excellent and reliable man within his +limits, but he is at his best posted outside the door of a +hotel waiting to see the co-respondent go in. He hasn’t +enough imagination for this case—not enough to carry +<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>him away from what would be his own obvious method +of doing it to what is someone else’s equally obvious +but quite different method. Unless I am doing him an +injustice, he will have spent most of his time trying to +catch someone getting into the flat to turn the gas and +water on and off, whereas I conjecture that no one does +go into the flat because it is perfectly simple—ingenious +but simple—to produce these phenomena without. +Then when Mr Trigget has satisfied himself that it is +physically impossible for anyone to be going in and out, +and when, on the top of it, he comes across this romantic +tragedy—a tale that might psychologically explain +the ghost, simply because the ghost is moulded on the +tragedy—then, of course, Mr Trigget’s mental process +is swept away from its moorings and his feet begin to +get cold.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This is very curious and suggestive,” said Mr Carlyle. +“I certainly assumed——But shall we have +Trigget up and question him on the point? I think he +ought to be here now—if he isn’t detained at the Bull.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados assented, and in a few minutes Mr Trigget +presented himself at the door of the private office. He +was a melancholy-looking middle-aged little man, with +an ineradicable air of being exactly what he was, and +the searcher for deeper or subtler indications of character +would only be rewarded by a latent pessimism +grounded on the depressing probability that he would +never be anything else.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Come in, Trigget,” called out Mr Carlyle when his +employee diffidently appeared. “Come in. Mr Carrados +would like to hear some of the details of the +Massingham Mansions case.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not the first time I have availed myself of the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>benefit of your inquiries, Mr Trigget,” nodded the blind +man. “Good-afternoon.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good-afternoon, sir,” replied Trigget with gloomy +deference. “It’s very handsome of you to put it in +that way, Mr Carrados, sir. But this isn’t another +Tarporley-Templeton case, if I may say so, sir. That +was as plain as a pikestaff after all, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“When we saw the pikestaff, Mr Trigget; yes, it +was,” admitted Carrados, with a smile. “But this is +insoluble? Ah, well. When I was a boy I used to be +extraordinarily fond of ghost stories, I remember, but +even while reading them I always had an uneasy suspicion +that when it came to the necessary detail of explaining +the mystery I should be defrauded with some +subterfuge as ‘by an ingenious arrangement of hidden +wires the artful Muggles had contrived,’ etc., or ‘an +optical illusion effected by means of concealed mirrors +revealed the <span lang="la"><i>modus operandi</i></span> of the apparition.’ I +thought that I had been swindled. I think so still. I +hope there are no ingenious wires or concealed mirrors +here, Mr Trigget?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Trigget looked mildly sagacious but hopelessly +puzzled. It was his misfortune that in him the necessities +of his business and the proclivities of his nature +were at variance, so that he ordinarily presented the +curious anomaly of looking equally alert and tired.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Wires, sir?” he began, with faint amusement.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not only wires, but anything that might account +for what is going on,” interposed Mr Carlyle. “Mr +Carrados means this, Trigget: you have reported that +it is impossible for anyone to be concealed in the flat or +to have secret access to it——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have tested every inch of space in all the rooms, +Mr Carrados, sir,” protested the hurt Trigget. “I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>have examined every board and, you may say, every +nail in the floor, the skirting-boards, the window frames +and in fact wherever a board or a nail exists. There +are no secret ways in or out. Then I have taken the +most elaborate precautions against the doors and windows +being used for surreptitious ingress and egress. +They have not been used, sir. For the past week I am +the only person who has been in and out of the flat, +Mr Carrados, and yet night after night the gas that is +cut off at the meter is lit and turned out again, and the +water that is cut off at the cistern splashes about in the +bath up to the second I let myself in. Then it’s as +quiet as the grave and everything is exactly as I left it. +It isn’t human, Mr Carrados, sir, and flesh and blood +can’t stand it—not in the middle of the night, that is +to say.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You see nothing further, Mr Trigget?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t indeed, Mr Carrados. I would suggest +doing away with the gas in that room altogether. As +a box-room it wouldn’t need one.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And the bathroom?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That might be turned into a small bedroom and all +the water fittings removed. Then to provide a bathroom——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, yes,” interrupted Mr Carlyle impatiently, +“but we are retained to discover who is causing this +annoyance and to detect the means, not to suggest +structural alterations in the flat, Trigget. The fact is +that after having put in a week on this job you have +failed to bring us an inch nearer its solution. Now Mr +Carrados has suggested”—Mr Carlyle was not usually +detained among the finer shades of humour, but some +appreciation of the grotesqueness of the advice required +him to control his voice as he put the matter in its +<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>baldest form—“Mr Carrados has suggested that instead +of spending the time measuring the chimneys and +listening to the wall-paper, if you had simply blown +down the gas-pipe——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados was inclined to laugh, although he thought +it rather too bad of Louis.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not quite in those terms, Mr Trigget,” he interposed.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Blow down the gas-pipe, sir?” repeated the amazed +man. “What for?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“To ascertain where the other end comes out,” replied +Carlyle.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But don’t you see, sir, that that is a detail until you +ascertain how it is being done? The pipe may be +tapped between the bath and the cistern. Naturally, +I considered that. As a matter of fact, the water-pipe +isn’t tapped. It goes straight up from the bath to the +cistern in the attic above, a distance of only a few feet, +and I have examined it. The gas-pipe, it is true, passes +through a number of flats, and without pulling up all +the floors it isn’t practicable to trace it. But how does +that help us, Mr Carrados? The gas-tap has to be +turned on and off; you can’t do that with these hidden +wires. It has to be lit. I’ve never heard of lighting +gas by optical illusions, sir. Somebody must get in and +out of the flat or else it isn’t human. I’ve spent a week, +a very trying week, sir, in endeavouring to ascertain +how it could be done. I haven’t shirked cold and wet +and solitude, sir, in the discharge of my duty. I’ve +freely placed my poor gifts of observation and intelligence, +such as they are, at the service——”</p> + +<p class='c011'><a id='tn-withdecision'></a>“Not ‘freely,’ Trigget,” interposed his employer with +decision.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am speaking under a deep sense of injury, Mr +<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>Carlyle,” retorted Mr Trigget, who, having had time +to think it over, had now come to the conclusion that +he was not appreciated. “I am alluding to a moral +attitude such as we all possess. I am very grieved by +what has been suggested. I didn’t expect it of you, +Mr Carlyle, sir; indeed I did not. For a week I have +done everything that it has been possible to do, everything +that a long experience could suggest, and now, +as I understand it, sir, you complain that I didn’t blow +down the gas-pipe, sir. It’s hard, sir; it’s very hard.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, well, for heaven’s sake don’t cry about it, +Trigget,” exclaimed Mr Carlyle. “You’re always sobbing +about the place over something or other. We +know you did your best—God help you!” he added +aside.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I did, Mr Carlyle; indeed I did, sir. And I thank +you for that appreciative tribute to my services. I +value it highly, very highly indeed, sir.” A tremulous +note in the rather impassioned delivery made it increasingly +plain that Mr Trigget’s regimen had not been +confined entirely to solid food that day. His wrongs +were forgotten and he approached Mr Carrados with an +engaging air of secrecy.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What is this tip about blowing down the gas-pipe, +sir?” he whispered confidentially. “The old dog’s +always willing to learn something new.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Max,” said Mr Carlyle curtly, “is there anything +more that we need detain Trigget for?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Just this,” replied Carrados after a moment’s +thought. “The gas-bracket—it has a mantle attachment +on?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh no, Mr Carrados,” confided the old dog with +the affectation of imparting rather valuable information, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>“not a mantle on. Oh, certainly no mantle. Indeed—indeed, +not a mantle at all.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle looked at his friend curiously. It was +half evident that something might have miscarried. +Furthermore, it was obvious that the warmth of the +room and the stress of emotion were beginning to have +a disastrous effect on the level of Mr Trigget’s ideas +and speech.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A globe?” suggested Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A globe? No, sir, not even a globe, in the strict +sense of the word. No globe, that is to say, Mr Carrados. +In fact nothing like a globe.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What is there, then?” demanded the blind man +without any break in his unruffled patience. “There +may be another way—but surely—surely there must be +some attachment?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No,” said Mr Trigget with precision, “no attachment +at all; nothing at all; nothing whatsoever. Just +the ordinary or common or penny plain gas-jet, and +above it the whayoumaycallit thingamabob.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The shade—gas consumer—of course!” exclaimed +Carrados. “That is it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The tin thingamabob,” insisted Mr Trigget with +slow dignity. “Call it what you will. Its purpose is +self-evident. It acts as a dispirator—a distributor, +that is to say——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Louis,” struck in Carrados joyously, “are you good +for settling it to-night?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Certainly, my dear fellow, if you can really give the +time.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good; it’s years since I last tackled a ghost. What +about——?” His look indicated the other member of +the council.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Would he be of any assistance?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>“Perhaps—then.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What time?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Say eleven-thirty.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Trigget,” rapped out his employer sharply, “meet +us at the corner of Middlewood and Enderby Roads at +half-past eleven sharp to-night. If you can’t manage +it I shall not require your services again.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Certainly, sir; I shall not fail to be punctual,” replied +Trigget without a tremor. The appearance of an +almost incredible sobriety had possessed him in the +face of warning, and both in speech and manner he was +again exactly the man as he had entered the room. “I +regard it as a great honour, Mr Carrados, to be associated +with you in this business, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In the meanwhile,” remarked Carrados, “if you +find the time hang heavy on your hands you might look +up the subject of ‘platinum black.’ It may be the new +tip you want.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Certainly, sir. But do you mind giving me a hint +as to what ‘platinum black’ is?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is a chemical that has the remarkable property of +igniting hydrogen or coal gas by mere contact,” replied +Carrados. “Think how useful that may be if you +haven’t got a match!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>To mark the happy occasion Mr Carlyle had insisted +on taking his friend off to witness a popular musical +comedy. Carrados had a few preparations to make, a +few accessories to procure for the night’s work, but the +whole business had come within the compass of an hour +and the theatre spanned the interval between dinner +at the Palm Tree and the time when they left the car +at the appointed meeting-place. Mr Trigget was +already there, in an irreproachable state of normal +<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>dejection. Parkinson accompanied the party, bringing +with him the baggage of the expedition.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Anything going on, Trigget?” inquired Mr Carlyle.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’ve made a turn round the place, sir, and the light +was on,” was the reply. “I didn’t go up for fear of +disturbing the conditions before you saw them. That +was about ten minutes ago. Are you going into the +yard to look again? I have all the keys, of course.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do we, Max?” queried Mr Carlyle.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Trigget might. We need not all go. He can +catch us up again.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He caught them up again before they had reached +the outer door.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s still on, sir,” he reported.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do we use any special caution, Max?” asked +Carlyle.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh no. Just as though we were friends of the ghost, +calling in the ordinary way.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Trigget, who retained the keys, preceded the party +up the stairs till the top was reached. He stood a +moment at the door of No. 11 examining, by the light +of the electric lamp he carried, his private marks there +and pointing out to the others in a whisper that they +had not been tampered with. All at once a most dismal +wail, lingering, piercing, and ending in something like a +sob that died away because the life that gave it utterance +had died with it, drawled forebodingly through the +echoing emptiness of the deserted flat. Trigget had +just snapped off his light and in the darkness a startled +exclamation sprang from Mr Carlyle’s lips.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s all right, sir,” said the little man, with a private +satisfaction that he had the diplomacy to conceal. “Bit +creepy, isn’t it? especially when you hear it by yourself +<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>up here for the first time. It’s only the end of the +bath-water running out.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He had opened the door and was conducting them +to the room at the end of the passage. A faint aurora +had been visible from that direction when they first +entered the hall, but it was cut off before they could +identify its source.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That’s what happens,” muttered Trigget.</p> + +<p class='c011'>He threw open the bedroom door without waiting to +examine his marks there and they crowded into the tiny +chamber. Under the beams of the lamps they carried +it was brilliantly though erratically illuminated. All +turned towards the central object of their quest, a +tarnished gas-bracket of the plainest description. A +few inches above it hung the metal disc that Trigget +had alluded to, for the ceiling was low and at that point +it was brought even nearer to the gas by corresponding +with the slant of the roof outside.</p> + +<p class='c011'>With the prescience so habitual with him that it had +ceased to cause remark among his associates Carrados +walked straight to the gas-bracket and touched the +burner.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Still warm,” he remarked. “And so are we getting +now. A thoroughly material ghost, you perceive, +Louis.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But still turned off, don’t you see, Mr Carrados, +sir,” put in Trigget eagerly. “And yet no one’s passed +out.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Still turned off—and still turned on,” commented +the blind man.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What do you mean, Max?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The small screwdriver, Parkinson,” requested Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, upon my word!” dropped Mr Carlyle expressively. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>For in no longer time than it takes to record +the fact Max Carrados had removed a screw and +then knocked out the tap. He held it up towards them +and they all at once saw that so much of the metal had +been filed away that the gas passed through no matter +how the tap stood. “How on earth did you know of +that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Because it wasn’t practicable to do the thing in any +other way. Now unhook the shade, Parkinson—carefully.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The warning was not altogether unnecessary, for the +man had to stand on tiptoes before he could comply. +Carrados received the dingy metal cone and lightly +touched its inner surface.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah, here, at the apex, to be sure,” he remarked. +“The gas is bound to get there. And there, Louis, you +have an ever-lit and yet a truly ‘safety’ match—so far +as gas is concerned. You can buy the thing for a +shilling, I believe.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle was examining the tiny apparatus with +interest. So small that it might have passed for the +mummy of a midget hanging from a cobweb, it appeared +to consist of an insignificant black pellet and an +inch of the finest wire.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Um, I’ve never heard of it. And this will really +light the gas?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“As often as you like. That is the whole bag of +tricks.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle turned a censorious eye upon his lieutenant, +but Trigget was equal to the occasion and met it +without embarrassment.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I hadn’t heard of it either, sir,” he remarked conversationally. +“Gracious, what won’t they be getting +out next, Mr Carlyle!”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>“Now for the mystery of the water.” Carrados was +finding his way to the bathroom and they followed him +down the passage and across the hall. “In its way I +think that this is really more ingenious than the gas, +for, as Mr Trigget has proved for us, the water does +not come from the cistern. The taps, you perceive, are +absolutely dry.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is forced up?” suggested Mr Carlyle, nodding +towards the outlet.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is the obvious alternative. We will test it +presently.” The blind man was down on his hands and +knees following the lines of the different pipes. “Two +degrees more cold are not conclusive, because in any +case the water has gone out that way. Mr Trigget, you +know the ropes, will you be so obliging as to go up to +the cistern and turn the water on.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I shall need a ladder, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Parkinson.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We have a folding ladder out here,” said Parkinson, +touching Mr Trigget’s arm.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“One moment,” interposed Carrados, rising from his +investigation among the pipes; “this requires some +care. I want you to do it without making a sound or +showing a light, if that is possible. Parkinson will help +you. Wait until you hear us raising a diversion at the +other end of the flat. Come, Louis.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The diversion took the form of tapping the wall and +skirting-board in the other haunted room. When +Trigget presented himself to report that the water was +now on Carrados put him to continue the singular exercise +with Mr Carlyle while he himself slipped back to +the bathroom.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The pump, Parkinson,” he commanded in a brisk +whisper to his man, who was waiting in the hall.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>The appliance was not unlike a powerful tyre pump +with some modifications. One tube from it was quickly +fitted to the outlet pipe of the bath, another trailed a +loose end into the bath itself, ready to take up the +water. There were a few other details, the work of +moments. Then Carrados turned on the tap, silencing +the inflow by the attachment of a short length of rubber +tube. When the water had risen a few inches he slipped +off to the other room, told his rather mystified confederates +there that he wanted a little more noise and +bustle put into their performance, and was back again +in the bathroom.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Now, Parkinson,” he directed, and turned off the +tap. There was about a foot of water in the bath.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson stood on the broad base of the pump and +tried to drive down the handle. It scarcely moved.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Harder,” urged Carrados, interpreting every detail +of sound with perfect accuracy.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson set his teeth and lunged again. Again he +seemed to come up against a solid wall of resistance.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Keep trying; something must give,” said his master +encouragingly. “Here, let me——” He threw his +weight into the balance and for a moment they hung +like a group poised before action. Then, somewhere, +something did give and the sheathing plunger “drew.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Now like blazes till the bath is empty. Then you +can tell the others to stop hammering.” Parkinson, +looking round to acquiesce, found himself alone, for +with silent step and quickened senses Carrados was +already passing down the dark flights of the broad stone +stairway.</p> + +<p class='c011'>It was perhaps three minutes later when an excited +gentleman in the state of disrobement that is tacitly +regarded as falling upon the <span lang="la"><i>punctum cæcum</i></span> in times +<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>of fire, flood and nocturnal emergency shot out of the +door of No. 7 and bounding up the intervening flights +of steps pounded with the knocker on the door of No. 9. +As someone did not appear with the instantaneity of a +jack-in-the-box, he proceeded to repeat the summons, +interspersing it with an occasional “I say!” shouted +through the letter-box.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The light above the door made it unconvincing to +affect that no one was at home. The gentleman at the +door trumpeted the fact through his channel of communication +and demanded instant attention. So immersed +was he with his own grievance, in fact, that he +failed to notice the approach of someone on the other +side, and the sudden opening of the door, when it did +take place, surprised him on his knees at his neighbour’s +doorstep, a large and consequential-looking personage +as revealed in the light from the hall, wearing the silk +hat that he had instinctively snatched up, but with his +braces hanging down.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Tupworthy of No. 7, isn’t it?” quickly interposed +the new man before his visitor could speak. +“But why this—homage? Permit me to raise you, +sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Confound it all,” snorted Mr Tupworthy indignantly, +“you’re flooding my flat. The water’s coming +through my bathroom ceiling in bucketfuls. The +plaster’ll fall next. Can’t you stop it? Has a pipe +burst or something?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Something, I imagine,” replied No. 9 with serene +detachment. “At all events it appears to be over +now.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“So I should hope,” was the irate retort. “It’s bad +enough as it is. I shall go round to the office and complain. +<a id='tn-mrbelting'></a>I’ll tell you what it is, Mr Belting: these mansions +<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>are becoming a pandemonium, sir, a veritable +pandemonium.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Capital idea; we’ll go together and complain: two +will be more effective,” suggested Mr Belting. “But +not to-night, Mr Tupworthy. We should not find +anyone there. The office will be closed. Say to-morrow——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I had no intention of anything so preposterous as +going there to-night. I am in no condition to go. If I +don’t get my feet into hot water at once I shall be laid +up with a severe cold. Doubtless you haven’t noticed +it, but I am wet through to the skin, saturated, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Belting shook his head sagely.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Always a mistake to try to stop water coming +through the ceiling,” he remarked. “It will come, you +know. Finds its own level and all that.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I did not try to stop it—at least not voluntarily. +A temporary emergency necessitated a slight rearrangement +of our accommodation. I—I tell you this in confidence—I +was sleeping in the bathroom.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>At the revelation of so notable a catastrophe Mr +Belting actually seemed to stagger. Possibly his eyes +filled with tears; certainly he had to turn and wipe +away his emotion before he could proceed.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not—not right under it?” he whispered.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I imagine so,” replied Mr Tupworthy. “I do not +conceive that I could have been placed more centrally. +I received the full cataract in the region of the ear. +Well, if I may rely on you that it has stopped, I will +terminate our interview for the present.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good-night,” responded the still tremulous Belting. +“Good-night—or good-morning, to be exact.” He +waited with the door open to light the first flight of +stairs for Mr Tupworthy’s descent. Before the door +<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>was closed another figure stepped down quietly from +the obscurity of the steps leading upwards.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Belting, I believe?” said the stranger. “My +name is Carrados. I have been looking over the flat +above. Can you spare me a few minutes?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What, Mr Max Carrados?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The same,” smiled the owner of the name.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Come in, Mr Carrados,” exclaimed Belting, not only +without embarrassment, but with positive affection in +his voice. “Come in by all means. I’ve heard of you +more than once. Delighted to meet you. This way. +I know—I know.” He put a hand on his guest’s arm +and insisted on steering his course until he deposited +him in an easy-chair before a fire. “This looks like +being a great night. What will you have?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados put the suggestion aside and raised a corner +of the situation.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m afraid that I don’t come altogether as a friend,” +he hinted.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s no good,” replied his host. “I can’t regard you +in any other light after this. You heard Tupworthy? +But you haven’t seen the man, Mr Carrados. I know—I’ve +heard—but no wealth of the imagination can +ever really quite reconstruct Tupworthy, the shoddy +magnifico, in his immense porcine complacency, his +monumental self-importance. And sleeping right underneath! +Gods, but we have lived to-night! Why—why +ever did you stop?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You associate me with this business?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Associate you! My dear Mr Carrados, I give you +the full glorious credit for the one entirely successful +piece of low comedy humour in real life that I have ever +encountered. Indeed, in a legal and pecuniary sense, +I hold you absolutely responsible.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>“Oh!” exclaimed Carrados, beginning to laugh +quietly. Then he continued: “I think that I shall +come through that all right. I shall refer you to Mr +Carlyle, the private inquiry agent, and he will doubtless +pass you on to your landlord, for whom he is acting, +and I imagine that he in turn will throw all the responsibility +on the ingenious gentleman who has put them +to so much trouble. Can you guess the result of my +investigation in the flat above?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Guess, Mr Carrados? I don’t need to guess: I +<em>know</em>. You don’t suppose I thought for a moment that +such transparent devices as two intercepted pipes and +an automatic gas-lighter would impose on a man of +intelligence? They were only contrived to mystify the +credulous imagination of clerks and porters.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You admit it, then?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Admit! Good gracious, of course I admit it, Mr +Carrados. What’s the use of denying it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Precisely. I am glad you see that. And yet you +seem far from being a mere practical joker. Does your +confidence extend to the length of letting me into your +object?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Between ourselves,” replied Mr Belting, “I haven’t +the least objection. But I wish that you would have—say +a cup of coffee. Mrs Belting is still up, I believe. +She would be charmed to have the opportunity——No? +Well, just as you like. Now, my object? You +must understand, Mr Carrados, that I am a man of sufficient +leisure and adequate means for the small position +we maintain. But I am not unoccupied—not idle. +On the contrary, I am always busy. I don’t approve +of any man passing his time aimlessly. I have a number +of interests in life—hobbies, if you like. You +should appreciate that, as you are a private criminologist. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>I am—among other things which don’t concern +us now—a private retributionist. On every side people +are becoming far too careless and negligent. An era of +irresponsibility has set in. Nobody troubles to keep his +word, to carry out literally his undertakings. In my +small way I try to set that right by showing them the +logical development of their ways. I am, in fact, the +sworn enemy of anything approaching sloppiness. You +smile at that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is a point of view,” replied Carrados. “I was +wondering how the phrase at this moment would convey +itself, say, to Mr Tupworthy’s ear.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Belting doubled up.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But don’t remind me of Tupworthy or I can’t get +on,” he said. “In my method I follow the system of +Herbert Spencer towards children. Of course you are +familiar with his treatise on ‘Education’? If a rough +boy persists, after warnings, in tearing or soiling all his +clothes, don’t scold him for what, after all, is only a +natural and healthy instinct overdone. But equally, +of course, don’t punish yourself by buying him other +clothes. When the time comes for the children to be +taken to an entertainment little Tommy cannot go with +them. It would not be seemly, and he is too ashamed, +to go in rags. He begins to see the force of practical +logic. Very well. If a tradesman promises—promises +explicitly—delivery of his goods by a certain time and +he fails, he finds that he is then unable to leave them. +I pay on delivery, by the way. If a man undertakes to +make me an article like another—I am painstaking, +Mr Carrados: I point out at the time how exactly like +I want it—and it is (as it generally is) on completion +something quite different, I decline to be easy-going and +to be put off with it. I take the simplest and most obvious +<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>instances; I could multiply indefinitely. It is, of +course, frequently inconvenient to me, but it establishes +a standard.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I see that you are a dangerous man, Mr Belting,” +remarked Carrados. “If most men were like you our +national character would be undermined. People would +have to behave properly.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If most men were like me we should constitute an +intolerable nuisance,” replied Belting seriously. “A +necessary reaction towards sloppiness would set in and +find me at its head. I am always with minorities.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And the case in point?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The present trouble centres round the kitchen sink. +It is cracked and leaks. A trivial cause for so elaborate +an outcome, you may say, but you will doubtless +remember that two men quarrelling once at a spring as +to who should use it first involved half Europe in a war, +and the whole tragedy of <cite>Lear</cite> sprang from a silly business +round a word. I hadn’t noticed the sink when we +took this flat, but the landlord had solemnly sworn to +do everything that was necessary. Is a new sink necessary +to replace a cracked one? Obviously. Well, you +know what landlords are: possibly you are one yourself. +They promise you heaven until you have signed +the agreement and then they tell you to go to hell. +Suggested that we’d probably broken the sink ourselves +and would certainly be looked to to replace it. An +excellent servant caught a cold standing in the drip +and left. Was I to be driven into paying for a new sink +myself? Very well, I thought, if the reasonable complaint +of one tenant is nothing to you, see how you like +the unreasonable complaints of fifty. The method +served a useful purpose too. When Mrs Belting heard +that old tale about the tragedy at No. 11 she was terribly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>upset; vowed that she couldn’t stay alone in here +at night on any consideration.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘My dear,’ I said, ‘don’t worry yourself about +ghosts. I’ll make as good a one as ever lived, and then +when you see how it takes other people in, just remember +next time you hear of another that someone’s +pulling the string.’ And I really don’t think that she’ll +ever be afraid of ghosts again.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Thank you,” said Carrados, rising. “Altogether +I have spent a very entertaining evening, Mr Belting. +I hope your retaliatory method won’t get you into serious +trouble this time.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why should it?” demanded Belting quickly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, well, tenants are complaining, the property is +being depreciated. The landlord may think that he has +legal redress against you.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But surely I am at liberty to light the gas or use the +bath in my own flat when and how I like?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>A curious look had come into Mr Belting’s smiling +face; a curious note must have sounded in his voice. +Carrados was warned and, being warned, guessed.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You are a wonderful man,” <a id='tn-upraised'></a>he said with upraised +hand. “I capitulate. Tell me how it is, won’t you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I knew the man at 11. His tenancy isn’t really up +till March, but he got an appointment in the north and +had to go. His two unexpired months weren’t worth +troubling about, so I got him to sublet the flat to me—all +quite regularly—for a nominal consideration, and +not to mention it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But he gave up the keys?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No. He left them in the door and the porter took +them away. Very unwarrantable of him; surely I can +keep my keys where I like? However, as I had another.… +Really, Mr Carrados, you hardly imagine +<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>that unless I had an absolute right to be there I should +penetrate into a flat, tamper with the gas and water, +knock the place about, tramp up and down——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I go,” said Carrados, “to get our people out in +haste. Good-night.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good-night, Mr Carrados. It’s been a great privilege +to meet you. Sorry I can’t persuade you.…”</p> + +</div> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span></div> +<div class='chapter' id='chapter-6'> + +<div> + <h2 class='c006'>VI<br> <br>The Missing Actress Sensation</h2> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_15_0_65 c010'><span class="uppercase">First nights</span> are not what they were, even +within the memory of playgoers who would be +startled to hear anyone else refer to them as +“elderly.” But there are yet occasions of exception, +and the production of <cite>Call a Spade——</cite> at the Argosy +Theatre was marked by at least one feature of note. +The play itself was “sound,” though not epoch-making. +The performance of the leading lady was satisfactory +and exactly what was to be expected from her. The +leading gentleman was equally effective in a part which—as +eight out of twelve dramatic critics happily +phrased it on the morrow—“fitted him like a glove”; +and on the same preponderance of opinion the character +actor “contrived to extract every ounce of humour +from the material at his disposal.” In other words, +<cite>Call a Spade——</cite> might so far be relied upon to run an +attenuating course for about fifty nights and then to be +discreetly dropped, “pending the continuance of its +triumphal progress at another West End house—should +a suitable habitation become available.