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diff --git a/78899-h/78899-h.htm b/78899-h/78899-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a69f3f8 --- /dev/null +++ b/78899-h/78899-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13709 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + +<head> + +<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + +<link rel="icon" href="images/img-cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + +<meta charset="utf-8"> + +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of By Foul Means, by Patrick Leyton +</title> + +<style> +body { color: black; + background: white; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +p {text-indent: 1.5em } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 200%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t3 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center } + +p.t3b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center } + +p.t4b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t5 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 60%; + text-align: center } + +h1 { text-align: center } +h2 { text-align: center; font-size: 100% } +h3 { text-align: center } +h4 { text-align: center } +h5 { text-align: center } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +p.thought {text-indent: 0% ; + letter-spacing: 2em ; + text-align: center } + +p.letter {text-indent: 1.5em; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +.smcap { font-variant: small-caps } + +p.transnote {text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.quote {text-indent: 4% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</style> + +</head> + + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78899 ***</div> + + +<h1> +<br><br> + <i>By Foul Means</i><br> +</h1> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + <i>by</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="t2"> + PATRICK LEYTON<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + MYSTERY LIBRARY<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + WORLD LIBRARY GUILD<br> + NEW YORK<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> + Reprinted in the United States by special arrangement<br> + with the English Publishers<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> + <i>Copyright</i>, MCMXXIX, <i>by</i><br> + THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING CO.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> + <i>Printed in the United States of America<br> + by</i><br> + THE COMMERCIAL BOOKBINDING CO.<br> + CLEVELAND, OHIO<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="noindent"> + Contents<br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + I. <a href="#chap01">A Tragedy Recalled</a><br> + II. <a href="#chap02">Ardenmore</a><br> + III. <a href="#chap03">The Scrap of Paper</a><br> + IV. <a href="#chap04">A Light in the Tower</a><br> + V. <a href="#chap05">Smugglers?</a><br> + VI. <a href="#chap06">A Friend in Need</a><br> + VII. <a href="#chap07">A Talk with Inspector Mackay</a><br> + VIII. <a href="#chap08">The Message in the Papers</a><br> + IX. <a href="#chap09">An Engaging Young Criminal</a><br> + X. <a href="#chap10">A Telegram from Bessington</a><br> + XI. <a href="#chap11">Suspicions</a><br> + XII. <a href="#chap12">Richard Bessington on the Scene</a><br> + XIII. <a href="#chap13">The Bargain</a><br> + XIV. <a href="#chap14">The Secret of the Clock</a><br> + XV. <a href="#chap15">The Smugglers' Cache</a><br> + XVI. <a href="#chap16">Betty MacIvor's Postal Service</a><br> + XVII. <a href="#chap17">A Keen Ally</a><br> + XVIII. <a href="#chap18">The Coming of Antoine Dubosc</a><br> + XIX. <a href="#chap19">A Very Treacherous Villain</a><br> + XX. <a href="#chap20">Alec Crosby Makes Good</a><br> + XXI. <a href="#chap21">The Reason Why</a><br> + XXII. <a href="#chap22">The Beginning of a Journey</a><br> + XXIII. <a href="#chap23">Two Shots</a><br> + XXIV. <a href="#chap24">The End of a Journey</a><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> + +<p class="t2"> +BY FOUL MEANS +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER I +<br><br> +A TRAGEDY RECALLED +</h2> + +<p> +"Do tell me, Frank, who is that remarkably beautiful +woman over there to your left? It's a party of three, +four tables away." +</p> + +<p> +The two friends were dining at a smart restaurant +in Piccadilly, and Henry Addison's companion, Frank +Daneham, a fair, good-looking man of about forty, +with the keen, far-seeing eyes of the artist (in which +profession he had achieved great success), slowly turned +his head and glanced towards the table in question. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," he said, "I'm not surprised at your question. +That's Hermione Rodenberg, a dear friend of mine." +</p> + +<p> +"What? Not the widow of old Rodenberg, the +South African multi-millionaire who died last year?" +</p> + +<p> +"That's just who she is. The man on her left with +the rather saturnine cast of countenance, is Colonel +Bessington—now retired—I joined his regiment during +the little fracas—The other woman is Iza Marsh, +Hermione's companion." +</p> + +<p> +"By Jove!" Henry Addison pursed his lips in a +soundless whistle. "Then she's rich as well as being +the most beautiful creature I've ever clapped eyes on +in my life." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, my boy. The richest woman in England, +and incidentally the most unhappy." +</p> + +<p> +"Not really? Well, of course, one can see that in +her face," said Addison, with another glance at the +exquisite profile, the dazzling pureness of complexion +enhanced by dark chestnut curls, and above all the +pathetic downward curve of the sensitive mouth. +"But why so? Tell me." +</p> + +<p> +"If you really want to know, I'm the man to spin +the yarn," replied the other. "For I happen to be +the only person living, except Hermione, who knows +the true facts of a very remarkable story." +</p> + +<p> +"Then by all means let's hear it," said Addison. +"A fellow who has just got back from the African +jungle has a keen ear for home stories. Besides, a +woman with a face like that is bound to have +something in her life worth hearing about." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll tell you if you'll give me your solemn word of +honour never to repeat it to a living soul. For it affects +me too, and though it happened a long time ago, +still one never knows. For you see, did the truth ever +come to light, I might be liable to a long term of penal +servitude for being accessory after the fact to a nasty +little crime called murder." +</p> + +<p> +"Lord! Man! You don't mean it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Fact, I assure you. If I tell you, you will be the +only man who knows. One other who guesses, is that +fellow over there, Dick Bessington. But so long as it +only remains at that all is well." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course, you have my word, Frank, old man. +That goes without saying." +</p> + +<p> +"Right. Well, as a matter of fact, I'm rather glad +to be able to talk about it. I've kept it locked up for +nine years now, and there can be no harm in telling +you, anyhow. But I'll wait until we get back to my +rooms, where I can tell it without being overheard." +</p> + +<p> +As they rose from the table half an hour later, +Hermione Rodenberg looked round, saw them, and +gave the artist a radiant smile. Then, making their +way out through the maze of small tables, some still +occupied, others already empty, the two friends +returned to Daneham's rooms in Jermyn Street and +were presently ensconced in easy chairs before a +crackling wood fire, when the artist at once began his +story. +</p> + +<p> +"First of all, do you ever remember hearing about +a young fellow called Dominic Arden?" +</p> + +<p> +"Arden," repeated his friend. "Yes, of course I +do. Old Scotch family, or rather, English migrated +to Scotland many generations back. Old out-of-the-world +place on the far north-east coast called Ardenmore. +</p> + +<p> +"That's the man. Well, what I am going to tell +you about happened in '17, when Dominic Arden was +twenty and I a comparative youngster of thirty, +who had laid down the brush for the temporary +sword, as you know. The Ardens were as poor as +rats; young Dominic—a remarkably good-looking lad, +by the way—joined up as a ranker in my regiment. +For we were great pals and I was awfully fond of +him in spite of his queer red-hot temper. Well, before +he came out, he and Hermione Craig were married." +</p> + +<p> +"What? Mrs. Rodenberg?" +</p> + +<p> +"The same. A complete love match, idyllic, poor +kids!" Daneham paused, and his friend, regarding +him intently, realized that he was about to listen +to tragedy. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, to go on. Dominic Arden was a bit of a +dreamer, too. Had the gift of writing, and might +have made a name for himself had he lived, +but—well—it happened this way: +</p> + +<p> +"Our headquarters—over in Flanders—were in an +old farm-house. The C.O., Colonel Grimshawe, was +a bit of a bully and not particularly nice in other ways. +Hated the fellow myself and I wasn't alone in this, +but Bessington and he were great pals. We had just +had a hectic time and those who were left had retired +to this comparatively peaceful spot for a spell of rest. +I was alone with Grimshawe in his particular sanctum +when the tragedy occurred. Dominic Arden had just +come in with a message for me, and at the moment +old Grimshawe happened to be talking about different +women he had been mixed up with, and girls whom +he would like to have been mixed up with, and among +them he mentioned Hermione Craig. He had no idea, +of course, that Dominic was her husband, and that +was his only excuse—where there was none—for +what he said. I remember his words distinctly, and +he spoke just as Dominic came into the room. +</p> + +<p> +"'My dear fellow, Hermione Craig is just like all +the rest of them. You pay your money, you know, at +least I do—' and he ended with a nauseating laugh +full of meaning. I won't attempt to describe my +feelings here, for, you see, I had seen Dominic come in +and I had seen his face. The next thing I realized +was that he was standing over the colonel, his face +the colour of chalk and his eyes full of hell. +</p> + +<p> +"'You'll take that back, you swine!' he said, between +gritted teeth. 'It's a damned lie and you know +it. You'll take it back now, this moment, or, by +God! I'll kill you.' +</p> + +<p> +"My dear fellow, I can hardly even now bear to +think of what happened then. And it was all so quick. +There was no time even for me to interfere. Grimshawe +had risen, his red face purple with rage. He +could hardly speak. I heard him stammer something +about a damned scoundrel, and the next thing I knew +was a sickening thud as Dominic, who had immense +strength of arm, felled him with a blow, and he went +down with his head striking a portion of the iron +fender while Dominic stood over him and I, galvanized +into action at last, sprang to my feet. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, of course you have guessed what happened. +The colonel was dead when I got to him. The blow +itself, though it split his skull—for he fell on a point +and was a tremendously heavy man—might not have +been instantly fatal, but I think it was actual shock +that killed him. Anyhow, he was dead, and there was +I, a witness to something that, if not actual murder +(which in point of fact it was, if you take the intention +into consideration), could only be paid for by death. +And there was Dominic, the lad whom I loved almost +as a brother and there also, was my duty." +</p> + +<p> +"My God! How ghastly!" ejaculated Henry Addison. +"And what actually, did you do, old man?" +</p> + +<p> +"What I actually did no one save Dominic, Hermione, +myself, and now you, will ever know. Dominic +was still standing over his victim when I looked up +from where I knelt beside the body. +</p> + +<p> +"'He's dead,' I said. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm glad to hear it,' said Dominic. 'I meant to +kill the swine.' His voice was loud, and a couple of +Tommies alone in the next room heard the words +through the thin wooden partition which served as +a wall, and are still alive to give evidence, were it ever +necessary. I got up then, and faced him. +</p> + +<p> +"'You know what this means, old man?' I said, +and he replied quite quietly: +</p> + +<p> +"'Yes, I know. But after all, one more murder +out here, judicial or otherwise, is of little account.' And +then he put his hands on my shoulders and looked +me in the face. 'Tell her, old man, tell her—' But a +sob choked him and it was then that I knew I couldn't +send him to his death—not that kind of death—and +I flung him away and pointed to the door. +</p> + +<p> +"'Go, now at once,' I whispered. 'I will explain, +only for God's sake go.' +</p> + +<p> +"'What! And leave you here to face it? Oh no.' He +laughed at the idea. +</p> + +<p> +"But I explained to him that I meant to tell the +real facts of what had happened, with the addition +only of an imaginary ending. +</p> + +<p> +"'Take my revolver,' I said, thrusting it into his +hand, 'I shall say that you threatened to shoot me +and so got away. I shall give you three minutes to +clear out and take your chance, and then I shall give +the alarm. If you don't agree to this I shall shoot +you first and then myself, and that's all there is +about it.' That settled it, of course. +</p> + +<p> +"'After all,' he said, 'you are only giving me another +choice of death, but it's an honourable one, and +for that I thank you. Good-bye, old man. God bless +you. You will know what to tell her, for even if I +escape with my life, I'm dead to her for ever.' +</p> + +<p> +"When I looked up again he was gone. I waited +three minutes and then summoned help, and it was +Bessington who came in first. I told him what had +happened, with the added lie at the end. But I have +never been quite sure that Bessington believed my +story. For the fact of there being no trace of Dominic +Arden when they hurried out in search of him, told +rather against me. And Bessington, like his friend, +Grimshawe, is not altogether a pleasant man. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, the end of the story is only what one could +expect. Dominic must have made his way to the +fighting zone again, for his body was among the killed, +three days later; that is, if one can really identify +a man by his disc and number and so on, without the +addition of any physical help. For the head of the +dead soldier was smashed to a pulp, though undoubtedly +the height, build, and general appearance was +that of Dominic Arden. +</p> + +<p> +"All the same, Harry, I have a queer feeling that +he is not dead, and that one day—Ah well! of course +it's ridiculous. He could never show up again in +any case." +</p> + +<p> +"What a horrible tragedy," said Addison. "And +what happened to her—the wife?" +</p> + +<p> +"As you see, she is still living—by some miracle—for +she and Dominic were twin souls. At the time I +could not think why a merciful Providence allowed +her to live. After she had searched in vain for traces +of him she finally believed in his death, and then, two +years ago, to my complete amazement, she married old +Rodenberg; is now once more a widow, and Bessington +is head over ears in love with her, and God knows what +will happen in that quarter. What interests me most +at the moment is that she has just bought Ardenmore, +the loneliest, most God-forsaken place you can +imagine, and where she swears she is going to live." +</p> + +<p> +"Did the Ardens sell it then, or what?" +</p> + +<p> +"As a matter of fact there are no more Ardens left. +The old folk sold the place soon after their son's +death, and then died, broken-hearted. Then the new +owner got tired of it, never lived there, I believe—and +very gladly sold it to Mrs. Rodenberg. She, +poor soul, was extremely badly off—went out as a +companion—until she married Rodenberg who, of +course, left her everything he possessed. I often +wondered—" And then Daneham broke off and +stared across into vacancy. +</p> + +<p> +"What? Tell me, I am tremendously interested." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I wondered if actually she married him in +order to buy the place back. For you see, Dominic +worshipped every corner of it. And now she's going +to live there, presumably—this is what she gives out +to the world generally—in order to escape from the +money-grabbers, begging letters, and all the things +which make life a complete hell to the rich, I believe." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, well, personally I could put up with a taste of +that kind of hell," observed Addison, dryly. +</p> + +<p> +"You think so, but I doubt your sticking it for long. +However, there it is. Ardenmore is a gloomy house, +hundreds of years old, standing in a dense forest, +with a queer old tower on the coast, once a smuggling +base, and, if rumour is right, repeating itself +historically now. There is also a secret connected with that +tower which Dominic discovered but never lived to +tell. The place is twenty miles from the nearest +station, no telephone, no anything. Hermione goes there +directly with her companion and any heavily-bribed +servants who are willing to go. Of course, she knows +her own business best, but—well—I wonder!" +</p> + +<p> +"It makes one wonder a bit," agreed his friend. +</p> + +<p> +"Does she still believe that Dominic Arden died—out there?" +</p> + +<p> +"That I am unable to tell you, for she never speaks +of it now, though in other respects she treats me as a +true friend. What she really thinks about that, is +locked away in her heart, known only to herself—and God." +</p> + +<p> +"But she has bought back Ardenmore. Why?" +</p> + +<p> +Frank Daneham shook his head and shrugged +eloquently. +</p> + +<p> +"And supposing," persisted the other, "that young +Arden <i>did</i> turn up, what would happen?" +</p> + +<p> +"My dear fellow," the artist gave a short laugh, +"if seen and caught he would be hanged for murder. +Why, as I told you, that fellow Bessington doubts my +story, and what's more, doesn't believe that Arden +was really killed. He is probably, and for all I know +to the contrary, always on the watch for his return. +That's the very devil of the whole thing, don't you +see, for remember he's in love with Arden's wife." +</p> + +<p> +"Good Lord!" exclaimed Addison. "What a situation!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER II +<br><br> +ARDENMORE +</h2> + +<p> +"Are you absolutely determined to go and live in that +ghastly place, Hermione?" demanded Colonel Bessington, +rather grimly, as he stood leaning against the +mantelpiece in the drawing-room of Mrs. Rodenberg's +beautiful house in Mayfair. He stared down at her +as she sat leaning forward, her frail-looking hands +clasped round one knee, her eyes looking into vacancy. +</p> + +<p> +"I am absolutely determined to live alone in +Ardenmore," she replied quietly. "I am tired of all this, +tired of everything connected with my life in London. +I want to go somewhere where I can be alone—quite +alone, and where I shall be able—just to think." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, from all accounts you appear to have +selected the one place in the modern world where +thought will be your only entertainment," observed +the other dryly. "And in my opinion you are making +a big mistake. It's wrong, all wrong. No woman, +and certainly no woman as beautiful as you, has any +right to go and bury herself away like that." +</p> + +<p> +"We all have a right to choose our own lives," she +replied quietly. "Beauty does not come into it at all." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, it does, when there happens to be someone +who worships your beauty; who adores you body and +soul; who would sacrifice life, honour, and all he holds +most dear for your sake. Then I maintain that you +have no right to do what you contemplate doing, +and I protest against it, and implore you to reconsider +it." +</p> + +<p> +Hermione raised her eyes to his working face. +</p> + +<p> +"Please, please, Dick!" she cried, in a voice of +entreaty. "You know what I said about all that. You +know that it's no use, no use at all. I shall never +marry again, on that I am determined." +</p> + +<p> +"I know you said all that, but I refuse to acknowledge +it as final. You, of all women, need the protection +of a man who loves you, and I do more than that, +for I worship you. I refuse to allow you to go out +of my life." +</p> + +<p> +She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you mean that you'll even follow me there—to +Ardenmore, if I ask you not to?" +</p> + +<p> +"I mean—just that." The stern lips widened in a +smile in which there was no mirth. +</p> + +<p> +"Is that kind? Is it honourable? Is it the act of +a man who really loves? I thought that true love was +self-sacrificing." +</p> + +<p> +"True love is what I feel for you, Hermione, and +in plain English, I simply can't live without you." +</p> + +<p> +She rose suddenly to her feet and faced him. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't make me hate you, Dick," she said. "I +should loath to do that, of all things. But I know you, +and in a way I understand and am terribly sorry for +you. If only you had not given up your profession, +there would have been something to hold you to +occupy you, to live for besides this fantastic dream of +yours. But as it is—well—let us compromise. Let me +have at least a month alone just to put myself right +with myself and with life and everything else. Then, +if you still wish it, you may come and see me. But +remember, I give you no hope at all. I shall never +change now—never, never." +</p> + +<p> +There was finality in her tone, could he but have +heard it, but he heard nothing save the idle words of +a woman who thought she knew what she wanted +and one day would learn from him how mistaken she +had been. But at the moment he was wise enough to +comply with her request. +</p> + +<p> +"Very well," he said. "I agree to abide by that. +You shall have your month, and then..." He took +both her hands and pressed burning kisses upon them, +held them tight for a moment, looking into her eyes, +and then without another word abruptly turned and +left her. +</p> + +<p> +She stood where she was until the front door closed +with a loud bang, and then she turned as quick steps +came into the room. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, has he gone?" asked a crisp voice, and her +friend and companion, kindly-faced, plump Iza Marsh +sailed—for so only could her progress be +described—towards her. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, gone. Quite gone." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank God for that. I can't bear the man, never +could. I suppose he proposed again?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes." +</p> + +<p> +"Like his impudence. Well, my dear, you'll be a +clever woman if you can keep him out of +Arden—thingummy-bob. If there's no road to the place he'll +fly there." +</p> + +<p> +"He has given me one month——" +</p> + +<p> +"Without the option. Kind of him. Well, all I +can say is—damn his impudence. However, enough +of him. I believe I've found you a cook. I mean, of +course, a cook who won't object to being buried alive. +She's Irish, and that, I suppose, accounts for it, as +they're mostly semi-insane. But she can cook, which +is the great point. Have you successfully bribed the +great Phillimore yet, or is it a hopeless job?" +</p> + +<p> +"Phillimore doesn't need bribing, Marshy dear. He +likes the country and he has a cousin, an old soldier, +who is out of a job and keen to take the place as odd +man. He can also drive a car. If one could only get +a housemaid, life would be perfect." +</p> + +<p> +"A housemaid, child! In that house! Might as +well talk of the chambermaid at the Ritz. You'll want +three at least. If you were willing to give sixty quid +a year I believe you'd get six." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll give anything so long as I can get them." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well, then, I'll take it on. And now, what the +devil is one going to do about hair?" +</p> + +<p> +"Hair?" repeated Hermione. "What hair? Whose hair?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yours and mine, child. Since we had it cut off +in order to save trouble, I personally, have spent more +time and money on my head than I did in all the years +before it was shingled. There are no hairdressers in +Ardenmore Glen, you know, so the only solution to +the problem that I can think of is to lie on the floor +at night and let the mice gnaw it. The place is sure +to be swarming with them." +</p> + +<p> +"You silly old thing," said Hermione, laughing +"Locharbie is only twenty miles away, and is quite a +big town. And in any case what does it matter? I +shall love to be untidy for once." +</p> + +<p> +"You, yes. It'll suit you, my dear. But what about +me? My style of illusive beauty requires a French +maid and a Parisian coiffeur to make anything like a +decent show." +</p> + +<p> +"To me you are perfect, darling, whatever you look +like." And suddenly Hermione's arms were round the +elder woman's neck. "Oh, Marshy! I'm just longing +to be there, alone with you and with my dear ghosts." +</p> + +<p> +"Poor child!" Iza Marsh held her very close for a +moment. "But we must have no ghosts, my dear. +No ghosts and no memories. Enough that you have +got the old place back and that your boy will know +it is being cared for. That, after all, is what matters, +and what you, in fact, went through two years of +hell for." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes. I suppose it was wrong of me to marry him +only for that. But at least I tried to make him happy." +</p> + +<p> +"And no one knows that better than he did, my +dear. You have nothing to reproach yourself +with." There was silence for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +"I wonder," said Hermione at last, "If Dominic +really will know." +</p> + +<p> +"Bound to, child. His body, after all, was the only +part of him that died. But there! Enough! Let's +leave all that alone. Housemaids, my dear, +housemaids. Far more important than souls." +</p> + +<p> +And so it came about that ten days later there was +an exodus from one of London's great termini, +comprising two ladies, one butler accompanied by male +relative, two buxom and middle-aged housemaids, +both well bribed and corrupted by Iza Marsh, and one +Hibernian cook who had a hazy notion that they were +all on the run and making for shelter among the +Wicklow hills. And on the late afternoon of the +following day, just twenty-eight hours later, they all +disembarked from a local train on to a siding which +boasted a hording on which the name Ardenmore +was emblazoned in somewhat worn-out letters; a +wizened and ancient man who left off minding cows +in order to become a porter whenever a train had the +hardihood to stop there; and a loose truck which had +been uncoupled from the rear of the train and on which +reposed a large touring car. +</p> + +<p> +Iza Marsh, clad in tweeds of a manly, and, to her +style of figure, most unbecoming, cut, stood upon the +platform and stared round at the scene of isolation +that presented itself, and which the fast disappearing +train—last link with civilization—seemed to accentuate. +</p> + +<p> +"God help us all!" she ejaculated. "The only +extenuating circumstance in the whole insane situation +is the fact that your overworked secretary, John +Bray, appears to have achieved a miracle when he +was up here a fortnight ago. For how on earth he +managed to discover even an ancient crone who knew +her job as a char beats me. Why, I can't see a butt +or even a ben." +</p> + +<p> +"The village is at the other side of that hill," said +Hermione, laughing. "And it appears that Old Betty +MacIvor worked for—for the Ardens years ago. At +least, we can be assured of a clean house and +well-aired beds. The coal was taken up a month ago, and, +after all, this is May, and we have quite five months +of fairly warm weather before us. Isn't it lovely, +Marshy?" +</p> + +<p> +"Lovely, no, my child. Grand, yes. Weird if you +like. Romantic. It's all that, and I can imagine its +growing upon one. But I'm not going to waste good +lies about it, my dear." +</p> + +<p> +They were waiting for the car to be removed from +the truck, which function was being achieved by the +combined efforts of Phillimore, James, his cousin, and +the ancient porter. +</p> + +<p> +"It does grow on one," said Hermione. "I was only +here once, just before—he went, and then only for a +few days. I really know nothing of the place, but even +the little I saw I grew to love. Well, they are ready, +so let us be going. The car will return afterwards for +the luggage. Mr. Bray said it was a fairly good road." +</p> + +<p> +Soon the seven travellers had packed themselves +into the large car and were off. +</p> + +<p> +Hermione was very silent during the twenty odd +miles which had to be covered before their destination +was reached. Only once before had she traversed the +winding road, and that had been in an old-fashioned, +four-wheeled dog-cart, propelled by two sturdy +moorland ponies, and driven by the one man who had been, +and who still was, all the world to her. She remembered +that they, too, had been silent, but it was the +silence of twin souls who needed no medium of +conversation. The vast moors, the dense pine forests, +the rocky hills down whose precipitous sides the tiny +streams descended in minute cascades, the utter stillness +save for the call of birds or the sough of gentle +wind through the pine trees, had filled them both with +a sense of contentment and peace. Here, at this very +spot where one of the vast pine forests began, and +upon a plateau of green, luscious grass, they had come +to rest, had tethered the horses, and had ensconced +themselves in the shadow of a grey rock, lichen-covered, +and eaten their picnic meal. A wave of torturing +agony welled up in her heart at the bare recollection, +and in desperation she put a hand on her friend's +arm and clutched it. +</p> + +<p> +"Speak to me, Marshy," she said. "Say something." There +were tears in the deep voice and not far from +the dark hazel eyes, and her friend, knowing all, +understood and was quick to respond. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, my dear, I was just thinking about that +nonsense John Bray talked about smuggling going on +up here. Where on earth could anyone smuggle anything +up here? And look at the long sea voyage they'd +have to make if they came from France." +</p> + +<p> +"Just the reason for choosing it, as no one would +think of them coming all that way," replied Hermione, +grateful to her friend for starting such an easy +topic of conversation. "The sea, you know, is only +half a mile away from Ardenmore, and in the old +days I believe lots of odd things happened connected +with Ardenmore Tower, that funny old ruin I told +you about that stands facing the sea, and—and—which +holds a secret that only Dominic knew of and +which one day he said he would tell me." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, yes, to be sure. Mr. Bray said nothing about +that, of course, only that the Powers that be were +beginning to sit up and take notice. Of course we know +there's smuggling going on—bound to be since they +did away with the coastguards—and the Government's +simply asking for it by taxing things as they +are. But to connect it with this place! Bosh and +nonsense, my dear!" She ended with a snort. +</p> + +<p> +The long drive came to an end at last. A broken-down +gate proclaimed the entrance to the narrow +grass-grown avenue that led for a quarter of a mile +through a dense pine forest, and even Iza Marsh's +high spirits sank at the sight of the gloomy drive. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear," she said with a slight shudder, "this is +even worse than <i>I</i> bargained for." +</p> + +<p> +But Hermione had no ears for conversation now, +and her eyes were strained to catch a first glimpse of +the house which she had not seen for nine long years. +John Bray's report that it was habitable had satisfied +her, though had it been in ruins she would still have +bought it. It was furnished as the Ardens had left it, +and for two years had stood empty, so she had no +illusions as to what to expect. As for the gardens, +Mr. Bray had shrugged eloquently and suggested +cutting half the trees down. +</p> + +<p> +They came in sight of the house at last, and Iza +Marsh's spirits sank even lower. Little sun could +penetrate to that gloomy pile whose stone-flagged roof +was green and grey with moss and lichen, whose two +round turrets at one end gave a forbidding aspect to +a place that was already sufficiently forbidding. Ivy +grew wild upon the walls eating its way into the very +windows but Hermione only saw the place which +Dominic Arden had loved. +</p> + +<p> +The car drew up before the large doorway to permit +her and her friend to alight, and then went round +to the back to deposit the servants, and with a little +sigh Hermione stretched out her arm and rang the +bell. +</p> + +<p> +"At last!" she said, "at last. Now I can breathe +once more." +</p> + +<p> +"My dear girl, I'm afraid you'll have to hack down +a good many of those trees before <i>I</i> can," observed +the elder woman dryly. +</p> + +<p> +"Not one tree, Marshy. Nothing. It shall stay as +it is." +</p> + +<p> +The door opened as she spoke, and a tall gaunt +woman stood in the opening, her keen eyes seeming +to take in every detail of the new-comers. +</p> + +<p> +"You are Betty MacIvor, are you not?" asked +Hermione, with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +"Aye, to be sure, and you'll be Mistress Rodenberg," +was the reply, but with no answering smile, +no words of welcome. She stood aside while the two +went in, and closed the door. +</p> + +<p> +The wide passage was much as Hermione had remembered +it, save that there was an air of forlornness +about it, an atmosphere of decay, an odour of damp +mustiness which seemed to strike a sudden chill to her +heart, and which even the blazing wood fire crackling +in the large open fireplace at the end of the passage +had apparently no power to dispel. The old woman, +who had followed close behind, pointed to it. +</p> + +<p> +"There are fires in the bedrooms as well," she said, +and without more words, disappeared through the +door leading to the back premises. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, no one can accuse that lady of the gift of +the gab," remarked Iza Marsh, dryly, and then, +seeing the curious expression—almost as of one who +sees visions—on Hermione's face, "What is it, +child?" she asked quickly. +</p> + +<p> +"It's very strange," she replied slowly, "but in +spite of the gloom, the musty smell, and the other odd +things that one meets with in houses that have been +a long time empty, this doesn't seem quite like an +unoccupied house, at least not to me. Does it to you, +Iza?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I can't say that's exactly my impression," +replied practical Iza Marsh. "Personally, it strikes +me as being the most dismal, gloomy, unoccupied +place that I was ever in in my life, but of course that's +my idea. Tell me what you mean, my dear." +</p> + +<p> +"I mean that I had an odd feeling when I came in +that someone was waiting there to meet us, and it was +a sort of mental shock to see this passage and hall +empty." She was silent for a moment and then added +quietly: "He—was simply devoted to the place, +you know. So devoted that perhaps—well, I hardly +know how to express it." +</p> + +<p> +"You mean that he may have left something of +himself in the house," suggested her friend, +sympathetically. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, perhaps that is it, for it's extraordinary how +contented and happy I feel, as though there was no +more reason for me to go on yearning and longing and +grieving as I have done for nine long years. I can't +explain it, and I don't think I want to. But there, +enough of me. Come upstairs and let's see our rooms. +Betty MacIvor is certainly not communicative and +didn't seem over-pleased to see us, but she knows +how to keep a house clean, and that's all that matters." +</p> + +<p> +Alone at last, Hermione, after leaving her friend, +sped quickly downstairs and along a rather dark and +narrow passage until she came at the end to a closed +door, hesitated for a moment, and at length turned +the handle and entered a circular room lighted by two +narrow windows, and once more on the threshold she +paused. +</p> + +<p> +This turret room, dark and gloomy though it was, +was sacred ground to her, for it had been Dominic +Arden's particular sanctum. Nine years ago she had +entered it with him, had been shown his particular +treasures. His bookshelf on which stood the books +he was fond of, his desk where he wrote his fanciful +stories, the pictures on the walls which his mother +had painted. She looked round with a spasm of fear +in her heart at what she might find to be missing. And +there was so much that was missing. The bookcase +was there, but empty; the desk was there, empty +also; the paintings were no longer on the walls, they +were all gone save one, a water-colour printing of the +old tower, a solitary stone structure, built, so tradition +said, by a Scottish chieftain as a look-out over the +seas, standing half a mile from the house and never +used by anyone, save Dominic, who had turned the +lower room into a study where he could write +undisturbed. Why had this picture been left and the rest +taken? And when had they been taken, and by whom? +If they were in the house they should be returned to +their original places. His room, at least, should be as +he had left it. She would have claimed his belongings +for her own, but when she recovered from her long +illness, Ardenmore had been sold and his parents both +dead. They had not known of their son's secret +marriage. They had never approved of Hermione Craig. +Yes, she would return his things to their rightful +places, but where were they? +</p> + +<p> +She turned sharply at a sound behind her, and there +in the doorway stood old Betty with an odd look of +doubt and suspicion in her eyes. Perhaps, thought +Hermione, she would know where they were. +</p> + +<p> +"Where are the other pictures, Betty, and the +books that used to be here?" +</p> + +<p> +The old woman shook her head. "I canna' say, +Mistress Rodenberg, I have no' set eyes on them for +long eneuch." +</p> + +<p> +"But who moved them? Who took them?" +</p> + +<p> +"I dinna' ken, Mistress Rodenberg," was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Are they still in the house?" asked Hermione. +</p> + +<p> +"Nay, nay, not in the hoose at a'," and then Betty +pointed a skinny finger to the only picture that hung +there: "'Tis no place for a body to see the noo. Not +a man nor a lassie dare gang by there." +</p> + +<p> +"Why?" asked Hermione, in some astonishment. +But the old woman only shook her head and Hermione +saw quite clearly the fear in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"I dinna' ken what like it is that scares puir folk +awa'," she muttered. "But there's that there that +has no' the richt to be there, and there are times when +I feel that even here—" She stopped suddenly and +gave a quick glance once more round the room. +"Come awa', Mistress Rodenberg, come awa'—" she +moved backwards through the door, and Hermione, +a sudden chill at her heart, turned and followed. +</p> + +<p> +There was something there, an odd sensation as +though the room had just been occupied. And yet +common sense told her that no one could have dwelt +in that bare, unfurnished, and most dismal room. It +must, therefore, be the echoes of her own heart that +had longed to find someone there, and only when the +door was shut behind her could she shake off that +uncanny feeling and begin to think clearly. Why had +those pictures and books been taken when nothing +else—so far as John Bray had discovered from the +inventory—had been touched since the Ardens had +left it? And they had been there when he was here +a fortnight ago because she had asked him what the +turret room contained, and he had said—"Nothing +of any importance: just a desk, a bookshelf with some +old books in it, a couple of chairs and some +watercolours on the walls." Someone, therefore, had taken +them. +</p> + +<p> +Then again there was another odd thing. What +was it that scared every man and woman from the old +tower by the sea, and which was even too fearsome to +be spoken of? What was going on? What had happened +in the two years during which the house had +stood empty and uncared-for? And what, finally, +was going to be the outcome of her action in buying +back the old place? There was something here that +she could not understand and which filled her for the +first time in her life with a nameless fear. She +instinctively felt too, that the old woman—who had gone +as silently as she had come—had no friendly feeling +towards her and she resented it, for she liked to be +liked, she who had not an enemy in the world. And +she had come here, not only to care for the place that +Dominic had loved and to look upon it as though +it were almost a part of him, obtained by her only +through much suffering—a loveless marriage which +she could only look back upon as at some hideous +nightmare—but also she had come there for peace +as well, and somehow she felt that there would be +neither that peace nor yet that Heaven-sent quiet +and freedom from worry which she had so much desired +and hoped to find there. Instead she felt that +there was some disquieting element which having +come, she would have to face. What was it? +</p> + +<p> +A quick step along the passage scattered her +thoughts far and wide, and she turned to see Phillimore +beside her, anxiety portrayed on his usually stolid +countenance, inquiry in his voice. +</p> + +<p> +"Police Inspector Mackay from Locharbie is here +ma'am, and wishes to see you on a very urgent matter. +He is waiting in the hall." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER III +<br><br> +THE SCRAP OF PAPER +</h2> + +<p> +Hermione regarded the butler for a moment in +amazed wonder. +</p> + +<p> +"He wants to see me? Why?" she demanded. +</p> + +<p> +"He didn't say ma'am. He came on a motor-bicycle +and said he understood that you had just arrived, +that he was sorry to trouble you, but he must see you +as the matter was urgent." +</p> + +<p> +Still puzzled, Hermione made her way down the +dark passage towards the entrance hall, and as she +went it suddenly occurred to her that this urgent matter +might be in connection with that ridiculous story of +smuggling that Mr. Bray had mentioned, and her +friend Iza had commented upon during the drive +there. But even were it so, what on earth had it got +to do with her? +</p> + +<p> +She found the inspector—a well-built, intelligent-looking +man—pacing to and fro in the wide passage, +his peaked cap under his arm, his blue puttees +bespattered with mud and a general appearance of +disorder about him which suggested much climbing +among sand and rocks, while his highly-coloured, +rugged face wore an expression of puzzlement. +</p> + +<p> +"Will this be Mistress Rodenberg?" he inquired, +as Hermione came to a stand before him, and his +eyes appraised the perfection of her beauty. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes. I understand that you wished to see me. I +have only just arrived after a rather tiring journey." She +added this faint protest in justice to herself, and +the other was quick to see it. +</p> + +<p> +"I must apologize, ma'am," he said, and he spoke +with a strong Northern accent, rolling his r's with +much vigour, "and I'll not keep you a moment longer +than necessary. But duty is duty, and I was sent here +to investigate into a matter which has come to our +notice, and to inquire if there is anything that you +could be telling me aboot it." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm afraid I don't understand," said Hermione, +devoutly wishing the man would come to the point +and leave her in peace. "I know nothing about the +place, really, as I have only just come here." +</p> + +<p> +"That is so, ma'am, but having bought the place, +you'll nae doot be knowing something aboot the +property that you have purchased. That tower on +the cliff, for instance, it is part of the purchase, too, I +suppose?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly. It belongs to Ardenmore. In fact, it +was originally Ardenmore Castle, and now all that +is left is the old tower, which is partly a ruin." +</p> + +<p> +"No' sae much of a ruin either," was the reply. +"A man could weel live there in comfort, I'm thinking, +and it is the vera place for the unlawfu' act of +smuggling—but for ane thing——" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh! Smuggling!" repeated Hermione, with an +unconscious sigh of relief. And then she wondered +why she had experienced relief, and what it was that +subconsciously she had feared. "My secretary +Mr. Bray, told me something about the rumour that +was going about." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, then you've heeared tell of it?" The inspector's +eyes were sharply on her face now, as though +indeed there was something suspicious in the fact that +she had heard of the rumour at all. +</p> + +<p> +"Only stupid gossip," she replied. "How could +anyone carry on smuggling up here? Where would +they land? Where store the contraband goods? And +why go so far north?" +</p> + +<p> +"That's juist what has been a sair puzzle to me," +agreed Inspector Mackay, with another keen glance +at the beautiful face before him. "There's a place for +landing, sure enough, but the only room that has a +roof to it would no' be hiding a pair of silk +stockings—for any passer-by could see into it. And yet that +there's something queer hereaboots I'm sure. Lights +have been seen far out at sea, and there's tales of a +motor-car that gangs from nowhere along the Ardenmore +road, once in a month or mair. And who would +be coming along there onless 'twas to come to this +house, and the place has been empty for ower twa year." +</p> + +<p> +"A motor-car been seen?" echoed Hermione +incredulously. "It must have been my secretary who +was up here a fortnight ago, and two or three times +before that when he came to see the house and attend +to business matters. No one else would come here, +nor is there anywhere else to go to but here, and I'm +sure no one could live in the old tower—at least, I +think not." +</p> + +<p> +And here she paused. Once only had she seen the +place in question, once when Dominic Arden had taken +her there to show her his little den where he could +look out upon the sea and dream his dreams without +fear of interruption. The room was bare but habitable, +boasting a chair, a table, and the one outstanding +and somewhat incongruous feature—a large clock, in +appearance resembling a grandfather's clock, but +built into the wall and—so he had told her—placed +there over a hundred years ago by an eccentric member +of the Ardenmore family, and the secret of which, +he had added—"It has taken me a month to discover, +and when I have shown it to you then we two will +be the only people living who know it." But he had +gone before the secret could be told, and in any case +she had never pondered very deeply over it, and +thought of it only as one of his odd whimsies. For in +some things Dominic had been a romantic, adventurous +boy at heart. Now this strange talk of smuggling, +and the possibilities of anyone making the place +their headquarters for that nefarious purpose, was +awakening all those almost forgotten memories—trifles +which, compared to the one stark tragedy of his +death, were not worthy of a thought. +</p> + +<p> +For to her, Dominic Arden was in very truth dead +even though—miracle of miracles!—he might actually +have escaped death on the battlefields of Flanders. +The message which he had sent to her by his friend, +Frank Daneham had been sufficient proof of that. +For Dominic was not the man to bring his own +disgrace and crime into her life. And though she had +tried by every means in her power—aided by that true +friend, Frank Daneham—to get news of him, either +from returned prisoners of war or through any other +channel, she had failed, and so preferred to think of +him as dead and to live on the memory of the past. +</p> + +<p> +And now this wretched Inspector of Police was +undoing all the work that Time had achieved for her, +and reawakening in her soul doubt and dread and a +fearful hope. For of all men Dominic Arden was the +only soul who knew of some secret connected with +that tower, and it seemed, by what this man was +saying, that something was going on there that needed +explanation. +</p> + +<p> +"You're thinking that a man could dwell there?" +asked Mackay, sharply—suspiciously. +</p> + +<p> +She pulled herself together. "I can't say, it is ages +since I saw the place." +</p> + +<p> +"Weel, mebbe they could, but there's nobody there +now, for I bided there mysel' the whole of last night, +and have been searching the day lang, yet neither +mark nor track nor trace of living men can I see." +</p> + +<p> +"Then why make any more fuss?" demanded +Hermione. "The report must have been false, and +why, in any case, come to me about it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Because I have to warrn you, ma'am, that I shall +be placing a man on the watch from to-morrow night, +and also to ask you to be mindfu' yoursel' of anything +that might strike you as queer or unusual, and to +send worrd to me at headquarters." +</p> + +<p> +"But what on earth could <i>I</i> see?" she cried, in a +bewildered voice. Was <i>this</i> the peace she had come +for, then? To be bothered by police in this uncalled-for +manner? "Besides," she went on, as a happy idea +occurred to her, "I am not on the telephone." +</p> + +<p> +"No, ma'am, but you have a chauffeur and a car, +and a note from you would bring me at once, which +would be quicker than driving the twenty odd miles to +Ardenmore Post Office, where you could send a +telegram. But it's not that I'm asking you so much to +help as that I warrn you of possible danger. For the +auld tower is but half a mile awa', and this house is a +likely place for a hunted man to come to, and I'm +thinking anything micht happen, if what I suspect is +actually true." +</p> + +<p> +"But you have just told me, Inspector, that you +have found nothing suspicious," persisted Hermione, +who was beginning to feel bored with his pertinacity, +and rather angry that he should trouble her with the +matter at all. +</p> + +<p> +"Nay, ma'am, I have found naething for which I +was looking, in the matter of smugglers' caves or +places where the goods can be dumped, but I have +found something else, and I wondered, mebbe, if you +could throw any light upon it." He put a hand into +his tunic pocket, drew out a tiny scrap of torn paper +and gave it to her. +</p> + +<p> +Phillimore had placed a lamp on a table in the wide +passage, for it had grown dark by then, and crossing +over to it, she held the paper to the light. +</p> + +<p> +One sentence was written there in block letters, +and it was a date. +</p> + +<p> +Monday, December the 3rd, 1917. +</p> + +<p> +Blankly she stared at the now blurred characters. +For a sudden nameless fear had seized her, an +exquisite, torturing, impossible hope. On this tiny +scrap of paper was written the date on which Dominic +Arden had walked out of that Flanders hut to his +death. A date that was for ever graven on her heart. +A date known only to four people in the world: to +herself—to Frank Daneham—to Colonel Bessington, +and—to Dominic Arden. +</p> + +<p> +Why, then, was it here on this tiny scrap of paper? +And what did it mean? It was a dirty, crumpled bit +of paper, and had apparently been torn out of a +notebook. By whom? +</p> + +<p> +With a tremendous effort she stifled the cry that +rose to her lips, forced her voice to its normal tone, +and turning to the inspector, asked a question. +</p> + +<p> +"Where did you find it?" +</p> + +<p> +"On the shingle, juist below the auld tower," was +the reply. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER IV +<br><br> +A LIGHT IN THE TOWER +</h2> + +<p> +In the silence that ensued the dropping of the +proverbial pin might have sounded like the knell of doom. +But the loud slamming of a door upstairs echoing +harshly through the old house broke the tense +situation and brought Hermione out of her trance-like +state and back to the world of reality. +</p> + +<p> +For Hermione had a vivid imagination and that +one little sentence uttered by the matter-of-fact police +officer had conjured up an instantaneous vision of the +possible explanation of that tiny scrap of paper and +the place where it had been found. Only to be +shattered at its birth by the sound of the banging door +which had brought her back to that world of realities, +and a return to logical, common sense reasoning. +What a fool she had been to have permitted that +impossible thought to enter her mind even for a moment. +For of the four souls who knew that date, Dick +Bessington and Frank Daneham were in London and +therefore could not have dropped the bit of paper +where it had been found. She had not even been to +the spot and therefore most certainly had not dropped +it there—and Dominic Arden was dead. +</p> + +<p> +Aware that the eyes of the stolid inspector were +watching her face keenly, she heard—with intense +relief—the quick tread of high-heeled shoes in the +passage, and turned to Iza Marsh as she approached. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm so glad you've come," was all she found +herself able to say. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, my dear? What's the—?" The plump lady +stopped abruptly and stared hard at Inspector Mackay. +"Why! God bless my soul, child! Not in trouble +with the police already, surely?" +</p> + +<p> +A broad grin widened the mouth of the policeman. +</p> + +<p> +"Juist a matter of beeseness, ma'am," he said. +</p> + +<p> +"Business?" she retorted, seeing at a quick glance +the expression on Hermione's white face. "Good +gracious me! Don't the man know that we've only +just landed here after a tiring and completely +disgusting twenty-eight hours' journey and that we're +dog-tired and want to be eating our dinner, not +discussing business—especially police business?" +</p> + +<p> +"I juist looked in on my way back to Locharbie," +replied the inspector, apologetically, "in orrder to +acquaint the leddie with the queer seetuation with +which we are confronted——" +</p> + +<p> +"Queer fiddlesticks!" snapped Mrs. Marsh, brusquely. +"Whatever the situation and however queer +it may be, won't it wait till morning?" +</p> + +<p> +"It's all right, Iza, I know all about it," replied +Hermione, getting a hold upon herself once more. +"It's about smuggling, you know." +</p> + +<p> +"Smuggling! Gracious me, child! I thought that +was all my eye and Betty Martin. Do you mean that +there is real, live, honest-to-God smuggling going +on here? But how intensely thrilling and exciting!" +</p> + +<p> +"It's a' that, ma'am," observed the inspector, dryly, +"and mebbe 'twill be something mair besides before +we've feenished with it." He turned abruptly to +Hermione, as being easier to deal with than this +plump, sharp-voiced and voluble lady. "Then you'll +no' be able to tell me onything aboot that wee scrap +of paper?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"I? How should I?" she replied, wondering if +this man might have known what happened on that +date and was trying to connect her with it in some +way. +</p> + +<p> +"Only that your secretary man might ha' let it +drop whiles he was inspecting the place pairhaps." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, no he knows nothing—I mean, he couldn't +possibly have dropped it. It can't really mean anything +at all, and can surely be accounted for in some very +simply way." +</p> + +<p> +"What's that, my dear? Another scrap of paper? +I thought the Teutons held the monopoly for that +kind of thing," put in her companion briskly. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll tell you about it presently," said Hermione, +quickly. "Do you want it back, Inspector?" +</p> + +<p> +For answer he held out his hand. +</p> + +<p> +"'Twill be best in my keeping," he said, as he took +it from Hermione. It was, after all, of no use to her. +The block letters told her nothing, and the words +themselves had long since been branded on her +memory. There was no need for anyone or anything to +remind her of that date. +</p> + +<p> +"Then I'll be going," said Mackay, "and it's likely +I'll see you to-morrow, ma'am. And if you're wise +you'll keep the doors locked and the shutters barred, +and if you hear or see anything suspeecious, you'll +know where to send a message. I'm bringing one of +my men back in the car in the morning." +</p> + +<p> +He gave a perfunctory salute and let himself out +through the front door. And as Hermione turned +the big key in the lock Phillimore advanced down +the passage and announced that dinner was ready. +</p> + +<p> +"It's only cold, Iza, and we won't bother to change +now," said Hermione, and, catching her friend by the +arm, she led her to the rather large and gloomy +dining-room—hardly warmed by the log and peat +fire, and dimly lit by oil lamps. +</p> + +<p> +"And now, my dear," said Iza Marsh, when at last +Phillimore had gone and they were alone, "tell old +Marshy all about it. You look as if you had seen a +ghost or had a bad shock, so I know it's something +more than this smuggling bosh that the man talked +about." +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps it is—and yet common sense tells me +that it is nothing—just an extraordinary coincidence," +replied the other. "To begin with, the inspector came +to warn me that he believes there have been people +occupying the old tower and using it as a signalling +base or something of that sort. But as he can't find +any place where contraband goods could be hidden +or stored, he is naturally puzzled and intends putting +a man on guard to watch. Of course, he had to see me +about that." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course, indeed! And so I should think! Planting +a beastly policeman on your grounds without by +your leave or with your leave would have been a bit +too thick. But you can't deceive me, child, it's not that +which has turned your cheeks so white, my dear. +Come, tell me." +</p> + +<p> +"He found something—" began Hermione, and +suddenly choked. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly Iza Marsh was by her side with an arm +about her. +</p> + +<p> +"There, my dear, never mind if you don't feel like +telling me just now. Later on—any time." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh no, I'll tell you, but it's ridiculous," cried the +girl, with a sob in her voice. "Of course, it can be +explained. But it gave me a terrible shock for a +moment for you see, what he found was a tiny bit of +paper lying on the shingle below the tower, and on it +was written in block letters the—the—date that even +you don't know of—the date when Dominic went out +to his death. Monday, December the 3rd, 1917. Just +that—nothing else. And there are only we four—he +and I, and—and Colonel Bessington and Frank who +know. You see now what I—dared to think—to +hope—for a moment." +</p> + +<p> +For once Iza Marsh was completely silent knowing, +as she only could know, what Hermione must indeed +have thought, have even hoped, and the tragedy of +it shocked her into silence. She just held the +girl—whom she loved as her own daughter—in her warm +embrace, and with a violent effort restrained the hot +tears that welled up into her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"My poor, dear child," she said, at last and further +words completely failed her. But it was enough for +Hermione. +</p> + +<p> +"I see you understand," she said, "and—and—bless +you for your sympathy, Marshy. But—but—I +was a fool, of course, I see that now. For the thing is +utterly impossible. There <i>must</i> be some other +explanation. There must!" +</p> + +<p> +"And there is, I'm afraid," agreed the elder woman +as she resumed her seat. "After all, there were many +hundreds of other men who died on that date. And +then again, it may have nothing to do with a date of +death. It's just the queer coincidence of it that +is—well—so queer. Words fail me, my dear. I can find +none adequate in which to express myself, except in +curses on the head of that damned policeman for +coming here and upsetting you like this." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh no, Marshy, that's hardly fair. After all, it +was his duty to come and see me about it. +</p> + +<p> +"Duty? Yes, I suppose so. What a beastly upsetting +thing duty can be, and—if it comes to that—generally +is," grumbled the elder woman. "But seeing +that he's done it and come and upset us all to his +heart's content, what are we going to do about it? +You can't allow smugglers to go smuggling all over +your grounds, you know. What the deuce are you +laughing at, child? That's a fact, isn't it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Of course it is. It was only the way you put it, +Marshy. I imagine that if there is smuggling going +on, they'll confine themselves to one spot—only, +somehow, I can't believe it's true." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it does seem odd and against Nature—so to +speak—for people to dump their ill-gotten goods all +this way up north. But, I suppose, being an outlandish +part of the world makes it possible, anyway. And as +for the signalling and so on, you know, my dear, that +policemen don't see anything they ought to see unless +the thing's thrust under their noses. So this must be +very obvious. On the other hand, if it's something +they've no business to notice, they spot it right away. +I presume the man searched the place thoroughly." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes. He said so, and found nothing. But what, +I wonder, did he expect to find?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, presumably, I imagine, barrels of silk stockings +and bales of brandy. No, I mean t'other way +about. All the best smugglers go in for silk stockings +and things of that sort. I believe they even sell 'em +on barrows in Whitechapel for an old song. So they +must be got somehow free of duty. It's always a +puzzle to me why this wretched Government go for our +underwear. They'd kick up the devil's own fuss if we +went about in bare legs to spite 'em, wouldn't they?