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>But a very different note came into the reviews when +the writers passed to the achievement of another member +of the company—a young actress described on the +programme as Miss Una Roscastle. Miss Roscastle +<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>was unknown to London critics and London audiences. +She had come from Dublin with no very great dramatic +reputation, but it is to be presumed that the +quite secondary part which she had been given on her +first metropolitan appearance was peculiarly suited to +her talent. No one was more surprised than the author +at the remarkable characterisation that “Mary Ryan” +assumed in Miss Roscastle’s hands. He was the more +surprised because he had failed to notice anything of +the kind at rehearsals. Dimly he suspected that the +young lady had got more out of the part than he had +ever put into it, and while outwardly loud in his expression +of delight, he was secretly uncertain whether +to be pleased or annoyed. The leading lady also went +out of her way to congratulate the young neophyte +effusively on her triumph—and then slapped her unfortunate +dresser on very insufficient provocation; but +the lessee manager spoke of his latest acquisition with +a curious air of restraint. At the end of the second +act Miss Roscastle took four calls. After that she was +only required for the first few minutes of the last act, +and many among the audience noted with surprise that +she did not appear with the company at the fall of the +curtain—she had, in fact, already left the house. All +the same the success of the piece constituted a personal +triumph for herself. Thenceforth, instead of, “Oh yes, +you might do worse than book seats at the Argosy,” the +people who had been, said, “Now don’t forget; you +positively <em>must</em> see Miss Roscastle in <cite>Call a Spade——</cite>,” and as the Press had said very much the +same, the difference to the box-office was something, +but to the actress it was everything. Miss Roscastle, +indeed, had achieved that rare distinction of “waking +to find herself famous.” Nothing could have seemed +<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>more assured and roseate than her professional future.</p> + +<p class='c011'>About a week later Max Carrados was interrupted +one afternoon in the middle of composing an article on +Sicilian numismatics by a telephone call from Mr +Carlyle. The blind man smiled as he returned his +friend’s greeting, for Louis Carlyle’s voice was wonderfully +suggestive in its phases of the varying aspects of +the speaker himself, and at that moment it conveyed a +portrait of Mr Carlyle in his very best early-morning +business manner—spruce and debonair, a little obtuse +to things beyond his experience and impervious to +criticism, but self-confident, trenchant and within +his limits capable. In its crisp yet benign complacency +Carrados could almost have sworn to resplendent patent +boots, the current shade in suède gloves and a carefully +selected picotee.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If you are doing nothing better to-night, Max,” +continued the inquiry agent, “would you join me at the +Argosy Theatre? I have a box, and we might go on +to the Savoy afterwards. Now don’t say you are engaged, +there’s a good fellow,” he urged. <a id='tn-monthor'></a>“You haven’t +given me the chance of playing host for a month or +more.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The fact is,” confessed Carrados, “I was there for +the first night only a week ago.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“How unfortunate,” exclaimed the other. “But +don’t you think that you could put up with it again?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am sure I can,” agreed Carrados. “Yes, I will +join you there with pleasure.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Delightful,” crowed Mr Carlyle. “Let us say——” +The essential details were settled in a trice, but the +“call” had not yet expired and the sociable gentleman +still held the wire. “Were you interested in Miss +Roscastle, Max?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>“Decidedly.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is fortunate. My choice of a theatre is not +unconnected with a case I have on hand. I may be +able to tell you something about the lady.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Possibly we shall not be alone?” suggested +Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, no; not absolutely,” admitted Carlyle. +“Charming young fellow, though. I’m sure you’ll like +him, Max. Trevor Enniscorthy, a younger son of old +Lord Sleys.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Conventional rotter, between ourselves?” inquired +Max.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not a bit of it,” declared Mr Carlyle loyally. “A +young fellow of five and twenty is none the worse for +being enamoured of a fascinating creature who happens +to be on the stage. He is——Oh, very well. Good-bye, +Max. Eight-fifteen, remember.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>They were all punctual. In fact, “If Mr Enniscorthy +could have got me along we should have been +here before the doors opened,” declared Mr Carlyle +when the blind man joined them. “Now why are +there no programmes about here, I wonder?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I hardly fancy they anticipate their box-holders +arriving twenty minutes before the curtain rises,” suggested +Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There are some,” exclaimed Mr Enniscorthy, dashing +out as an attendant crossed the circle. He was +back in a moment, and standing in the obscurity of the +box eagerly tore open the programme. “Still in,” he +muttered, coming forward and throwing the paper +down for the others to refer to. “Oh, excuse my impatience,” +he apologised, colouring. “I am rather——” +He left them to supply the rest.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Enniscorthy has given me permission to explain +<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>his position, Max,” began Mr Carlyle, but the young +man abruptly cut short the proposition stated in this +vein of deference.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’d rather put it that if Mr Carrados would help me +with his advice I should be most awfully grateful,” he +said in a very clear, rather highly pitched voice. “I +suppose it’s inevitable to feel no end of an ass over this +sort of thing, but I’m desperately in earnest and I <em>must</em> +go through with it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Admirable!” beamed Mr Carlyle’s inextinguishable +eye, and he murmured: “Very natural, I am sure,” +in the voice of a man who has just been told to go up +higher.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Perhaps you know that there is a Miss Roscastle +put down as appearing in this piece?” went on Enniscorthy. +“Well, I knew Miss Roscastle rather well in +Ireland. I came to London because——I followed +her here.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Engaged?” dropped quietly from Carrados’s lips.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I cannot say that we were actually engaged,” was +the admission, “but it—well, you know how these +things stand. At all events she knew what I felt towards +her and she did not discourage my hopes.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Did your people know of this, Mr Enniscorthy?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I had not spoken to my father or to my stepmother, +but they might easily have heard something of it,” replied +the young man. “Miss Roscastle, although she +did not go about much, was received by the very best +people in Dublin. Of course for many things I did not +like her being on the stage; in fact I detested it, but +she had taken the step before I knew her, and how +could I object? Then she got the offer of this London +engagement. She was ambitious to get on in her profession, +and took it. In a very short time I found it +<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>impossible to exist there without seeing her, so I made +an excuse to get away and followed.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Let me see,” put in Mr Carlyle ingenuously; “I +forget the exact dates.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Miss Roscastle came on Monday, October the 4th,” +said Enniscorthy. “The piece opened on the following +Thursday week—the 14th. I left Kingstown by the +early boat yesterday. At this end we were nearly an +hour late, and after going to my hotel, changing and +dining, I had just time to come on here and bag the last +stall. I thought that I would send a note round after +the first act and ask Una to give me a few minutes afterwards. +But it never came to that. Instead I got a +very large surprise. ‘Mary Ryan’ came on, and I +looked—and looked again. I didn’t need glasses, but +I got a pair out of the automatic box in front of me and +had another level stare. Well, it wasn’t Miss Roscastle. +This girl was like her. I suppose to most people they +would be wonderfully alike, and her voice—although it +wasn’t really Irish—yes, her voice was similar. But to +me there were miles of difference. I saw at once that +she was an understudy, although ‘Miss Una Roscastle’ +was still down in the programme, and I began to quake +at the thought of something having happened to her.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I slipped out into the corridor—I had an end seat—and +got hold of a programme girl.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Do you know why Miss Roscastle is out of the cast +to-night?’ I asked her. ‘Is she indisposed?’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“She took the programme out of my hand and +pointed to a name in it.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘She’s in all right,’ she replied—stupidly, I thought. +‘There’s her name.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Yes, she is on the programme,’ I replied, ‘but not +<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>on the stage. Look through the glass there. That is +not Miss Roscastle.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“She glanced through the glazed door and then +turned away as though she suspected me of chaffing +her.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘It’s the only Miss Roscastle I’ve ever seen here,’ +she said as she went.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I wandered about and interrogated one or two other +attendants. They all gave me the same answer. I +began to get frightened.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘They must be misled by the resemblance,’ I assured +myself. ‘It really is wonderful.’ I went back to +my seat and then remembered that I had got no further +with my original inquiry, which was to find out +whether Una was ill or not. I couldn’t remain. I kept +my eyes fixed on ‘Mary Ryan’ every time she was on +the stage, and every time I became more and more +convinced. Finally I got up again and going round +sent in my card to the manager.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Stokesey?” asked Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes. I didn’t know who was technically the right +man, but he, at any rate, had engaged Miss Roscastle. +He saw me at once.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘I have come across from Dublin to see Miss Roscastle,’ +I told him, ‘and I am very disappointed to find +her out of the cast. Can you tell me why she is away?’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Surely you are mistaken,’ he replied, opening a +programme that lay before him. ‘Do you know Miss +Roscastle by sight?’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Very well indeed,’ I retorted. ‘Better than your +staff do. The “Mary Ryan” to-night is not Miss Roscastle.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘I will inquire,’ he said, walking to the door. +‘Please wait a minute.’</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>“He was rigidly courteous, but instinct was telling +me all the time that it was sheer bluff. He had nothing +to inquire. In a moment he was back again.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘I am informed that the programme is correct,’ he +said with the same smooth insincerity, standing in the +middle of the room for me to leave. ‘Miss Roscastle is +on the stage at this moment. The make-up must have +deceived you, Mr Enniscorthy.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I had nothing to reply, because I did not even know +what to think. I simply proceeded to walk out.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘One moment.’ I had reached the door when Mr +Stokesey spoke. ‘You are a friend of Miss Roscastle, +I suppose?’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘I think I may claim that.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Then I would merely suggest to you that to start +a rumour crediting her with being out of the piece is a +service she would fail to appreciate. Good-evening.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I left the theatre because I despaired of getting any +real information after that, and it occurred to me that +I could do better elsewhere. Although Una and I did +not correspond, I had begged her, before she left, to let +me know that she arrived safely, and she had sent me +just half-a-dozen lines. I now took a taxi and drove +off to the address she had given—a sort of private hotel +or large boarding-house near Holborn.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Can you tell me if Miss Roscastle is in?’ I asked +at the office.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Roscastle?’ said the fellow there. ‘Oh, the young +lady from the theatre. Why, she left us more than a +week ago—nearer two, I should say.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This was another facer.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Can you give me the address she went to?’ I +asked.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>“‘Couldn’t; against our rule,’ he replied. ‘Any letters +for her were to be sent to the theatre.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I didn’t think it would be successful to offer him a +bribe, so I thanked him and walked away. As the hall +porter opened the door for me I dropped him a word. +In two minutes he came out to where I was waiting.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘A Miss Roscastle left here a week or two ago,’ I +said. ‘They won’t give me her address, but you can +get it. Here’s a Bradbury. I’ll be here again in half-an-hour +and if you’ve got the address—the house, not +the theatre—there’ll be another for you when I’ve +verified it.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He looked a bit doubtful. Evidently a decent +fellow, I thought.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘It’s quite all right,’ I assured him. ‘We are engaged, +but I’ve only just come over.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He was waiting for me when I returned. The first +thing he did was to tender me the note back <a id='tn-superfluous'></a>again—a +piece of superfluous honesty that prepared me for the +worst.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘I’m sorry, sir, but it’s no go,’ he explained. ‘The +young lady left no address beyond the theatre.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘You called a cab for her when she went?’ I suggested.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Yes, sir, but she gave the directions while I was +bringing out her things. I never heard where it was +to go.’”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And that is as far as we have got up to this moment, +Max,” struck in Mr Carlyle briskly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m afraid it is,” corroborated Enniscorthy. “I +got round to the stage door here in time to see most of +the people leave, but neither Miss Roscastle nor the girl +like her were among them.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“She is off half-an-hour before the piece finishes,” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>explained Carrados. “And of course she might not +leave by the stage door.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In any case it is an extraordinary enough business, +is it not, Mr Carrados?” said Enniscorthy, rather +anxious not to be set down a blundering young idiot +for his pains. “What does it mean?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“So far I would describe it as—curious,” admitted +Carrados guardedly. “Investigation may justify a +stronger term. In the meanwhile we need not miss the +play.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>By this time the theatre had practically filled and the +orchestra was tuning up for the overture. With nothing +to occupy his attention, Mr Enniscorthy began to +manifest an unhappy restlessness that increased until +the play had been proceeding for some few minutes. +Then Carrados heard Mr Carlyle murmur, “Charming! +Charming!” in a tone of mature connoisseurship; there +was a spontaneous round of applause and “Mary Ryan” +was on the scene.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The understudy again,” Enniscorthy whispered to +his companions.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well,” remarked Mr Carlyle when the curtain descended +for the first interval, “you are still equally +convinced, Mr Enniscorthy?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There isn’t the shadow of a doubt,” he replied.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados had been writing a few lines on one of his +cards. He now summoned an attendant.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Stokesey is in the house?” he asked. “Then +give him this, please—when you next go that way.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Before the curtain rose the girl came round to the +box again.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Carrados?” she inquired. “Mr Stokesey told +me to say that he would save you the trouble by looking +in here during the next interval.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>“Shall I remain?” asked Enniscorthy.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh yes. Stokesey is a most amiable man to do +with. I know him slightly. His attitude to you was +evidently the outcome of the circumstances. We shall +all get along very nicely.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The second act was the occasion of “Mary Ryan’s” +great opportunity and again she carried the enthusiasm +of the audience. After the curtain the young actress +had to respond to an insistent call. In the +darkness Mr Stokesey entered the box and stood waiting +at the back.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Glad to see you here again, Mr Carrados,” he remarked, +shaking hands with the blind man as soon as +the lights were up. Then he looked at the other occupants. +“My word, I have put my head into the lion’s +den!” he continued, his smile deepening into a good-natured +grin. “Don’t shoot, Mr Enniscorthy; I will +climb down without. I see that the game is up.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What are you going to tell us?” asked Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Everything I know. The lady who has just gone +off is not Miss Roscastle. Mr Enniscorthy was quite +right; she wasn’t here last night either.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then why is her name still in the programme, and +why do you and your people keep up the fiction?” +demanded Enniscorthy.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Because I hoped that Miss Roscastle might have +returned to the cast to-night, and, failing to-night, I +hope that she will return to-morrow. Because we happen +to have a substitute in Miss Linknorth so extraordinarily +like the original lady in appearance and voice +that no one—excluding yourself—will have noticed the +difference, and because I have a not unreasonable objection +to announcing that the chief attraction of my +<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>theatre is out of the cast. Is there anything very unaccountable +in that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle nodded acquiescence to this moderate +proposition; Enniscorthy seemed to admit it reluctantly; +it remained for Carrados to accept the challenge.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Only one thing,” he replied with some reluctance.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And what is that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That Miss Roscastle will not return to the cast and +that you are well aware why she never can return +to it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I—what?” demanded the astonished manager.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Miss Roscastle cannot <em>return</em> to the cast because +she has never been in it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Stokesey wavered, burst into a roar of laughter and +sat down.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I give in,” he exclaimed heartily. “That’s my last +ditch. Now you really do know everything that I do.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But why has she not been in?” demanded Enniscorthy.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Better ask the lady herself. I cannot even guess.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I will when I can find her.” Not for the first time +the young man was assailed by a horrid fear that he +might have been making a fool of himself. “Where in +the meantime is she?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The Lord alone knows,” retorted Mr Stokesey +feelingly. “Don’t annihilate me, Mr Enniscorthy; I +don’t mean a member of the peerage. But, I’ll tell you, +the lady put me in a very deuced fix.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Won’t you take us into your confidence?” suggested +Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I will, Mr Carrados, because I want a consideration +from you in return. I can put it into a very few words. +Twenty minutes before the curtain went up on the first +<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>night a note was sent in to Miss Roscastle. She read it, +put on her hat and coat and went out hurriedly by the +stage door.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well?” said Carlyle encouragingly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is all. That is the last we saw of her—heard +of her. She never returned.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But—but——” stammered Enniscorthy, and came +up short before the abysmal nature of the prospect +confronting him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There are a good many ‘buts’ to be taken into consideration, +Mr Enniscorthy,” said the manager, with a +rather cryptic look. “Fortunately we had Miss Linknorth, +and the first costume, as you know, is immaterial. +Up to the last possible moment we hung on to Miss +Roscastle’s return. Then the other had to go on.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“With not very serious consequences to the success +of the play, apparently,” remarked Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That’s the devilment of it,” exclaimed Stokesey +warmly. “Don’t you see the hole it has put me into? +If ‘Mary Ryan’ had remained a negligible quantity it +wouldn’t have mattered two straws. But for her own +diabolical vanity Miss Linknorth made a confounded +success of the part. Of course it was too late to have +any alteration printed on the first night and now Miss +Roscastle is the draw of the piece. People come to see +Miss Roscastle. Miss Roscastle <em>is</em> the piece.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But if you explained that Miss Linknorth was really +the creator of the part——” suggested Mr Carlyle.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Stokesey rattled a provocative laugh at the back of +his throat.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You run a theatre for a few seasons, my dear fellow, +and then talk,” he retorted. “You can’t explain; you +can’t do anything; you can only just sit there. People +cease to be rational beings when they set out for a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>theatre. If you breathe on a howling success it goes +out. If you move a gold mine of a piece from one +theatre to another, next door, everyone promptly decides +to stay away. Don’t ask me the reasons; there +are none. It isn’t a business; it ought to come under +the Gaming Act.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Stokesey is also faced by the alternative that +after he had announced Miss Linknorth, Miss Roscastle +might appear any time and claim her place.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The manager nodded. “That’s another consideration,” +he said.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But could she?” inquired Mr Carlyle. “After absenting +herself in this way?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, goodness knows; I dare say she could—agreements +are no good when it comes to anything happening. +At any rate here am I with an element of success +after a procession of distinct non-stops. If we get well +set, whatever happens will matter less. Now I +haven’t gone to any Machiavellian lengths in arranging +this, but I have taken the chance as it came along. I’ve +told you everything I know. Is there any reason why +you shouldn’t do us all a good turn by keeping it +strictly to yourselves?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t know that I particularly owe you any consideration, +Mr Stokesey, or that you owe me any,” +announced Mr Enniscorthy. “Just now I am only +concerned in discovering what has become of Miss +Roscastle. You know her address?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In Kensington?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, yes.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“74 Westphalia Mansions.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You sent there of course?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Heavens, yes! The various forms of messages +must be six inches deep all over the hall by now. Last +<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>Friday I had a man sitting practically all day on her +doorstep.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But she has someone there—a housekeeper or +maid?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t think so. She told me that she was taking a +little furnished flat—asked me if the neighbourhood +was a suitable one. I imagine there was something +about a daily woman until she found how she liked it. +<a id='tn-hadnoone'></a>We’ve had no one from there anyway.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then it comes to this, that for a week there has been +absolutely no trace of Miss Roscastle’s existence! Do +you quite realise your responsibility, Mr Stokesey?” +demanded Enniscorthy with increased misgivings.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The manager, who had turned to go, caught Mr Carlyle’s +eye over the concerned young man’s shoulder. +“I don’t think that Miss Roscastle’s friends need have +any anxiety about her personal safety,” he replied with +expression. “At all events I’ve done everything I can +for you; I hope that you will not fail to meet my views. +If there’s anything else that occurs to you, Mr Carrados, +I shall be in my office. Good-night.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Callous brute!” muttered Mr Enniscorthy. “He +ought to have put it in the hands of the police a week +ago.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle glanced at Carrados, who had transferred +his interest to the rendering of the last musical item +of the interval.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Possibly Miss Roscastle would prefer a less public +investigation if she had a voice in the matter,” said +the professional man.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If she happens to be shut up in some beastly underground +cellar I imagine she would prefer whatever gets +her out the soonest. I dare say it sounds fantastic, but +<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>such things really do happen now and then, you know, +and why not?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You don’t know of any threats or blackmailing +letters?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No,” admitted the young man; “but I do know +this, that if Una was at liberty she would never allow +another actress to take her place and use her name in +this way.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A very significant suggestion,” put in Carrados +from his detached attitude. “Mr Enniscorthy has +given you a really valuable hint, Louis.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t mean that Miss Roscastle is really out-of-the-way +jealous,” Enniscorthy hastened to add, “but +in her profession——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, most natural, most natural,” agreed the urbane +Carlyle. “Everyone has to look after his own interest. +Now——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t suppose that you are particularly keen +on this act,” interposed the blind man. “Are you, +Mr Enniscorthy?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’d much rather be doing something,” was the reply.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I was going to suggest that you might go round +to Westphalia Mansions, just to make sure that there +is no one there now. Then if you would find your way +to our table at the Savoy we could hear your report.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, certainly. I shall be glad to think that I can +be of some assistance by going.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle’s optimistic temper was almost incapable +of satire, but he could not refrain from, “You can—poor +beggar!” on Enniscorthy’s departure. “I suppose,” +he continued, turning to his friend, “I suppose +you think that Stokesey may——? Eh?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I fancy that in the absence of our young friend he +may be induced to become more confidential. He may +<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>have some good ground for believing that the missing +lady will not upset his ingenious plan. He, at all +events, discounts the ‘underground cellar.’”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, that!” commented Carlyle with an indulgent +smile. “But, after all, what is the answer, Max? +Enniscorthy is a thoroughly eligible young fellow and +this was the first chance of her career. What is the +inducement?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That much we can safely emphasise. What, in a +word, would induce an ambitious young lady to throw +up a good engagement, Louis?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A better?” suggested Mr Carlyle.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Exactly,” agreed Carrados; “a better.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>It is unnecessary to follow the course of Mr Carlyle’s +inquiry on the facts already disclosed, for, less than +twenty-four hours later, the whole situation was +changed and Mr Stokesey’s discreet prevarication had +been torn into shreds. The manager had calculated in +vain—if he had calculated and not just accepted the +chance that presented itself. At all events the fiction +proved too elaborate to be maintained and late in the +afternoon of the following day all the evening papers +blazed out with the</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>“SENSATIONAL DISAPPEARANCE OF</div> + <div>POPULAR LONDON ACTRESS”</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>The event was particularly suited to the art of the +contents bill, for when the news came to be analysed +there was little else to be learned beyond the name of +the missing actress and the fact that “at the theatre a +policy of questionable reticence is being maintained +towards all inquiry.” That phrase caused two men at +<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>least to smile as they realised the embarrassment of +Mr Stokesey’s dubious position.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The conditions being favourable, the Missing Actress +sensation caught on at once and effectually asphyxiated +public interest in all the other sensations that up to +that moment had been satisfying the mental requirements +of the nation—a “Mysterious Submarine,” an +“Eloping Dean” (three wives), and an “Are We Becoming +Too Intellectual?” correspondence. Supply followed +demand, and it very soon became difficult to decide, +not where Miss Roscastle was, but where she was +not. Public opinion wavered between Genoa, on the +authority of a retired lime and slate merchant of Hull +who had had a presentiment while directing a breathless +lady to the docks, when a Wilson liner was on the +point of sailing; Leatherhead, the suggestion of a booking-office +clerk who had been struck by the peculiar +look in a veiled lady’s eyes as she asked for a third-class +return to Cheam; and Accrington, where a young +lady with a marked Irish accent and a theatrical manner +had inquired about lodgings at three different +houses and then abruptly left, saying that she would +come back if she thought any more about it.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Before the novelty was two days old Scotland Yard +had been stirred into recognising its existence. A +London clue was forthcoming, apparently the wildest +and most circumstantial of them all. A plain-clothes +constable of the A Division reported that an hour after +midnight three days before he had noticed a shabby-genteel +man, who seemed to be waiting for someone, +loitering on the Embankment near the Boadicea statue. +There was nothing in the circumstance to interest him, +but when he repassed the spot ten minutes later the +man had been joined by a woman. The sharp eyes of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>the constable told him that the woman was well and +even fashionably dressed, although she had made some +precaution to conceal it, and the fact quickened his +observation. As he shambled past—an Embankment +dead-beat for the occasion—he heard the name +“Roscastle” spoken by one of the two. He could not +distinguish by which, nor the sense in which the word +was used, but his notebook, with the name written +down under the correct date, corroborated so much. +On neither occasion had he seen the face of the man +distinctly—the threadbare individual had sought the +shadows—but he was able to describe that of the +woman in some detail. He was shown half-a-dozen +photographs and at once identified that of Miss Roscastle. +The crowning touch requisite to make this +story entirely popular was supplied by an inspector of +river police. According to the newspaper account, the +patrol boat was off the Embankment near Westminster +Bridge between one and a quarter-past on the night in +question when a distinct splash was heard. The crew +made for the spot, flashed the lights about and drifted +up and down several times, but without finding a trace +of any human presence. At once the public voice demanded +that the river should be dragged from Chelsea +to The Pool, and, pending the result, every shabby +wastrel who appeared on the Embankment arrested.</p> + +<p class='c011'>In his private office Mr Carlyle threw down the last +of his morning papers with an expression that began as +a knowing smile but ended rather dubiously. For his +own part he would have much preferred that the disappearance +of Miss Roscastle had not leaked out—that +he had been left to pursue his course unaided, but, in +the circumstances, he carefully read everything on the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>chance of a useful hint. The Embankment story both +amused and puzzled him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>He dismissed the subject to its proper mental pigeonhole +and had turned to deal with his most confidential +correspondence when something very like an altercation +breaking the chaste decorum of his outer office +caused him to stop and frown. The next moment there +was a hurrying step outside, the door was snatched open +and Mr Enniscorthy, pale and distracted, stumbled into +the room. Behind him appeared the indignant face of +Mr Carlyle’s chief clerk. Then the visitor extinguished +the outraged vision by flinging back the door as he went +forward.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Have you seen the papers?” he demanded. “Is +there anything dreadful in them?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have seen the papers, yes,” replied the puzzled +agent. “I am not aware——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I mean the evening papers—just out. No, I see +you haven’t. Here, read that and tell me. I haven’t—I +dare not look.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle took the journal that Enniscorthy thrust +under his eyes—it was the earliest <cite>Star</cite>—glanced into +his visitor’s face a little severely <a id='tn-focussed'></a>and then focussed on +the column.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good heavens!” he exclaimed, “what is this! +‘MISSING ACTRESS. EMBANKMENT CLUE. +BODY FOUND!’”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah!” groaned Enniscorthy. “That was on the +bills. Is it——?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s all right, it’s all right, my dear sir,” reported +Mr Carlyle, glancing along the lines. “This is the body +of a man … the man who was seen … most extraordinary.…”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My God!” was wrung from the distressed young +<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>man as he dropped into a chair. “Oh, my God! I +thought——” He took out his handkerchief, wiped +and fanned his face, and for the next few minutes +looked rather languidly on things.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very distressing,” commiserated Mr Carlyle when +he had come to the end of the report. “Can I get you +anything—brandy, a glass of water——? <a id='tn-sipping'></a>The mere act of +sipping, I am medically informed, has a beneficial +effect in case of faintness. I have——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nothing, thanks. I shall be all right now. Sorry +to have made an ass of myself. You have heard—anything?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nothing definite so far,” was the admission. “But +there may be something worth following in this story +after all. I shall go down to the mortuary shortly. +Do you care to accompany me?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, thanks,” replied the visitor. “I have had +enough of that particular form of excitement for +one morning.… Unless, of course, there is anything +I——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He was assured that there was nothing to be effected +by his presence and half-an-hour later Mr Carlyle made +his way alone to the obscure mortuary where the unclaimed +dead hold their grim reception.</p> + +<p class='c011'>An inspector of the headquarters investigation staff +who had been put on to the case was standing by the +side of one of the shells when Carlyle entered. He was +a man whom the private agent had more than once +good-naturedly obliged in small matters that had come +within his reach. He now greeted Mr Carlyle with consideration +and stood aside to allow him to approach +the body.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The Embankment case, I suppose, sir?” he remarked. +“Not very attractive, but I’ve seen many +<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>worse in here.” He jerked off the upper part of the +rough coverlet and exposed a visage that caused Mr +Carlyle to turn away with a “Tch, tch!” of emotion. +Then a sense of duty drew him round again and he +proceeded to note the descriptive points of the dead +man in his pocket-book.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No marks of violence, I suppose?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nothing beyond the usual abrasions that we always +find. A clear case of drowning—suicide—it seems to +be.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And the things?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The inspector nodded towards a seedy suit laid out +for identification and an overcoat, once rakish of its +fashion and now frayed and mouldering, put with it.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Fur collar too, Mr Carlyle,” pointed out his guide. +“‘Velvet and rags,’ isn’t it? ‘Where moth and rust +doth corrupt.’ A sermon could be made out of this.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very true; very true indeed,” replied Mr Carlyle, +who always responded to the sentimentally obvious. +“It is a sermon, inspector. But what have we here?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Beside the garments had been collected together a +heap of metal discs—quite a considerable heap, numbering +some hundreds. Carlyle took up a few and examined +them. They were all alike—flat, perfectly +round and somewhat under an inch in diameter. They +were quite plain and apparently of lead.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“H’m, curious,” he commented. “In his pockets?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; both overcoat pockets. Very determined, +wasn’t he? They would have kept him down till the +Day of Judgment. I’ve counted them—just five +hundred.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Any money?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The inspector smiled his tragi-comic appreciation—the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>coin embellished the moral of his unwritten sermon—and +pointed.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A halfpenny!” he replied.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Poor fellow!” said Mr Carlyle. “Well, well; perhaps +it is better as it is. You might pull up the cloth +again now, please.… There are no letters or papers, +I see.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The detective hesitated a moment and then recalled +the obligation he was under.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There is a scrap of paper that I have kept from the +Press so far,” he admitted. “It was tightly clenched +in the man’s right hand—so tight that we had to use +a screw-driver to get it out, and the water had barely +reached it.” He was extracting a slip of paper from +his notebook as he spoke and he now unfolded it. +“You won’t put it about, will you, Mr Carlyle? I +don’t know that there’s anything tangible in it, but—well, +see for yourself.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Extraordinary!” admitted the gentleman. He read +the words a second time: “‘Fool! What does it matter +now?’ Why, it might almost——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It might be addressed to the coroner, or to anyone +who tries to find out who he is or what it means, you +would say. Well, so it might, sir. Anyhow, that is all.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“By the way, I suppose he <em>is</em> the man your fellow +saw?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Everything tallies, Mr Carlyle—length of immersion, +place, and so on. Our man thinks he is the same, +but you may remember that he didn’t claim to be very +positive on this point.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>There seemed nothing else to be learned and Mr Carlyle +took his departure. His acquaintance had also +finished and their ways lay together as far as Trafalgar +Square. Before they parted the inspector had promised +<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>to communicate with Mr Carlyle as soon as the dead +man was identified.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And if he has a room anywhere he probably will be, +with all this talk about Miss Roscastle. Then we may +find something there that will help us,” he predicted. +“If he is purely casual the chances are we shall never +hear.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>His experience was justified and he kept his promise. +Two days later Carlyle heard that the unknown had +been identified as the occupant of a single room in a +Lambeth lodging-house. He had only occupied it for a +few weeks and he was known there as Mr Hay. Tenement +gossip described him as a foreigner and credited +him with having seen better days—an easy enough surmise +in the circumstances. Mr Carlyle had been on the +point of turning his attention to a Monte Carlo Miss +Roscastle when this information reached him. He set +off at once for Lambeth, but at Tubb’s Grove disappointment +met him at the door. The landlady of the +ramshackle establishment—a female with a fluent if +rather monotonous delivery—was still smarting from +the unappreciated honour of the police officials’ visit +and the fierce light of publicity that it had thrown upon +her house. All Mr Carlyle’s bland cajolery was futile +and in the end he had to disburse a sum that bore an +appreciable relation to a week’s rent before he was +allowed to inspect the room and to command conversation +that was not purely argumentative.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Then the barrenness of the land was revealed. Mr +Hay had been irregular with his rent at the best, and +when he disappeared he was a week in arrears. After +two days’ absence, with the easy casuistry of her circumstances, +the lady had decided that he was not returning +and had proceeded to “do out” the room for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>the next tenant. The lodger’s “few things” she had +bundled together into a cupboard, whence they had been +retrieved by the police, in spite of her indignant protest. +But the lodger’s “papers and such-like rubbish” she +confessed to burning, to get them out of the way. Mr +Carlyle spent a profitless half-hour and then returned, +calling at Scotland Yard on his way back. His friend +the inspector shook his head; there was nothing among +the seized property that afforded any clue.</p> + +<p class='c011'>It was at this point that Mr Carlyle’s ingenuous mind +suggested looking up Carrados, whom he had not seen +since the visit to the theatre.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Max was interested in this case from the first; I am +sure he will be expecting to hear from me about it,” was +the form in which the proposal conveyed itself to him. +The same evening he ran down to Richmond for an +hour, after ascertaining that his friend was at home and +disengaged.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You might have brought Enniscorthy with you,” +remarked Carrados when the subject had been started. +“Nice, genuine young fellow. Evidently deeply in love +with the girl, but he is young enough to take the attack +safely. What have you told him?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He is back in Ireland just now—got an idea that +he might learn something from some people there, and +rushed off. What I have told him—well”—experience +endowed Mr Carlyle with sudden caution—“what +would you have told him, Max?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados smiled at the innocent guile of the invitation.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“To answer that I should have to know just what +you know,” he replied. “I suppose you have gone into +this Embankment development?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes.” He had come intending to make some show +<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>of his progress and to sound Carrados discreetly, but +once again in the familiar room and under the sway +of the clear-visioned blind man’s virile personality he +suddenly found himself submitting quite naturally to +the suave, dominating influence. “Yes; but I must +confess, Max, that I am unable to explain much of that +incident. It suggests blackmail at the bottom, and if +the plain-clothes man was correct and saw Miss Roscastle +there last Thursday——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It was blackmail; but the plain-clothes man was not +correct, though he had every excuse for making the mistake. +There is one quiet, retiring personage in this +drama who has been signally overlooked in all the +clamour.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You mean——?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I suggest that if Miss Linknorth had been subpœnaed +for the inquest and asked to account for her +movements after leaving the theatre on Thursday last +it might have turned public speculation into another +channel—though probably a wrong one.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Miss Linknorth!” The idea certainly turned Mr +Carlyle’s thoughts into a new channel.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Has it occurred to you what an extraordinary act +of self-effacement it must have been on the part of this +young unknown actress to allow her well-earned success +to be credited to another? As Enniscorthy reminded +us, ladies of the profession are rather keen on their +chances.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; but Stokesey, you remember, insisted on +keeping it dark.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am not overlooking that. But although it was +to Stokesey’s interest to keep up the fiction, and also to +the interest of everyone else about the theatre—people +who were merely concerned in the run of the piece—it +<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>would have richly paid the Linknorth to have her +identity established while the iron was hot, whatever +the outcome. A paragraph to the Press the next day +would have done it. There wasn’t a hint. I am not +overlooking the fact that Miss Linknorth’s name now +appears on the programme, but that is an unforeseen +development so far as she is concerned, and her golden +opportunity has gone by. With the exception of the +first row of the pit and of the gallery you won’t find +that one per cent. of the house now really knows who +created ‘Mary Ryan’ or regards the Linknorth as +anything but a makeshift.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then what was the incentive?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Suppose it has been made worth Miss Linknorth’s +while? It is not necessarily a crude question of money. +Friendship might make it worth her while, or ambition +in some quarter we have not looked for, or a dozen other +considerations—anything but the box-office of the Argosy +Theatre, which certainly did not make it worth +her while.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, that is feasible enough, Max, but how does it +help us?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you ever have toothache, Louis?” demanded +Carrados inconsequently.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, I am glad to say,” admitted Mr Carlyle. “Have +you got a turn now, old man? Never mind this confounded +‘shop.’ I’ll go and then you can——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not at all,” interposed Carrados, smiling benignly +at his friend’s consideration; “and don’t be too ready +to condemn toothache indiscriminately. I have sometimes +found it very stimulating. The only way to cure +it is to concentrate the mind so terrifically that you forget +the ache. Then it stops. I imagine that a mathematician +could succeed by working out a monumental +<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>problem. I have frequently done it by ‘discovering’ a +hoard of Greek coins of the highest art period on one of +the islands and classifying the find. On Monday night +I thought that I was in for a devil of a time. I at once +set myself to discover a workable theory for everyone’s +conduct in this affair, one, of course, that would stand +the test of every objection based on fact. The correct +hypothesis must, indeed, be strengthened by every new +circumstance that came out. At twelve o’clock, after +two hours’ mental sudation, I began to see light—excuse +the phrase. By this time the toothache had +gone, but I was so taken up with the idea that I called +out Harris and drove to Scotland Yard then and there +on the chance of finding Beedel or one of the others I +know.… Why on earth didn’t you let me have that +‘Fool!’ message, Louis?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My dear fellow,” protested Mr Carlyle, “I can’t +beat up for advice on every day of my life.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“At all events it might have saved me an hour’s +strenuous thinking.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, you know, Max, perhaps that would have left +you in the middle of the toothache. Now the +message——?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The message? Oh, that settled it. You may take +it as assured, Louis, that although Miss Roscastle’s departure +from the theatre was hurried, in order to allow +her to catch the boat-train from Charing Cross, she had +enough time to think out the situation and to secure +Miss Linknorth’s allegiance. Whether Stokesey knows +any more than he admits, we need not inquire. The +great thing is that Miss Roscastle had some reason—some +fairly strong reason—for not wanting her absence +from the cast to become public. We agreed, Louis, +that a better engagement would alone satisfactorily +<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>explain her defection. What better engagement would +you suggest—it could scarcely be a theatrical one?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A brilliant marriage?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Our minds positively ident, Louis. ‘A brilliant marriage’—my +exact expression. One, moreover, that suddenly +becomes possible and cannot be delayed. One—here +we are on difficult ground—one that may be +jeopardised if at that early stage Miss Roscastle’s identity +in it comes to light, or if, possibly, her absence from +London is discovered. That sign-post,” said Carrados, +with his unseeing eyes fixed on the lengthening vistas +that rose before his mind, “points in a good many directions.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The blackmailer?” hazarded Carlyle.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I gave a good deal of attention to every phase of +that gentleman’s presence,” replied Carrados. “It +corroborates, but it does not entirely explain. I would +say that he merely intervened. In my view, Miss Roscastle +would have acted precisely as she did if there had +been no Mr Hay. At all events he <em>did</em> intervene and +had to be dealt with.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It had occurred to me, Max, whether it was Miss +Linknorth’s job to impersonate the other?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It may have been originally. If so, it failed, for +Hay proceeded with his demand. His price was five +hundred pounds in English or French gold—an interesting +phase of your ordinary blackmailer’s antipathy +to paper—merely an <span lang="fr"><i>hors d’œuvre</i></span> to the solid things to +come, of course. But he was not dealing with a fool. +Whether Miss Roscastle frankly had not five hundred +pounds just then, or whether she was better advised, we +cannot say. She temporised, the Linknorth being the +intermediary. Then the dummy pieces? Hay <em>was</em> a +menace and had to be held off. At one point there may +<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>well have been the pretence of handing over the cash +and then at the last moment some specious difficulty, +necessitating a short delay, is raised. That would account +for the otherwise unnecessary detail of the lead +counterfeits, for there is no need of them on Thursday. +Then, when the danger is past, when the tricked scoundrel +has lost his sting, <em>then</em> there is no attempt at evasion +or compromise. ‘Fool! What does it matter now?’ +is the contemptuously unguarded message and the five +hundred doits are pressed upon him to complete his +humiliation. Why doesn’t it matter, Louis? Is there +any other answer than that Miss Roscastle is safely +married?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It certainly looks like it,” agreed Mr Carlyle. “But +if there was anything so serious as to have compromised +the marriage, surely Hay could still have held it over +her, as against her husband?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If it was as against the husband before—yes, perhaps. +But suppose the chink in the armour was the +good grace of some third person whose consent was +necessary? This brilliant marriage.… Well, I don’t +commit myself any further. At any rate, in the lady’s +estimation she is safe, and if she had deliberately sought +to goad Hay into suicide she couldn’t have done better. +He read the single line that shattered his greedy dreams +and its disdainful triumph struck him like a whip. He +had spent literally his last penny on pressing his +unworthy persecution, and now he stood, beggared and +beaten, on the Embankment at midnight—‘he, a +gentleman.’ … It doesn’t matter how he took it. +He went over, and the muddy waters of the Thames +closed over the last page of his rotten history.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Max!” exclaimed Mr Carlyle with feeling. “Remember +the poor beggar, with all his failings, is dead +<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>now. Not that I should mind,” he added cheerfully, +“but I saw him afterwards, you know. Enniscorthy +had the sense to keep away. And, by Gad! Max, that +reminds me that this is rather rough on my confiding +young client—running up a bill to have a successful +rival sprung upon his hopes. Have you any idea who +he is?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” admitted Carrados, “I have an idea, but to-day +it is nothing more than that. When does Enniscorthy +return?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He ought to be back in London on Friday morning.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“By then I should know something definite. If you +will make an appointment with him for Friday at half-past +eleven I will look in on my way through town.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Certainly, Max, certainly.” There was a note of +faithful expectation in Mr Carlyle’s voice that caused +his friend to smile. He crossed the room to his most-used +desk and opened one of the smaller drawers.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“For this simple demonstration, Louis, I require +only two appliances, neither of which, as you will see, is +a rabbit or a handkerchief. In other and saner words, +there are only two exhibits. That is from <cite>The Morning +Mail</cite>; this is from the Westminster street refuse tip.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This” was a small brown canvas bag. Traces of +red sealing-wax still marked the neck and across it were +stamped the words:</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>BANQUE DE L’UNION</div> + <div>CLAIRVAUX</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>Mr Carlyle looked inside. It was empty, but a few +specks of dull grey metal still lodged among the cloth. +He turned to the other object, as Carrados had indicated +<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>an extract from the daily Press. It was a mere +slip of paper and consisted of the following paragraph:</p> + +<p class='c013'>“From Clairvaux, in the Pas de Calais, France, where +he purchased a country estate when he was driven into +exile, it is reported that ex-King Constantine of Villalyia +has been lying dangerously ill for the past week.”</p> + +<p class='c015'>“Quite so, quite so,” murmured Carlyle, quietly +turning over the cutting to satisfy himself that he was +reading the right side.</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>“I see that you haven’t anything very hopeful to +report,” said Mr Enniscorthy—he and Max Carrados +had entered Mr Carlyle’s office within a minute of each +other two days later—“but let me have it out.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It isn’t quite a matter of being hopeful or the reverse,” +replied the blind man. “It is merely final to +your ambition. You know Prince Ulric of Villalyia?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have been presented. He hunted in Ireland last +season.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He knew Miss Roscastle?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“They were acquainted, she has told me.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It went deeper than you imagined. Miss Roscastle +is Princess Ulric of Villalyia to-day.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Una! Oh,” cried Enniscorthy, “but—but that is +impossible! You don’t mean that she——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I mean exactly what I say. They were married +within a week of her disappearance from London.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Enniscorthy’s pained gaze went from face to face. +The fatal presentiment that had always just robbed him +of the heroic—the fear that he might be making an ass +of himself—again assailed him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But isn’t Ulric in the line of succession? They +<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>couldn’t be really married without the king’s consent. +Of course Villalyia is a republic now, but——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But it may not be to-morrow if the expected war +breaks out? Quite true, Mr Enniscorthy. And in the +meanwhile the forms and ceremonies are maintained at +the exile Court of Clairvaux. Yet the king gave his +consent.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Gave his consent! For his son to marry an +actress?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah, there was a little sleight of hand there. He +only knew Miss Roscastle as Miss Eileen O’Rourke, the +last representative of a line of Irish kings. She was a +Miss O’Rourke?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes. Roscastle was only her stage name. The +O’Rourkes were a very old but impoverished family.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Royal, we may assume. This business was the outcome +of one of the interminable domestic squabbles that +the Villalyia Petrosteins seemed to wage in order to +supply the Continental comic papers with material. +Ex-King Constantine recently quarrelled simultaneously +and irrevocably with his eldest son Robert and his +first cousin Michael. Robert, who lives in Paris, has +respectably married a robust minor princess who has +presented him with six unattractive daughters and +now, by all report, stopped finally. Hating both son +and cousin almost equally, old Constantine, who had +fumed himself into a fever, sent off for his other son, +Ulric, and demanded that he should at once marry and +found a prolific line of sons to embitter Robert and cut +out the posterity of Michael. Prince Ulric merely replied +that there was only one woman whom he wished to +marry and she was not of sufficiently exalted station, +and as she refused to marry him morganatically—yes, +Mr Enniscorthy—there was no prospect of his ever +<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>marrying at all. The king suddenly found that he +was very ill. Ulric was obdurate. The constitution +allowed the reigning monarch to sanction such an alliance, +provided there were no religious difficulties, and I +understand that Miss Roscastle is a Catholic. Constantine +recognised that if he was to gratify his whim he +must consent, and that at once, as he was certainly +dying. As things were, Ulric would probably renounce +and marry ignominiously or die unmarried and the +hated Michaels would step in, for, once king, the conventional +Robert would never give his consent to such +an alliance. Besides, it would be a ‘damned slap in +the face’ to half the remaining royalty of Europe, and +Constantine had always posed as a democratic sovereign—that +was why his people ran him out. He coughed +himself faint and then commanded the lady to be sent +for.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If only Una had confided in me I would—yes, I +would willingly have flown to serve her.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I think that Miss Roscastle was well qualified to +serve herself,” responded Carrados dryly. “Now you +can put together the whole story, Mr Enniscorthy. +Many pages of it are necessarily obscure. What the +man Hay knew and threatened—whether it was with +him in view or the emissaries of the hostile Robert and +Michael that she took the sudden chance of concealing +her absence and cloaking her identity—what other +wheels there were, what other influences at work—these +are only superfluities. The essential thing is that, in +spite of cross-currents, everything went well—for her, +and perhaps for you; the lady’s married and there’s an +end of it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I hope that she will be as happy as I should have +tried to make her,” said Enniscorthy rather shakily. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>“I shall always think of her. Mr Carrados, I will write +to thank you when I am better able to express myself. +Mr Carlyle, you know my address. Good-morning.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A very manly way of taking it and very properly +expressed—very well indeed,” <a id='tn-mrcarlyle'></a>declared Mr Carlyle +with warm approval as the door closed. “Max, that is +the outcome of good blood—blood and breeding.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nonsense, you romantic old humbug,” said Carrados +with affectionate contempt. “I have heard exactly the +same words in similar circumstances once before and +they were spoken by a Canning Town bricklayer’s +labourer.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>One incident only remains to be added. A month +later Mr Carlyle was passing the Kemble Club when he +became conscious of someone trying to avoid him. +With a not unnatural impulse he made for his acquaintance +and insisted on being recognised.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah, Mr Stokesey,” he exclaimed, “<cite>Call a Spade——</cite> is +still going strong, I see.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Carlyle, to be sure,” said the manager. “Bother +me if I didn’t mistake you for a deadhead who always +strikes me for a pass. Good heavens! yes; they come +in droves and companies to see the part that the romantic +Princess Ulric of Villalyia didn’t create! I’ve had +three summonses for my pit queue. Didn’t I tell you +it was a gamble? When I have to find a successor—<em>when</em>, +mind, I say—I’m going to put on <cite>You Never Can +Tell</cite>! What?”</p> + +</div> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span></div> +<div class='chapter' id='chapter-7'> + +<div> + <h2 class='c006'>VII<br> <br>The Ingenious Mr Spinola</h2> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_15_0_65 c010'><a id='tn-troubled'></a><span class="uppercase">“You</span> seem troubled, Parkinson. Have you been +reading the Money Article again?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson, who had been lingering a little +aimlessly about the room, exhibited symptoms of embarrassed +guilt. Since an unfortunate day, when it had +been convincingly shown to the excellent fellow that to +leave his accumulated savings on deposit at the bank +was merely an uninviting mode of throwing money +away, it is not too much to say that his few hundreds +had led Parkinson a sorry life. Inspired by a natural +patriotism and an appreciation of the advantage of 4½ +over 1¼ per cent., he had at once invested in consols. +A very short time later a terrible line in a financial daily—“Consols +weak”—caught his agitated eye. Consols +were precipitately abandoned and a “sound industrial” +took their place. Then came the rumours of an impending +strike and the Conservative press voiced gloomy +forebodings for the future of industrial capital. An +urgent selling order, bearing Mr Parkinson’s signature, +was the immediate outcome.</p> + +<p class='c011'>In the next twelve months Parkinson’s few hundreds +wandered through many lands and in a modest way +went to support monarchies and republics, to carry +on municipal enterprise and to spread the benefits of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>commerce. And, through all, they contrived to exist. +They even assisted in establishing a rubber plantation +in Madagascar and exploiting an oil discovery in Peru +and yet survived. If everything could have been lost +by one dire reverse Parkinson would have been content—even +relieved; but with her proverbial inconsequence +Fortune began by smiling and continued to smile—faintly, +it is true, but appreciably—on her timorous +votary. In spite of his profound ignorance of finance +each of Parkinson’s qualms and tremors resulted in +a slight pecuniary margin to his credit. At the end of +twelve months he had drawn a respectable interest, was +somewhat to the good in capital, and as a waste product +had acquired an abiding reputation among a small +but choice coterie as a very “knowing one.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Thank you, sir, but I am sorry if I seemed engrossed +in my own affairs,” he apologised in answer to Mr +Carrados’s inquiry. “As a matter of fact,” he added, +“I hoped that I had finished with Stock Exchange +transactions for the future.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah, to be sure,” assented Carrados. “A block of +cottages Acton way, wasn’t it to be?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I did at one time consider the investment, but on +reflection I decided against property of that description. +The association with houses occupied by the artisan +class would not have been congenial, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Still, it might have been profitable.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Possibly, sir. I have, however, taken up a mortgage +on a detached house standing in its own grounds +at Highgate. It was strongly recommended by your +own estate agents—by Mr Lethbridge himself, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I hope it will prove satisfactory, Parkinson.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I hope so, sir, but I do not feel altogether reassured +now, after seeing it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>“After seeing it? But you saw it before you took it +up, surely?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“As a matter of fact, no, sir. It was pointed out to +me that the security was ample, and as I had no practical +knowledge of house-valuing there was nothing to be +gained by inspecting it. At the same time I was given +the opportunity, I must admit; but as we were rather +busy then—it was just before we went to Rome, sir—I +never went there.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, after all,” admitted Carrados, “I hold a fair +number of mortgage securities on railways and other +property that I have never been within a thousand miles +of. I am not in a position to criticise you, Parkinson. +And this house—I suppose that it does really exist?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh yes, sir. I spent yesterday afternoon in the +neighbourhood. Now that the trees are out there is +not a great deal that can be actually seen from the road, +but I satisfied myself that in the winter the house must +be distinctly visible from several points.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is very satisfactory,” said Carrados with equal +seriousness. “But, after all, the title is the chief thing.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“So I am given to understand. Doubtless it would +not be sound business, sir, but I think that if the title +had been a little worse, and the appearance of the +grounds a little better, I should have felt more secure. +But what really concerned me is that the house is being +talked about.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Talked about?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes. It is in a secluded position, but there are some +old-fashioned cottages near and these people notice +things, sir. It is not difficult to induce them to talk. +Refreshments are procurable at one of the cottages and +I had tea there. I have since thought, from a remark +made to me on leaving, that the idea may have got +<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>about that I was connected with the Scotland Yard +authorities. I had no apprehension at the time of creating +such an impression, sir, but I wished to make a +few casual inquiries.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados nodded. “Quite so,” he murmured encouragingly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It was then that I discovered what I have alluded +to. These people, having become suspicious, watch all +that is to be seen at Strathblane Lodge—as it is called—and +talk. They do not know what goes on there.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That must be very disheartening for them.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, sir, they find it trying. Up to less than a year +ago the house was occupied by a commercial gentleman +and everything was quite regular. But with the new +people they don’t know which are the family and who +are the servants. Two or three men having the appearance +of mechanics seem to be there continually, and +sometimes, generally in the evening, there are visitors +of a class whom one would not associate with the unpretentious +nature of the establishment. Gentlemen +for the most part, but occasionally ladies, I was told, +coming in taxis or private motor cars and generally in +evening dress.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That ought to reassure these neighbours—the private +cars and evening dress.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I cannot say that it does, sir. And what I heard +made me a little nervous also.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Something was evidently on the ingenuous creature’s +mind. The blind man’s face wore a faintly amused +smile, but he gauged the real measure of his servant’s +apprehension.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nervous of what, Parkinson?” he inquired kindly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Some thought that it might be a gambling-house, +but others said it looked as if a worse business was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>carried on there. I should not like there to be any +scandal or exposure, sir, and perhaps the mortgage forfeited +in consequence.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But, good heavens, man! you don’t imagine that a +mortgage is like a public-house licence, to be revoked in +consequence of a rowdy tenant, surely?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson’s dubious silence made it increasingly plain +that he had, indeed, associated his security with some +such contingency, a conviction based, it appeared, when +he admitted his fears, on a settled belief in the predatory +intentions of a Government with whom he was not +in sympathy.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Don’t give the thing another thought,” counselled +his employer. “If Lethbridge recommended the investment +you may be sure that it is all right. As for +what goes on there—that doesn’t matter two straws to +you, and in any case it is probably idle chatter.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Thank you, sir. It is a relief to have your assurance. +I see now that I ought to have paid no attention +to such conversation, but being anxious—and seeing Sir +Fergus Copling go there——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Sir Fergus Copling? You saw him there?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir. I thought that I remembered a car that +was waiting for the gate to be opened. Then I recognised +Sir Fergus: it was the small dark blue car that he +has come here in. And just after what I had been +hearing——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But Sir Fergus Copling! He’s a testimonial of +propriety. Do you know what you are talking about, +Parkinson?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The excellent man looked even more deeply troubled +than he had been about his money.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not in that sense, sir,” he protested. “I only +understood that he was a gentleman of position and a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>very large income, and after just listening to what was +being said——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados’s scepticism was intelligible. Copling was +the last man to be associated with a scandal of fast life. +He had come into his baronetcy quite unexpectedly a +few years previously while engaged in the drab but +apparently congenial business of teaching arithmetic at +a public school. The chief advantage of the change of +fortune, as it appeared to the recipient, was that it enabled +him to transfer his attention from the lower to +the higher mathematics. Without going out of his way +to flout the conventions, he set himself a comparatively +simple standard of living. He was too old and fixed, +he said, to change much—forty and a bachelor—and +the most optimistic spinster in town had reluctantly +come to acquiesce.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados had not forgotten this conversation when +next he encountered Sir Fergus a week or so later. He +knew the man well enough to be able to lead up to the +subject and when an identifiable footstep fell on his ear +in the hall of the Metaphysical (the dullest club in +Europe, it was generally admitted) he called across to +the baronet, who, as a matter of fact, had been too +abstracted to notice him or anyone else.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You aren’t a member, are you?” asked Copling +when they had shaken hands. “I didn’t know that +you went in for this sort of thing.” The motion of his +head indicated the monumental library which he had +just quitted, but it might possibly be taken as indicating +<a id='tn-profound'></a>the general atmosphere of profound somnolence that +enveloped the Metaphysical.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am not a member,” admitted Carrados. “I only +came to gather some material.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Statistics?” queried Copling with interest. “We +<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>have a very useful range of works.” He suddenly remembered +his acquaintance’s affliction. “By the way, +can I be of any use to you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, if you will,” said Carrados. “Let me go to +lunch with you. There is an appalling bore hanging +about and he’ll nab me if I don’t get past under protection.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Copling assented readily enough and took the blind +man’s arm.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Where, though?” he asked at the door. “I generally”—he +hesitated, with a shy laugh—“I generally +go to an A.B.C. tea-shop myself. It doesn’t waste so +much time. But, of course——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Of course, a tea-shop by all means,” assented +Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You are sure that you don’t mind?” persisted the +baronet anxiously.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mind? Why, I’m a shareholder!” chuckled +Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This suits me very well,” remarked the ex-schoolmaster +when they were seated in a remote corner of a +seething general room. “Fellows used to do their best +to get me into the way of going to swell places, but I +always seem to drift back here. I don’t mind the prices, +Carrados, but hang me if I like to pay the prices simply +to be inconvenienced. Yes, <em>hot</em> milk, please.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados endorsed this reasonable philosophy. Carlton +or Coffee-house, the Ritz or the tea-shop, it was +all the same to him—life, and very enjoyable life at +that. He sat and, like the spider, drew from within +himself the fabric of the universe by which he was surrounded. +In that inexhaustible faculty he found perfect +content: he never required “to be amused.