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, as far as that goes, we might as well, for +all the difference it would make to the look of our +legs," replied Hermione, smiling, and her friend was +thankful to see the smile which she had been at some +pains to create. Anything was welcome that would +take her mind off that wretched bit of paper which +that disgusting policeman had gone and found. And +what, by the way, was the meaning of it? Something +quite obviously simple if she could only think of it. +As it was—well, it was certainly odd. +</p> + +<p> +"At any rate, my dear," went on Iza Marsh, as they +rose from the table, "we need not bother about it +to-night. If the man found nothing else it is quite +palpable that there was no one and nothing to find, for his +eyes gave one the impression of being able to bore +through stone walls. So if you're not too tired, child, +take me round the house and show me any of the +rooms that are showable. And the sooner +Messrs. Thingummy and Thingummy install the electric +light here, the better. I foresee that we have to +trundle a bracket lamp round with us in order to see +anything at all." +</p> + +<p> +"They are going to start in a month's time," replied +Hermione. "I am also corresponding with gardeners, +and think I have found three good ones. And then, +you know, I am buying what was always called the +Home Farm, which the present farmer wants to sell, +so we shall really be self-supporting." +</p> + +<p> +Iza Marsh kept a cheerful flow of conversation +as they visited room after room, suggesting alterations +here, changes there. And when, finally, they parted +at Hermione's bedroom door, the elder woman clasped +her for a moment in her arms. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, no sitting up and worrying and thinking, +child," she said. "Forget all about this and remember +only that if you worry you make fat old Marshy +miserable, and you have no earthly right to do that." +</p> + +<p> +"Nor any intention, darling," was the reply. "My +one worry is that you may not be comfortable." +</p> + +<p> +"Trust me for that," said Mrs. Marsh, with a fat +chuckle. "No pussy-cat was ever in it with me for +obtaining personal comfort at any price." +</p> + +<p> +But though Hermione had, as she promised, ceased +to worry, it was a long time before she got into bed. +For her window looked out on to an opening into the +dense mass of fir trees, that more or less surrounded +the old house, and at the end of this opening, half a +mile away, she could, she knew, in the daylight, catch +a glimpse of the top of the ruined tower. In +consequence of this, ever and anon as she undressed, she +found her steps going towards that window, attracted +by something she could not define—either a fear of +what she might see, or a wish—a faint hope that there +would be anything to see. And every time she looked +and saw the same black darkness she experienced a +faint sensation of disappointment—called herself a +fool for her pains; yet, always, was back again peering +through the curtains. For what? +</p> + +<p> +How could there be anything to see when she herself +had scoffed at the idea that there could be anything +to see at all? The inspector had seen no one—had +been on the watch all the night before and had +seen nothing and no one, and if his keen, experienced +eyes had failed to detect anything suspicious, how and +why should she? All the same... +</p> + +<p> +Her bed stood directly facing the window, and before +she finally got into it she drew back the window +curtains. +</p> + +<p> +If, she thought, there should be anything to see, +she could see it from where she lay. And then she +laughed at the sheer folly of such a thought. Yet she +left the curtains as they were, and she lay staring out +of the dark window, her eyes seeing nothing but that +crumpled bit of paper lying on the shingle, and thrown +or dropped there—by whom? But after a time even +that vivid picture faded from her tired vision and +grew dim, and at last she fell asleep. But it was an +uneasy sleep into which dreams would come—dreams +that had long been strangers to her—and the dreams +concerned that date, written in block letters on that +tiny scrap of paper. So that when she awoke suddenly, +she sat up and found the tears streaming down her +face, and a name on her lips, while her arms were held +out towards a figure that had but a moment ago been +clasped within them. +</p> + +<p> +"Dominic! Oh, Dominic!" +</p> + +<p> +She dashed the blinding tears from her eyes and +found herself staring blankly at the uncurtained +window. +</p> + +<p> +The next instance she was out of bed and across the +room, had flung the casement open, and, as the cool +night air touched her face, she gave a hoarse, startled +cry. +</p> + +<p> +Away in the distance, shining clear in the darkness, +and high up in the sky, there burned a bright red light, +and even as she watched, immovable and tense with +excitement, it died, then shone out again a vivid green, +to be as quickly changed once more to red, and red +for a minute it stayed, until, with a flicker, it was out, +and only black impenetrable darkness prevailed. +</p> + +<p> +A signal, and from the top of the tower! What did +it mean? +</p> + +<p> +With a faint cry she drew the curtains, lit the candle +and in the dim light began to fling on her clothes. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER V +<br><br> +SMUGGLERS? +</h2> + +<p> +Iza Marsh had also a disturbed night, but not for the +same reason as Hermione. There was only one thing +in the world she was afraid of, and that was mice, +and apparently to her vivid imagination—where these +noxious vermin were concerned—the room was alive +with them. +</p> + +<p> +"And not a cat in the place, I'll bet my boots," +she muttered to herself, as she scrambled on to the +sofa and from that place of vantage began to undress. +"If I'd left my fur coat behind and brought a live cat +instead, I should have shown more common sense. +We'll have to get one in to-morrow." As though, +indeed, such things were to be found growing conveniently +and in abundance, in the derelict garden. But +fear had rendered her far beyond logic or reason. +</p> + +<p> +She got into bed, somehow, and left two candles +burning on the table beside her, and, having started +a very exciting book on the journey, she began to read +from where she had unwillingly left off. +</p> + +<p> +She read for an hour and a half, glanced at her +watch, saw that it was long past twelve o'clock, and +was in the act of blowing out the candles when a noise +in the passage outside made her suddenly desist +from blowing and sit up instead. +</p> + +<p> +Someone was walking as silently as possible, on +boards that creaked badly at nearly every step, past +her door; and as no one save Hermione and herself +slept in that part of the house, she reasoned that, +unless it was a burglar, it must certainly be Hermione. +She had no fear of burglars, only mice, and all fear +of mice vanished as soon as the possibility of burglars +came into her head. +</p> + +<p> +Considering her bulk, Iza Marsh was an active +woman, and a second later her door stood opened and +she herself was out in the passage. +</p> + +<p> +It was no thief after all, but Hermione, and +Hermione fully dressed and carrying a lighted candle. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear child!" cried Iza, and the girl stopped +and turned. "What on earth are you doing?" +</p> + +<p> +"Hush! Don't make a noise," said Hermione in a +whisper, and in another moment had joined the elder +woman. "I have just seen red and green lights flashed +from the top of the tower, and I'm going to find out +what it is." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>You</i> are going to find out?" ejaculated the other, +aghast. "Are you mad, child? Supposing it's the +smuggling people. If they see you they'll murder you! +Get back to bed at once and don't be silly. You +probably dreamt that you saw red and green lights, I'm +sure you're lucky if you saw nothing else," she added, +grimly as she recalled her own visions while undressing. +</p> + +<p> +"No I didn't. I saw it as plain as I see you now +and I am going. I'm not a bit afraid and won't let +anyone see me. And I must try and find out what it +is. Please don't try and hinder me, Marshy, I've just +got to go." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well," was the grim reply, "knowing you as +I do, my dear, I realize the futility of argument. +So—I'll just have to come with you." +</p> + +<p> +"Nonsense, you can't—not like that." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't mean to go like this," snapped the other. +"It won't take a minute to slip on a coat and skirt +over my nightie and get into some thick stockings +and shoes. For go alone you shall not." +</p> + +<p> +"But it's half a mile away!" protested Hermione, +though now to unheeding ears, for the stout lady was +already back in her room, and hastily she followed. +</p> + +<p> +"Just put a candle on the floor, my dear, to frighten +away the mice, and then I can get along quickly." +</p> + +<p> +"Mice! Why, they're only in the walls," said the +girl laughing in spite of herself. +</p> + +<p> +"Then the sooner the walls are full of cats, too, the +better," was the retort. "There, I'm ready, and I +can walk as fast as you can when I choose, so you +won't waste time through me. But I'll take this with +me," she added, as she took a tiny revolver from her +dressing-case and slipped it in her pocket. "It won't +be the first time I have used it, either—if I have to let +it off in self-defence to-night. My poor old man and I +went to some queer places at times. Come along, +child. I hope the worst we'll get will be double pneumonia." +</p> + +<p> +Silently the two descended the stairs and were soon +outside in the cool night air. +</p> + +<p> +"I've got my latchkey," whispered Hermione, as +she rucked her arm in that of her friend, and the two +struck into an overgrown path that led through the +wood and straight towards the tower. "I also brought +an electric torch," she added. +</p> + +<p> +"Which would be of more use if the power was +turned on now," observed the other, dryly, "for then +we shouldn't fracture our skulls against these trees. +It's a blessing we are neither of us afflicted with +nerves, or subject to hysterics, for I never saw +anything quite so grizzly as this wood in the whole of my +life. It's also rather a comfort to realize that we +are both insane and not afraid to own it." +</p> + +<p> +Never was half a mile so quickly traversed; and +towards the end of it the elder woman was more than +a little out of breath. +</p> + +<p> +"We are close by now," whispered Hermione, +encouragingly. She had switched off the light some +time ago for fear it might be seen by whoever was in +the tower. "The wood and the path end here and +there is nothing but soft grass right up to the tower. +Now don't you think it would be best for you to wait +here and let me go by myself? I promise to call you +if anything is wrong, but I don't think we shall find +anyone, for there is no light and not a sound even." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm glad to hear it, my dear," replied Iza Marsh, +crisply, "we should have looked pretty if there had +been; and you can certainly go on if you like, but +I'm coming, too, though I can't go as quickly as you +can up this hill. It's a blessing we don't have to go +in for tight lacing these days or I should not have been +able to come at all." +</p> + +<p> +So Hermione set off to climb to the steep incline, +and presently she was beneath the wall of the old +round tower, which, now that her eyes were accustomed +to the darkness, she could see clearly rising +above her. She paused a moment and listened. +</p> + +<p> +There was a sound, after all, faint and rhythmic, +but she could not for the moment make out what it +was. Quickly she rounded the tower and came out +upon the edge of the cliff, which dropped sheer down +to the beach below, but in whose rocky sides a winding +path was cut, ending in steps up to the door of the +tower by which she now found herself standing. And +now the sound she had heard was quite distinct and +she recognized it for that of the throbbing of an +engine. And as she listened and the sound grew more +faint, she realized that it came from a motor-boat +fast leaving the shore. There were no lights, nothing +but the chug-chug of the engine, and her beating heart +sounded to her straining ears almost as loud as the +throbbing of the engine itself. +</p> + +<p> +Then, presently, as she watched, there came the tiny +flicker of light far out, and she understood the +meaning of the signals she had seen from her window. +Someone in the tower must have signalled a warning +to a ship out at sea, represented now by that tiny +light. Then followed a summons to send a boat +ashore to take off whoever was there. It was true, +then, that smuggling was going on there, and +someone must have been in the tower all the time, even +when the inspector was there watching on the night +before. They must have known of his departure and +then signalled to be taken off to the ship while there +was a chance. It was all clear, that part of it, quite +clear. What was not so clear was where these +people had been hidden, and what, actually, they +were doing. +</p> + +<p> +She wondered, as she stood there, if she dare turn +on her light and have a look into the tower room. +There was the risk that someone would notice it out +at sea and the smugglers return to molest her. But on +second thought she knew this fear to be groundless, +for, having got safely away, they would not be likely +to return and risk capture—possibly by the police +who, for all they knew, might have come back in +force. So, nerving herself to face and find whatever +might be there, she switched on the light, found the +iron handle of the old oak door, pushed it open, and +flashed her light inside. +</p> + +<p> +The room was empty, save, as she had remembered +it, for the table and chair that Dominic had used and +the sight of which brought that horrible aching lump +to her throat, as did anything that reminded her of +him. +</p> + +<p> +She went in and flashed the light round the walls. +</p> + +<p> +There in its place in the wall, that was built into +the rocky cliff itself, was the old clock, staring down +at her with its many dials, and its rusty and seemingly +immovable hands. But it told no time, and could +tell her nothing else that went on there in the old +tower—though could it but have spoken, what a tale +it might have told. So, with a sigh for that day when +Dominic Arden had shown it to her and hinted at a +secret connected with it, and which now she could +never learn, she turned away, gave a hurried glance +at the little door which opened on to winding steps +leading to the top of the tower, and wondered if she +should go up. +</p> + +<p> +As she hesitated she heard footsteps outside and +presently Iza Marsh was with her panting and almost +speechless. +</p> + +<p> +"No one, of course?" she gasped. +</p> + +<p> +"No, not a soul nor a sign of anything," was the +reply. "But now that you are here I'll just go up to +the top of the tower and see if there is anything to +be seen there." +</p> + +<p> +"Gracious, child! Don't do that!" exclaimed the +other. "Supposing there is someone up there!" +</p> + +<p> +"I think they've all gone," said Hermione. "In +fact, I'm almost sure, so I'm not so brave as it looks, +after all. But they may have left traces, so I feel I +ought to go and see. Wait for me here and don't move." +</p> + +<p> +Then she climbed the narrow winding steps and +came out upon the tiny ramparts where the sea breeze +blew coldly on her face. But here also there was +nothing, and since there was neither sign of a match +nor drop of oil splashed on the stone floor or +battlements, she guessed that the signals she had seen must +have been from a large electric lamp. +</p> + +<p> +The chug-chug of the departing boat was audible +still, and she hurried down to her friend who was +alone in the dark. +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing," she said. "No one there, nor yet a +sign of anyone having been there." +</p> + +<p> +"What does it all mean, my dear?" asked the elder +woman. +</p> + +<p> +"Hush! Listen. Do you hear that?" +</p> + +<p> +There had been silence out at sea for a moment, +but now once more Hermione heard the rhythmic +throb of engines, and more powerful engines than +she had heard before. +</p> + +<p> +"It's a large motor-boat," she whispered. "And a +smaller one came in to fetch whoever it was away, +returned to the other waiting one out there, and now +they are off. What can it mean but smuggling, +Marshy?" +</p> + +<p> +"It's certainly a motor-boat we hear," was the +reply, "and if you say you heard one going away from +here, it can mean only one thing—smuggling. Well, +well, well, and at my time of life to be hunting +after a pack of smugglers! And now, what do you +propose to do, my dear? I mean, of course, after +we have retired to our downies and are once more +conducting ourselves like sane and normal females." +</p> + +<p> +"I can't tell you now," was the reply, "I feel too +bewildered to think coherently. Of course, something +has got to be done, that's certain, but we shall be +better able to know where we are if we can get a good +night's sleep...." +</p> + +<p> +"At any rate, those smuggling beggars shan't +frighten us out of that," agreed Iza Marsh. +</p> + +<p> +But there was little sleep for Hermione that night, +even after she found herself once more between the +sheets, this time with curtains drawn and in a +darkened room. +</p> + +<p> +For there were questions which hammered at her +brain and would neither let her think clearly nor yet +find oblivion in sleep. And the questions were these: +how, in the first place, did those people who had been +at the tower that night know of its existence there? +And how did they know also of the secret hiding-place +which it held? For it was obvious that they must +have known and had therefore been told of it by +someone who knew of it. And who knew of it? To +her knowledge there was only one man who did. +Dominic Arden had told her there was a secret +attached to the old place, that he alone knew of and had +worked for months to discover. He told her this on +the day before he left for France, and three months +later he had died without returning home. His father +and mother were ignorant of what the secret was, he +had definitely told her so. And then the place had +been sold to a wealthy profiteer who had made no use +of it, and had scarcely ever been there. +</p> + +<p> +Betty MacIvor and her husband—who had died a +year ago—had been the caretakers. But it was a wild +outlandish part of the world and led to nowhere, +therefore few, if any, strangers ever came that way. +And this tale of smuggling had been lately started. +Surely had anyone lived in the tower a light must +have been seen at some time before this, but it was +only lately that suspicion had arisen. +</p> + +<p> +What, then, was she to think, save that Dominic +Arden was still the only man who knew the secret of +the tower, and therefore that Dominic was alive +and had come there—for what? Smuggling? Law-breaking? +The thought revolted her and yet would +not leave her. For she knew his reckless, dare-devil +spirit that side of his nature which was so curiously +unlike the other tender, artistic side that could sit +and dream and put his fancies into wonderful words +on paper. There had always been two Dominic +Ardens—the man who adored and had married her and +in whose tender arms she had nestled, and the man +who had committed murder, recklessly, in a moment +of ungovernable rage because her fair name had been +befouled by a notorious libertine, and who was +therefore, in his eyes, no longer fit to live. +</p> + +<p> +It was the tender, adoring Dominic Arden who +would stay away, breaking his heart sooner than drag +her into his shame and misery. But it was the Dominic +Arden who had done murder, who would turn reckless +and bitterly defiant if anything served to awaken +that bitter and reckless temper. Had that thing +happened? Was it possible that he had also sought +her, as she had—fruitlessly—sought for him? +</p> + +<p> +Rapidly she surveyed the years that had passed. +Her terrible illness after the news of his death had +been broken to her; her age-long recovery, lengthened +by poverty. Then her fruitless search—in case, after +all, he might not be dead. After that her search for +work; her engagement as companion to Lady Maude +Haslop—an angel of goodness if ever there was one; +her travels abroad where, in Rome, she had first met +Adolf Rodenberg. His constant pursuit of her—Lady +Maude's advice which ended, at last, in capitulation, +and her final goal—the buying back of Ardenmore, +a sufficient motive for her act. And then at long last, +release and her journey here. +</p> + +<p> +Was it possible, reviewing all these past events, +that Dominic, too, if alive, had been seeking her, and +without daring to return to his home, had heard of +her marriage, had believed she had forgotten him, +and, in utter recklessness and anger, had indeed +returned, but this time to flout the law of the land +which would hang him if it could—in the only way +he knew? It seemed, on the face of it, the only +possible solution. And if it were so she could not find it +in her heart to reproach him. It would explain so many +things, too. For if he had heard that the place had +been sold once more, he would return, perhaps, to get +possession of those pictures and the books he loved. +</p> + +<p> +Would it explain, too, that scrap of paper? Had he +dropped it there knowing who had bought his home, +in order to remind her of something she had perhaps +forgotten? +</p> + +<p> +No, that was too cruel, he would never do that. +He could not know who had bought his home, he +might not even have heard whom she had married. +In any case there was some other explanation for that +paper, and—finally, and after all—was she not quite +mad even to suppose that he was alive at all? +</p> + +<p> +That was her last thought before finally she fell +asleep in the grey hours of the morning. +</p> + +<p> +But when, at breakfast, her friend asked if she was +going to send word to Inspector Mackay about the +occurrences of the night, her reply was decided. +</p> + +<p> +"No," she said, emphatically, "I am not going to +tell him a word about it. But I am going to wire to +Frank Daneham and ask him to come here at once." +</p> + +<p> +"And that my dear," replied the elder woman, "is +the most sensible thing I have ever known you do." +</p> + +<p> +After which enigmatical reply Hermione was singularly +thoughtful and silent. For did it mean that +Iza Marsh, in her heart of hearts, believed what she +once more was striving not to believe? If not, for a +law-abiding woman like Iza, it was a singular way of +helping Inspector Mackay in his investigations. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER VI +<br><br> +A FRIEND IN NEED +</h2> + +<p> +When Frank Daneham got into his sleeper at Euston +Station, Henry Addison was standing on the platform +seeing him off. +</p> + +<p> +"If it had not been that my wife's been by her +lonesome all these months while I was away in the +wilds, I'd have come with you and begged the hospitality +of your lovely lady Hermione," he said with a +smile; "as it is, I'm a fixture here, and can only beg +for frequent letters." +</p> + +<p> +"Right, old man, you shall hear anything that +happens. Of course, I know nothing. Only got that +wire asking me to go to her at once—that she was in +trouble and needed me and so, of course, that was +enough for me. I just wired for a day's grace to put +my house—I mean my studio—in order, and here I +am, going into goodness knows what. For you can +take it from me that if Hermione says there is trouble, +then trouble there is, and she is far too unselfish to +drag me away from my work unless there is good +cause for so doing. But for the life of me I can't +imagine what it is, unless my queer dreams or +imaginings have come true and she has found traces of +young Arden." +</p> + +<p> +"But would she call that trouble?" +</p> + +<p> +"It would, of course, depend on what the traces +are," was the reply. "Halloa! There's that +confounded bore Alec Crosby, and he spots me. Do you +know him?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not I, who is he?" +</p> + +<p> +"He and his brother made a cart-load of money in +the War, tinned stuffs or something: pushers, and got +in with people. The brother's not a bad sort; straight, +I believe; both bounders and this one a bore." +</p> + +<p> +As he finished speaking a rather stout, florid-faced +man in light tweeds came towards them, stopped at +sight of Daneham, and came up to the window. His +tweed cap was pushed into a voluminous pocket, and +the fair, rather curly hair was blowing about in a +slight evening breeze. He grinned as he leant across +the open window. +</p> + +<p> +"You off salmon fishing, too?" he inquired. +</p> + +<p> +"N-no—that is yes, of course. Where are you +going?" Daneham's manner was not cordial, but the +other appeared not to notice it and continued to grin +vacuously. +</p> + +<p> +"Stayin' with my brother, John. He's got a tidy +little place not many miles from Locharbie, and about +twenty miles from Ardenmore. You know Ardenmore? +Place the rich widow Rodenberg bought lately. +Never heard such a rummy go in my life. What a +woman of her sort wants to go and buy a rotten old +tumbledown barn of a place for like Ardenmore, beats +me hollow. Not got a telephone even. Burn candles +and live on grass. Must have gone dotty." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't think so. Besides, she is a friend of +mine, and I happen to be going up to stay with her." +</p> + +<p> +The grin on the other's face died for a second, but +reappeared again almost directly. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, sorry. No offence, mate. I was only speaking +the mind and airing the views of the plain man in +the street. There's no accounting for tastes, never was, +never will be—as the waiter said when he—Ah! +There's my luggage. Thought the porter had pinched +it, he, he!" he chuckled inanely. "Well, so long. We +shall be quite a lively party up at the Glen. Lots of +old pals going, among 'em old Dick Bessington. Know +him, don't you? Everyone knows Dick Bessington, +smartest looking fellow in town." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, so he's going, is he?" asked Frank Daneham, +surprised out of his usual boredom into asking a +question of this man. +</p> + +<p> +"'Tis yourself that sez it, me bhoy. He's going, and +going to stay. Friend of old John's. Can't say he fills +me with any degree of enthusiasm, myself. A bit +sticky, heavy in hand on occasion. Comes the blinkin' +colonel over a feller at times. Forgets he's left the +service—which was the rottenest thing he ever did, +by the way, and that's that, and it's his funeral and +not mine. However, as there's no war on just now, it +don't matter really, I suppose. Finest revolver shot +in Europe; too, I wonder he lets his talent go rusty +living here, and don't go out to the U.S.A. for a bit +of practice. He—he! Well, time goes and I see the +folk busy scrambling into their little nests. So +good-bye, see you at our next changing place. And in the +meantime to dine—to drink, and then to sleep." And +with a wave of his stick he walked dawn the platform. +</p> + +<p> +"Damnation take the fellow!" said Daneham. +"What's he going there for?" +</p> + +<p> +"Who, Crosby?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, Bessington." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I suppose salmon fishing, too." +</p> + +<p> +"No, no. I mean—well, you know Hermione told +me before she went north that he had promised to +leave her alone for a month, and now it appears he is +going to stay twenty miles away from her." +</p> + +<p> +Addison smiled. +</p> + +<p> +"You've got a bee in your bonnet, old man," he +said. "If he does go and stay twenty miles off, it +doesn't necessarily mean that he is going to molest +the lady. What's the idea? Do you think +he's—well—not playing straight?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know what to think, I don't like Dick +Bessington, never have liked him, and as I told you, +I always have that feeling that he suspects me of +knowing something more of the Arden affair than I +have owned to. Perhaps it's my bad conscience. +Anyway, if he distrusts me, all I can say is that the +distrust is mutual. Ah! We're off. Well, good-bye, +old chap. I'll write you if anything awkward happens, +and I suppose I can count on you if I want a pal's +help?" +</p> + +<p> +"To the death," was the reply, as the thin, rather +weather-beaten killer of big game wrung his departing +friend's hand. Then he turned and walked down the +empty platform, and Frank Daneham flung himself +on his comfortable seat and fell to thinking again. +</p> + +<p> +What did she want him for? What could have +happened? It was only on the day after her arrival +that she had sent for him. Surely nothing very serious +could have occurred in that short time. And yet it +was possible and, in consequence, he was anxious and +worried. One thing only had he not confided to his +friend, Addison, and that was the fact that his feeling +for Hermione Rodenberg was far more than simple +friendship. He had loved her—hopelessly as he +knew—ever since he had known her, and no one save +himself knew his secret. Not for the world would he have +let her see what he felt, though often he had +wondered if she guessed. If she had she showed no sign +but always treated him as a dear friend in whom she +had absolute trust and confidence. She knew there was +nothing he would not do for her whatever it might +cost him, and he knew that she was aware of this and +was glad to feel that she had no scruples in making +use of him whenever she needed him. It was an +unspoken, understood compact between them. And +he liked to be made use of by her and was happiest +when she needed him. +</p> + +<p> +And now he was hurrying on a journey of over +seven hundred miles to answer her call for aid, and he +had not the slightest idea for what she wanted him, +only that she did want him, and that was all-sufficient. +</p> + +<p> +Over twenty-four hours later he got out of the local +train at Ardenmore station and found her waiting +on the platform. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, my dear good friend." Hermione held out +both hands which were seized in a warm clasp. "How +good of you to come, and I feel such a brute for +dragging you away from your beloved London and your +work. But what was I to do?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing but what you have done," he replied. +"Are you alone? Driving yourself?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, quite alone. I thought I could tell you all +about it on our way home. The grizzly porter has put +your luggage in, so we can go." +</p> + +<p> +"Now," said Frank Daneham, as the car started +on its twenty mile journey, "tell me all about it. +I know it must be serious or you wouldn't have sent +for me." +</p> + +<p> +"It is," she replied, and told him, from the very +beginning, when her secretary had hinted at the +rumour of smuggling, on to the visit of Inspector +Mackay. +</p> + +<p> +He listened intently to her story without speaking, +and then: "And you discovered something—after +he went?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, at about eleven o'clock, from my bedroom +window I saw a red light from the top of the tower, +followed by a green one and then red again, so I +dressed and——" +</p> + +<p> +"Good God! You don't tell me that you went out +there by yourself?" exclaimed Daneham in horrified +tones. +</p> + +<p> +"No, Marshy heard me and insisted on going with +me. She even took her revolver." +</p> + +<p> +"And a deuced sensible thing to do, too. Why! +My dear girl! It was sheer madness for you to have +gone at all. What on earth possessed you? Even if +there were smugglers at work, what business was it +of yours? Especially when such grave danger was +attached to it." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, as it happens it was my business," she +replied gravely. "You see, I haven't told you everything +yet. I only wanted first to make it clear that +there was something odd going on at the tower. And +though actually I saw nothing when we got there, I +heard the sound of a motor-engine out at sea, a boat, +I thought, taking whoever was there out to a ship, +or probably a large motor-boat, for later I heard that, +too, going away." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, yes. I realize all that, my dear," cried +Daneham. "But tell me what possessed you to go +there at all? What motive had you in feeling so much +interest, that you would run a grave risk of that sort? +I confess it's beyond me at present." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you see, the inspector found something when +he was searching the place," she replied, slowly. +"It gave me a dreadful shock when he showed it to +me for it was a bit of paper on which was written a +date, and the date was Monday, December the 3rd, +1917. Now do you see why I had to go when I saw +that light?" +</p> + +<p> +The man sitting beside her could not have prevented +the violent start he gave as he heard her statement +any more than he could help the ejaculation that +fell from his lips. +</p> + +<p> +"Good God!" And then silence, while both stared +with unseeing eyes at the grey road before them, +neither daring to speak, both fearing least they should +say too much if they did. +</p> + +<p> +It was the man who spoke first, and his voice was +dry and husky. +</p> + +<p> +"Poor girl. Poor little woman." And there was +that in the voice which told Hermione at last what +she had secretly feared and now knew for a certainty. +And her heart ached for him and marvelled, too, at +the wonderful self-restraint, which had kept his love +for her a secret until now. The next instant she had +turned her head, and for a moment smiled bravely +into his working face. +</p> + +<p> +"And so you, too, have believed what I have begun +to believe?" she said. +</p> + +<p> +Silence again, while he chose his words. +</p> + +<p> +"If I said yes to that," he began, "I should convict +myself of a grave crime in not having told you of my +belief before you married Rodenberg. But I cannot +truthfully say that I did, not at least until lately—for +some utterly unaccountable reason. And even +now, after what you have told me, reason and common +sense tell me that such an idea is impossible, and that +this written date—extraordinary coincidence though +it may be—has nothing to do with poor Dominic Arden. +Yet I understand how you must feel about it, and +knowing this now, I can't conceive of your doing +anything else except what you did in going out to +investigate that night. It must have been an appalling +shock for you, little woman." +</p> + +<p> +"And it wasn't only that," she went on. "You see, +before all this happened, I had gone into the turret +room at the house—the one he used as his den—and +I missed the pictures from the walls, and his favourite +books from their shelves. They were all there down in +the inventory, for Mr. Bray showed it to me, and I +knew that the old Ardens had let everything go when +they sold the house. They kept nothing even of his, +and you know I was ill for so long and had no chance +to ask for them for myself. And it was an added joy +to me to think that I was buying them all back, and +a great shock when I found them gone that evening." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I see that. And you account for it, how?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I thought that if that paper meant anything +connected with him, then it was possible that he had +been here and taken those things away, knowing that +the house was sold again and he might not have +another chance." +</p> + +<p> +"It's possible of course, but—" Daneham shook +his head. "Can you for one moment believe that he +would—granted that he is alive—risk life and liberty, +to say nothing of chucking his honour to the winds, +to embark in a lawless, criminal enterprise, such as +smuggling? My dear girl, the thing's impossible." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, but I disagree with you there," she cried. "I +do believe that he would do that, and worse if he felt +completely up against it. I mean, for instance, if he +heard I had married and misconstrued my motives." +</p> + +<p> +"But Hermione, my dear, it is nine years since he +went out of our lives. Surely he had time to try and +get into touch with you had he wanted to. And seeing +that he did not, surely he can't feel aggrieved if +you—thinking him actually dead—chose to marry again." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, yes, I know all that, but how do you know all +the circumstances? Look how Fate treated me. For +a whole year I was dead to the world. Later, I had to +look out for the means to live. Then Lady Maude +took me with her over the world. In all that time he +may have come to find me. Who knows what may +have happened? And so it may be with him." +</p> + +<p> +Daneham shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +"No," he said. "With him it was quite different. +When he left me that night he gave me definitely to +understand, and also to convey to you, that he was +dead, dead to you and to everyone. That meant that, +whatever happened, he would never return to his old +life, never bring those he loved into his own troubles. +In a way he was right, for time heals and it was best +for you to think of him really dead than to imagine +what might happen did he return again and meet his +punishment. No, my dear, that message was a +message to you, telling you that you were free to live +your own life, and had no more concern with him. +He would not, therefore, feel any anger or bitterness +at your marrying again, of that I am sure. I am +equally sure that he would not take part in a criminal +smuggling adventure." +</p> + +<p> +"There I disagree, though I admit that you are +probably right in the rest. I believe that the devil +that is in him would just glory in doing something +unlawful of that kind. Who knows what he may have +been doing in all these years? Besides, I can't look +upon smuggling as a crime, somehow. It seems to me +quite permissible to try and outwit the law, if the law +puts such heavy taxes on things as to almost strangle +trade. I should just glory in doing it myself." +</p> + +<p> +Daneham laughed. +</p> + +<p> +"How like a woman," he said. "I often wonder +what odd twist in their reasoning powers it is which +can make them frown at one sort of crime—theft, let +us say—and smile at another—equally reprehensible +in the eyes of the law—smuggling. Look, for instance, +how many otherwise reputable females have been +caught by the Customs officers actually smuggling on +their own account, and who are, I feel sure extremely +indignant at being hauled up and heavily fined, +and not in the least ashamed of being caught in +committing a felony. No, my dear, it won't do. Smuggling +is theft of what is lawfully due to the Government, +there are no two ways about it. And if Dominic is +alive and is embarking on such an enterprise, then he +has changed very much from the lad who walked out +that night to meet his fate, and who renounced what +he held more dear than life itself, because it would be +best for her in the end. No, no. I have too much faith +in the dear fellow to believe that, and since I can +only give that as my verdict, then I think we must +put away all thoughts of him in connection with this +affair, and look upon that scrap of paper as sheer +coincidence, and the vanishing of the pictures and +books as a mistake on the part of whoever it was who +drew up that inventory." +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Hermione, decidedly. "Old Betty said +they were here and that she didn't know who had +taken them or how they had gone. And remember +that Mr. Bray saw them, too." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, then, let us leave it for the moment and +look into this smuggling business, apart from any +connection with poor old Dominic. How could anyone +know of that tower and apparently of some secret +place of concealment? For from your account, the +smugglers must actually have been there when the +inspector spent the night at the tower." +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly. How could anyone know who was not +told or shown by the one person who knew, and that +was Dominic? He was the only one who knew of it. +Don't you see?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I see that, but let us leave it for the moment. +Now here again, how could they know when to come? +I mean, know when the house was empty or the field +clear? They couldn't know unless someone here—that +is, actually on the premises—was giving secret +information. Do you suppose then that they have all +cleared out, or is one of them left behind? Or—which +is probably more likely—is there someone +living here who is in league with them?" +</p> + +<p> +"That we shall have to find out," she replied. "At +present there is a policeman on the watch, and, of +course, since they have gone—frightened away by the +inspector I suppose—he'll have his watch for nothing." +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly. Well, we can see as to that. We might, +in fact, set a trap. That is, get the police fellow off +the place, and then see if they return. If they do we +shall know that they are helped by some one in the +place." +</p> + +<p> +"Unless one of them is still in the tower," +suggested Hermione, but to this Daneham disagreed. +</p> + +<p> +"No, no. That's not possible. He would have to +eat and drink and could not possibly come out if a +watcher was actually in the tower. I think for the +present, my dear, our best plan is to eliminate all +thought of Dominic from our minds and treat the +matter as a common criminal enterprise by a set of +smugglers who will have to be trapped and punished. +I am extraordinarily glad that you have sent for +me, because I shall enjoy the excitement of it immensely, +my only fear being that the fellows are scared +off for good and all. I wonder, by the way, +how they get the goods away after landing them." +</p> + +<p> +"In a car. I believe one has been seen going along +the Ardenmore road and apparently vanishing into +space." +</p> + +<p> +"In that case the car may be there now," said +Daneham gravely, "but where on earth do they keep +it? Well, that is for us to investigate. I suppose you +told nothing of your night's experience to the +inspector?