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, not statistics,” he said presently, returning to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>the unfinished conversation of the club hall. “Scarcely +that. More in the nature of topography, perhaps. +Have you considered, Copling, how everything is +specialised nowadays? Does anyone read the old-fashioned, +unpretentious <cite>Guide-book to London</cite> still? +One would hardly think so to see how the subject is +cut up. We have ‘Famous London Blind-alleys,’ ‘Historical +West-Central Door-Knockers,’ ‘Footsteps of Dr +Johnson between Gough Square and John Street, +Adelphi,’ ‘The Thames from Hungerford Bridge to +Charing Cross Pier,’ ‘Oxford Street Paving Stones on +which De Quincey sat,’ and so on.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“They are not familiar to me,” said Sir Fergus +simply.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nor to me; yet they sound familiar. Well, I +touched journalism myself once, years ago. What do +you say to ‘Mysterious Double-fronted Houses of the +outer Northern Suburbs’? Too comprehensive?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t know. The subject must be limited. But +do you seriously contemplate such a work?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If I did,” replied Carrados, “what could you tell +me about Strathblane Lodge, Highgate?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh!” A slow smile broke on Copling’s face. +“That is rather extraordinary, isn’t it? Do you know +old Spinola? Have you been there?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“So far I don’t know the venerable Mr Spinola and I +have not been there. What is the peculiarity?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But you know of the automatic card-player?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The words brought a certain amount of enlightenment. +Carrados had heard more than once casual allusions +to a wonderful mechanical contrivance that played +cards with discrimination. He had not thought anything +more of it, classing it with Kempelen’s famous +imposture which had for a time mystified and duped +<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>the chess world more than a century ago. So far, also, +some reticence appeared to be observed about the +modern contrivance, as though its inventor had no +desire to have it turned into a popular show: at all +events not a word about it had appeared in the Press.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have heard something, but not much, and I certainly +have not seen it. What is it—a fraud, surely?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Copling replied with measured consideration between +the process of investigating his lightly boiled egg. It +was plain that the automaton had impressed him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I naturally approached the subject with scepticism,” +he admitted, “but at the end of several demonstrations +I am converted to a position of passive +acquiescence. Spinola, at all events, is no charlatan. +His knowledge of mathematics is profound. As you +know, Carrados, the subject is my own and I am not +likely to be imposed on in that particular. It was purely +the scientific aspect of the invention that attracted me, +for I am not a gambler in the ordinary sense. Spinola’s +explanation of the principles of the contrivance, when +he found that I was capable of following them, was lucid +and convincing. Of course he does not disclose all the +details of the mechanism, but he shows enough.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is a gamble, then, not a mere demonstration?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He has spent many years on the automaton, and it +must have cost thousands of pounds in experiment and +construction. He makes no secret of hoping to reimburse +his outlay.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What do you play?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Piquet—rubicon piquet. The figure could, he +claims, be set to play any game by changing or elaborating +the mechanism. He had to construct it for one +definite set of chances and he selected piquet as a +suitable medium.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>“It wins?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Against me invariably in the end.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why should it win, Copling? In a game that is +nine-tenths chance, why should it win?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am an indifferent player. If the tactics of the +game have been reduced to machinery and the combinations +are controlled by a dispassionate automaton, +the one-tenth would constitute a winning factor.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And against expert players?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Sir Fergus admitted that to the best of his knowledge +the figure still had the advantage. In answer to +Carrados’s further inquiry he estimated his losses at +two or three hundred pounds. The stakes were whatever +the visitor suggested—Spinola was something of +a grandee, one inferred—and at half-crown points Sir +Fergus had found the game quite expensive enough.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why do people go if they invariably lose?” asked +the blind man.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My dear fellow, why do they go to Monte Carlo?” +was the retort, accompanied by a tolerant shrug. “Besides, +I don’t positively say that they always lose. One +hears of people winning, though I have never seen it +happen. Then I fancy that the novelty has taken with +a certain set. It is a thing at the moment to go up +there and have the rather bizarre experience. There is +an element of the creep in it, you know—sitting and +playing against that serene and unimpressionable contrivance.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What do the others do? There is quite a company, +I gather.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh yes, sometimes. Occasionally one may find +oneself alone. Well, the others often watch the play. +Sometimes sets play bridge on their own. Then +<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>there is coffee and wine. Nothing formal, I assure +you.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Rowdy ever?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh no. The old man has a presence; I doubt if +anyone would feel encouraged to go too far under +Spinola’s eye. Yet practically nothing seems to be +known of him, not even his nationality. I have heard +half-a-dozen different tales from as many cocksure men—he +is a South American Spaniard ruined by a revolution; +a Jesuit expelled from France through politics; +an Irishman of good family settled in Warsaw, where +he stole the plans from a broken-down Polish inventor; +a Virginia military man, supposed to have a dash of +the negroid, who suddenly found that he was dying +from cancer and is doing this to provide a fortune for +an only and beautiful daughter, and so on.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Is there a beautiful daughter?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not that I have ever seen. No, the man just +cropped up, as odd people do in great capitals. Nobody +really knows anything about him, but his queer +salon has caught on to a certain extent.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Now any novel phase of life attracted Carrados. The +mixed company that Spinola’s enterprise was able to +draw to an out-of-the-way suburb—the peculiar blend +of science and society—was not much in itself. The +various constituents could be met elsewhere to more +advantage, but the assemblage might engender +piquancy. And the man himself and his machine? In +any case they should repay attention.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“How does one procure the entrée?” he inquired.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Copling raised a quizzical eyebrow.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You also?” he replied. “Oh, I see; you think——Well, +if you are going to discover any sleight-of-hand +about the business I don’t mind——”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>“Yes?” prompted Carrados, for Sir Fergus had pulled +up on an obvious afterthought.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I did not intend going up again,” said Copling +slowly. “As a matter of fact, I have seen all that interests +me. And—I suppose I may as well tell you, +Carrados—I made someone a sort of promise to have +nothing to do with gambling. She feels very strongly +on the subject.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“She is very wise,” commented the blind man.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Elation mingled with something faintly apologetic in +the abrupt bestowal of the baronet’s unexpected confidence.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It was really quite a sudden and romantic happening,” +he continued, led on by the imperceptible encouragement +of his companion’s attitude. “She is called +Mercia. She does not know who I am—not that that’s +anything,” he added modestly. “She is an orphan and +earns her own living. I was able to be of some slight +service to her in the science galleries at South Kensington, +where she was collecting material for her employer. +Then we met there again and had lunch +together, and so on.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“At tea-shops?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh yes. Her tastes are very simple. She doesn’t +like shows and society and all that.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I congratulate you. When is it to be?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It? Oh! Well, we haven’t settled anything like +that yet. Of course this is all in confidence, Carrados.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Absolutely—though the lady has done me rather +an ill turn.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“How?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, weren’t you going to introduce me to Mr +Spinola?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“True,” assented Sir Fergus. “And I don’t see why +<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>I shouldn’t,” he added valiantly. “I need not play, +and if there is any bunkum about the thing I should +certainly like to see how it is done. What evening will +suit you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>An early date had suited both, and shortly after +eight o’clock—an hour at which they were likely to find +few guests before them—<a id='tn-strathblane'></a>Carrados’s car drew up at +Strathblane Lodge. By arrangement he had picked up +Copling, who lived—“of all places in the world,” as +people had said when they heard of it—in an unknown +street near Euston. Parkinson, out of regard for the +worthy man’s feelings, had been left behind on the occasion +and in ignorance of his master’s destination.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The appearance of the place was certainly not calculated +to reassure a nervous investor. The entirely +neglected garden seemed to convey a hint that the +tenant might be contemplating a short occupation and +a hasty flight. Nor did the exterior of the house do +much to remove the unfortunate impression. Only a +philosopher or an habitual defaulter would live in such +a state.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The venerable Mr Spinola received them in the salon +set apart for the display of the automaton and for cards +in general. It was a room of fair proportions—doubtless +the largest in the house—and quite passably furnished, +though in a rather odd and incongruous style. +But probably any furniture on earth would have +seemed incongruous to the strange, idol-like presence +which the inventor had thought fit to adapt to the +uses of his mechanism. The figure was placed on a +low pedestal, sufficiently raised from the carpet on four +plain wooden legs for all the space underneath to be +clearly visible. The body was a squat, cross-legged +conception, typical of an Indian deity, the head singularly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>life-like through the heavy gilding with which the +face was covered, and behind the merely contemplative +expression that dominated the golden mask the carver +had by chance or intention lined a faint suggestion of +cynical contempt.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You have come to see my little figure—Aurelius, as +we call him among ourselves?” said the bland old +gentleman benignly. “That is right; that is right.” +He shook hands with them both, and received Mr +Carrados, on Sir Fergus’s introduction, as though he +was a very dear friend from whom he had long been +parted. It was difficult indeed for Max to disengage +himself from the effusive Spinola’s affection without a +wrench.</p> + +<p class='c011'><a id='tn-mrspinola'></a>“Mr Carrados happens to be blind, Mr Spinola,” +interposed Copling, seeing that their host was so far in +ignorance of the fact.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Impossible! Impossible!” exclaimed Spinola, riveting +his own very bright eyes on his guest’s insentient +ones. “Yet,” he added, “one would not jest——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is quite true,” was the matter-of-fact corroboration. +“My hands must be my eyes, Mr Spinola. In +place of seeing, will you permit me to touch your +wonderful creation?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The old man’s assent was immediate and cordial. +They moved across the room towards the figure, the +inventor modestly protesting:</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You flatter me, my dear sir. After all, it is but a +toy in large; nothing but a toy.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>A weary-looking youth, the only other occupant of +the room, threw down the illustrated weekly that he +had picked up on the new arrivals’ entrance and detained +Copling.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, I had been toying a little before you arrived,” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>he remarked flippantly. “I came early to cut Dora +Lascelle off from the idle crowd and the silly little +rabbit isn’t coming, it appears. I didn’t want to play, +because, for a fact, I have no money, but the old thing +bored me to hysterics. Good God! how he can talk so +little on anything really entertaining, like <cite>The Giddy +Flappers</cite> or Trixie Fluff’s divorce, and so much about +strange, unearthly things that no other living creature +has ever seen even in a dream, baffles my imagination. +What’s an ‘integral calculus,’ Copling? No, don’t tell +me, after all. Let me forget the benumbing episode as +soon as possible.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you wish for a game, Sir Fergus?” broke in +Spinola’s soft voice from across the room. “Doubtless +Mr Carrados might like to follow someone else’s +play before he makes the experiment.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Copling hesitated. He had not come to play, as he +had already told his friend, but Max gave no sign of +coming to his assistance.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Perhaps you, Crediton?” said the mathematician; +but young Crediton shook his head and smiled wisely: +Copling was too easy-going to stand out. He crossed +the room and sat down at the automaton’s table.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And the stake?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Suppose we merely have a guinea on the game?” +suggested the visitor.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Spinola acquiesced with the air of one to whom a +three-penny bit or a kingdom would have been equally +indifferent. The deal fell to Copling and the automaton +therefore had the first “elder hand,” with the +advantage of a discard of five cards against its opponent’s +three.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados had already been shown the theory of the +contrivance. He now followed Spinola’s operations +<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>as the game proceeded. The old man picked up the +twelve cards dealt to the automaton and carefully arranged +them in their proper places on a square shield +that was connected with the front of the figure. As +each fell into its slot it registered its presence on the +delicate mechanism that the figure contained.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The discard,” remarked Spinola, and moved a small +lever. The left hand of the automaton was raised, came +over the shield which hid its cards from the opponent, +touched one with an extended finger, and affixing it by +suction, lifted the selected card from the slot and +dropped it face downwards on the table.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A little slow, a little cumbersome,” apologised the +inventor as the motions were repeated until five cards +had been thrown out. “The left hand is used for the +discard alone, as a different movement is necessary.” +He picked up the five new cards from the stock and +arranged them as he had done the hand. “Now we +proceed to the play.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Crediton strolled across to watch the game. He +stood behind Copling, while Carrados remained near +the automaton. Spinola opened the movements.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Aurelius has no voice, of course,” he said, studying +the display of cards, “so I—point of five.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good,” conceded the opponent.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Spinola registered the detail on one of an elaborate +set of dials that produced a further development in the +machinery.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Spades,” he announced, declaring the suit that he +had won the “point” on. “Tierce major.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Quart to the queen—hearts,” claimed Copling, and +Spinola moved another dial to register the opponent’s +advantage.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Three kings.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>“Good,” was the reply.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Three tens,” added the senior player, as his three +kings, being good against the other hand, enabled him +to count the lower trio also. “Five for the point and +two trios—eleven.” Every detail of the scoring and of +the ensuing play was registered as the other things had +been.</p> + +<p class='c011'>This finished the preliminaries and the play of the +hands began. The automaton, in response to the release +of the machinery, moved its right arm with the +same deliberation that had marked its former action +and laid a card face upwards on the table. For the +blind man’s benefit each card was named as it was +played. At the end of the hand Copling had won “the +cards”—a matter of ten extra points—with seven tricks +to five and the score stood to his advantage at 27—17.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not bad for the junior hand,” commented Crediton. +“Do you know”—he addressed the inventor—“there +is a sort of ‘average,’ as they call it, that you are supposed +to play up to? I forget how it goes, but 27 is +jolly high for the minor hand, I know.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have heard of it,” replied Spinola politely. Crediton +could not make out why the other two men smiled +broadly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The succeeding hands developed no particular points +of interest. The scoring ruled low and in the end Copling +won by 129 to 87. Spinola purred congratulation.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am always delighted to see Aurelius lose,” he declared, +paying out his guinea with a princely air.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why?” demanded Crediton.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Because it shows that I have succeeded beyond +expectation, my dear young sir: I have made him +almost human. Now, Mr Carrados——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“With pleasure,” assented the blind man. “Though I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>am afraid that I shall not afford you the delight of +losing, Mr Spinola.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“One never knows, one never knows,” beamed the +old man. “Shall we say——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Half-crown points—for variety?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very good. Ah, our deal.” He dealt the hands +and proceeded to dispose the twelve that fell to the +automaton on the shield. There was a moment of +indecision. “Pray, Mr Carrados, do you not arrange +your cards?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have done so.” He had, in fact, merely spread +out his hand in the usual fan formation and run an +identifying finger once round the upper edges. The +cards remained as they had been dealt, face downwards.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Wonderful! And that enables you to distinguish +them?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The ink and the impression on a plain surface—oh +yes.” He threw out the full discard as he spoke and +took in the upper five of the stock.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You overwhelm us; you accentuate the tiresome +deliberation of poor Aurelius.” Spinola was hovering +about the external fittings of the figure with unusual +fussiness. When at length he released the left hand it +seemed for an almost perceptible moment that the +action hung. Then the arm descended and carried out +the discard.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Point of five,” said Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In spades. Quint major in spades also, tierce to +the knave in clubs, fourteen aces”—<i>i.e.</i> four aces; +“fourteen” in the language of piquet as they score that +number. He did not wait for his opponent to assent +to each count, knowing, after the point had passed, that +the other calls were good against anything that could +<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>possibly be held. “Five, twenty, twenty-three, ninety-seven.” +Having reached thirty before his opponent +scored, and without a card having so far been played, +his score automatically advanced by sixty. That is the +“repique.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“By Jove!” exclaimed Crediton, “that’s the first time +I’ve ever known Aurelius repiqued.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, it has happened,” retorted Spinola almost +testily.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The play of the hand was bound to go in Carrados’s +favour—he held eight certain tricks. He won “the +cards” with two tricks to spare and the round closed at +119—5.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You look like being delighted again, Mr Spinola,” +remarked Crediton a little cruelly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Suppose you make yourself useful by dealing for +me,” interposed Carrados. “Of course,” he reminded +his host, “it does not do for me to handle any cards but +my own.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I had not thought of that,” replied Spinola, looking +at him shrewdly. <a id='tn-mrcarrados'></a>“If you had no conscience you +would be a dangerous opponent, Mr Carrados.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The same might be said of any man,” was the reply. +“That is why it is so satisfactory to play an automaton.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, Aurelius has no conscience, you know,” chimed +in Crediton sapiently. “Mr Spinola couldn’t find room +for it among the wheels.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The second hand was not eventful. Each player had +to be content to make about the “average” which +Crediton had ingenuously discovered. It raised the +scores to 33—130. Two hands followed in the same +prudent spirit; the fifth—Carrados’s “elder”—found +the position 169—67.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Only two this time,” remarked Carrados, taking in.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>“Jupiter!” murmured Crediton. It is unusual for +the senior hand to leave even one of the five cards to +which he is entitled. It indicated an unusually strong +hand. The automaton evidently thought so too. It +availed itself of all the six alternative cards and, as the +play disclosed, completely cut up its own hand to save +the repique by beating Carrados on the point. It won +the point, to find that its opponent only held a low +quart, a tierce and three kings. As a result Carrados +won “the cards” and the score stood 199—79. The +discard was, in fact, an experiment in bluff. Carrados +<em>might</em> have held a quint and fourteen kings for all the +opposing hand disclosed.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What on earth did you do that for?” demanded +Copling. He himself always played an eminently +straightforward game—and generally lost.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’ll bet I know,” put in Crediton. “You are getting +rather close, Mr Spinola—the last hand and you +need twenty-one to save the rubicon.” The “rubicon” +means that instead of the loser’s score being deducted +from the winner’s in arriving at the latter’s total, it is +<em>added</em> to it—a possible difference of nearly 200 points.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We shall see; we shall see,” muttered Spinola with +a little less than his usual suavity.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Whatever concern he had, however, was groundless, +for the game ended tamely enough. Carrados ought +to have won the point and divided tricks, leaving his +opponent a minor quart and a solitary trio—about 15 +on the hand. By a careless discard he threw away both +chances and the final score stood at 205—112. Copling, +who had come to regard his friend’s play as rather excellent, +was silent. Crediton almost shrieked his disapproval +and seizing the cards demonstrated to his +heart’s content.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>“Ninety-three and the hundred for the game—twenty-four +pounds and one half-crown,” said the loser, +counting out notes and coin to the amount. “It has +been an experience for both of us—Aurelius and myself.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And certainly for me,” added Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Look here,” interposed Crediton, “Aurelius seems +off his play. If you don’t mind taking my paper, Mr +Spinola, I should like another go.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“As you please,” assented the old man. “Your undertaking +is, of course——” The gesture suggested +“quite equal to that of the cashier of the Bank of +England.” The venerable person had, in fact, regained +his lofty pecuniary indifference. “The same point?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Right-o,” cheerfully assented the youth.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I will go and think over my shortcomings,” said +Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>He started to cross the room to a seat and ran into a +couch. With a gasp Copling hastened to his assistance. +Then he found his arm detained and heard the whisper.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Sit down with me.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Across the room the play had begun again and with a +little care they could converse without the possibility +of a word being overheard.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What is it?” asked Sir Fergus.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The golden one will win. It is only when the cards +are not exposed that you play on equal terms.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But I won?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Because it is well to lose sometimes and, by choice, +when the stake is low. That witless youth will have to +pay for both of us.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But how—how on earth do you suggest that it is +done?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>“Look round cautiously. What eyes overlook +Crediton’s hand as he sits there?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What eyes? Good gracious! is there anything in +that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What is it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There is a trophy of Japanese arms high up on the +wall. An iron mask surmounts it. It has glass eyes. +I have never seen anything like that before.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Any others round the walls?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There is a stuffed tiger’s head on our right and a +puma’s or something of that sort on the left.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In case a suspicious player asks to have the places +changed or holds his cards awkwardly. Working the +automaton from other positions is probably also arranged +for.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But how can a knowledge of the opponent’s cards +affect the automaton? The dials——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The dials are all bunkum. While you were playing +I took the liberty of altering them and for a whole hand +the dials indicated that you must inevitably be holding +eight clubs and four spades. All the time you were +leading out hearts and diamonds and the automaton +serenely followed suit. The only effective machinery +is that indicating the display of cards on the shield and +controlling the hands, and that is worked by a keyboard +and electric current from the room below. The +watcher behind the mask telephones the opposing hand, +the discard and the take-in. The automaton’s hand has +already been indicated below. You see the enormous +advantage the hidden player has? When he is the +minor hand he knows everything that is to be known +before he discards. When he is the elder he knows +almost everything. By concentrating on one detail he +can practically always balk the pique, the repique and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>the kapot, if it is necessary to play for safety. You remember +what Crediton said—that he had never known +Aurelius repiqued before. The leisurely manipulation +of the dials gives plenty of time. An even ordinary +player in that position can do the rest.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Copling scarcely knew whether to believe or not. It +sounded plausible, but it reflected monstrously.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You speak of a telephone,” he said. “How can +you definitely say that such a thing is being used? +You have never been in the room before and we’ve +scarcely been here an hour. It—it may be awfully +serious, you know.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados smiled.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Can you hear the kitchen door being opened at this +moment or detect the exact aroma of our host’s mocha?” +he demanded.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not in the least,” admitted Copling.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then of course it is hopeless to expect you to pick +up the whisper of a man behind a mask a score of feet +away. How fearfully in the dark you seeing folk +must be!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Can you possibly do that?” Even as he was speaking +the door opened and a servant entered, bringing +coffee and an assortment of viands sufficiently exotic +to maintain the rather Oriental nature of entertainment.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Stroll across and see how the game is going,” suggested +Carrados. “Have a look at Crediton’s discard +and then come back.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Sir Fergus did not quite follow the purpose, but he +nodded and proceeded to comply with his usual amiable +spirit.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It stands at 137 to 75 against Crediton and they +are playing the last hand. Our young friend looks like +losing thirty or forty pounds.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>“And his discard?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh—seven and nine of clubs and the knave of +hearts.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados held out a slip of paper on which he had +already pencilled a few words. The baronet took it, +looked and whistled softly. He had read: “Clubs, +seven, nine. Hearts, knave.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Conjuring?” he interrogated.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Quite as simple—listening.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I suppose I must accept it. What staggers me is +that you can pick out a whisper when the room is full +of other louder sounds. Now if there had been absolute +stillness——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Merely use. There’s nothing more in it than in +seeing a mouse and a mountain, or a candle and the sun, +at the same time. Well, what are we going to do about +it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Copling began to look acutely unhappy.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I suppose we must do something,” he ruminated, +“but I must say that I wish we needn’t. I mean, I +wish we hadn’t dropped on this. You know, Carrados, +whatever is going on, Spinola is no charlatan. He does +understand mathematics.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That makes him all the more dangerous. But I +should like to produce more definite proof before we do +anything.… Does he ever leave us in the room?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have never known it. No, he hovers round his +Aurelius.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Never mind. Ah, the game is finished.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The game was finished and it needed no inquiry to +learn how it had gone. Mr Crediton was handing the +venerable Spinola a memorandum of indebtedness. His +words and attitude did not convey the impression of a +graceful loser.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>“I wish you two men would give me the tip for beating +this purgatorial image,” he grumbled as they came +up. “I thought that he’d struck a losing line after your +experience and this is the result.” He indicated the +spectacle of their amiable host folding up his I.O.U. +preparatory to dropping it carelessly into a letter-rack, +and shrugged his shoulders with keen disgust.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’ll tell you if you like,” suggested Sir Fergus. +“Hold the better cards.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And play them better,” added Carrados. “Good +heavens!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>A very untoward thing had happened. They had all +been standing together round the table, Spinola purring +appreciatively, Crediton fuming his ill-restrained annoyance, +and the other two mildly satirical at his expense. +Carrados held a cup of coffee in his hand. He reached +towards the table with it, seemed to imagine that he +was a full foot nearer than he was, and before anyone +had divined his mistake, cup, saucer and the entire +contents had dropped neatly upon Mr Spinola’s startled +feet, saturating his lower extremities to the skin.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good heavens! What on earth have I done?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Crediton shrieked out his ill-humour in gratified +amusement; Sir Fergus reddened deeply with embarrassment +at his friend’s mishap. Victim and culprit +stood the ordeal best.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My unfortunate defect!” murmured Carrados with +feeling. “How ever can I——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I who have eyes ought to have looked after my +guest better,” replied Spinola with antique courtliness. +He reduced Crediton with a glance of quiet dignity and +declined Carrados’s handkerchief with a reassuring +touch on the blind man’s arm. “No, no, my dear sir, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>if you will excuse me for a few minutes. It is really +nothing, really nothing, I do assure you.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He withdrew from the room to change. Copling +began to prepare a reassuring phrase to meet Carrados’s +self-reproaches when they should break forth again. +But the blind man’s tone had altered; he was no longer +apologetic.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Play them better,” he repeated to Crediton, as if +there had been no interruption, “and play under conditions +that are equal. For instance, it might be worth +while making sure that a Japanese mask does not conceal +a pair of human eyes. If I were a loser I should be +inclined to have a look.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Not until then did it occur to Sir Fergus that his +friend’s clumsiness had been a calculated ruse to force +Spinola to withdraw for a few minutes. Later on he +might be able to admire the simple ingenuity of the +trick, but at that moment he almost hated Carrados for +the cool effrontery with which he had duped all their +feelings.</p> + +<p class='c011'>No such subtleties, however, concerned Crediton. He +stared at the blind man, followed the indication of his +gesture and all at once grasped the significance of the +hint.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“By George, I shouldn’t wonder if you aren’t right!” +he exclaimed. “There are one or two things——” Without +further consideration he rushed a table against +the wall, swung up a chair on to it, and mounting the +structure began to wrench the details of the trophy +from side to side and up and down in his excited efforts +to displace them.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Hurry up,” urged Copling, more nervous than excited. +“He won’t be long.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Hurry up?” Crediton paused, panting from his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>furious efforts, and found time to look down upon his +accomplices. “I don’t think that it’s for us to concern +ourselves, by George!” he retorted. “Spinola had +better hurry up and bolt for it, I should say. There’s +light behind here—a hole through the wall. I believe +the place is a regular swindling hell.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>His eyes went to the group of weapons again and the +sight gave him a new idea.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Aha, what price this?” he cried, and pulling a short +sword out of its sheath he drove it in between mask +and wall and levered the shell away, nails and all. “By +God, if the eyes aren’t a pair of opera-glasses! And +there’s a regular paraphernalia here——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“So,” interrupted a quiet voice behind them, <a id='tn-mrcarrados2'></a>“you +have been too clever for an old man, Mr Carrados?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Spinola had returned unheard and was regarding the +work of detection with the utmost benignness. Copling +looked and felt ridiculously guilty; the blind man +betrayed no emotion at all and both were momentarily +silent. It fell to Crediton to voice retort.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My I.O.U., if you don’t mind, Mr Spinola,” he demanded, +tumbling down from his perch and holding out +an insistent hand.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“With great pleasure,” replied Spinola, picking it +out from the contents of the letter-rack. “Also,” he +continued, referring to the contents of his pocket-book, +while his guest tore up the memorandum into very small +pieces and strewed them about the carpet, “also the +sum of fifty-seven pounds, thirteen shillings which I feel +myself compelled to return to you in spite of your invariable +grace in losing. I have already rung; you will +find the front door waiting open for you, Mr Crediton.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Compelled’ is good,” sneered Crediton. “You +will probably find a train waiting for you at Charing +<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>Cross, Mr Spinola. I advise you to catch it before the +police arrive.” He nodded to the other two men and +departed, to spread the astounding news in the most +interested quarters.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Spinola continued to beam irrepressible benevolence.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You are equally censorious, if more polite than Mr +Crediton in expressing it, eh, my dear young friends?” +he said.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I thought that you were a genuine mathematician—I +vouched for it,” replied Sir Fergus with more regret +than anything else. “And the extent of your achievement +has been to contrive a vulgar imposture—in the +guise of an ingenious inventor to swindle society by a +sham automaton that doesn’t even work.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You thought that—you still think that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What else is there to think? We have seen with +our own eyes.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And”—turning to his other guest—“Mr Carrados, +who does not see?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am waiting to hear,” replied the blind man.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But you, Sir Fergus, you who are also—in an elementary +way—a mathematician, and one with whom I +have conversed freely, you regard me as a common +swindler and think that this—this tawdry piece of +buffoonery that is only designed to appeal to the vapid +craze for novelty of your foolish friends—this is, as you +say, the extent of my achievement?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Copling gave a warning cry and sprang forward, but +it was too late to avert what he saw coming. In his +petulant annoyance at the comparison Spinola had laid +an emphasising hand upon Aurelius and half unconsciously +had given the figure a contemptuous push. It +swayed, seemed to poise for a second, and then toppling +irretrievably forward crashed to the floor with an impact +<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>that snapped the golden head from off its shoulders +and shook the room and the very house itself.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There, there,” muttered the old man, as though he +was doing no more than regretting a broken tea-cup; +“let it lie, let it lie. We have finished our work together, +Aurelius and I. Now let the whole world——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>It would have been too much to expect the remainder +of the mysterious household, whoever its members were, +to ignore the tempestuous course of events taking place +within their midst. The door was opened suddenly and +a young lady, with consternation charged on every feature +of her attractive face, burst into the room. For +the moment her eyes took in only two figures of the +curious group—the aged Spinola and his fallen handiwork.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Granda!” she cried, “whatever’s happened? What +is it all? Oh, are you hurt?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is nothing, nothing at all; a mere contretemps +of no importance,” he reassured her quickly. Then, +with a recurrence of his most grandiloquent manner, he +recalled her to the situation. “Mercia, our guests—Sir +Fergus Copling, Mr Carrados. Sir Fergus, Mr Carrados—Miss +Dugard.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then it <em>is</em> Mercia!” articulated the bewildered baronet. +“Mercia, you here! What does it mean? What +are you doing?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What are you doing, Sir Fergus?” retorted the girl +in cold reproach. “Is this the way you generally keep +your promises? Gambling!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, really,” stammered the abashed gentleman, +“I—I only——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Sir Fergus only played a game for a mere nominal +stake, to demonstrate the working to his friend,” interposed +Spinola with a shrewd glance—a curious blend +<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>of serpentine innocence and dove-like cunning—at the +estranged young people.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And won,” added Sir Fergus <span lang="it"><i>sotto voce</i></span>, as if that +fact condoned his offence.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Won indeed!” flashed out Miss Dugard. “Of course +you won—I let you. Do you think that we wished to +take money from you now?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You—<em>you</em> let me!” muttered Sir Fergus helplessly. +“Good heavens!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am grateful that your consideration also extends +to your friend’s friend,” put in Carrados pleasantly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Miss Dugard smiled darkly at the suavely-given +thrust and showed her pretty little teeth almost as +though she would like to use them.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There, there, that will do, my child,” said the old +man indulgently. “Sir Fergus and Mr Carrados are +entitled to an explanation and they shall have it. The +moment is opportune; the work of a lifetime is complete. +You have seen, Sir Fergus, the sums that +Aurelius—assisted, as we will now admit, by a little +external manipulation—has gathered into our domestic +exchequer. Where have they gone, these hundreds +and thousands that you may estimate? In lavish living +and a costly establishment? Observe this very +ordinary apartment—the best the house possesses. Recall +the grounds through which you entered. Sum up +the simple hospitality of which you have partaken. +In expensive personal tastes and habits? I assure +you, Sir Fergus, that I am a man of the most frugal life; +my granddaughter inherits the propensity. In what, +then? In advancing science, in benefitting humanity, +in furthering human progress. I am going to prove to +you that I have perfected one of the greatest mechanical +inventions of all ages, and I ask you to credit the plain +<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>statement that all my private fortune and all the winnings +that you have seen upon this table—with the exception +of a bare margin for the necessities of life—have +been spent in perfecting it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He paused with a senile air of triumph and seemed +to challenge comment.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But surely,” ventured Copling, “surely on the +strength of this you would have had no difficulty in +obtaining direct financial support. Well, I myself——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Spinola smiled a peculiar smile, shaking his head +sagely.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Take care, my generous young friend, take care. +You may not quite comprehend what you are saying.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Still swayed by his own gentle amusement, the old +man crossed the room to a desk, selected a letter from a +bulky pile and handed it to his guest without a word.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Copling glanced at the heading and signature, then +read the contents and frowned annoyance.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This is from my secretary,” he commented lamely.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is what a secretary is for, is it not—to save his +employer trouble?” insinuated Spinola. “He took me +for a crank or a begging-letter impostor, of course.” +Then came the pathetic whisper. “They <em>all</em> took me +for that.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Sir Fergus folded the letter and handed it back again.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am very sorry,” he said simply.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It was natural, perhaps. Still, something had to +be done. My work was all arrested. I could no longer +pay my two skilled mechanics. Time was pressing. I +am a very old man—I am more than a hundred years +old——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The girl shot a sudden, half-frightened, pleading +glance at her lover, then at Mr Carrados. It checked +<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>the exclamation that would have come from Copling; +the blind man passed the monstrous claim without betraying +astonishment.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“—a very old man and my work was yet incomplete. +So I contrived Aurelius. I could, of course, have perfected +a model that would have done all that has been +claimed for this—mere child’s play to me—but what +would have been the good? Such a mechanical player +would have lost as often as he would have won. Hence +our little subterfuge, a means amply justified by so +glorious an end.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He was smiling happily—the weeks of elaborate deception +were, at the worst, an innocent ruse to him—and +concluded with an emphasising nod to each in turn, +to Mercia, who regarded him with implicit faith and +veneration, to Copling, who at that moment surely had +ample justification for declaring to himself that he was +dashed if he knew what to think, and to Carrados, +whose sightless look agreed to everything and gave +nothing in reply. Then the old man stood up and produced +his keys.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Come, my friends,” he continued; “the moment has +arrived. I am going to show you now what no other +eye has yet been privileged to see. My mechanics +worked on the parts under my instruction, but in ignorance +of the end. Even Mercia—a good girl, a very +clever girl—has never yet passed this door.” He had +led them through the house and brought them to a +brick-built, windowless shed, isolated in the garden at +the back. “I little thought that the first demonstration——But +things have fallen so, things have fallen, and +one never knows. Perhaps it is for the best.” An +iron door had yielded to his patent key. He entered, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>turned on a bunch of electric lights and stood aside. +“Behold!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The room was a workshop, fitted with the highly +finished devices of metal-working and littered with the +scraps and débris of their use. In the middle stood a +more elaborate contrivance—the finished product of +brass and steel—a cube scarcely larger than a packing-case, +but seemingly filled with wheels and rods, relay +upon relay, and row after row, all giving the impression +of exquisite precision in workmanship and astonishing +intricacy of detail.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why, it’s a calculating machine,” exclaimed Sir +Fergus, going forward with immense interest.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is an analytical engine, or, to use the more +common term, a calculating machine, as you say,” +assented the inventor. “I need hardly remind you, of +course, that one does not spend a lifetime and a fortune +in contriving a machine to do single calculations, however +involved, but for the more useful and practical +purpose of working out involved series with absolute +precision. Still, for the purpose of a trial demonstration +we will begin with an ordinary proposition, if you, +Sir Fergus, will kindly set one. My engine now is constructed +to work to fifty places of figures and twelve +orders of difference.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If you have accomplished that,” remarked Copling, +accepting the pencil and the slip of paper offered him, +<a id='tn-mrspinola2'></a>“you have surpassed the dreams of Babbage, Mr +Spinola.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>There was a sudden gasp from Mercia, but it passed +unheeded in the keen excitement of the great occasion. +Spinola received the paper with its row of signs and +figures and turned to operate his engine. He paused +to look back gleefully.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>“So you never guessed, Sir Fergus?” he chuckled +cunningly. “We kept the secret well, but it doesn’t +matter now. <em>I am Charles Babbage!</em>”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The noise of wheel and connecting-rod cut off the +chance of a reply, even if anyone had been prepared to +make one. But no one, in that bewildering moment, +was.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The solution,” announced Spinola with a flourish, +and he passed a little slip of metal stamped with a row +of figures into Sir Fergus’s hand. Then, with a curious +indifference to their verdict, he turned away from the +group and applied himself to the machine again.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What is it? Is it not correct?” demanded Mercia +in an agonised whisper. She had not looked at the +solution, but at her lover’s face, and her hand suddenly +gripped his arm.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is incomprehensible,” replied Sir Fergus, dropping +his voice so that the old man could not overhear. +“It isn’t a matter of right or wrong—it is a mere farrago +of nonsense.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But harmless nonsense—quite harmless,” interposed +Carrados softly from behind them. “Come, we can +safely leave him here; you will always be able to leave +him safely here. Help Miss Dugard out, Copling. It +is better, believe me, to leave him now.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Spinola did not turn. He was bending over the +machine to which he had given life, brain and fortune, +touching its wheels and sliding rods with loving fingers. +They passed silently from his presence and crept back +to the deserted salon, where the deposed head of +Aurelius leered cynically at them from the floor.</p> + +</div> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span></div> +<div class='chapter' id='chapter-8'> + +<div> + <h2 class='c006'>VIII<br> <br>The Kingsmouth Spy Case</h2> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_15_0_65 c010'><span class="uppercase"><a id='tn-notguilty'></a>“Not</span> guilty, my lord!” There was a general +laugh in the lounge of the Rose and Plumes, the +comfortable old Cliffhurst hotel that upheld the +ancient traditions unaffected by the flaunting rivalry +of Grand or Metropole. The jest hidden in the retort +was a small one, but it was at the expense of a pompous, +pretentious bore, and the speaker was a congenial wag +who had contrived in the course of a few weeks to win +a facile popularity on all sides.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Across the room one of the later arrivals—“the blind +gentleman,” as he was sympathetically alluded to, for +few had occasion to learn his name—turned slightly +towards the direction of the voice and added a pleasantly +appreciative smile to the common tribute. Then +his attention again settled on the writing-table at which +he sat, and for the next few minutes his pencil travelled +smoothly, with an occasional pause for consideration, +over the block of telegraphic forms that he had picked +out. At the end of ten minutes he rang for a waiter and +directed that his own man should be sent to him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Here are three telegrams to go off, Parkinson,” he +said in the suave, agreeable voice that scarcely ever +varied, no matter what the occasion might be. “You +<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>will take them yourself at once. After that I shall not +require you again to-night.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The attendant thanked him and withdrew. The +blind man closed his letter-case, retired from the writing-table +to the obscurity of a sequestered corner and +sat unnoticed with his sightless eyes, that always +seemed to be quietly smiling, looking placidly into illimitable +space as he visualised the scene before him, +and the laughter, the conversation and the occasional +whisper went on unchecked around.</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>Max Carrados had journeyed down to Cliffhurst a +few days previously, good-naturedly, but without any +enthusiasm. Indeed it had needed all Mr Carlyle’s +persuasive eloquence to move him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The Home Office, Max,” urged the inquiry agent, +“one of the premier departments of the State! Consider +the distinction! Surely you will not refuse a +commission of that nature direct from the Government?” +Carrados, looking a little deeper than a Melton +overcoat and a glossy silk hat, had once declared +his friend to be the most incurably romantic of idealists. +He now took a malicious pleasure in reducing the situation +to its crudest terms.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why can’t the local police arrest a solitary inoffensive +German spy themselves?” he inquired.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“To tell the truth, Max, I believe that there are two +or three fingers in that pie at the present moment,” +replied Mr Carlyle confidentially. “It doesn’t concern +the Home Office alone. And after that Guitry +Bay fiasco and the unmerciful chaffing that we got in +the German papers—with rather a nasty rap or two +over the knuckles from the <cite>Kölnische Zeitung</cite>—both +<span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>Whitehall and Downing Street are in a blue funk lest +they should do the wrong thing, either let the man slip +away with the papers or arrest him without them.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Contingencies with which I am sure you could +grapple successfully, Louis.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle’s bland complacency did not suggest that +he, at any rate, had any doubt on that score.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But, you know, Max, I am pledged to carry through +the Vandeeming affair here in town. And—um—well, +the Secretary did make a point of you being the man +they relied on.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh! someone there must read the papers, Louis. +But I wonder … why they did not communicate with +me direct.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle contrived to look extremely ingenuous. +Even he occasionally forgot that looks went for nothing +with Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I imagine that they thought that a friendly intermediary—or +something of that sort.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Possibly Inspector Beedel hinted to the Commissioner +that you would have more influence with me +than a whole Government Department?” smiled Carrados. +“And so you have, Louis; so you have. If it’s +your ambition to get the Government on your books +you can tell your clients that I’ll take on their job!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“By Jupiter, Max, you are a good fellow if ever there +was one!” exclaimed Mr Carlyle with gentlemanly +emotion. “But I owe too much to you already.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This won’t make it any more, then. I have another +reason, quite different, for going.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Of course you have,” assented the visitor heartily. +“You are not one to talk about patriotism, and all that, +but you can’t hoodwink me with your dilettantish pose, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>Max, and I know that deep down in your nature there +is a passionate devotion to your country——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Thank you, Louis,” interrupted Carrados. “It is +very nice to learn that. But I am really going to +Kingsmouth because there’s a man there—a curate—who +has the second best private collection in Europe +of autonomous coins of Thessaly.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>For a few seconds Mr Carlyle looked his unutterable +feelings. When he did speak it was with crushing +deliberation.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Mrs Carrados,’ I shall say—if ever there is a Mrs +Carrados, Max—‘Mrs Carrados, two things are necessary +for your domestic happiness. In the first place, +pack up your husband’s tetradrachms in a brown-paper +parcel and send them with your compliments to the +British Museum. In the second, at the earliest possible +opportunity, exact from him an oath that he will never +touch another Greek coin as long as you both live.’”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If ever there is a Mrs Carrados,” was the quick +retort, “I shall probably be independent of the consolation +of Greek coins as, also, Louis, of the distraction +of criminal investigation. In the meantime, what are +you going to tell me about this case?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle at once became alert. He would have +become absolutely professional had not Carrados tactfully +obtruded the cigar-box. The digression, and the +pleasant aroma that followed it, brought him back again +to the merely human.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It began, like a good many other cases, with an +anonymous letter.” He took a slip of paper from his +pocket-book and handed it to Carrados. “Here is a +copy.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A copy!” The blind man ran his finger lightly +along the lines and read aloud what he found there:</p> + +<p class='c013'><span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>“A friend warns you that an attempt is being successfully +made on behalf of another Power to obtain naval +information of vital importance. You have a traitor +within your gates.”</p> + +<p class='c015'>Then he crumpled up the paper and dropped it half-contemptuously +into the waste-paper basket. “A copy +is no use to us, Louis,” he remarked. “Indeed it is +worse than useless; it is misleading.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is all they had here. The original was addressed +to the Admiral-Superintendent at the Kingsmouth +Dockyard. This was sent up with the report. +But I am assured that the other contained no clue to +the writer’s identity.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not even a watermark, ‘Jones, stationer, High +Street, Kingsmouth’!” said Carrados dryly. “Really, +Louis! Every piece of paper contains at least four +palpable clues.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And what are they, pray?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A smell, a taste, an appearance and a texture. This +one, in addition, bears ink, and with it all the characteristics +of an individual handwriting.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In capitals, Max,” Mr Carlyle reminded him. “Our +anonymous friend is up to that.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; I wonder who first started that venerable +illusion.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Illusion?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Certainly an illusion. Capitals, or ‘printed handwriting’ +as one sees them called, are just as idiomorphic +as a cursive form.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But much less available for comparison. How are +you going to obtain a specimen of anyone’s printed +handwriting for comparison?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados reflected silently for a moment.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>“I think I should ask anyone I suspected to do one +for me,” he replied.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carlyle resisted the temptation to laugh outright, but +mordacity lurked in his voice.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And you imagine that the writer of this, who evidently +has good reason for anonymity, will be simple +enough to comply?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I think so; if I ask him nicely.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Look here, Max, I will bet you a box of any cigars +you care to name——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, Louis?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle had hesitated. He was recalling one or +two things from the past, and on those occasions his +friend’s unemotional face had looked just as devoid of +guile as it did now.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, Max, I won’t bet this time, but I should like +to send across a small box of Monterey Coronas for +Parkinson to pack among your things. Well, so much +for the letter.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not quite all,” interposed Carrados. “I must have +the original.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The visitor made a note in his pocket diary.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It shall be sent to you at once. I stipulated an +absolutely free hand for you. Oh, I took a tolerably +high tone! I can assure you, Max. You will find +everything at Kingsmouth very pleasant, and there, of +course, you will learn all the details. Here they don’t +seem to know very much. I was not informed whether +the Dockyard authorities had already had their suspicions +aroused or whether the letter was the first hint. +At all events they acted with tolerable promptness. +The letter, you will see, is undated, but it was delivered +on the seventeenth—last Thursday. On Friday they +put their hands on a man in the construction department—a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>fellow called Brown. He made no fight of it +when he was cornered, but although he owned up to +the charge of betraying information, there was one important +link that he could not supply and one that he +would not. He could not tell them who the spy collecting +the information was, because there was an intermediary; +and he would not betray the intermediary +on any terms. And, by gad! I for one can’t help respecting +the beggar for that remnant of loyalty.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A woman?” suggested Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Even that, I believe, is not known, but very likely +you have hit the mark. A woman would explain the +element of chivalry that prompts Brown’s attitude. +He is under open arrest now—nobody outside is supposed +to know, but of course he can’t buy an evening +paper without it being noted. They are in hope of +something more definite turning up. At present they +have pitched their suspicions on a German visitor staying +at Cliffhurst.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t know, Max. They must fix on someone, you +know. It’s expected. All the same they are deucedly +nervous at this end about the outcome.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Did they say what Brown had given away?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, egad! Do you know anything of the Croxton-Delahey +torpedo?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A little,” admitted Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What does it do?” asked Mr Carlyle, with the +rather sublime air of casual interest which he attached +to any subject outside his own knowledge.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s rather an ingenious contrivance. It is fired like +any other uncontrolled torpedo. At the end of a +straight run—anything up to ten thousand yards at 55 +knots with the superheated system—the diabolical +<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>creature stops and begins deliberately to slash a zigzag +course over any area you have set it for. If in its +roving it comes within two hundred feet of any considerable +mass of iron it promptly makes for it, cuts its +way through torpedo netting if any bars its progress, +explodes its three hundredweight of gun-cotton and +finishes its existence by firing a 24 lb. thorite shell +through the breach it has made.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“’Um,” mused Mr Carlyle, “I don’t like the weapon, +Max, but I would rather that we kept it to ourselves. +Well, Mr Brown has given away the plans.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados disposed of the end of his cigar and crossed +the room to his open desk. From its appointed place +he took a book inscribed “Engagements,” touched a +few pages and scribbled a line of comment here and +there. Then he turned to his guest again.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“All right. I’ll go down to Kingsmouth by the 12.17 +to-morrow morning,” he said. “Now I want you to +look up the following points for me and let me have the +particulars before I go.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carlyle again took out his pocket diary and +beamed approvingly.</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>As a matter of fact the tenor of the replies he received +influenced Carrados to make some change in his +plans. Accompanied by Parkinson he left London by +the appointed train on the next day, but instead of proceeding +to Kingsmouth he alighted at Cliffhurst, the +pretty little seaside resort some five miles east of the +great dockport. After securing rooms at the Rose and +Plumes—an easy enough matter in October—he directed +his attendant to take him to a sheltered seat on +the winding paths below the promenade and there leave +him for an hour.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>“Very nicely kept, these walks and shrubberies, +sir,” remarked an affable voice from the other end of +the bench. A leisurely pedestrian whose clothes and +manner proclaimed him to be an aimless holiday-maker +had sauntered along and, after a moment’s hesitation, +had sat down on the same form.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, Inspector,” replied Carrados genially. “Almost +up to the standard of our own Embankment +Gardens, are they not?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Detective-Inspector Tapling, of New Scotland Yard, +went rather red and then laughed quietly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I wasn’t quite sure at first if it was you, Mr Carrados,” +he apologised, moving nearer and lowering his +voice. “I was to report to you here, sir, and to give you +any information and assistance you might require.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“How are you getting on?” inquired Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We think that we have got hold of the right man, +sir; but for reasons that you can guess the Chief is very +anxious to have no mistake this time.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Muller?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir. He has a furnished villa here in Cliffhurst +and is very open-handed. The time he came fits in, so +far as we can tell, with the beginning of the inquiries +in Kingsmouth. Then, whatever his real name is, it +isn’t Muller.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He is a German?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh yes; he’s German right enough, sir. We’ve +looked up telegrams to him from Lubeck—nothing important +though—and he has changed German notes in +Kingsmouth. He spends a lot of time over there—says +the fishing is better, but that’s all my eye, only the +Kingsmouth boatmen get hold of the dockyard talk +and know more of the movements than the men about +here. Then there’s a lady.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>“The intermediary?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That’s further than we can go at the moment, but +there is a lady at the furnished villa. She’s not exactly +Mrs Muller, we believe, but she lives there, if you understand +what I mean, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Perfectly,” acquiesced Carrados in the same modest +spirit.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“So that all the necessary conditions can be shown +to exist,” concluded Tapling.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But so far you have not a single positive fact connecting +Muller with Brown?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The Inspector admitted that he had not, but added +hopefully that he was in immediate expectation of +information that would enable him to link up the +detached surmises into a conclusive chain of direct +evidence.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And if I might ask the favour of you, sir,” he continued, +“you would be doing us a great service if you +would allow us to continue our investigation for another +twenty-four hours. I think that by then we shall be +able to show something solid. And if you certify what +we have done, that’s all to our credit, whereas if you +take it out of our hands now——You see what I +mean, Mr Carrados, but of course it lies entirely with +you.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados assented with his usual good nature. His +actual business was only to examine the evidence before +the arrest was made and to guarantee that the +Home Office should not be involved in another spy-scare +fiasco. He knew Tapling to be a reliable officer, +and he did not doubt that the line he was working was +the correct one. Least of all did he wish to deprive the +man of his due credit.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I can very well put in a day on my own account,” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>he accordingly replied. “And so long as Muller is here +there does not appear to be any special urgency. I +suppose the odds are that the papers have been got +away before you began to watch?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There is just a chance yet, we believe, sir; and the +Admiralty is very keen on recovering those torpedo +plans if it’s to be done. Some of these foreign spies like +to keep the thing as much as possible in their own +hands. There’s more credit to it, and more cash, too, +at headquarters if they do. Then if it comes to a matter +of touch-and-go, a letter, and especially a letter +from abroad, may be stopped on the way. You will say +that a man may be, for that matter, but there’s been +another reason against posting valuable papers about +here for the past week.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Of course,” assented Carrados with enlightenment. +“The Suffragettes down here are out.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I never thought to have any of that lot helping +me,” said the Inspector, absent-mindedly stroking his +right shin; “but they may have turned the scale for +us this time. There isn’t a posting place from a rural +pillar-box to the head office at Kingsmouth that has +been really safe from them. They’ve even got at the +registered letters in the sorting-rooms somehow. That’s +why I think there’s a chance still.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson’s approaching figure announced that an +hour had passed. Carrados and the Inspector rose to +walk away in different directions, but before they parted +the blind man put a question that had confronted him +several times, although he had as yet given only a +glancing attention to the case.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Now that Muller has got the plans of the torpedo, +Inspector, why is he remaining here?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>It was a simple and an obvious inquiry, but before +<span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>he replied Inspector Tapling looked round suspiciously. +Then he further reduced the distance between them and +dropped his voice to a whisper.</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>St Ethelburga’s boasted the most tin-potty bell and +the highest ritual of any church in Kingsmouth. Outside +it resembled a brick barn, inside a marble palace, +and its ministration overworked a vicar and two enthusiastic +curates. It stood at the corner of Jubilee +Street and Lower Dock Approach, a conjunction that +should render further description of the neighbourhood +superfluous.</p> + +<p class='c011'><a id='tn-revbyam'></a>The Rev. Byam Hosier, the senior curate, whose +magnetic eloquence filled St Ethelburga’s from chancel +steps to porch, lodged in Jubilee Street, and there Mr +Carrados found him at ten o’clock on the following +morning. The curate had just finished his breakfast, +and the simultaneous correction of a batch of exercise +books. He apologised for the disorder without justifying +himself by explaining the cause, for instead of being +a laggard Mr Hosier had already taken an early celebration, +and afterwards allowed himself to be intercepted +on his way back to attend to a domestic quarrel, +a lost cat, and the arrangements for a funeral.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I got your note last night, Mr Carrados,” he said, +after guiding his guest to a seat, for Parkinson had been +dismissed to make himself agreeable elsewhere. “I am +glad to show you my small collection, and still more +so to have an opportunity of thanking you for the help +you have given me from time to time.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados lightly disclaimed the obligation. It was +the first time the two had met, though, as the outcome +of a review article, they had frequently corresponded. +The clergyman went to his single cabinet, took out the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>top tray and put it down before his visitor on the now +available table.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Pherae,” he said.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“May I touch the surfaces?” asked the blind man.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, certainly. Pray do. I am sorry——” He +did not quite know what to say before the spectacle of +the blind expert, with his eyes fixed elsewhere, passing a +critical touch over the details that he himself loved to +gaze upon.</p> + +<p class='c011'>In this one thing the Rev. Byam was fastidious. His +clothes were generally bordering on the shabby, and he +allowed himself to wear boots that shocked or amused +the feminine element in the first half-dozen pews of St +Ethelburga’s. He might—as he frequently did, indeed—make +a breakfast of weak tea, bread and butter and +marmalade without any sense of deficiency, but in the +matter of Greek coins his taste was exacting and his +standard exact. His one small mahogany cabinet was +pierced for five hundred specimens, and it was far +from full, but every coin was the exquisite production +of the golden era of the world’s creative art.</p> + +<p class='c011'>It did not take Carrados three minutes to learn this. +Occasionally he dropped a word of comment or inquiry, +but for the most part tray succeeded tray in fascinated +silence.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Still Larissa,” announced the clergyman, sliding out +the last tray.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Under each coin was a circular ticket with written +particulars of the specimen accompanying it. For +some time Carrados took little interest in these commentaries, +but presently Hosier noticed that his guest +was submitting many of them to a close but quiet +scrutiny.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>“Excuse my asking, Mr Carrados,” he said at length, +“but are you quite blind?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Quite,” was the unconcerned reply. “Why?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Because I noticed that you held some of the labels +close to your eyes and I fancied that perhaps——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is my way.