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing. I simply couldn't." +</p> + +<p> +"I see, and for the time, until we know more, I +don't see how you can, but it looks rather like being +accessories after the fact, doesn't it? However, there +it is, and now for a bit of news from me, which I must +tell you because you ought to know. I hear that Dick +Bessington is going to stay at the Crosby's place about +twenty miles from here." +</p> + +<p> +The car swerved suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh!" cried Hermione. "Why is he going there?" +</p> + +<p> +"Presumably for salmon fishing." But she shook +her head. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't believe that. Somehow, I had a sort of odd +feeling that he would follow me in spite of what he +said, and—do you know, Frank, that I am rather +afraid of him?" +</p> + +<p> +"Afraid? Nonsense. Why afraid?" +</p> + +<p> +"I can't explain. It's all mixed up with Dominic +and his—Bessington's—connection with it. +And—and—Oh, sometimes I feel that something dreadful +is going to happen, and that Dick Bessington will have +something to do with it. Don't laugh at me, Frank." +</p> + +<p> +But he was very far from laughing, for that, in very +much the same words, was what he feared himself, +though he would have died sooner than tell her so. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER VII +<br><br> +A TALK WITH INSPECTOR MACKAY +</h2> + +<p> +John Crosby, the proud owner of the Glen, had just +been seeing two of his fishermen guests off in the car +that was to take them to the river for a day's salmon +fishing, and as it was a very fine day with an +exhilarating breeze blowing straight from the sea, John +Crosby, who was affected by the weather, was feeling +in fine fettle and very pleased with himself and life +generally. And on the occasion when he felt like +that he generally took a stroll round the extensive +grounds-gardens and glasshouses, which latter, +had they been extended in a single line, would have +covered nearly a quarter of a mile in length. And +while he thus strolled he congratulated himself on the +possession of all these things, and the fact that it was +solely owing to his own and his brother Alec's hard +work that had made it possible for him to possess +them. +</p> + +<p> +It was extremely gratifying to feel, as he looked +around him, that whereas the old aristocracy had +merely inherited their possessions, he and his brother +had actually worked for them. True, the War had +materially helped to increase the profits in +double-quick time, and so shortened the years of toil and +enable them to retire with immense wealth at a +comparatively early age. But then, so much the better; +so much more could he and old Alec appreciate and +enjoy the good things of life. +</p> + +<p> +Their money also had made for them many friends—or +rather acquaintances—among a class which, +once exclusive, was now only too glad to take the +goods the gods gave, even if they were handed out by +retired traders (or, as they preferred to term them, +profiteers) of the stamp of Crosby Bros. And, +knowing that such a class liked to catch salmon, shoot +grouse, and stalk deer—free of expense if possible—the +elder Crosby had chosen for his home the sort of +place in the kind of country that would supply all these +things in abundance, full measure and running over. +And he was lucky in that he found after purchase—that +the supply did indeed equal the demand. For +he had the best fishing, the finest grouse moor and the +largest and best-stocked deer forest in that part of the +country and, in consequence, his house was usually +filled with the best people, his happiness being finally +crowned on the day when two titled heads walked +through the massive portals of his dwelling-house. +</p> + +<p> +On this occasion, however, titles were lacking, but, +nevertheless, his party consisted of some of the best +blood in the land, among whom his brother, Alec, +was the only jarring note. But even that note ceased +to jar when it became apparent that Colonel +Bessington—the ultra-smart man-about-town—had, or +seemingly had, taken a fancy to him. +</p> + +<p> +As far as John Crosby was concerned, Alec was +welcome to the colonel's attentions—if they could be +termed such. He was glad of Bessington's presence +there, because it gave to his party a certain cachet—in +his own words, "classy tone"—but he did not like +the man himself, and was even accused by his wife of +showing his dislike. +</p> + +<p> +"Sorry, my dear, don't mean to, but I can't help it +I s'pose," he replied. "When I likes a chap I shows it, +always did and always shall, and when I don't like +him I don't want him near me. Only we've got to +have him, 'cos it'll give a blinkin' tone to the show, +and I do my best to bottle up my feelings. There's +something about him..." +</p> + +<p> +"Fiddlesticks!" snapped his wife, sharply. "His +manners are perfect and his style—well there! if +you had his style there'd be nothing to complain of. +But that's just it, it's born and bred in him, and you'll +never be like that not if you live to be a hundred. +What's your grouse about him!" she went on, rather +exasperated at her husband's silence, which was +unusual: "It can't be his looks because he's said to +be one of the best-looking cha—men in London. And +he is, too. There's something really das—distinguished +about him. His figure, for instance—" +</p> + +<p> +"Tailor's dummy," cut in her husband. +</p> + +<p> +"Not at all, John. It's just perfect. As for his +face, why he's right down handsome—" +</p> + +<p> +"Wouldn't have to make much if he ever played +Old Nick," said John Crosby with a dry chuckle. +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean?" demanded his lady, tartly. +</p> + +<p> +"What I say, my dear. Not that Old Nick ain't +considered a very smart-looking chap, so there's no +offence meant. But it isn't his looks, which are well +enough in their way. It's that he don't talk enough, +not what you might call entertaining. No smart +repartee as you might say, no funny stories—" +</p> + +<p> +"And all the better for that. I'm sure some of the +stories you gave me that Lord Harlington told at +dinner last year were enough to give you a permanent +wave without the expense." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, he's a sport if you like," said her husband, +with a chuckle. "The sort of chap that does one +credit to 'ave in the 'ouse—" +</p> + +<p> +"H-ave in the h-ouse, John, <i>please</i>," remarked his +wife, emphasizing the aspirates in determined fashion. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, of course, my mistake. But you get my meaning +all the same, don't you, my dear?" +</p> + +<p> +"I must say I prefer the colonel. He's much more +of the real aristocrat to my mind, in spite of the +other's title. And I like his silent manner. It's +very—very—Well, it's like the nice men in Miss +what's-her-name's books, you know. There seems to be +something behind it all." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! you're right there, and that's just what I +object to," said John Crosby, who, with all his faults, +had had the reputation of being open and honest in +his dealings with those around him. "There is +something behind it. Something—now what's the word I +want? Something to do with a coat-of-arms when +you're born the wrong side of the blanket." +</p> + +<p> +"John, don't be vulgar. You mean sinister—the +bar sinister. But I'm sure <i>he's</i> all right in that line. +There are no vulgar stories connected with the +Bessingtons, I'm sure." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not alluding to what his father may have +done, Jenny. It's about himself I'm speaking. Sinister's +the word I wanted, and it ain't connected with bars +or blankets. It's just himself that's wrong, somehow, +and yet I can't lay my finger on anything particular +that is wrong. It's just my feelings, same as I used to +have when engaging a clerk for the office. I'd size +him up quick-like. Something about him what didn't +seem straight, and yet he appeared right enough. +And <i>I</i> was right, too, for when I engaged young Joe +Blake—you remember him?—against that feeling +which told me <i>not</i> to engage him, what happened? +Why, the accounts were wangled, of course, and he +got away with——" +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind all that now, John," snapped his wife. +"That part of our lives is over and done with, thank +God. We are gentry now, and must behave as such. +There, go away and see Mr. Myles Transon and Captain +Leslie off in the Rolls, and see that Bennings has +put in all they want—the champagne and all the rest +of it. And remember that that police person, Mackay, +from Locharbie, was coming to see you about that +young gardener you were asking about, and that he'll +be here at eleven o'clock. So you had better go and +meet him, as we don't want policemen seen about the +house, it gives a bad tone to a place." And with that +she left her husband to fulfill the duties she had +mentioned, and went off to undertake her own. +</p> + +<p> +So John Crosby saw his two guests off and then +went for a stroll round his domain. Interviewed the +head gardener, a dour individual, who, if he lacked +for polish, was second-to-none at his own particular +job. Returned to the house, looked with possessive +admiration at the nobly-turreted structure, and nearly +cannoned into Richard Bessington as he came round +the corner on to the drive. +</p> + +<p> +"Beg pardon, I'm sure. My fault. Wasn't looking +where I was going," said John Crosby, apologetically. +</p> + +<p> +Bessington showed an upper row of gleaming teeth +in a smile. "Don't mention it," he said. "I was going +to ask you if I might put in a bit of revolver practise +at your targets." +</p> + +<p> +"A'course, if you want to. But I thought you were +such a dab hand with the little automatic that it +wasn't necessary." +</p> + +<p> +"One gets rusty and out of practise in this country," +was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +"You should join a gang of up-to-date crooks, +Colonel," sad Crosby with a laugh. "That'd keep you +busy. Or a Wild West show." +</p> + +<p> +"Hardly in my line, either of them, I'm afraid," +was the reply, and there was a hint of annoyance in +the tone. +</p> + +<p> +"No, no, 'course not. Only my joke. Go and practise +all you want, Colonel. I'm just off down the drive +to meet Inspector Mackay from Locharbie. Don't +want the police going up to the house, you know. So +I thought I'd kill two birds and have a walk as well." +</p> + +<p> +"Not any trouble, is there?" inquired the other, +mildly interested. +</p> + +<p> +"No, no. Nothing of that sort. I wanted another +gardener, and heard that a chap I was after wasn't +quite the right sort, so I asked Mackay to find out if +there was anything against him and he's coming over +to-day to see me. Care to come for a walk, or p'raps +you'd rather go to the targets." +</p> + +<p> +"No, that will do later. I'll certainly come. I have +met Mackay before, you know." +</p> + +<p> +So the ill-assorted pair set off together, the +one—good-looking, lean, clad in light tweeds of perfect +cut, the shapely legs seen to advantage in woollen +stockings to match. The other—under medium size, +stout, ungainly, in homespun whose check was just too +loud, and the plus fours just too baggy, but the ugly +face was retrieved from real ugliness by the kindly +expression in the eyes, which was sadly lacking in +those of his companion. +</p> + +<p> +He did not particularly want Richard Bessington's +company, but it did occur to him that perhaps the +inspector's manner—which had struck him as lacking +in respect—might improve at sight of such a +distinguished-looking guest as was Colonel Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +The two had not gone many yards along the high +road—after passing through the lodge gates—when +the blue-clad figure of Inspector Mackay was seen +approaching on his motor-bicycle. +</p> + +<p> +"Morning, Mackay," said Crosby, as the officer +dismounted and saluted. +</p> + +<p> +"Morning, sir." He left his machine near the +stone wall which bordered the road and came towards +the two, his sharp eyes fastened upon the good-looking +guest. +</p> + +<p> +"You have met before, I think, Mackay," said +Crosby. "Colonel Bessington you know, who is +staying with me," he proceeded, unctuously. +</p> + +<p> +"Aye, to be sure! Good morning, sir," said Mackay, +with appraising eyes still on the handsome +figure. "It's a fine day for the fishing, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Splendid," agreed Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, have you found out about young Finlay?" +asked Crosby abruptly. "Anything wrong or not?" +</p> + +<p> +"Naething whatever, sir. You can safely engage +the lad. The pairrson who gave you the information +was mistaken. It's Finlay's brother who is the +good-for-nothing, Jock Finlay, not Robert." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, I'm glad of that. It's not often I'm at fault +in the judgement of a man's character by his looks. +I'll take him, then." +</p> + +<p> +"I'd have him mysel', sir, if I could get him," said +Mackay, "but I can't." +</p> + +<p> +"A sufficient recommendation, I should imagine," +observed Bessington, showing his teeth once more in +a smile. +</p> + +<p> +"Juist so, Colonel." +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose it must be pretty dull for you fellows up +here," went on Bessington, taking a cigarette-case +from his pocket and selecting one from it. "I mean, +nothing much doing in the shape of crime and so on?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ach! We're no' sae badly off for crime, sir," +replied Mackay, seemingly with pride in the statement. +"You'd be surprised if I were to tell you half the +goings-on in Locharbie." +</p> + +<p> +"Indeed? You amaze me. Such an out-of-the-way +unsophisticated part as this. Extraordinary!" Bessington +lit his cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +"You're wrong there," put in Crosby with a grin. +"The more innocent-looking the hamlet the greater +the immorality. Ain't that so, Mackay?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, to be sure you're richt, Mr. Crosby," agreed +the inspector. "Though juist the noo I may say that +we were looking for a job, so to speak, and might still +be looking so far as Locharbie is concerned, if it +hadna' been for the smugglers." +</p> + +<p> +"Smugglers? What, up here?" asked Bessington +in astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +"Here or anywhere where there's a convenient +landing," replied Mackay, darkly, "and where better +than the auld tower over yonder?" he waved a vague +hand northwards. +</p> + +<p> +"Put me wise, Inspector," drawled Bessington. +"This sounds devilish intriguing." +</p> + +<p> +"Smugglers, you say. Well, I'm damned," commented +bluff John Crosby. "Where from? And what +goods are they landing, Inspector? Brandy, eh?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, if I knew that, sir, I wouldna' have to be +tellin' you aboot them. I've had a man on watch in +the tower for ower a week now." +</p> + +<p> +"What tower's that?" asked Bessington, slowly. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, the auld Ardenmore Tower, sir, that stands +out on the sea coast, half a mile from Ardenmore +House." +</p> + +<p> +A sudden glint came to Bessington's eyes. "Ah," +he said. "Yes, I think I've heard of it. The place was +bought lately by—by—let's see, what was the name?" +</p> + +<p> +"You mean the rich widdy, Rodenberg?" put in +Crosby. "Friend of yours, ain't she?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, of course, for the moment I forgot it was she +who had bought it." Bessington puffed at his cigarette +and glanced at the inspector. "Tell me about these +smugglers," he went on. "You say they are landing +the goods at the tower there?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well look here," interrupted Crosby, glancing at +his watch, "if you'll excuse me, Colonel, I'll just go +on to Finlay's cottage, about a mile down the road. +If you're interested in this stunt, I'm not, and so I'll +leave you and Mackay to get on with it." +</p> + +<p> +"Quite," agreed Bessington. "Don't bother about +me." He watched the stout ungainly figure set off +along the road, and then turned once more to +Mackay. "I'm interested in—er—crime," he drawled, +"and this smuggling business sounds intriguing." +</p> + +<p> +"It would be if I could lay my hands on them, sir," +was the reply. "A queer business and no mistake. +We got word that lights were seen signalling out to +sea, and that a motor-car was hearrd on the Ardenmore +road late a' nights, and you see, sir, that road +ends for all practical purrposes at the house itsel', and +the wee bit lane that goes on, goes only to a field. So +I spent a day and night at the tower mesel'." +</p> + +<p> +"And did you find anything?" +</p> + +<p> +"Naething ata' except—no, sir, naething of any +imporrtance." +</p> + +<p> +"You did find something, then?" insisted the other, +quick to hear the hesitation in the man's words. +</p> + +<p> +"Weel, I'll no' be saying that I found naething +ata', and there can be no harrm in telling it to you, +sir," said the garrulous inspector, "for mebbe you +might be able to throw some light on it. I showed it +to the leddie at Ardenmore House, and though she +couldn' gie me an idea as to how it came there she +seemed—" he hesitated, as though for a word. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes. She seemed—upset?" suggested Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +"Aye, that's it, sir, upset. But hear for yoursel'. +What I found was a wee bit paper, maybe torn from +a note-book, and on it was written in block letters the +date—Monday, December the 3rd, 1917," and as he +spoke, Inspector Mackay eyed the good-looking face +keenly. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah?" said Bessington, at last. "A date." There +was not a tremor in his voice, nor a hint of excitement +on his face, and yet, as he listened to Mackay's words, +his heart had missed a beat, and his quick, alert mind +had jumped, as Hermione's had done, to the one +meaning, the one possibility. "Why a date, Inspector? +And where, exactly, did you find it?" +</p> + +<p> +"I found it lying on the shingle betwixt the water's +edge and the tower, sir. I concluded that the pairrson +who had landed, in order to signal from the tower, +had dropped the wee bit paper by mistake—" +</p> + +<p> +"Or possibly with intent," suggested Bessington, +quietly. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah. Mebbe, as you say, with intent." The idea +seemed to strike Mackay as possible. "As a signal, +warning, in code?" he suggested. +</p> + +<p> +"Quite so, or—well, it might mean a hundred +things. Or again, it may have no significance at all, +Inspector, and nothing whatever to do with the +smuggling." +</p> + +<p> +"That's so, sir," Mackay replied, slowly. +</p> + +<p> +"Mrs. Rodenberg was—ah—excited about it, you +say," asked Bessington, casually. +</p> + +<p> +"Weel, I couldna' say that she showed a vera great +deal of excitement, sir. She looked harrd at it, and +seemed to be thinking a good deal." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I see. Well, as a matter of fact, I don't see +how this date can have anything to do with a smuggling +gang operating nine years later. Though, as +you say, it may be a code signal. What exactly are +you doing about it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Juist naething but watch, for the present," was +the reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you might do worse than that." Bessington +waved a hand as though dismissing the subject. "Tell +me, Inspector, have you lived long in this neighbourhood?" +</p> + +<p> +"Bred and borrn in Locharbie, sir, though I've no' +spent the whole of my life in these pairrts." +</p> + +<p> +"I see. But you were possibly acquainted with—or +at least, you knew of the Ardenmores?" +</p> + +<p> +"Verra weel, sir. Though I canna' say that I saw +muckle of them, as I was awa' from Locharbie as a +constable and only came there as inspector within the +last five years. But when I was a boy I used to hear +tell of the Ardenmores of Ardenmore, and when I +was hame on leave I saw the young laird several +times." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, to be sure. Sad thing about his death," +observed Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +"Verra sad, sir. Broke the auld folks' hearts. Kilt +he was, three months after he went out there. I was +mesel' in Gallipoli at the time, but hairrd aboot it +when I came hame." +</p> + +<p> +"You don't know, then, the actual date of his +death?" asked the other, regarding his companion +through half-closed lids. +</p> + +<p> +"Nay, sir. Some time in '17. November or December +or thereaboots." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, so I believe. Well, if you hear any more of +these smuggling fellows, let me know, Inspector. +I am very interested in the matter, and, by the way, +I hope you warned Mrs. Rodenberg to be careful. +That old tower you speak of seems unpleasantly +close." +</p> + +<p> +"To be sure I warned her, and asked her to let me +know if she saw onything suspeecious." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, and she will, I suppose?" +</p> + +<p> +"And why should she not, sir?" replied Mackay, +with a quick glance at the other. +</p> + +<p> +"Why not, of course. Though, as a matter of fact, +I doubt if there is really anything in it after all." +</p> + +<p> +"That remains to be seen, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Quite," agreed Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +"Then I'll be getting back, sir, and if I hear tell +of anything I'll let you know, sir." He crossed over +to his machine. +</p> + +<p> +"Do," said Bessington. In deep thought he retraced +his steps to the Glen, and once in his own +luxurious room, he stood at the window, staring out +towards where, twenty miles away, he knew the sea +to lie. And his mind went back to that tiny bit of +paper lying on the shingle. +</p> + +<p> +"It was not I who dropped it," he thought, as he +drummed with his fingers on the window-sill, "and +Daneham's in London—or rather was at the time +and could not have dropped it. Hermione also could +not have done so. There is only one other who knew +the date, and he was fond of that old place—he knew +every inch of the ground—and now it's being used as +a smuggling base—!" +</p> + +<p> +A slow smile parted his lips, revealing once more +the gleaming row of teeth. +</p> + +<p> +Then he unlocked a dressing-case, took from it a +small automatic, fully loaded, stuffed some cartridges +into his pocket, and, going downstairs, made his way +to the field in which were a row of targets. +</p> + +<p> +He had twelve cartridges altogether, and by the +time he had emptied the automatic and his pocket—standing +for the two final shots at a longer range than +was usual for revolver practise—he had twelve +bull's-eyes to his credit. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER VIII +<br><br> +THE MESSAGE IN THE PAPERS +</h2> + +<p> +An uneventful ten days passed slowly by and found +Hermione and her two friends as far off knowing the +truth of matters—either regarding the smugglers or +their connection with the tower—as they were before. +The watching police officer had made his headquarters +in the tower room, and, being a dour, sour-tempered +man, had refused admittance to anyone save the +relief, who came every three days to add to his store +of food, and take his place for a spell of twenty-four +hours' leave. He expressed his conviction that to stay +there at all was a waste of time, that the tale of +smuggling was bunkum, and that if there was any going on +at all it would be farther south, and not so far from +the French coast, which supposition appeared to be +justified, for soon after a gang was caught in the act a +hundred and fifty miles south, and hauled off to +summary justice. +</p> + +<p> +Exasperated, at length, at being kept out of the +very spot where Hermione and her friend wanted to +investigate, Frank Daneham motored over to Locharbie +and interviewed the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +"Look here," he said, after first of all explaining +how he came to be there and to know all the facts up +to date. "I think it only fair to you to tell you that +you are doing no good by keeping that man on the +watch as you are doing. I am firmly convinced that +secret information is forthcoming from some individual +on the premises, and that as soon as the coast is +clear, and not until—or very soon after, your friends, +the smugglers, will appear again, and if so, we who +are on the spot and unsuspected by them, can send +you word and you will have a chance to catch them." +</p> + +<p> +The inspector eyed his visitor for a moment in +silence, seeming to ponder over what he had heard. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, so that's what you are thinking, sir, are you?" +he said, at last. "Weel, I'm nae sae sure but what you +may be richt. I've thought so mesel'. But I suppose +you'll be having no idea as to who will be giving the +inforrmation?" +</p> + +<p> +"How can I? I don't even know if it is a fact. It +is only theory after all, but I thought it worth while +trying out and seeing what comes of it. At any rate, +it can do no harm, and surely anything is better +than letting that fellow eat his head off in that +god-forsaken tower. And so I thought the best thing I +could do was to come over and see you about it." +</p> + +<p> +"And I'm verra gratefu' to you, sir. But, as a +matter of fact, Headquarters have juist sent worrd to +recall him, as they think the gang that has been +caught furrther south is the one that has been here, +and there'll be no need to watch any mair. All the +same, I'm glad you came, for you may be richt in +your supposeetion. There is still that queer piece of +paper I found on the beach that has to be accounted +for, and I canna' help thinking that something's +going to occur connected with it. The young leddie +seemed sair taken abeck when she read it." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, as a matter of fact," said Daneham, thinking +that the truth was best in this case, "the date on +that bit of paper had a very sad significance for her, +and the coincidence of finding it like that gave her a +nasty shock." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, I see," replied the inspector, who saw just +exactly nothing, but who thought there might be quite +a lot to see if he knew just where to look. He was, +however, quite willing to give—so he expressed it to +himself—this gentleman and the young leddie their +heads for a time, and leave the place unwatched. If +anything happened after that he would know who +to watch in future. At present his policy was to +appear open and confiding and ready to talk. +</p> + +<p> +"I was ower at the Glen, Mr. Crosby's place," he +went on, "a day or so ago, on a matter of beesiness, +and the gentleman there was verra interested in the +matter of the smuggling. One gentleman in parteecular, +Colonel Bessington, whom I had met before +seemed to be muckle keen on hearing all I had to tell." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh!" Daneham gave an imperceptible start. +"And—er—did you—I mean—what exactly did you—that +is, I suppose—you told him all about your +own experiences?" +</p> + +<p> +"I did, sir, juist the whole beesiness, and I told +him aboot the scrap of paper." +</p> + +<p> +"Did you?" said Daneham, and swore under his +breath. What a damned gossiping fellow this fool +policeman was. There could be no possible doubt as +to the construction Bessington would put upon that +date. Connected, too, as it was, with Ardenmore, it +would not be difficult for one, already suspicious, to +suspect what he, Frank Daneham, and Hermione +were beginning to believe was a fact.... Why on +earth couldn't the inspector fellow have kept his mouth +shut about it? It was not as though he could learn +anything from that quarter. Though what, after all, +he argued later, could Bessington do about it? And +what, finally, was there to bother about, seeing that +the whole idea was utterly preposterous and impossible? +</p> + +<p> +He returned to Ardenmore to find Iza Marsh in +violent argument with the new head gardener, +concerning the matter of trees and Hermione's orders. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, anyhow, whether things will grow or won't +grow, Mrs. Rodenberg won't have them cut down, +so that's that. And there you are back again, Frank. +If you want Hermione you'll find her at the tower, +where she went as soon as we heard that the police +person with the crab-apple face and vinegar temper +had taken himself off. It was a bit of impertinence +to have put him there at all in my opinion." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll go and find her then," said Daneham, and after +taking the car round to the garage, he set off along +the path which led to the tower, and in less than +fifteen minutes was striding up the grassy patch to the +tower door. +</p> + +<p> +It stood wide open, and inside the room he found +Hermione sitting on the chair, apparently in deep +thought. She rose quickly as he came in and asked +eager questions, to which her friend gave guarded +replies; at least, in the matter of the part Bessington +had played in the affair, and seemed in all probability +to go on playing. He avoided telling her that the +inspector had mentioned that scrap of paper. +</p> + +<p> +"So our troubles are over for the moment, and now +we can concentrate on investigating this place, and +trying to find out where the deuce those beggars hid +themselves." +</p> + +<p> +"I simply can't imagine," replied Hermione, with +a hopeless gesture. "I have looked everywhere. Under +this floor there is a tiny space with joists and then +solid rock, for I took up a loose board where I +suppose the inspector had looked when he was here. The +walls can hide nothing, for they are only fifteen inches +thick, except at the side where the clock is, and there +comes solid rock again, for that side of the tower is +actually built into the rock. I really have come to +the conclusion that the hiding-place is not in the tower +at all. It must be in the woods." +</p> + +<p> +"How about the clock itself?" asked the other, +eyeing it critically. "Didn't poor old Dominic tell +you that there was a secret attached to it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, he did. But what can it be? It doesn't go—at +least, now. You can move all the hands round +and nothing happens. Look." She opened the glass +front and pointed. "There are numbers all round up +to a hundred, and four hands which fold over each +other, for some reason or other; economy of space I +suppose. Then comes that dial with the names of the +months, and another with numbers up to thirty-one. +In that smaller dial there are the days, then a sort of +barometer, and a disc for the moon, and yet nothing +is in working order." +</p> + +<p> +"But it must have worked at one time," replied +Daneham, "and perhaps that was the secret Dominic +discovered—how to get it going. In fact, that is what +it must have been, and it wouldn't help us even if we +succeeded in finding out. No, my dear, I believe you +are right and that there is some secret place close by +in the woods. So, let's take a walk and do a bit of +investigating. You have done all you can here. Can +we get across the river that runs through the wood, +do you know, or not?" +</p> + +<p> +"I doubt it, for there has been quite a lot of rain +lately. But in any case I am sure there is nothing on +the other side, for the road runs parallel with it for +some way, and no one would choose a hiding-place +near a road, and that, too, ends—as I have discovered, +in a field. Perhaps there is something in that, +for why make a road which ends nowhere, and if it +went on would end in the sea?" +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps it originally went to this old tower," +suggested Daneham, and she nodded. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I never thought of that. Of course, it must +have done." +</p> + +<p> +They closed the tower door and started off for the +pine forest, on a path which in places was rocky and +very hard going. They found the old road nearly +grass-grown, and beside it the broad River Ard, which +eventually emptied itself into the sea, not far from +the tower. Then they followed its course which +wound through the woods, finally disappearing +beneath a mass of rocks, through which was a natural +tunnel, about the height of a medium-sized man, and, +gurgling apparently underground for about thirty or +forty yards, appeared again on the far side of the +rocks, descended in a short cascade, and thence to +the sea. +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing doin' here," commented Frank Daneham, +in a disappointed voice. "Let's go back along +the road and see what happens. The smuggling crowd +are supposed to use the road to convey their goods +by car, and I don't see how they can do it. Personally, +I am beginning to doubt the whole thing." +</p> + +<p> +"You wouldn't say so if you had seen those lights." +</p> + +<p> +"Someone playing tricks to try and frighten you," +he suggested. +</p> + +<p> +"What about the motor-boat I heard?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, still someone fooling about. Having got +hold of the smuggling story, anyone owning a boat +of that description would find it easy." +</p> + +<p> +"You may be right, of course," she admitted. +</p> + +<p> +They continued their walk along the winding road, +which finally left the river to pursue its course alone, +and, turning off sharply, joined the Ardenmore road +at about a quarter of a mile from the entrance gates +to the house. +</p> + +<p> +"I suggest tea, my dear, and your Irish cook's hot +scones. I believe it's a myth, after all." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, we shall see. If, as you say, someone is +supplying them with information from here, then we +shall soon see the light from that tower again. But +then how—if the smugglers are in France—could +anyone give information to them?" +</p> + +<p> +"An advertisement in the papers would meet the +occasion," replied Daneham. "And that, as a matter +of fact, though I sez it meself, is the brightest idea +we've had yet. We'll proceed forthwith to watch the +agony columns." +</p> + +<p> +And as it happened, on the following day there +were several advertisements that might fit the case, +but one in particular which attracted Iza Marsh, who +was as keen on the subject as the other two. +</p> + +<p> +"Listen to this one," she said eagerly. "It sounds +rather the style of thing one might expect—'All +clear. Come again.'" +</p> + +<p> +"Sounds likely," admitted Daneham, sipping his +after-luncheon coffee and frowning. "But who the +deuce can it be?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it can't be the new gardeners," said Hermione. +"And it can't be any of the servants. It could +only be some of the farm-hands, and somehow—from +the look of them—they don't appear to have +the sense or the ability to do it. I can't imagine that +it is anyone here. And then, after all, that +advertisement may not be for that reason at all." +</p> + +<p> +But whether in answer to that particular advertisement +or not, the fact was that, three nights later, +Hermione, lying reading in bed, and happening to +take her eyes from the pages for a second, had, the +next instant, flung the book down beside her, +extinguished the reading-lamp and, looking towards the +open uncurtained window, become aware of a sudden +tingling sensation in her scalp as, away through the +opening in the pine wood, and clear as she had seen it +once before, there shone high above, and seemingly +suspended in the sky, a vivid green light, which, even +as she watched, flickered and went out, leaving her +wondering if she had ever really seen it at all. +</p> + +<p> +The next instant, also as once before, she had flung +on her things and run down the passage, only this +time towards the room in which Frank Daneham slept. +</p> + +<p> +She rapped loudly at the door. +</p> + +<p> +"Frank! May I come in?" There was no answer. +She called and knocked again, but still no reply. +Then, with a feeling of intense uneasiness, she +opened the door and crossed over to the bed. It was +empty, and had not been slept in. And yet he had gone +up to his room over two hours ago, for at that +moment she heard the clock in the hall strike two. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER IX +<br><br> +AN ENGAGING YOUNG CRIMINAL +</h2> + +<p> +Frank Daneham, feeling particularly wide-awake, +entered his bedroom as the clock chimed a quarter +to twelve, and, crossing over to the window, flung it +open. He was a believer in fresh air. The man +James who waited on him, evidently was not. And as +he leant far out and felt the cold night air blow on +his face, the idea occurred to him that a quick walk +of half an hour's duration might induce the sleep—that +at present was very far away—to visit him. He +had experienced sleepless nights before, and he did +not want to renew that experience again. So, going +softly downstairs—for he did not want to disturb the +two ladies—he flung on a coat, pulled a tweed cap +well down over his head, and let himself out of the +door, first of all making sure that the latchkey with +which Hermione had presented him reposed in his +pocket. +</p> + +<p> +Once outside he took a deep breath of the +invigorating air, and was on the point of turning down +the avenue, when something caught his eye. He +was then standing directly opposite to the break in +the trees, which Hermione could see from her window, +and away in the distance he caught the glimmer +of a tiny red light high up in the sky. It was there +for a second and then had disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +A red light! Just what Hermione had seen, and +three days ago that advertisement had appeared in +the paper. +</p> + +<p> +The conjunction of occurrences was too obvious to +be ignored. +</p> + +<p> +He set off at a run down the path, which by now +had been cleared and was, moreover, quite familiar +to him, Hermione had walked on the night that she +had seen the light, and had arrived in time to hear +the motor-boat going away. Perhaps by running and +with luck he might get there to see it come in. He +ran, therefore, as he had not run for years, and +before he reached the grassy slope which led to the +tower, he had to pause in order to get his breath. +There was no light now and no sound, not even the +chug-chug of the boat. Perhaps, after all, he also +was too late. +</p> + +<p> +He strode up the grassy slope, rounded the tower, +and found the door shut as Hermione had done. But +he had no electric torch and had to feel, so that it +was a minute before he could locate the handle, and +then he turned it quickly, pushed the door open and +waited. +</p> + +<p> +It was dark inside and there was not a sound. +Empty, of course. +</p> + +<p> +He took two steps through the door and the next +instant found himself seized by both arms, while a +rough hand clutched his throat in a strangling grip. +</p> + +<p> +Completely taken by surprise, though he struggled +desperately, he was helpless and could do nothing. +His two assailants—for he recognized that there were +two of them—had not spoken a word, and presently +a sharp kick under the knee from a heavy boot sent +his legs from under him and he was sprawling face +downwards on the ground and firmly held by strong +hands. +</p> + +<p> +A mellow voice, educated, refined, and speaking in +French, broke the uncanny silence, and a bright white +light was flashed on from an electric torch. +</p> + +<p> +"Gently, you miserable son of a sacred pig! You +are not dealing with the condemned police. Can't you +see, imbecile that you are! that he is a gentleman of +the old noblesse? Otherwise, sacred name of a dog! would +he have been such a complete fool as to have +come alone and unarmed?" +</p> + +<p> +This was so humiliatingly true that Daneham, +amidst his futile struggles, found occasion to wince. +</p> + +<p> +A gruff, uneducated voice replied in the same +language. +</p> + +<p> +"How was I to know in the dark, Master? Is it +then possible to feel by a man's clothes if he be a +gentleman or a damned Customs officer?" +</p> + +<p> +"It is if you use your intelligence—always provided +that you have it, <i>bien entendu</i>," was the cutting +reply. "You have some rope in your pockets I +believe, even though you have no sense in your head. +Therefore give it me. And you, monsieur—" a +gentle tap on Daneham's head indicated that the next +remarks were addressed to him: "Keep still, if you +please, otherwise I shall be under the unhappy +necessity of hurting you, for which I have no desire. +<i>Voyons</i>, Marcel, place your fat carcass on his legs +while I make fast his arms." +</p> + +<p> +Frank Daneham, realizing at last his complete +helplessness, took the advice offered him and lay still. +He then felt his arms being drawn back, his wrists +crossed, and a stout cord wound and knotted tightly +round them. The same ceremony was then performed +on his ankles. +</p> + +<p> +"A thousand pardons, monsieur," said the amiable +voice again. "I am desolated to inflict this treatment +upon you, but in my calling necessity knows no law. +You speak French, monsieur?" At these words the +light was switched off and Daneham felt strong arms +raise him and place him in a sitting position against +the wall. Then once more the light was renewed, +but as it was directed straight into his face, he could +see nothing whatever of his assailants, and could only +blink, and, in his angry impotence, give vent to a +fine exhibition of honest English swearing, directed +at his unseen captors, and which, if it did nothing +else, at least relieved his feelings for the moment. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Ah bon!