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Forgive my curiosity——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I can assure you, Mr Hosier, that other people are +much more touchy about my blindness than I am. +Now will you do me a kindness? I should like a copy +of the inscriptions on half-a-dozen of these gems.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“With pleasure.” The curate discovered pen and ink +and paper and waited.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This didrachm of the nymph Larissa wearing earrings; +this of Artemis and the stag; this, and this, +and this.” The trays had been left displayed upon the +table and Carrados’s hand selected from them with +unerring precision.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Hosier took the chosen coins and noted down the +legends in their bold Greek capitals. “Shall I describe +the type of each as well?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Thank you,” assented his visitor. “If you don’t +mind writing that also in capitals and not blotting I +shall read it so much the easier.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He accepted the sheet of paper and delicately +touched the lettering along each line.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have a friend who will be equally interested in +this,” he remarked, taking out his pocket-book.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The clergyman had turned to remove a tray from the +table when a sheet of paper, fluttering to the ground, +caught his eye. He picked it up and was returning it +into the blind man’s hand when he stopped in a sudden +arrest of every movement.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good heavens, Mr Carrados!” he exclaimed in an +<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>agitated voice, “how does this come in your possession?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Your note?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You know that it is mine?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes—now,” replied Carrados quietly. “It was +sent to me by the Admiral-Superintendent of the Yard +here. He wished to communicate with the writer.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am bewildered at the suddenness of this,” protested +the poor young man in some distress. “Let me +tell you the circumstances—such at least as do not +violate my promise.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He procured himself a glass of water from the sideboard, +drank half of it and began to pace the room +nervously as he talked.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“On Wednesday last, after taking Evensong at the +church, I was leaving the vestry when a lady stepped +forward and asked if she might speak to me privately. +It is a request which a clergyman cannot refuse, Mr +Carrados, but I endeavoured first to find out what she +required, because people frequently come to one or +another of us on business that really has to do with the +clerk, or the organist, or something of that sort.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“She assured me that it was a personal matter and +that no other official would do.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The lights had by this time been extinguished in the +church, and doubtless the apparitor had left. I gave +her my address here and asked her if she would call in +ten or twenty minutes. I preferred that she should +present herself in the ordinary way.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There is no need to go into extraneous details. The +unhappy lady wished to unburden her conscience by +making explicit confession, and she had come to me in +consequence of a sermon which she had heard me +preach on the Sunday before.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>“It is not expedient to weigh considerations of time +or circumstance in such a case. I allowed her to proceed, +and she made her confession under the seal of inviolable +confidence. It involved other persons besides +herself. I besought her to undo as far as possible the +great harm she had done by making a full statement to +the authorities, but this she was too weak—too terrified—to +do. This clumsy warning of mine”—he pointed +to the paper now lying on the table between them—“was +the utmost concession that I could wring from +her.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He stopped and looked at his visitor with a troubled +face that seemed to demand some sort of assent to the +dilemma.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You are an Englishman, Mr Hosier, and you know +what this might mean in a conflict—you know that one +of our most formidable weapons has been annexed.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My dear sir!” rapped out the distressed curate, +“don’t you think that I haven’t worried about that? +But behind the Englishman stands something more +primitive, more just—the man. I gave my assurance +as a man, and the Admiralty can go hang!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Besides,” he added, in petulant reaction, “the poor +woman is dying, and then everyone can know. Of +course it may be too late.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you mind telling me if the lady gave you the +names of her accomplices?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“How can I tell you, Mr Carrados? It may identify +her in some way. I am too confounded by your unexpected +appearance in the affair to know what is important +and what is not.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It will not implicate her. I have no concern there.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then, yes, she did. She gave me every detail.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I ask because a man is suspected and on the point +<span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>of arrest. He may be innocent. I have no deeper +motive, but if the one for whom she is working is not a +German called, or passing as, Muller, you might have +some satisfaction in exonerating him.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The curate reflected a moment.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He is not, Mr Carrados,” he replied decidedly. +“But please don’t ask me anything more.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very well, I won’t,” said Carrados, rising. “Our +numismatic conversation has taken a strange turn, Mr +Hosier. There is a text for you—Money at the root of +everything! By the way, I can do you one trifling +service.” He picked up the anonymous letter, tore it +across and held it out. “You have done all you could. +Burn this and then you are clear of the matter.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Thanks, thanks. But won’t it get you into trouble +with the Admiralty?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I make my own terms,” replied Carrados. “Now +Mr Hosier, I have been an ill-omened bird, but I had +no suspicion of this when I came. The ‘long arm’ has +landed us this time. Will you come and dine with me +one day this week, and I promise you not a single reference +to this troublesome business?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You are very good,” assented Hosier.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am at Cliffhurst——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Cliffhurst?” was Hosier’s quick exclamation.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, at the Rose and Plumes.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I—I am very sorry, Mr Carrados,” stammered the +curate, “but, after all, I am afraid that I must cry off. +This week——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If the distance takes up too much of your time, may +I send a car?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, no, it isn’t that—at least, of course, one has to +consider time and work. Thank you, Mr Carrados; +you are very kind, but, really, if you don’t mind——”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>Carrados courteously accepted the refusal without +further pressure. He turned the momentary embarrassment +by hoping that Hosier would not fail to call +on him when next in London, and the curate availed +himself of the compromise to protest the pleasure that +it would afford him. Parkinson was summoned and +the strangely developed visit came to an end.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson doubtless found his master a dull companion +on the way back. Carrados had to rearrange +his ideas from the preconception which he had so far +tentatively based on Inspector Tapling’s report, and he +was faced by the necessity of discovering whose presence +made the Rose and Plumes Hotel inexplicably +distasteful to Mr Hosier just then. Only two flashes +of conversation broke the journey, both of which may +be taken as showing the trend of Max Carrados’s mind, +and demonstrating the sound common sense exhibited +by his henchman.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is a mistake they often make, Parkinson, to +begin looking with a fixed idea of what they are going +to find.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>And, ten minutes later:</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But I don’t know that it would be safe yet to ignore +the obvious altogether.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, sir,” replied Parkinson.</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>“Not guilty, my lord!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>That was the link for which Carrados had been waiting +patiently each day since his visit to Kingsmouth; +or, more exactly, since the sound of a voice heard in the +hotel on his return had stirred a memory that he could +not materialise. Parkinson had described the man with +photographic exactness and still recognition was balked. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>Tapling, who found himself at a deadlock before the +furnished villa, both by reason of his want of progress +and at Carrados’s recommendation, contributed his +observation, which was guardedly negative. Everyone +about knew Mr Slater—“a pleasant, open-handed +gentleman, with a word and a joke for all”—but no one +knew anything of him, as, indeed, who should know +of a leisurely bird of passage staying for a little time at +a seaside hotel?</p> + +<p class='c011'>Then across the lounge rang the mock-serious repartee, +and enlightenment cut into the patient listener’s +brain like a flash of inspiration.</p> + +<p class='c011'>These were the three telegrams which immediately +came into existence as a result of that ray, deciphered +here from their code obscurity:</p> + +<p class='c018'>“<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Greatorex, Turrets, Richmond, Surrey</span>.</p> + +<p class='c014'>“Extract <cite>Times</cite> full report trial Henry Frankworth, +convicted embezzlement early 1906, and forward express.—<span class='sc'>Carrados.</span>”</p> + +<p class='c018'>“<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Wrattesley, Home Office, Whitehall, S.W.</span></p> + +<p class='c014'>“Will you please have Lincoln authorities instructed +to send me confidential report antecedents Henry +Frankworth, embezzler, native Trudstone that county. +Urgent.—<span class='sc'>Wynn Carrados.</span>”</p> + +<p class='c018'>“<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Carlyle, 72a Bampton St., W.C.</span></p> + +<p class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>My dear Louis</span>,—Why not come down week-end +talk things over? Meanwhile make every effort discover +subsequent history Henry Frankworth convicted +embezzlement Central Criminal Court early 1906. +Beedel will furnish police records. Pressing.—<span class='sc'>Max.</span>”</p> + +<p class='c015'><span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>On his way upstairs a few hours later Carrados +looked in at the reception office to inquire if there were +any letters.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“By the by,” he remarked, after he had turned to +leave, “I wonder if you happen to have a room a little—just +a little—farther away from the drawing-room?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Certainly, sir,” replied the clerk. “Does the playing +annoy you? They do keep it up rather late sometimes, +don’t they?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, it doesn’t annoy me,” admitted Carrados; “on +the contrary, I am passionately fond of it. But it +tempts me into lying awake listening when I ought to +be asleep.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The young lady laughed pleasantly. It was her business +to be agreeable.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You are considerate!” she rippled. “Well, there’s +the further corridor; or, of course, a floor above——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The floor above would do nicely. Not on the front +if possible. The sea is rather noisy.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Second floor, west corridor.” She glanced at her +keyboard. “No. 15?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Is that the side overlooking the——?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The High Street,” she prompted.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am such a poor sleeper,” he apologised.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No. 21 on the other side, overlooking the gardens?” +she suggested.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am sure that will do admirably,” he said, with the +gratitude that is always so touching from the blind. +“Thank you for taking so much trouble to pick it for +me. Good-night.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I will have your things transferred to-morrow,” she +nodded after him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>An hour later Mr Slater, generally the last man to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>leave the lounge, strolled across to the office for his +key.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No. 22, sir, isn’t it?” she hazarded, unhooking it +without waiting for the number.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good little girl,” he assented approvingly. “What +a brain beneath that fascinating aureola. Eh bien, au +revoir, petite! You ought to be about snuffing the +candle yourself, my dear.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The young lady laughed just as pleasantly. It was +her business to be equally agreeable to all.</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carrados was sitting in an alcove of the lounge on +the following morning when Parkinson brought him a +letter. It proved to be the extract from <cite>The Times</cite>, +written on the special typewriter. The day was bright +and inviting and the room was deserted. On his master’s +instruction Parkinson sat down and waited while +the blind man rapidly deciphered the half-dozen sheets +of typewriting.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You have been with me to the Old Bailey several +times,” remarked Carrados, as he slowly replaced the +document. “Do you remember an occasion in February +1906?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson looked unnecessarily wise, but was unable +to acquiesce. Carrados gave him another guide.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A man named Frankworth was sentenced to +eighteen months’ imprisonment for an ingenious system +of theft. He had also fraudulently disposed of +information to trade rivals of his employer.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I apprehend the circumstances now, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Can you recall the appearance of the prisoner?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson thought that he could, but he did not rise +to the suggestion and Carrados was obliged to follow +the direct line.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>“Have you seen anyone lately—here in the hotel—who +might be Frankworth?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I can’t say that I have, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Take Mr Slater now. Shave off his beard and +moustache.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson began to look respectfully uncomfortable.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you mean, sir——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“By an effort of the imagination, Parkinson. Close +your eyes and picture Mr Slater as a clean-shaven man, +some years younger, standing in the dock——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir. There is a distinct resemblance.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>With this Max Carrados had to be satisfied for the +time. Long memory was not Parkinson’s strong point, +but he had his own pre-eminent gift, and of this his +master was to have an immediate example that outweighed +every possible deficiency.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Speaking of Mr Slater, sir, I noticed a curious thing +that I intended to mention, as you told me to be particularly +observant.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados nodded encouragingly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I was talking to Herbert early this morning as he +cleaned the boots. He is a very bigoted Free Trader, +sir, and is thinking of becoming a Mormon, and I was +speaking to him about it. Presently he came to No. +22’s—Mr Slater’s. They were muddy, for Mr Slater +went out for a walk last night—I saw him as he returned. +But the boots that Mr Slater put out to be +cleaned last night were not the boots that he went out +in and got wet, although they were exactly the same +make.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is certainly curious,” admitted Carrados +slowly. “There was only one pair put out?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is all, sir; and they were not the boots that +Mr Slater has worn every day since I began to notice +<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>him particularly. He always does wear the same pair, +morning, noon and night.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Wait,” said Carrados briskly. An idea bordering +on the fantastic flashed between a sentence in the report +which he had just been reading and Parkinson’s +discovery. He took out the sheets, ran his finger along +the lines and again read—“stated that the prisoner was +the son of a respectable bootmaker, and had followed +the occupation himself.” “I know how accurate you +are, Parkinson, but this may be of superlative importance. +You see that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I had not contemplated it in that light, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But what did the incident suggest to you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I inferred, sir, that Mr Slater must have had some +reason for going out again after the hotel was closed.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, that might explain half; but what if he did +not?” persisted Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson wisely dismissed the intellectual problem +as outside his sphere.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then I am unable to suggest why the gentleman +cleaned his muddy boots himself and muddied his clean +boots, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, that is what it comes to. He is wearing the +same pair again this morning?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir. The boots that were dirty at ten o’clock +last night.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Pay particular attention to Mr Slater’s boots in +future. I have transferred to No. 21, so you will have +every opportunity. Talk to Herbert about Tariff Reform +to-morrow morning. In the meanwhile—Are +they any particular make?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Moorland hand-made waterproof,’ a heavy shooting +boot, sir. Size 7. Rossiter, of Kingsmouth, is the +maker.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>“In the meanwhile go to Kingsmouth and buy an +identical pair. Before you go cut the sole off one of +your oldest boots and bring me a piece about three +inches square. Buy yourself another pair. Here is a +note. Do you know which chamber-maid has charge of +No. 21?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I could ascertain, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It would be as well. You might buy her a bangle +out of the change—if you have no personal objection to +the young lady’s society. And, Parkinson——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I know you to be discreet and reliable. The work +we are engaged on here is exceptionally important and +equally honourable. A mistake might ruin it. That is +all.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Thank you, sir.” Parkinson marched away with +his head a little higher for the guarded compliment. It +was the essence of the man’s extraordinary value to his +master that while on some subjects he thought deeply, +on others he did not think at all; and he contrived +automatically to separate everything into its proper +compartment.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Here is what you require, sir,” he said, returning +with the square of leather.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Come across to the fireplace,” said Carrados. +“There is still no one else in the lounge?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Who would be the last servant to see to this room +at night—to leave the fire safe and the windows +fastened?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The hall porter, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Where is he now?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In the outer hall.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados bent towards the fire. “It’s a million-to-one +<span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>chance,” he thought, “but it’s worth trying.” He +dropped the leather on to the red coals, waited until it +began to smoke fiercely, and then, lifting it out with +the tongs, he allowed the pungent aromatic odour to +diffuse into the air for a few seconds. A minute later +the charred fragment had lost its identity among the +embers.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Go now, and on your way tell the hall porter that +I want to speak to him.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The hall porter came, a magnificent being, but full of +affable condescension.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You sent for me, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados was sitting at a table near the fire.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes. I am a little nervous. Do you smell anything +burning?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The porter sniffed the air—superfluously but loudly, +so that the blind gentleman should hear that he was not +failing in his duty. Then he looked comprehensively +around.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There certainly is a sort of hottish smell somewhere, +sir,” he admitted.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It isn’t any woodwork about the fireplace scorching? +We blind are so helpless.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That’s all right, sir.” He laid a broad hand on the +mantelpiece and then rapped it reassuringly. “Solid +marble that, sir. You needn’t be afraid; I’ll give a +look across now and then.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Thank you, if you will,” said Carrados, with relief +in his voice. “And, by the way, will you ring for +Maurice as you go?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>A distant bell churred. Across the room, like a +strangely balancing bird, skimmed a waiter.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Sair?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>“Oh, is that you, Maurice? I want——By the +way, what’s that burning?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Burning, sair?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; don’t you smell anything?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There is an odour of smell,” admitted Maurice +sagely, “but it is nothing to see.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You don’t know the smell?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The waiter shook his head and looked vague. Carrados +divined perplexity.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, I dare say it’s nothing,” he declared carelessly. +“Will you get me a sherry and khoosh?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The million-to-one chance had failed.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Sherry and bittaire, sair.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Maurice deposited the glass with great precision, +regarded it sadly and then moved it three inches to +the right.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I ’ave recollect this odour, sair,” he remarked, +“although I cannot give actuality. I ’ave met him here +before, but—less—less forcefully.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“When?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, one week since, perhaps.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Something in the coals?” suggested Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I imagine yes,” pondered Maurice conscientiously. +“I was ‘brightening up,’ you say, for the night, and the +fire was low down. I squash it with the poker still more +for safety.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, then the lounge would be empty?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes—of people. Only Mr Slataire already departing.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados indicated that he did not want the change +and dismissed the subject.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“So long as nothing’s on fire,” he said with indifference.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>“Thank you, sair.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The million-to-one chance had come off after all.</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>Two days later, walking beyond the usual limit of +the conventional promenade, Carrados reached a rough +wooden hut such as contractors erect during the progress +of their work. Having accompanied his master to +the door, Parkinson returned towards the promenade +and sat down to admire the seascape from the nearest +bench.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Inside the hut three men had been waiting. One of +the trio, a tall, military-looking man with the air of a +personage, had been sitting on a whitewash-splashed +trestle reading <cite>The Times</cite>. Of the others, one was +Inspector Tapling, and the third a dwarfish, wizened +creature with the air of a converted ostler. He had +passed the time by watching the Cliffhurst side through +a knot-hole in a plank. With the entrance of Carrados +the tall man folded his newspaper and a period of +expectancy seemed to have come to an end.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Good-morning, Colonel, Inspector and you there, +Bob.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You found your way, Mr Carrados?” remarked the +Colonel.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; it is not really I who am late. I had a letter +this morning from Wrattesley holding me up for a wire +at 10.30. It did not arrive till 10.45.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah, it did come! Then we may regard everything +as settled?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, Colonel. On the contrary, we must accept +everything as upset.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados took out the slim pocket-book, extracted a +telegram and held it out.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>“What is this?” demanded the Colonel, peering +through his glasses in the indifferent light. “‘Laburnum +edifice plaster dark dark late herald same dome +aurora dark vitiate camp encase.’ I don’t know the +code.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, it’s Westneath’s arrangement,” explained +Carrados. “‘The individual with whom we are concerned +must not be arrested on charge, but it is of the +gravest importance that the papers in question be recovered. +There must be no public proceedings even if +conviction assured.’”</p> + +<p class='c011'>There was a moment of stupefaction.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This—this is a bombshell!” exclaimed the Colonel. +“What does it mean?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Politics,” replied Carrados tersely.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah!” soliloquised Tapling, walking to the door and +looking sympathetically out at the gloomy prospect of +sea and sky.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But I’ve had no notification,” protested the Colonel. +“Surely, Mr Carrados——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The wire is probably at the station.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“True; you said 10.45. Well, what do you propose +doing now?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Scrapping all our arrangements and recovering the +papers without arresting Slater.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“In what way?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“At the moment I have not the faintest idea.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The Inspector left the door and came back moodily +to his old position.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We have reason to think that he is becoming suspicious, +Mr Carrados,” he remarked. “He may decide +to go any hour.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then the sooner we act the better.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The stunted pigmy in the background had been +<span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>listening to the conversation with rapt attention, fastening +his eyes unwinkingly on each face in turn. He now +glided forward.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Listen to me, gents,” he said, throwing round a +cunning leer; “how does this sound? This afternoon.…”</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>That afternoon Mr Slater had been for what he +termed “a blow of the briny,” as his custom was on a +fine day. He was returning in the dusk and had crossed +the spacious promenade when, at a corner, he almost +ran into the broad figure of a policeman who stood talking +to a woman on the path.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That’s the man!” exclaimed the woman with almost +vicious certainty.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Slater fell back a step in momentary alarm; then, +recovering his self-control, he went forward with admirable +composure.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Beg pardon, sir,” explained the constable, “but +this young lady has just lost her purse. She says she +was sitting next to you on a seat——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And the minute after he had gone—the very minute—my +bag was open like you see it now and my purse +vanished,” interposed the lady volubly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“On the seat by the lifeboat where I passed you, sir,” +amplified the constable.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This is ridiculous,” said Mr Slater with a breath of +relief. “I am a gentleman and I have no need to steal +purses. My name is Slater, and I am staying at the +Rose and Plumes.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir,” assented the policeman respectfully. “I +know you by sight, sir, and have seen you go there. +You hear what the gentleman says, miss?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Gentleman or no gentleman, I know my purse has +<span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>gone,” snapped the girl. “If he hasn’t got it why did +it vanish—where is it now? That’s all I ask—where +is it now?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You’ve seen nothing of it, I take it, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, of course I haven’t,” retorted the gentleman +contemptuously. “I was sitting on a seat. The +woman may have sat next to me—someone reading +certainly did. Then I got up, walked once or twice up +and down and came across. That’s all.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What was in the purse, miss?” inquired the constable.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A postal order for a sovereign—and, thank the +Lord, I’ve got the tag of it—a half-crown, two shillings +and a few coppers, a Kruger sixpence with a hole +through, a gold gipsy ring with pearls, the return half +of my ticket, some hairpins and a few recipes, a book of +powder papers, a pocket mirror——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That ought to be enough to identify it by,” said the +constable, catching Mr Slater’s eye in humorous sympathy. +“Well, miss, you’d better come to the station +and report the loss. Perhaps you’ll look in as well, +sir?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Does that mean,” demanded Mr Slater with a dark +gleam, “that I am to be charged with theft?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Bless you, no, sir,” was the easy reassurance. “We +couldn’t take a charge in the circumstances—not with +a gentleman of respectable position and known address. +But it might save you some inquiry and bother later, +and if it was myself I should like to get it done with +while it was red-hot, so to speak.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I will go now,” decided Mr Slater. “Do I walk +with——?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Just as you like, sir. You can go before or follow +on. It’s only just down Bank Street.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>The two went on and the gentleman followed at a +few yards’ interval. Three minutes and a blue lamp +indicated their destination. No other pedestrian was +in sight; the door stood hospitably open and Mr Slater +walked in.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The station Inspector was seated at a desk when they +entered and a couple of other officials stood about the +room. The policeman explained the circumstances of +the loss, the Inspector noting the details in the record-book.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“This gentleman voluntarily accompanied us as he +had been brought into the case,” concluded the policeman.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Here is my card, Superintendent,” said Mr Slater +with some importance. He had determined to be agreeable, +but dignified, and to enlist the Inspector on his +side. “I am staying at the Rose and Plumes. It’s +deuced unpleasant, you know, for a gentleman in my +position to have to answer to a charge like this. That’s +why I came at once to clear the matter up.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Quite so, sir,” replied the Inspector; “but there is +no charge at present.” He turned to the girl. “You +understand that if you sign the charge-sheet and it +turns out that you are mistaken it may be a serious +matter?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I only want my purse and money back,” replied the +young woman mulishly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We will try to find it for you; but there is nothing +beyond your suspicion that this gentleman has ever +seen it. Probably, sir, you don’t possess a sovereign +postal order, or a Kruger coin, or any of the other +articles, even of your own?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t,” replied Mr Slater. “Except, of course, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>some silver and copper. If it will satisfy you I will +turn out my pockets.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The Inspector looked at the complainant.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You hear that, miss?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, very well,” she retorted. “If he really hasn’t +got it I shall be the one to look silly, shan’t I?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>On this encouragement Mr Slater made a display of +his various possessions, turning out each pocket as he +emptied it. The contents were laid before the Inspector, +who satisfied himself by a glance of their innocent +nature.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I should warn you that I am going to bring out a +loaded revolver,” said Mr Slater when he came to his +hip-pocket. “I travel a good deal abroad and often in +wild parts, where it is necessary to carry a pistol for +protection.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The Inspector nodded and examined the weapon with +a knowing touch. The last pocket was displayed.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That’s not what I mean,” objected the girl with a +dogged air, as everyone began to regard her in varying +degrees of inquiry. “You don’t suppose that anyone +would keep the things in their pocket, do you? I +thought you meant properly.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The Inspector addressed himself to Mr Slater again +in a matter-of-fact, business manner.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Perhaps you would like one of my men to put his +hand over you to settle the matter, sir?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c011'>For just a couple of seconds there was the pause of +hesitation.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If nothing is found you withdraw all imputation +against this gentleman?” demanded the Inspector of +the girl.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Suppose I must,” she admitted with an admirable +pose of sulky acquiescence. In less exciting moments +<span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>the young lady was a valued member of the Kingsmouth +Amateur Dramatic Society.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, all right,” assented Mr Slater. “Only get it +over.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You quite understand that the search is entirely +voluntary on your part, sir. Hilldick!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>One of the other policemen came forward.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You can stand where you are, sir,” he directed. +With the practised skill of, say, a Custom House officer +from Kingsmouth, he used his fingers dexterously about +the gentleman’s clothing. “Now, sir, will you sit down +and remove your boots for a moment?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“My boots!” The man’s eyes narrowed and his +mouth took another line. He glanced at the Inspector. +“Is it really necessary——?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That’s it!” came from the girl in a fiercely exultant +whisper. “He’s slipped them in his boots!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Idiot!” commented Mr Slater. He sat down and +slowly drew slack the laces.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Thank you,” said Hilldick. He picked up both +boots and with them turned to the table underneath the +light. The next moment there was a sound like the +main-spring of a clock going wrong and the sole and +the upper of one boot came violently apart.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You scoundrel!” screamed Slater, leaping from the +chair.</p> + +<p class='c011'>But the grouping of the room had undergone a quiet +change. Two men closed in on his right and left, and +Mr Slater sat down again. The Inspector opened the +desk, dropped in the revolver and turned the key. Then +all eyes went again to Hilldick and saw—nothing.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The other boot,” came in a quiet voice from the +doorway to the inner room. “But just let me have it +for a second.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>It was put into his hands, and Carrados examined it +in unmoved composure, while unpresentable words +flowed in a blistering stream from Slater’s lips.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, it is very good workmanship, Mr Frankworth,” +remarked the blind man. “You haven’t forgotten your +early training. All right, Hilldick.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The tool cut and rasped again and the stitches flew. +But this time from the opening, snugly lying in a space +cut out among the leathers, a flat packet slid down to +the ground.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Someone tore open the oiled silk covering and spread +out the contents. Six sheets of fine tracing paper, each +covered with signs and drawings, were disclosed.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The finality of the discovery acted on the culprit like +a douche of water. He ceased to revile, and a white +and deadly calm came over him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t know who is responsible for this atrocious +outrage,” he said between his clenched teeth, “but +everyone concerned shall pay dearly for it. I am a +naturalised Frenchman, and my adopted country will +demand immediate satisfaction.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Your adopted country is welcome to you, and it’s +going to have you back again,” said the Inspector +grimly. “Here is a pair of boots exactly like your own—we +only retain the papers, which do not belong to +you. You are allowed twenty-four hours to be clear +of the country. If you have not sailed by this time to-morrow +you will be arrested as Henry Frankworth for +failing to report yourself when on licence and sent to +serve the unexpired portion of your sentence. If you +return at any time the same course will be followed. +Inspector Tapling, here is the warrant. You will keep +Frankworth under observation and act as the circumstances +demand.”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>Henry Frankworth glared round the room vindictively, +drew himself up and clenched his fists. Then +his figure drooped, and he turned and walked dully out +into the darkening night.</p> + +<hr class='c012'> + +<p class='c011'>“So you let the German spy slip through your fingers +after all,” protested Mr Carlyle warmly. “I know that +it was on instructions, and not your doing, Max; but +why, why on earth, why?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados smiled and pointed to the heading of a +column in an evening paper that he picked up from his +side.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There is your answer, Louis,” he replied.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘<span class='sc'>Position of the Entente. What does France +Mean?</span>’” read the gentleman. “What has that got to +do with it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Your German spy was a French spy, Louis, and just +at this moment a certain section of the public, led by a +certain gang of politicians and aided by a certain interest +in the Press, is doing its best to imperil the Entente. +The Government has no desire to have the Entente +imperilled. Hence your wail. If the dear old emotional, +pig-headed, Rule-Britannia! public had got it +that French spies were stalking through the land at this +crisis, then, indeed, the fat would have been in the +fire!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But, upon my soul, Max——Well, well; I hope +that I am the last man to be led by newspaper clap-trap, +but I think that it’s a deuced queer proceeding all the +same. Why should our ally want our secret plans?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why not, if he can get them?” demanded Max +Carrados philosophically. <a id='tn-whatmayhappen'></a>“One never knows what +may happen next. We ought to have plans and knowledge +of all the French strategic positions as well as of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>the German. I hope that we have, but I doubt it. It +would be a guarantee of peace and good relations.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There are times, Max,” declared Mr Carlyle severely, +“when I suspect you of being—er—paradoxical.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Can you imagine, Louis, an Archbishop of Canterbury, +or a Poet Laureate, or a Chancellor of the +Exchequer being friendly—perhaps even dining—with +the editor of <cite>The Times</cite>?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Certainly; why not?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yet in the editor’s office, drawn up by his orders, +there is probably a three-column obituary notice of +each of those impersonalities. Does it mean that the +editor wishes them to die—much less has any intention +of poisoning their wine? Ridiculous! He merely, as a +prudent man, prepares for an eventuality, so as not to +be caught unready by a misfortune which he sincerely +hopes will never take place—in his time, that is to +say.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, well,” said Mr Carlyle benignantly—they +were lunching together at Vitet’s, on Carrados’s return—“I +am glad that we got the papers. One thing I +cannot understand. Why didn’t the fellow get clear as +soon as he had the plans?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah,” admitted the blind man, “why not, indeed? +Even Inspector Tapling bated his breath when he suggested +the reason to me.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And what was that?” inquired Carlyle with intense +interest.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mr Carrados looked extremely mysterious and half-reluctant +for a moment. Then he spoke.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Do you know, Louis, of any great secret military +camp where a surprise fleet of dirigibles and flying +machines of a new and terrible pattern is being formed +<span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>by a far-seeing Government as a reserve against the +day of Armageddon?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No,” admitted Mr Carlyle, with staring eyes, “I +don’t.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nor do I,” contributed Carrados.</p> + +</div> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span></div> +<div class='chapter' id='chapter-9'> + +<div> + <h2 class='c006'>IX<br> <br>The Eastern Mystery</h2> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_15_0_65 c010'><span class="uppercase">It</span> could scarcely be called Harris’s fault, whatever +the driver next behind might say in the momentary +bitterness of his heart. In the two-fifths of a +second of grace at his disposal Mr Carrados’s chauffeur +had done all that was possible and the bunt that his +radiator gave the stair-guard of the London General in +front was insignificant. Then a Railway Express Delivery +skated on its dead weight into his luggage platform +and a Pickford, turning adroitly out of the mêlée, +slewed a stationary Gearless round by its hand-rail +stanchion to spread terror among the other line of +traffic.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The most unconcerned person, to all appearance, was +the driver of the London General, the vehicle whose +sudden stoppage had initiated the riot of confusion. +He had seen a man, engrossed to the absolute exclusion +of his surroundings by something that took his eye on +the opposite footpath, dash into the road and then, +brought up suddenly by a realisation of his position, +attempt to retrace his steps. He had pulled up so expertly +that the man escaped, so smoothly that not a +passenger was jarred, and now he sat with a dazed and +vacant expression on his face, leaning forward on his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span>steering wheel, while caustic inquiry and retort winged +unheeded up and down the line behind him.</p> + +<p class='c011'>It was not until the indispensable ceremony of everyone +taking everyone else’s name and number had been +observed under the authority of the tutelary constable +that the single occupant of the private car stirred to +show any interest in the proceedings.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Parkinson,” he called quietly, summoning his attendant +to the window. “Ask Mr Tulloch if he will +come round here when he has finished with the policeman.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr Tulloch, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; you remember Dr Tulloch of Netherhempsfield? +He is on in front there.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>A moment later Jim Tulloch, as genial as of old, but +his exuberance temporarily damped by the cross-bickering +in which he had just been involved, thrust his +head and arm through the sash.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Lord, lord, it really is you then, Wynn, old man?” +he cried. “When your Parkinson came up I couldn’t +believe it for a minute, simply couldn’t believe it. The +world grows smaller, I declare.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“At all events this car does,” responded Carrados, +wringing the hearty, outstretched hand. “They’ve got +us two inches less than the makers ever intended. Is +it really your doing, Jim?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Did ever you hear such a thing?” protested Tulloch. +“And yet that wall-eyed atrocity yonder has kidded +the copper that if he hadn’t stopped dead—well, I +should.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Was it a near thing?” asked Carrados confidentially.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, strictly between ourselves, I don’t mind admitting +that it might have been something of a shave,” +confessed Tulloch, with a cheerful grin. “But, lord +<span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span>bless you, Wynn, the streets of London are paved with +’em nowadays, paved with them. You don’t merely +take your life in your hands if you want to get about; +you carry it on each foot.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Look here,” said Carrados. “You never let me +know that you were up in town, Tulloch. What are +you doing to-day?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I beg your pardon, sir,” interrupted Parkinson’s +respectful voice, “but the policeman wishes to speak +with you, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“With me?” queried Tulloch restlessly. “Oh, good +lord! have we to go into all that again?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s only the bus-driver, sir,” apologised the constable +with the tactful deference that the circumstances +seemed to demand. “As you are a doctor—I think +there’s something the matter with him.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m sure there is,” assented Tulloch. “All right, +I’m coming. Are you in a hurry, Wynn?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’ll wait,” was the reply.</p> + +<p class='c011'>The doctor found his patient propped up on a doorstep. +Having, as he expressed it afterwards, “run the +rule over him,” he prescribed a glass of water and an +hour’s rest. The man was shaken, that was all.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Nerves, Wynn,” he announced when he returned to +his friend. “I don’t quite understand his emotion, but +the shock of not having run over me seems to have +upset the poor fellow.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I was asking you whether you were doing anything +to-day,” said Carrados. “Can you come back with me +to Richmond?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m not doing anything as far as that goes,” admitted +Tulloch. “In fact,” he added ruefully, “that’s +the plague of it. I’m waiting to hear from a man who’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_324'>324</span>waiting to hear from another man, and <em>he’s</em> depending +on something that may or mayn’t, you understand.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then you can come along now anyway. Get in.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If it’s dinner you mean, I can’t come straight away, +you know,” protested Tulloch. “Look at me togs”—he +stood back to display a serviceable Norfolk suit—“all +right for the six-thirty sharp of a Bloomsbury +boarding-house, but—eh, what?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Don’t be an ass, Jim,” said the blind man amiably. +“I can’t see your silly togs.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No ladies or any of your tony friends?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not a soul.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The fact is,” confided Tulloch, taking his place in +the car, “I’ve been out of things for a bit, Wynn, and +I’m finding civilisation a shade cast-iron now. I’ve +been down in the wilds since you were with me.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I wondered where you were. I wrote to you about +six months ago and the letter came back.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Did it actually? Now that must have been almighty +careless of someone, Wynn. I’m sorry; I’m a +bit of a rolling stone, I suppose. When Darrish came +back to Netherhempsfield my job was done there. I +felt uncommonly restless. I hadn’t much chance of +buying a practice or dropping into a partnership worth +having and I jibbed at setting up in some God-forsaken +backwater and slipping into middle age ‘building up a +connection.’ Lord, lord, Carrados, the tragic monotony +of your elderly professional nonentity! I’ve known +men who’ve whispered to me between the pulls at confidential +pipes that they’ve come to hate the streets and +the houses and the same old everlasting silly faces that +they met day after day until they began to think very +queer thoughts of how they might get away from it all.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” said Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span>“Anyway, ‘Not yet,’ I promised myself, and when I +got the chance of a temporary thing on a Red Cable +liner I took it like a shot. That was something. If +there was a mighty sameness about it after a bit, it +wasn’t the sameness I’d been accustomed to. Then, as +luck of one sort or another would have it, I got laid out +with a broken ankle on a Bombay quay.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados voiced commiseration.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But you made a very good mend of it,” he said. +“It’s the left, of course. I don’t suppose anyone ever +notices it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I took care of that,” replied Tulloch. “But it was +a slow business and threw all my plans out. I was on +a very loose end when one day, outside the Secretariat, +as they call it, I ran up against a man called Fraser +whom I’d known building a viaduct or something of +that sort in the Black Country.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘What on earth are <em>you</em> doing here?’ we naturally +both said at once, and he was the first to reply.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘I’m just off to repair an irrigation “bund” a thousand +miles more or less away, and I’m looking for a +doctor who can speak six words of Hindustani, and +doesn’t mind things as they are, to physic the camp. +What are you doing?’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Good lord! old man,’ I said, ‘I was looking for +you!’”</p> + +<p class='c011'>It only required an occasional word to keep Tulloch +going, and Carrados supplied it. He heard much that +did not interest him—of the journey inland, of the face +of the country, the surprising weather, the great work +of irrigation and the other impressive wonders of man +and nature. These things could be got from books, +but among the weightier cargo Tulloch now and again +<span class='pageno' id='Page_326'>326</span>touched off some inimitable phase of life or told an uninventable +anecdote of native character that lived.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Yet the buoyant doctor had something on his mind, +for several times he stopped abruptly on the edge of a +reminiscence, as though he was doubtful, if not of the +matter, at least of the manner in which he should begin. +These indications were not lost on his friend, but +Carrados made no attempt to press him, being very well +assured that sooner or later the ingenuous Jim would +find himself beyond retreat. The occasion came with +the cigarettes after dinner. There had been a reference +to the language.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I often wished that I was a better stick at it,” said +Tulloch. “I’d picked up a bit in Bombay and of course +I threw myself into it when Fraser got me the post. I +managed pretty well with the coolies in the camp, but +when I tried to have a word with the ryots living round—little +twopenny ha’penny farmers, you know—I +could make no show of it. A lot of queer fish you come +across out there, in one way or another, you take my +word. You never know whether a man’s a professional +saint of extreme holiness or a hereditary body-snatcher +whose shadow would make a begging leper consider +himself unclean until he had walked seventy miles to +drink a cupful of filthy water out of a stinking pond +that a pock-marked ascetic had been sitting in for three +years in order to contemplate quietly.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Possibly he really was unclean—in consequence or +otherwise,” suggested Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Help!” exclaimed Tulloch tragically. “There are +things that have to be seen. But then so was the +sanctified image, so that there’s nothing for an outsider +to go by. And then all the different little lots with their +own particular little heavens and their own one exclusive +<span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span>way of getting there, and their social frills and +furbelows—Jats and Jains and Thugs and Mairs and +Gonds and Bhills and Toms, Dicks and Harrys—suburban +society is nothing to it, Wynn, nothing at all. +There was a strange old joker I’ve had in mind to tell +you about, though it was no joke for him in the end. +God alone knows where he came from, but he was in +the camp one evening juggling for stray coppers in a +bowl. Pretty good juggling too it seemed to be, of the +usual Indian kind—growing a plant out of a pumpkin +seed, turning a stick into a live snake, and the old sword +and basket trick that every Eastern conjurer keeps up +his sleeve; but all done out in the open, with people +squatting round and a simplicity of appliance that +would have taken all the curl out of one of your music-hall +magicians. With him he had a boy, his son, a misshapen, +monkey-like anatomy of about ten, but there +was no doubt that the man was desperately fond of his +unattractive offspring.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That night this ungainly urchin, taking a cooler in +one of the big irrigation canals, got laid hold of by an +alligator and raised the most unearthly screech anything +human—if he really was human—ever got out. +I seemed to have had something prominent to do with +the damp job of getting as much of him away from the +creature as we could, and old Calico—that’s what we +anglicised the juggler’s name into—had some sort of +idea of being grateful in consequence. Although I don’t +doubt that he’d have put much more faith in a local +wizard if one had been available, he let us take the boy +into the hospital tent and do what we could for him. It +wasn’t much, and I told my assistant to break it to poor +old Calico that he must be prepared for the worst. A +handy man, that assistant, Wynn. He was a half-bred +<span class='pageno' id='Page_328'>328</span>‘Portugoose,’ as they say in Bombay, with the name of +Vasque d’Almeydo, and I understood that he’d had +some training. When we got out there he said that it +was all the same to him, but he admitted quite blandly +that he was really a cook and nothing more. What +about his excellent testimonials? I asked him, and he +replied with cheerful impenitence that he had hired +them in the open market for one rupee eight, adding +feelingly that he would willingly have given twice as +much to qualify for my honorable service. In the end +he did pretty much as he liked, and as he could speak +five languages and scramble through seven dialects I +was glad to have him about on any terms. I don’t +quite know how he broke it, but when I saw him later +he said that Calico was a ‘great dam fool.’ He was a +conjurer and knew how tricks were done and yet he +had set out at once for some place thirty miles away—to +procure a charm of some sort, the Portuguese would +swear from a hint he had got. Vasque—of course by +this time he’d become Valasquez to us—laughed pleasantly +as he commented on native credulity. He was +a Roman Catholic himself, so that he could afford it. +The next day the boy died and an hour later poor Calico +came reeling in. He’d got a nasty cut over the eye and a +map of the route drawn over him in thorns and blisters +and sand-burns, but he’d got something wrapped away +in a bit of rag carried in the left armpit, and I felt for +the poor old heathen. When he understood, he borrowed +a spade and, taking up the child just as he was, +he went off into the pagan solitude to bury him. I’d +got used to these simple ways by that time.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I thought that I’d seen the end of the incident, but +late that night I heard the sentry outside challenge +someone—we’d had so many tools and things looted by +<span class='pageno' id='Page_329'>329</span>‘friendlies’ that they’d lent us half a company of Sikhs +from Kharikhas—and a moment later Calico was +salaaming at the tent door. As it happened, Valasquez +was away at a thing they called a village trafficking for +some ducks, and I had to grapple with the conversation +as best I could—no joke, I may tell you, for the juggler’s +grasp on conventional Urdu was about as slender +as my own. And the first thing he did was to put his +paws on to my astonished feet, then up to his forehead, +and to prostrate himself to the ground.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Sahib,’ he protested earnestly, ‘I am thy slave and +docile elephant for that which thou hast done for the +man-child of my house.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Now you know, Carrados, I simply can’t stand that +sort of thing. It makes me feel such a colossal ass. +So I tried, ungraciously enough I dare swear, to cut +him short. But it couldn’t be done. Poor old Calico +had come to discharge what weighed on him as a formidable +obligation and my ‘Don’t mention it, old chap,’ +style was quite out of the picture. Finally, from some +obscure fold of his outfit, he produced a little screw +of cloth and began to unwrap it.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Take it, O sahib, and treasure it as you would a +cup of water in the desert, for it has great virtue of +the hidden kind. Condescend to accept it, for it is all +I have worthy of so great a burden.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘I couldn’t think of it, Khaligar,’ I said, trying to +give his name a romantic twist, for the other sounded +like guying him. ‘I’ve done nothing, you know, and +in any case this is much more likely to work with you +than with me—an unbeliever. What is it, anyway?’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘It is the sacred tooth of the ape-god Hanuman <a id='tn-itprotects'></a>and +it protects from harm,’ he replied, reverently displaying +what looked to me like an old rusty nail. ‘Had I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span>but been able to touch so much as the hem of the garment +of my manlet with it before the hour of his outgoing +he would assuredly have recovered.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Then keep it for your own protection,’ I urged. +<a id='tn-runmorerisks'></a>‘I expect that you run more risks than I do.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘When the flame has been extinguished from a +candle the smoke lingers but a moment before it also +fades away,’ he replied. ‘Thy mean servant has no +wish to live now that the light of his eyes has gone out, +nor does he seek to avert by magic that which is written +on his forehead.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Then it is witchcraft?’ I said, pointing to the +amulet.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘I know not, my lord,’ he answered; ‘but if it be +witchcraft it is of the honourable sort and not the goety +of Sahitan. For this cause it is only of avail to one who +acquires it without treachery or guile. Take it, sahib, +but do not suffer it to become known even to those of +your own table.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Why not?’ I asked.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Who should boast of pearls in a camp of armed +bandits?’ he replied evasively. ‘A word spoken in a +locked closet becomes a beacon on the hill-top for men +to see. Yet have no fear; harm cannot come to you, +for your hand is free from complicity.’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I hadn’t wanted the thing before, but that settled +me. I very much doubted how the conjurer had got +possession of it and I had no wish to be mixed up in +an affair of any sort. I told him definitely that while +I appreciated his motives I shouldn’t deprive him of +so great a treasure. He seemed really concerned, and +Fraser told me afterwards that for one of that tribe to +be under what he regarded as an unrequited obligation +was a dishonour. I should probably have had some +<span class='pageno' id='Page_331'>331</span>trouble to get him off, only just then we heard Valasquez +returning. Calico hastily wrapped up the relic, +stowed it away among his wardrobe and, with his most +ceremonious salaam, disappeared.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘Do you know anything about the tooth of the ape-god +Hanuman, Valasquez?’ I asked him some time +later. The ‘Portugoose’ seemed to know a little about +everything and in consequence of my dependence on +him he strayed into a rather more free and easy manner +than might have passed under other conditions. But +I’m not ceremonious, you know, Wynn.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>And Carrados laughed and agreed.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘The sacred tooth of Sira Hanuman, sir?’ said +Valasquez. ‘Oh, that’s all great tom dam foolery. +There are a hundred million of them. The most notable +one was worshipped at the Mountain of Adam in +Ceylon until it was captured by my ancestor, the illustrious +Admiral d’Almeydo, who sent it with much +pomp and circumstance to Goa. Then the Princes of +Malabar offered a ransom of rupees, forty lakhs, for it, +which the Bishop of Goa refused, like a dam great +fool!’</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘What became of it?’ I asked, but Valasquez +didn’t know. He was somewhat of a liar, in fact, and +I dare say that he’d made it all up to show off his knowledge.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No,” objected Carrados; “I think that Baldæus, +the Dutch historian, has a similar tale. What happened +to Calico?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That was the worst of it. Some of our men found +his body lying among the tamarisk scrub two days later. +There was no doubt that he’d been murdered, and not +content with that, the ghouls had mutilated him shamefully +afterwards. Even his cheeks were slashed open. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_332'>332</span>So, you see, the tooth of Hanuman had not protected +him.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No,” assented Carrados, “it had certainly not protected +him. Was anything done—anyone arrested?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t think so. You know what the natives are +in a case like that: no one knows anything, even if they +have been looking on at the time. I suppose a report +would be sent up, but I never heard anything more. I +always had a suspicion that Calico, with his blend of +simple faith and gipsy blood, had violated a temple, +or looted a shrine, to save his son’s life, and that the +guardians of the relic tracked him and revenged the +outrage. Anyway, I was glad that I hadn’t accepted it +after that, for I had enough excitement without.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What was that, Jim?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, I don’t know, but I always seemed to be running +up against something about that time. Twice my +tent was turned inside out in my absence, once my +clothes were spirited away while I was bathing, and the +night before we broke up the camp I was within an ace +of being murdered.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You bear a charmed life,” said Carrados suggestively, +but Tulloch did not rise to the suggestion.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It was a bit of luck. Those dacoits are as quiet as +death, but for some reason I woke suddenly with the +idea that devilment was brewing. I slipped on the first +few things that came to hand and went to reconnoitre. +As I passed through the canvas I came face to face with +a native, and two others were only a few yards behind. +Without any ceremony the near man let drive at my +throat with one of those beastly wavy daggers they go +in for. I suppose I managed to dodge in the fraction of +a second, for he missed me. I gave a yell for assistance, +landed the leader one in the eye and backed into my +<span class='pageno' id='Page_333'>333</span>tent for a weapon. By the time I was out again our +fellows were running up, but the precious trio had disappeared.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That was the last you saw of them?” asked Carrados +tentatively.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, queerly enough. The day I sailed I encountered +the one whose eye I had touched up. It was +down by the water—the Apollo Bander—at Bombay, +and I was so taken aback, never thinking but that the +fellow was hundreds of miles away that I did nothing +but stare. But I promised myself that in the unlikely +event of ever seeing him again I would follow him up +pretty sharply.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not under the wheels of a London General again, +I hope!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Tulloch’s brown fist came down upon the table with +a crash.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The devil, Carrados!” he exclaimed. “How did +you know?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Parkinson was just describing to me a rather exotic +figure. Then the rest followed.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well you were right. There was the man in Holborn, +and of all the fantastic things in the world for a +bloodthirsty thug from the back wilds of Hindustan, +I believe that he was selling picture post cards!”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Possibly a very natural thing to be doing in the +circumstances.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What circumstances, Wynn?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Those you are telling me of. Go on.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That’s about all there is. When I saw the man I +was so excited, I suppose, that I started to dash across +without another thought. You know the result. Of +course he had vanished by the time I could look round.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You are quite sure he is the same?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_334'>334</span>“There’s always the possibility of a mistake, I admit,” +considered Tulloch, “but, speaking in ordinary +terms, I should say that it’s a moral certainty. On the +first occasion it was bright moonlight and the sensational +attack left a very vivid photograph on my mind. +In Bombay I had no suspicion of doubt about the +man, and he was still carrying traces of my fist. Here, +it is true, I had less chance of observing him, but recognition +was equally instantaneous and complete. Then +consider that each time he has slipped away at once. +No, I am not mistaken. What is he after, Carrados?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am very much afraid that he is after you, my +friend,” replied Carrados, with some concern lurking +behind the half-amused level of his voice.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“After me!” exclaimed Tulloch with righteous indignation. +“Why, confound his nerve, Wynn, it ought +to be the other way about. What’s he after me for?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“India is a conservative land. The gods do not +change. A relic that was apprised at seven hundred +thousand ducats in the days of Queen Elizabeth is +worth following up to-day—apart, of course, from the +merit thereby acquired by a devotee.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You mean that Calico’s charm was the real original +thing that Valasquez spoke of?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is quite possible; or it may be claimed for it even +if it is not. Goa has passed through many vicissitudes; +its churches and palaces are now in ruins. What is +more credible——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But in any case I haven’t got the thing. Surely +the old ass needn’t murder me to find out that.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The face he appealed to betrayed nothing of the +thoughts behind it. But Carrados’s mind was busy +with every detail of the story he had heard, and the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_335'>335</span>more he looked into it the less he felt at ease for his +impetuous friend’s safety.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“On the contrary,” he replied, “from the pious believer’s +point of view, the simplest and most effective +way of ascertaining it was to try to murder you, and +your providential escape has only convinced them that +you are now the holder of the charm.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The deuce!” said Tulloch ruefully. “Then I have +dropped into an imbroglio after all. What’s to be +done?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I wonder,” mused the blind man speculatively, “I +wonder what really became of the thing.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You mean after Calico’s death?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, before that. I don’t imagine that your entertaining +friend had it at the end. He had nothing to +look forward to, you remember; he did not wish to live. +His assassins were those who were concerned in the +recovery of the relic, for why else was he mutilated but +in order to discover whether he had concealed it with +more than superficial craft—perhaps even swallowed it? +They found nothing or you would not have engaged +their attention. As it was, they were baffled and had to +investigate further. Then they doubtless learned that +you had put this man under an undying obligation, +possibly they even knew that he had visited you the last +thing before he left the camp. The rest has been the +natural sequence.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It seems likely enough in an incredible sort of way,” +admitted the doctor. “But I don’t see why this old +sport should be occupying himself as he is in the streets +of London.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That remains to be looked into. It may be some +propitiatory form of self-abasement that is so potent in +the Oriental system. But it may equally well be something +<span class='pageno' id='Page_336'>336</span>quite different. If this man is of high priestly +authority there are hundreds of his co-religionists here +at hand whose lives he could command in such a service. +He may be in communication with some, or be contriving +to make himself readily accessible. Are there any +Indians at your boarding-house?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I have certainly seen a couple recently.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Recently! Then they came after you did?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t know about that. I haven’t had much to +do with the place.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I don’t like it, Jim,” said Carrados, with more +gravity than he was accustomed to put into the +consideration of his own risks. “I don’t like the hang +of it at all.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, for that matter, I’m not exactly pining for +trouble,” replied his friend. “But I can take care of +myself anyway.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But you can’t,” retorted Carrados. “That’s just +the danger. If you were blind it would be all right, but +your credulous, self-opinionated eyes will land you in +some mess.… To-morrow, at all events, Carlyle +shall put a watch on this enterprising Hindu and we +shall at least find out what his movements are.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Tulloch would have declined the attention, but +Carrados was insistent.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You must let me have my way in such an emergency, +Tulloch,” he declared. “Of course you would +say that it’s out of your power to prevent me, but +among friends like you and I one acquiesces to a certain +code. I say this because I may even find it necessary +to put a man on you as well. This business +attracts me resistlessly. There’s something more in it +than we have got at yet, something that lies beyond the +senses and strives to communicate itself through the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_337'>337</span>unknown dimension that we have all stood just upon the +threshold of, only to find that we have lost the key. +It’s more elusive than Macbeth’s dagger: ‘I have thee +not and yet I see thee still’—always just out of reach. +What is it, Jim; can’t you help us? Don’t you feel +something portentous in the air, or is it only my blind +eyes that can see beyond?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not a bit of it,” laughed Tulloch cheerfully. “I +only feel that a blighted old heathen is leading himself +a rotten dance through his pig-headed obstinacy. Well, +Wynn, why can’t he be rounded up and have it explained +that he’s on the wrong tack? I don’t mind +crying quits. I did get in a sweet one on the eye, and +he’s had a long journey for nothing. Eh, what?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He would not believe.” Carrados was pacing the +room in one of his rare periods of mental tension. Instinct, +judgment, experience and a subtler prescience +that enveloped reason seemed at variance in his mind. +Then he swung round and faced his visitor.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Look here, Tulloch, stay with me for the present,” +he urged. “You can go there for your things to-morrow +and I can fix you up in the meantime. It’s safer; +I feel it will be safer.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Safer! Good lord! what could you have safer than +a stodgy second-rate boarding-house in Hapsburg +Square? The place drones respectability. Miss Vole, +the landlady, is related to an archdeacon and nearly all +the people there are on half-pay. The two Indians are +tame baboos. Besides, if I get this thing I told you of, +I shall be off to South America in a few days, and that +ought to shake off this old man of the tooth.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Of course it won’t; nothing will shake him off if +he’s made the vow. Well, have your own way. One +can’t expect a doctor of robust habit to take any reasonable +<span class='pageno' id='Page_338'>338</span>precautions, I know. How is your room situated?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Pretty high up. Next to the attics, I imagine. It +must be, because there is a little trap-door in the ceiling +leading there.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“A trap-door leading to the attics! Well, at all +events there can’t be an oubliette, I suppose? Nor a +four-post bed with a canopy that slides up and down, +Jim; nor a revolving wardrobe before a secret passage +in the oak panels?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Get on with you,” retorted Tulloch. “It’s just the +ordinary contrivance that you find somewhere in every +roof when the attics aren’t made into rooms. There’s +nothing in it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Possibly; but there may be some time. Anyway, +drive a tack in and hang up a tin can or something that +must clatter down if the door is raised an inch. You +have a weapon, I suppose?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Now you’re talking, Wynn. I do put some faith in +that. I have a grand little revolver in my bag and I +can sleep like a feather when I want.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Little? What size does it take?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, well, it’s a .320, if it comes to that. I prefer a +moderate bore myself.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados opened a drawer of his desk and picked up +half-a-dozen brass cartridges.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“When you get back, throw out the old ones and +reload with these to oblige me,” he said. “Don’t +forget.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Right,” assented Tulloch, examining them with interest; +“but they look just like mine. What are they?—something +new?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not at all; but we know that they are charged and +you can rely on them going off if they are fired.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What a chap you are,” declared Tulloch with something +<span class='pageno' id='Page_339'>339</span>of the admiring pity that summed up the general +attitude towards Max Carrados. “Well, for that matter, +I must be going off myself, old man. I’m hoping +for a letter about that little job and if it comes I want +to answer it to-night. You’ve given me a fine time +and we’ve had a great talk.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m glad we met. And if you go away suddenly +don’t leave it to chance the next time you are back.” +He did not seek to detain his guest, for he knew that +Tulloch was building somewhat on the South American +appointment. “Shall Harris run you home?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not a bit of it. I’ll enjoy a walk to the station, and +these Tubes of yours’ll land me within me loose-box by +eleven. It’s a fine place, this London, after all.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>They had reached the front door, opened it and were +standing for a moment looking towards the yellow cloud +that arched the west end of the city like the mirage of a +dawn.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, good-bye, old man,” said Tulloch heartily, +and they shook hands. At the touch an extraordinary +impulse swept over Carrados to drag his friend back +into the house, to implore him to remain the night at all +events, or to do something to upset the arranged order +of things for the next few hours. With the cessation +of physical contact the vehemence of the possession +dwindled away, but the experience, short as it was, left +him white and shaken. He could not trust himself to +speak; he waved his hand and, turning quickly, went +back to the room where they had sat together to analyse +the situation and to determine how to act. Presently +he rang for his man.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Some notes were taken after that little touch in +Holborn this afternoon, Parkinson,” he said. “Have +<span class='pageno' id='Page_340'>340</span>you the address of the leading motor-bus driver among +them?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The London General, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; the man who was the first to stop.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson produced his memorandum book and referred +to the latest of its entries.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He gave his private residence as 14 Cogg’s Lane, +Brentford, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Brentford! That is fortunate. I am going to see +him to-night if possible. You will come with me, +Parkinson. Tell Harris to get out the car that is the +most convenient. What is the time?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ten-seventeen, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“We will start in fifteen minutes. In the meanwhile +just reach me down that large book labelled ‘Xavier’ +from the top shelf there.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir. Very well, sir. I will convey your instructions +to Harris, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>It was perhaps rather late for a casual evening call, +but not, apparently, too late for Cogg’s Lane, Brentford. +Mr Fitzwilliam—Parkinson had infused a faint note of +protest into his voice when he mentioned the bus-driver’s +name—Mr Fitzwilliam was out, but Mrs Fitzwilliam +received the visitor with conspicuous felicity +and explained the circumstances. Fitzwilliam was of +a genial, even playful, disposition, but he had come +home brooding and depressed. Mrs Fitzwilliam had +not taken any notice of it—she put it down to his feet—but +by cajolery and innuendo she had persuaded him to +go to the picture palace to be cheered up, and as it was +now on the turn of eleven he might be expected back at +any moment. In the meantime the lady had a favourite +niece who was suffering—as the doctor himself confessed—from +a very severe and unusual form of adenoids. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_341'>341</span>Carrados disclosed the fact that the subject +of adenoids was one that interested him deeply. He +knew, indeed, of a case that was thought by the patient’s +parents to be something out of the way, but even it, he +admitted, was commonplace by the side of the favourite +niece. The minutes winged.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That’s Fred,” said Mrs Fitzwilliam as the iron gate +beyond the little plot of beaten earth that had once +been a garden gave its individual note. “Seems strange +that they should be so ignorant at a hospital, doesn’t +it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Hallo, what now?” demanded Mr Fitzwilliam, +entering.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Mrs Fitzwilliam made a sufficient introduction and +waited for the interest to develop. So far the point of +Carrados’s visit had not appeared.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I believe that you know something about motors?” +inquired the blind man.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, what if I do?” retorted the bus-driver. His +attitude was protective rather than intentionally offensive.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“If you do, I should be glad if you would look at the +engine of my car. It got shaken, I fancy, in a slight +accident that we had in Holborn this afternoon.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh!” The driver looked hard at Mr Carrados, but +failed to get behind an expression of mild urbanity. +“Why didn’t you say so at first?” he grumbled. “All +right; I’ll trot round with you. Shan’t be long, missis.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>He led the way out and closed the door behind them, +not ceasing to regard his visitor with a distrustful +curiosity. At the gate he stopped, having by that time +brought his mind round to the requirements of the +situation, and faced Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Look here,” he said, “what’s up? You don’t want +<span class='pageno' id='Page_342'>342</span>me to look at no bloomin’ engine, you know. I don’t +half like the whole bally business, let me tell you. +What’s the gaime?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s a very simple game for you if you play it +straightforwardly,” answered Carrados. “I want to +know just how much you had to do with saving that +man’s life in Holborn to-day.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Fitzwilliam instinctively fell back a step and his +gaze on Carrados quickened in its tensity.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What d’yer mean?” he demanded with a quality +of apprehension in his voice.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is complicating the game,” replied Carrados +mildly. “You know exactly what I mean.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“And what if I do?” demanded the driver. “What +have you got to do with it, may I ask?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That is very reasonable. I happened to be in the +car following you. We were scraped, but I am not +making any claim for paint whatever happened. I am +satisfied that you did very well indeed in the circumstances, +and if a letter to your people—I know one of +the directors—saying as much would be of any use to +you——”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Now we’re getting on, sir,” was the mollified admission. +“You mustn’t mind a bit of freshness, so to +speak. You took me by surprise, that’s what it was, +and I’ve been wound up ever since that happened.” +He hesitated, and then flung out the question almost +with a passionate directness: “What was it, sir; in +God’s name, what was it?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What was it?” repeated the blind man’s level voice +persuasively.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It wasn’t me. I couldn’t have done nothing. I +didn’t see the man, not in time to have an earthly. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_343'>343</span>Then we stopped. Good Gawd, I’ve never felt a stop +like that before. It was as though a rubber band had +tightened and pulled us up against ten yards squoze into +one, so that you didn’t hardly know it. I hadn’t nothing +to do with it. Not a brake was on, and the throttle +open and the engine running. There we were. And +me half silly.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You did very well,” said Carrados soothingly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I did nothing. If it had been left to me there’d +have been a inquest. You seem to have noticed something, +sir. How do you work it out?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados parried the question with a disingenuous +allusion to the laws of chance. He had not yet worked +it out, but he was not disposed to lay his astonishing +conclusions, so far as they went, before the bus-driver’s +crude discrimination. He had learned what he wanted. +With a liberal acknowledgment of the service and a +reiteration of his promise to write, he bade Mr Fitzwilliam +good-night and returned to his waiting car.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Back home, Harris,” he directed. He had gone +out with some intention of including Hapsburg Square +in his peregrination. He was now assured that his +anxiety was groundless.</p> + +<p class='c011'>But the next morning all his confidence was shattered +in a moment. It was his custom before and during +breakfast to read by touch the headings of the various +items in the newspapers and to mark for Greatorex’s +later reading such paragraphs as claimed his interest. +Generally he could, with some inconvenience, distinguish +even the ordinary type by the same faculty, but +sometimes the inequality of pressure made this a +laborious process. There was no difficulty about the +larger types, however, and with a terrible misgiving +<span class='pageno' id='Page_344'>344</span>finger-tip and brain had at once grasped the significance +of a prominent heading:</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>FATAL GAS EXPLOSION</div> + <div><span class='sc'>Hapsburg Square Boarding-House in Flames</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c011'>“Are you there, Parkinson?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Parkinson could scarcely believe his well-ordered +ears. Not since the early days of his affliction had Carrados +found it necessary to ask such a question.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir, I’m here,” he almost stammered in reply. +“I hope you are not unwell, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I’m all right, thanks,” responded his master dryly—unable +even then not to discover some amusement in +having for once scared Parkinson out of his irreproachable +decorum. “I was mentally elsewhere. I want +you to read me this paragraph.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The one about Dr Tulloch, sir?” The name had +caught the man’s eye at once. “Dear, dear me, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes; go on,” said Carrados, with his nearest approach +to impatience.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘During the early hours of this morning,’” read +Parkinson, “‘52 Hapsburg Square was the scene of a +gas explosion which was unhappily attended by loss of +life. Shortly after midnight the neighbourhood was +alarmed by the noise of a considerable explosion which +appeared to blow out the window and front wall of one +of the upper bedrooms, but as the part in question was +almost immediately involved in flames it is uncertain +what really happened. The residents of the house, +which is a boarding establishment carried on by Miss +Vole (a relative, we are informed, of Archdeacon Vole +of Worpsley), were quickly made aware of their danger +and escaped. The engines arrived within a few minutes +<span class='pageno' id='Page_345'>345</span>of the alarm and soon averted any danger of the fire +spreading. When it was possible to penetrate into the +upper part of the house it was discovered that the +occupant of the bedroom where the explosion took +place, a Dr Tulloch who had only recently returned to +this country from India, had perished. Owing to the +charred state of the body it is impossible to judge how +he died, but in all probability he was mercifully killed +or at least rendered unconscious by the force of the +explosion.’ That is all, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I ought to have kept him,” muttered Carrados reproachfully. +“I ought to have insisted. The thing +has been full of mistakes.” He could discover very +little further interest in his breakfast and turned to the +other papers for possible enlargement of the details. +“We shall have to go down,” he remarked casually. +“Say in half-an-hour. Tell Harris.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Very well, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Greatorex, just arrived for the day, and diffusing +an atmosphere of easy competence and inoffensively +general familiarity, put his head in at the door.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Morning, sir,” he nodded. “Tulloch’s here and +wants to see you. Came in with me. Hullo, Parkinson, +seen a ghost?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He hasn’t yet,” volunteered his master. “But we +both expect to. Yes, send him in here. Only one mistake +the more, you see,” he added to his servant. +“And one the less,” he added to himself.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I might just as well have stayed, you know,” was +Tulloch’s greeting. He included the still qualmish +Parkinson in his genial domination of the room, and +going across to his friend he dropped a weighty hand +upon his shoulder.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“‘There are more things in heaven and earth than in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_346'>346</span>your philosophy, Horatio,’” he barbarously misquoted +with significance. “There, you see, Wynn, I can apply +Shakespeare to the situation as well as you.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Quite so,” assented Carrados. “In the meanwhile +will you have some breakfast?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s what I came in the hopes of,” admitted the +doctor. “That and being burned out of hearth and +home. I thought that I might as well quarter myself +on you for a couple of days. You’ve seen the papers?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>His friend indicated the still open sheet.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah, that one. <cite>The Morning Reporter</cite> gave me a +better obituary. I often had a sort of morbid fancy to +know what they’d say about me afterwards. It seemed +unattainable, but, like most things, it’s a sad disappointment +when it comes. Six lines is the longest, Wynn, +and they’ve got me degree wrong.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Whose was the body?” asked Carrados.</p> + +<p class='c011'>Gravity descended upon Tulloch at the question. He +looked round to make sure that Parkinson had left the +room.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No one will ever know, I’m hoping,” he replied. +“He was charred beyond recognition. But you know, +Wynn, and I know and we can hold our tongues.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“The Indian avenger, of course?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes. I went round there early this morning expecting +nothing and found the place a wreck. One can +only guess now what happened, but the gas-bracket is +just beneath that trap-door I told you of and there’s a +light kept burning in the passage outside. One of the +half-pay men brought me a nasty wavy dagger that had +been picked up in the road. ‘One of your Indian curiosities, +I suppose, Dr Tulloch?’ he remarked. I let it +pass at that, for I was becoming cautious among so +much devilment. ‘I’m afraid that there’s nothing else +<span class='pageno' id='Page_347'>347</span>of yours left,’ he went on, ‘and there wouldn’t have +been this if it hadn’t been blown through the window.’ +He was quite right. I haven’t a thing left in the world +but this now celebrated Norfolk suit that I stand up in, +and, as matters are, I’m jolly well glad you didn’t give +me time to change yesterday.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Ah,” assented Carrados thoughtfully. “Still the +Norfolk suit, of course. Tell me, Jim—you had it in +India?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“To be sure I had. It was new then. You know, +one doesn’t always go about there in white drill and a +cork helmet, as your artists here seem to imagine. It’s +cold sometimes, I can tell you. This coat is warm; I +got very fond of it. You can’t understand one getting +fond of a mere suit, you with your fifty changes of fine +raiment.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Of course I can. I have a favourite jacket that I +would not part from for rubies, and it’s considerably +more of an antique than yours. That’s still a serviceable +suit, Jim. Come and let me have a look at it.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What d’ye mean?” said Tulloch, complying half +reluctantly. “You’re making fun of me little suit and +it’s the only thing in the world that stands between me +and the entire.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Come here,” repeated Carrados. “I am not in the +least guying. I’m far too serious. I am more serious, +I think, than I have ever been in my life before.” He +placed the wondering doctor before him and proceeded +to run a light hand about the details of his garments, +turning him round until the process was complete. +“You wore these clothes when the native you call +Calico came to you that night?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It’s more than likely. The nights were cold.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados seemed strangely moved. He got up, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_348'>348</span>walked to the window, as his custom was, for enlightenment, +and then, after wandering about the room, touching +here and there an object indecisively, he unlocked a +cabinet and slid out a tray of silver coins.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You’ve never seen these, have you?” he asked with +scanty interest.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“No, what are they?” responded Tulloch, looking on.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Pagan art at its highest. The worship of the strong +and beautiful.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Worth a bit?” suggested Tulloch knowingly.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not what they cost.” Carrados shot back the tray +and paced the room again. “You haven’t told me yet +how you were preserved.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“How——?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Last night. You know that you escaped death +again.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I suppose I did. Yes.… And do you know why +I have been hesitating to tell you?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Why?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Because you won’t believe me.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Carrados permitted himself to smile a shade.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Try,” he said laconically.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Well, of course, I quite intended to.… The sober +truth is, Wynn, that I forgot the address and could not +get there. It was the silliest and the simplest thing in +the world. I walked to the station here, booked for +Russell Square and took a train. When I got out there +I started off and then suddenly pulled up. Where was +I going? My mind, I found, on that one point had +developed a perfect blank. All the facts had vanished. +Drum my encephalon how I might, I could not recall +Miss Vole, 52, or Hapsburg Square. Mark you, it +wasn’t loss of memory in the ordinary sense. I remembered +everything else; I knew who I was and what +<span class='pageno' id='Page_349'>349</span>I wanted well enough. Of course the first thing I did +was to turn out my pockets. I had letters, certainly, +but none to that address and nothing else to help me. +‘Very well,’ I said, ‘it’s a silly game, but I’ll walk round +till I find it.’ Had again! I walked for half-an-hour, +but I saw nothing the faintest degree familiar. Then I +saw ‘London Directory Taken Here’ in a pub. window. +‘Good,’ I thought. ‘When I see the name it will all +come back again.’ I went in, had something and +looked through the ‘Streets’ section from beginning to +end.” He shook his head shrewdly. “It didn’t work.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Did it occur to you to ring me up? You’d given +me the address.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It did; and then I thought, ‘No, it’s midnight now’—it +was by then—‘and he may have turned in early +and be asleep.’ Well, things had got to such a pass +that it seemed the simplest move to walk into the first +moderate hotel I came to, pay for my bed and tell them +to wake me at six, and that’s what I did. Now what +do you make of that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That depends,” replied Carrados slowly. “The +scientist would perhaps hint at a telepathic premonition +operating subconsciously through receptive nerve +centres. The sceptic would call it a lucky coincidence. +The Catholic—the devout Catholic—would claim another +miracle.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Oh, come now!” protested Tulloch.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, come now,” struck in Carrados, rising with +decision and moving towards the door. “Come to my +room and then you shall judge for yourself. It’s too +much for any one man to contemplate alone. Come +on.” He walked quickly across the hall to his study, +dismissing Greatorex elsewhere with a word, and motioned +<span class='pageno' id='Page_350'>350</span>the mystified doctor to a chair. Then he locked +the door and sat down himself.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I want you to carry your mind back to that night +in your tent when the native Khaligar, towards whom +you had done an imperishable service, presented himself +before you. By the inexorable ruling of his class +he was your bondsman in service until he had repaid +you in kind. This, Jim, you failed to understand as it +stood vitally to him, for the whole world, two pantheons +and perhaps ten thousand years formed a great gulf +between your mind and his. You would not be repaid, +and yet he wished to die.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>The doctor nodded. “I dare say it comes to that,” +he said.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“He could not die with this debt undischarged. And +so, in the obscurity of your tent, beneath your unsuspecting +eyes, this conjurer did, as he was satisfied, +requite you. You thought you saw him wrap the relic +in its covering. You did not. You thought he put it +back among his dress. He did not. Instead, he slipped +it dexterously between the lining and the cloth of your +own coat at the thick part of a band. You had seen +him do much cleverer things even in the open sunlight.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You don’t say,” exclaimed Tulloch, springing to his +feet, “that even now—”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Wait!” cried the blind man warningly. “Don’t +seek it yet. You have to face a more stupendous +problem first.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“What is that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Three times at least your life has been—as we may +say—miraculously preserved. It was not your doing, +your expertness, my friend.… What is this sacred +relic that once was in its jewelled shrine on the high +altar of the great cathedral at Goa, that opulent archbishopric +<span class='pageno' id='Page_351'>351</span>of the East to which Catholic Portugal in the +sixteenth century sent all that was most effective of +treasure, brain and muscle to conquer the body and +soul of India?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You suggested that it might be the original relic to +which Valasquez had referred.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Not now; only that the natives may have thought +so. What would be more natural than that an ignorant +despoiler should assume the thing which he found the +most closely guarded and the most richly casketed to be +the object for which he himself would have the deepest +veneration?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then I don’t follow you,” said Tulloch.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Because I have the advantage of having turned to +the local and historical records bearing on the circumstances +since you first started me,” Carrados replied. +“For instance, in the year 1582 Akbar, who was a philosopher +and a humorist as well as a model ruler, sent +an invitation to the ‘wise men among the Franks’ at +Goa to journey to Agra, there to meet in public controversy +before him a picked band of Mohammedan +mullas and prove the superiority of their faith. The +challenge was accepted. Abu-l-Fazl records the curious +business and adds a very significant detail. These +Catholic priests, to cut the matter short in the spirit of +the age, offered to walk through a fiery furnace in the +defence of their belief. It came to nothing, because the +other side backed out, but the challenge is suggestive +because, however fond the priesthood of those times was +of putting other people to the ordeal of fire and water, +its members were singularly modest about submitting +to such tests themselves. What mystery was there here, +Tulloch? <a id='tn-selfconfident'></a>What had those priests of Goa that made +them so self-confident?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_352'>352</span>“This relic, you suggest?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes, I do. But, now, what is that relic? A monkey’s +or an ape-god’s tooth, an iron-stained belemnite, +the fragment of a pagan idol—you and I can smile at +that. We are Christians. No matter how unorthodox, +no matter how non-committal our attitude may have +grown, there is upon us the unconscious and hereditary +influence of century after century of blind and implicit +faith. To you and to me, no less than to every member +of the more credent Church of Rome, to everyone who +has listened to the story as a little child, it is only conceivable +that if miraculous virtues reside in anything +inanimate it must pre-eminently be in the close accessories +of that great world’s tragedy, when, as even +secular and unfriendly historians have been driven to +admit, something out of the order of nature did shake +the heavens.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But this,” articulated Tulloch with dry throat, leaning +instinctively forward from the pressure of his coat, +“this—what is it, then?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You described it as looking like a nail,” responded +Carrados. “It is a nail. Rusty, you said, and it could +not well be otherwise than red with rust. And old. +Nearly nineteen hundred years old; quite, perhaps.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>Tulloch came unsteadily to his feet and slowly slipping +off his coat he put it gently away on a table apart +from where they sat.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Is it possible?” he asked in an awestruck whisper. +“Wynn, is it—is it really possible?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It is not only possible,” he heard the blind man’s +more composed voice replying, “but in one aspect it is +even very natural. Physically, we are dealing with an +historical fact. Somewhere on the face of the earth +these things must be enduring; scattered, buried, lost +<span class='pageno' id='Page_353'>353</span>perhaps, but still existent. And among the thousands +of relics that the different churches have made claim to +it would be remarkable indeed if some at least were not +authentic. That is the material aspect.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Yes,” assented Tulloch anxiously, “yes; that is +simple, natural. But the other side, Carrados—the +things that we know have happened—what of that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“That,” replied Carrados, “is for each man to judge +according to his light.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“But you?” persisted Tulloch. “Are you convinced?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I am offered a solution that explains everything +when no other theory will,” replied the blind man +evasively. Then on the top of Tulloch’s unsatisfied +“Ah!” he added: “But there is something else that +confronts you. What are you going to do?” and his +face was towards the table across the room.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Have you thought of that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“It has occurred to me. I wondered how you would +act.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>It was some time before either spoke again. Then +Tulloch broke the silence.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“You can lend me some things?” he asked.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Of course.”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“Then I will decide,” he announced with resolution. +“Whatever we may think, whatever might be urged, I +cannot touch this thing; I dare not even look on it. It +has become too solemn, too awful, in my mind, to be +seen by any man again. To display it, to submit it to +the test of what would be called ‘scientific proof,’ to +have it photographed and ‘written up’—impossible, +incredible! On the other hand, to keep it safely to +myself—no, I cannot do that either. You feel that +with me?”</p> + +<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_354'>354</span>The blind man nodded.</p> + +<p class='c011'>“There is another seemly, reverent way. The opportunity +offers. I found a letter at the house this morning. +I meant to tell you of it. I have got the appointment +that I told you of and in three days I start for +South America. I will take the coat just as it is, weight +it beyond the possibility of recovery and sink it out of +the world in the deepest part of the Atlantic; beyond +controversy, and safe from falling to any ignoble use. +You can supply me with a box and lead. You approve +of that?”</p> + +<p class='c011'>“I will help you,” said Carrados, rising.</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c003'> + <div>THE END</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> +<div> + +<p class='c004'></p> + +</div> +<div class='transcribers-notes'> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><span class='xlarge'>Transcriber’s Notes</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c010'>New original cover art included with this ebook is granted to the public domain.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The following changes and corrections have been made:</p> + <ul class='ul_1'> + <li><a href='#tn-mrmarrable'>p. 37</a>: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “Mr Marrable started + rather violently.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-fusillade'>p. 39</a>: Changed “fusilade” to “fusillade” in phrase “the fusillade + shrivelled away.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-mrmarrable2'>p. 40</a>: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “Mr Marrable.… Lot 192, + <cite>History and Antiquities of the County, etc.</cite>” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-dillworthy'>p. 47</a>: Changed “Dr Dillworthy” to “Mr Dillworthy” in phrase “What was + the next lot that Mr Dillworthy bought?” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-pullhismanup'>p. 60</a>: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “Mr Carlyle did not pull + his man up in a few weeks.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-shred'>p. 62</a>: Changed “shread” to “shred” in phrase “did not leave behind him one + solitary shred of evidence.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-modestly'>p. 78</a>: Added period after phrase “admitted Beedel modestly.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-whatwas'>p. 108</a>: Moved question mark inside closing single quotation mark in + phrase “‘What was?’ I asked.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-sincetuesday'>p. 110</a>: Added opening single quotation mark before phrase “It isn’t + since Tuesday, sir.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-thejudge'>p. 123</a>: Added em-dash after “monument” in phrase “the most important + monument—the Judge.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-indicator'>p. 148</a>: Added closing double quotation mark after phrase “I have only + seen something in the <cite>Indicator</cite>.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-mrsdupreen'>p. 149</a>: Removed period after “Mrs” in phrase “Mrs Dupreen was by no + means in easy circumstances.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-boughtit'>p. 153</a>: Changed “be” to “he” in phrase “Where had he bought it?” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-trenion'>p. 158</a>: Changed “Steet” to “Street” in phrase “the point nearest Trenion + Street.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-mrlightcraft'>p. 160</a>: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “Mr Lightcraft will + know how to administer it.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-cannot'>p. 176</a>: Changed “canont” to “cannot” in phrase “that this confident, + suspicious man cannot see her now.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-withdecision'>p. 198</a>: Added period after phrase “interposed his employer with + decision.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-mrbelting'>p. 205</a>: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “I’ll tell you what it is, + Mr Belting.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-upraised'>p. 213</a>: Changed “uprasied” to “upraised” in phrase “he said with + upraised hand.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-monthor'>p. 217</a>: Changed single to double closing double quotation mark after + phrase “You haven’t given me the chance of playing host for a month or more.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-superfluous'>p. 223</a>: Removed duplicate “a” in phrase “a piece of superfluous + honesty.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-hadnoone'>p. 229</a>: Changed triple to double closing double quotation mark after + phrase “We’ve had no one from there anyway.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-focussed'>p. 234</a>: Changed “the the” to “on the” in phrase “and then focussed on + the column.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-sipping'>p. 235</a>: Added “of” in phrase “the mere act of sipping.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-mrcarlyle'>p. 247</a>: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “declared Mr Carlyle with + warm approval as the door closed.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-troubled'>p. 250</a>: Added opening double quotation mark before phrase “You seem + troubled, Parkinson.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-profound'>p. 255</a>: Changed “profund” to “profound” in phrase “the general + atmosphere of profound somnolence that enveloped the Metaphysical.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-strathblane'>p. 262</a>: Changed “Strathbane” to “Strathblane” in phrase “Carrados’s + car drew up at Strathblane Lodge.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-mrspinola'>p. 263</a>: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “Mr Carrados happens to be + blind, Mr Spinola.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-mrcarrados'>p. 268</a>: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “If you had no conscience + you would be a dangerous opponent, Mr Carrados.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-mrcarrados2'>p. 276</a>: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “you have been too + clever for an old man, Mr Carrados?” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-mrspinola2'>p. 263</a>: Removed period after “Mr” in phrase “you have surpassed the + dreams of Babbage, Mr Spinola.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-notguilty'>p. 284</a>: Added opening double quotation mark before phrase “Not guilty, + my lord!” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-revbyam'>p. 295</a>: Added period after “Rev.” in phrase “The Rev. Byam Hosier, the + senior curate.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-whatmayhappen'>p. 318</a>: Added period after phrase “One never knows what may happen + next.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-itprotects'>p. 329</a>: Changed “its” to “it” in phrase “and it protects from harm.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-runmorerisks'>p. 330</a>: Changed “that I do” to “than I do” in phrase “I expect that + you run more risks than I do.” + </li> + <li><a href='#tn-selfconfident'>p. 351</a>: Changed “selfconfident” to “self-confident” in phrase + “What had those priests of Goa that made them so self-confident?” + + </li> + </ul> + +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77788 ***</div> + </body> + <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57i (with regex) on 2026-01-26 14:52:56 GMT --> +</html> diff --git a/77788-h/images/cover.jpg b/77788-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..91cc1cd --- /dev/null +++ b/77788-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/77788-h/images/gdh-logo.jpg b/77788-h/images/gdh-logo.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ed1532f --- /dev/null +++ b/77788-h/images/gdh-logo.jpg diff --git a/77788-h/images/ghd-cursive.jpg b/77788-h/images/ghd-cursive.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..89f811a --- /dev/null +++ b/77788-h/images/ghd-cursive.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, 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..48d1889 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #77788 +(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/77788) |