</i>" There came an infectious laugh. "Monsieur +has taken no harm. He can at least speak good +English, whatever he may accomplish with the +French. <i>Enfin</i>, I speak it, too. For when one is in +a foreign country it is, for example, only good +manners and polite to speak the language. And <i>toujours +la politesse</i>, is it not so, monsieur?" +</p> + +<p> +The voice—that of a young man—was pleasant. +He spoke English, too, with hardly an accent. There +was a quality also in the voice which appealed to +Daneham in spite of his humiliating position. +Appealed to his good nature and therefore completely +disarmed him, took the anger from him and left him +morally as defenceless as he was physically so. +</p> + +<p> +"I'd like to know who the devil you are, how you +came here, and what the blazes you are doing," he +exclaimed, and at that the other laughed again. +</p> + +<p> +"No doubt you would, monsieur, and you are not +the only one in your charming country—charming, +I assure you, in spite of its most damnable climate—who +would like to know as well. But one cannot +please everyone. <i>Helas!</i> that it should be so. I who +would be friends with all the world, I who would +even love the Customs officers—if they would let me, +it is understood. But no. There are, unfortunately, +certain things between us that keep us from mutual +affection. Charming things, too, monsieur. Silk +stockings for your most exquisite ladies' sylph-like +legs, pearl necklaces for their swan-like necks—many +other things. <i>Enfin</i>, it is if you prefer it, the very +devil between us, monsieur." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, anyway," said Daneham, shifting uneasily +in his bonds, "as on your own showing you want to +be so friendly and pleasant to everyone, and as you +appear to be two to my one, supposing you start the +good work by cutting me loose, Monsieur +Whoever-You-Are." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Helas!</i> My friend, I am desolated, but I fear +that I cannot do this. You are not too uncomfortable +so, are you? I did not tie monsieur so as to +hurt him, and, after all, it is not for long, for we +must be away soon, and your friends can come then +and find you. Monsieur is alone, I presume?" +</p> + +<p> +"That's for you to find out," was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Bien</i>. I think I need not trouble too much about +that. Marcel!" He spoke sharply in French. "Go +get the brandy for monsieur. He is thirsty, and I am +thirsty, and we have work to do, you and I. Go +quick, my friend. I will wait for your return." +</p> + +<p> +Daneham heard the sound of the man's retreating +footsteps and presently the crunch of shingle far +below. +</p> + +<p> +"So you admit that you are smuggling here?" he +demanded. +</p> + +<p> +"Admit!" echoed the other. "But why not, monsieur, +since it is obvious that I do not come here for +the fishing or the shooting or even to paint the +scenery! Look, I will even show you, and thereby +proclaim my good will and trust in you." +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke he flashed the light across the room, +and Daneham saw to his amazement that it was +crammed with bales of tightly-packed silken +goods—stockings, underwear, thousands of things, and all +easily transportable by car. There were also boxes +which the Frenchman affirmed, with a note of pride +in his voice, contained the works for watches, and +pearl necklaces. "Imitation, it is understood, and all +for sale in your country, monsieur, and from which I +make a profit that is more than satisfying. I have, +indeed, carried on the good work for over a year. +But now that your police—for whom I have a +profound admiration and respect—have awakened from +their chrysalis state of somnolence and arrived at the +knowledge of my activities here, <i>Mort Dieu!</i> I finish—I +go—I evaporate. Also the big house being +occupied is not to my taste, though, if the lady who +owns it is willing, I would gladly purchase from her +this tower which has an interest for me, and for which +I would be willing to give a fair price. You would +perhaps, monsieur, suggest it to her when next you +have the felicity of seeing her? Is it not so?" +</p> + +<p> +Daneham laughed outright at this. The sheer +impudence of it was too much for his composure. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I'm damned," he said. "For cool cheek +you'd take a lot of beating, young man. Who, by +the way, put you wise about the tower in the first +instance?" Here at last he might get the answer +to that one great puzzle. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, for that, it was a friend who told me some +time ago, and I profit by the knowledge," was the +reply. +</p> + +<p> +"The same friend, perhaps, who wrote that date on +the bit of paper that was found and which you +dropped over a week ago on the shingle near this +tower?" suggested Daneham, taking a shot at a venture. +</p> + +<p> +The flash-lamp jerked, almost imperceptibly. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! You found that, did you? My faith, it was +grossly careless of me to have dropped anything," +admitted the engaging young criminal. If only +Daneham could have seen his face—"But it is of no +consequence. It was that I have a bad memory. Oh, a +memory of the very worst, monsieur, and my friend +wrote the words down for me so that I should not +forget. That is all. It is nothing, I assure you, a +<i>bagatelle</i>. But perhaps it is better that you ask no +more questions, monsieur. Presently I have to +remove these goods by car. A friend will be here with +his automobile to help me, and, during that little +process monsieur will be sound asleep—I hope." +</p> + +<p> +"I have neither inclination nor intention of going +to sleep," was the reply. Strangely enough he had +felt no fear all through. He had no thought of +danger to himself. His engaging young captor, by his +manner and his personality, had dismissed the +element of fear from the situation. Nor was there, to +his mind, a possibility of rescue, either. All at +Ardenmore would believe him to be in bed and asleep. No +one would possibly guess that instead of being +between the comfortable sheets at home, he was lying +in the tower room securely bound hand and foot. +</p> + +<p> +"The inclination will come, monsieur, believe me," +said the Frenchman. "The intention will be all on +my part. And I hear my man returning now." +</p> + +<p> +"Then you won't tell me who told you about this +tower?" asked Daneham. "Do you, by chance, know +a man called Dominic Arden?" The question was +rapped out quickly, but if he had expected to see the +light jerk again, he was disappointed, for it remained +perfectly steady. +</p> + +<p> +"Non, monsieur, I do not know even to whom you +refer," was the reply. "And once more I advise you +to ask no further questions. Enough that I tell you +this is my last visit to the tower. After that I retire, +I operate—as you call it—no longer on this coast. +It becomes unhealthy if one returns too often. +Marcel! Is that you?" +</p> + +<p> +A gruff voice replied in the affirmative. +</p> + +<p> +"Then haste, my cabbage. One supposes that you +have returned to La Belle France for the cognac. +For me, I could have journeyed to Paris and back in +the time. Come, you have a glass, I hope. Monsieur +is not accustomed to drink from a bottle as you +are, <i>mon vieux</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I have a glass, my Master." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't want any brandy, thanks all the same," +said Daneham, shortly. +</p> + +<p> +"It is, I fear, not what you want, monsieur," was +the reply, "but what I wish. In this instance I +demand that you drink some of this brandy, and if +you are wise, monsieur, you will comply with my +demand." +</p> + +<p> +"And if I refuse?" began the other. +</p> + +<p> +"In that case, monsieur, you force me to take +measures, which we shall, in after years, both of us +regret most deeply. For I shall be under the +necessity of placing you on your back and pouring the +brandy down your throat, monsieur, and I execrate +the idea, I assure you. Be advised, therefore. Drink +quickly and make no resistance. It is good brandy, +and, being an honest man—though your Customs +officers dispute this fact—I will tell you that it is +also drugged, and will keep you quiet, without doing +you any harm, during the time that I propose to +remove my goods. For assuredly the good God knows +that monsieur must not see how that is done, <i>bien +entendu</i>. Now, my friend, what is it to be?" +</p> + +<p> +There was nothing for it but compliance, for +Daneham had no wish to be man-handled again. +</p> + +<p> +"Very well," he said angrily. "Give me the +damned stuff." +</p> + +<p> +"Monsieur is wise, but then, since monsieur is +English, I knew that he would be." There came the +gurgle of liquid poured into a glass. "Monsieur will +pardon me." The engaging young smuggler held the +brimming glass towards Daneham. "Monsieur has +been amiableness itself. It has been a pleasure to +meet him, to show him my goods, and to engage in +conversation with him. He will forgive this little +harmless precaution, will he not? We part on +friendly terms? <i>N'est ce pas?</i>" +</p> + +<p> +"Hang it all, yes," he cried with a sudden laugh. +"Devil take you, get on with it, man." +</p> + +<p> +"Monsieur, I thank you. May we meet on a +happier occasion. I would drink this toast with you +myself, but, <i>Helas!</i> I must keep my faculties clear for +what I do. <i>Alors, monsieur</i>, I wish you a very pleasant +repose, and as some compensation for what I +inflict on you, I will leave a bale of silk stockings for +you to present to the lady of Ardenmore House with +my humblest felicitations." +</p> + +<p> +With that he went behind the chair, placed the +glass to his captive's lips, and his other hand on his +forehead, and as Frank Daneham opened his lips to +smile irresistibly at the exquisite effrontery of those +last words, he felt his head jerked back and the +liquid poured into his mouth, and a second later the +glass was empty. Then, while the man Marcel held +the light, Daneman felt himself lifted by strong arms +and laid gently on his back upon the floor, while +beneath his head was placed a small package of +something soft and silken. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Au revoir</i>, monsieur. <i>A bientot</i>." This was the +last sound he consciously heard, for a moment later +he felt himself sinking into happy oblivion. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER X +<br><br> +A TELEGRAM FROM BESSINGTON +</h2> + +<p> +For a moment Hermione wondered if she should +wake Iza Marsh, the next she decided that perhaps, +after all, Frank had returned to the smoking-room—for +he always kept dreadfully late hours—and was +probably reading there or had fallen asleep. So, +tiptoeing downstairs, she hurried along the passage and +flashed her lamp into the room, only to find it empty +also. She went back to the hall where a quick glance +showed her that his hat and coat had gone. +</p> + +<p> +It was impossible that he could have seen the green +light from his bedroom window, for it faced south +instead of east like hers, and yet it was equally +obvious that he had gone out, and there was only one +place where he would be likely to go at that hour of +the night. So, without pausing to consider the +wisdom or otherwise of her action, she let herself out +by the front door and once again set out for the +half-mile walk to the old tower. +</p> + +<p> +It was easier going now since it had been cleared +and the moon showed intermittently between the +clouds, so presently she found herself running, urged +on by a nameless fear, an odd sensation that her +journey would not end as tamely as it had done +before, and wondering if, after all, it would have been +wiser to have roused Phillimore and taken him with +her. He, of course, had heard all about the smugglers' +activities, and had tried at times to get into +conversation with the taciturn police officer on guard. +Phillimore, she reflected, as well as being an +admirable butler was also a very decent man and would +have been a tower of strength on such a lonely +expedition as the present one. However, she had not +sought his aid, and as it was too late to go back now, +she had to make the best of it and trust to luck. +</p> + +<p> +She gained the tower at length, took one glance out +across the sea, and hearing and seeing nothing +suspicious, she pushed open the old door, entered the room +and flashed on her lamp. The next instant she had +uttered a sharp cry, sprung across the dirty, dusty +floor, and was down on her knees beside a prone +figure that lay outstretched at the far end. +</p> + +<p> +For one moment as she peered into Frank Daneham's +face, she thought he was dead, but tearing open +his coat and pressing her hand on his heart, she +realized by the steady beat that what in her fright she +had taken for death was only heavy sleep. She had +even failed to hear—for fear had numbed her +faculties—his rather stertorous breathing. +</p> + +<p> +Reassured at last, she called his name, and getting +no response, placed a hand on his shoulder and shook +him. +</p> + +<p> +That also proving unavailing, she tried to think +what she ought to do, for it was obvious now that he +had been drugged. Moreover, for the first time she +saw something unnatural in his position. He seemed +to be lying on his arms and hands, and a glance at his +feet showed her a stout cord tied tightly round his +ankles. Fear took hold of her. +</p> + +<p> +Why on earth had she not brought Phillimore, or +even Iza Marsh? And what would happen if the +brutes who had done this to him should come back +and find her? She would be utterly at their mercy. +</p> + +<p> +However, there was not a sound in the place, which +seemed to be deserted, and there was no throb from a +returning motor-boat. Yet she did not like to leave +him there while she ran back for help, and to sit as +she was doing, idle, was out of the question. +</p> + +<p> +A slight movement from the prostrate man gave +her a sudden hope. Perhaps the drug was working +off. She bent quickly over him. +</p> + +<p> +"Frank! Frank! Wake up," she cried, and once +more she shook him. +</p> + +<p> +He muttered incoherently, shifted uneasily. +</p> + +<p> +"Frank!" she raised her voice. "It is I, Hermione." +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps it was her name that roused him, for he +opened heavy eyes and stared up vacantly into her +face. +</p> + +<p> +"Hermione," he muttered, his voice thick and +feeble. "When?—How?—" And then he tried to +raise himself, but the effort was futile. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly she took him by the shoulders and +dragged him into a sitting posture, and under where +his head had been for the first time she saw something +lying. But she paid no heed to that for he had +struggled feebly and she saw that his wrists, as his +ankles, were tied with cord. +</p> + +<p> +"My hands—" he muttered, thickly. "And, oh, +Lord! my head—" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, dear, I know, and I want you to try and +rouse yourself, and let me get you home. Is there a +knife in your pockets?" She fumbled feverishly and +found one at last and a moment later his hands were +free. Then she set to work upon his ankles and +finally put an arm about his shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you think you could stand, if I helped you?" Fear +of the return of those who had done this dastardly +thing was again upon her, and to get away was +all she asked. +</p> + +<p> +"One—moment—" He tried to put a hand to his +throbbing head, but his arms were numb and useless. +She saw the effort and at once set to work to restore +the circulation. +</p> + +<p> +"You poor dear," she said, tenderly, as she saw the +swollen wrists. "What brutes! What infamous +brutes." +</p> + +<p> +"N-no," he muttered. "It's—all coming—back. +Good fellow—tell you—" +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind that now, Frank," she urged. "You +can tell me about it later. All I want is to get you +home and to bed. I'm terrified that they'll come back +and find us." +</p> + +<p> +This seemed to penetrate to his fuddled understanding. +His drugged senses were gradually clearing, +and he made a valiant effort, and as she stopped +massaging his arms he somehow got to his feet, and +stood, swaying helplessly on her supporting arm. +Then he glanced round. "They've—gone—" he +muttered. "The—con—contraband, I mean." +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind that, dear, let's get into the air," +urged Hermione. But he pointed to the thing that had +lain under his head, and seeing it she stooped and +picked it up. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, it's a bundle of silk stockings!" she cried, +"and beauties, too. How did they come there? But +never mind, you can tell me all about it afterwards." +</p> + +<p> +"He—he—left them, for you," said Frank Daneham. +And then he lurched out into the air, and she, +with the stockings in one hand and her other arm +round his body, wondered if she would ever be able to +get him home. But she had to try, so she slowly +piloted him over the soft grass and down to the pine +wood. +</p> + +<p> +"How did—you—" he was beginning, but she +stopped him. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't talk," she said. "Keep all your strength +for getting back." +</p> + +<p> +And so, in silence, the two of them made their +difficult way back to the house. But it was long past +three o'clock when Frank Daneham dropped heavily +into an arm-chair in his bedroom and clasped his +aching head, while Hermione, leaving him at last, ran to +the servants' quarters to rouse Phillimore. +</p> + +<p> +When he appeared a few moments later, clad in +a dressing-gown, there was deep concern on his honest +face. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll get him into bed, ma'am, at once," he said, +"and James can go for the doctor in the morning if +he's no better, but if it's only a drug and he sleeps +it off, he shouldn't take much harm." +</p> + +<p> +By this, Iza Marsh, hearing the voices, was out in +the passage, and as Phillimore was attending to +Frank Daneham, Hermione poured her story into the +elder woman's horrified ears. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear child! How appalling!" she cried. +"What on earth does it all mean? And what in the +world took Frank up there at such an hour? Do you +say you saw the green light? Then why in the name +of all that's insane didn't you wake me and take +me with you?" +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't stop to think. I just had to go and look +for him. But I don't even now know what happened. +He was far too dazed and fuddled with that vile drug +to tell me anything. He said something about the +goods having gone, and that this bundle of silk +stockings was given to me by someone. At any rate they +are tangible enough." Iza Marsh took the bundle +and looked them over. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear child, I don't think you can have much +doubt as to what happened. These are undoubtedly +'the goods', and whoever left this little lot for you, +made you a very handsome present. I confess, I shall +be glad to know the details." +</p> + +<p> +There came the sound of a softly-closing door and +Phillimore came towards them. +</p> + +<p> +"Is he all right?" asked Hermione, anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +"Sound asleep, ma'am. I am just going to get into +my things, and then I'll stay with him in case he +should wake and want anything." +</p> + +<p> +"That's good of you, Phillimore," said Hermione, +gratefully. +</p> + +<p> +"Not at all, ma'am, only my duty. And you need +not be at all anxious. I think he will just sleep it off +and wake up as sound as ever. I suppose you will +want to send a message to the police first thing?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, don't do anything about that. Wait till I +have heard from Mr. Daneham what happened. He +will know what is best to be done. I don't want to +be bothered by the police until I know what it all +means. And, besides, they could do no good in any +case, for there was no one there when I found +Mr. Daneham. And whatever you do, Phillimore, don't +say a word to the other servants." +</p> + +<p> +"I won't, ma'am, as it would only scare them. +And if I may presume to advise you, ma'am, as there +is nothing more for you to worry about, you should +try and get what sleep you can." +</p> + +<p> +"Sound common sense, Phillimore," agreed Mrs. Marsh. +"And I'll see that she does it. Come along, +my dear, get your things off and hop into bed. +Goodness only knows what we may be called upon to do +to-morrow—I mean to-day, for it's nearly four +o'clock now, mercy be good to us!" +</p> + +<p> +Phillimore proved himself a true prophet, for, five +hours later, barring a slight headache, Frank +Daneham awoke not very much the worse for his night's +adventures, and joined the two women at breakfast +downstairs. +</p> + +<p> +The first thing he did was to take Hermione by +both hands. +</p> + +<p> +"You plucky little woman," he said, huskily. +"Phillimore has been telling me what happened, for +honestly I had no recollection of anything until he told me +and then it all came back clearly, and I am filled with +gratitude and amazement at what you did for me." +</p> + +<p> +"When all the time she deserves a sound whipping +for her crass folly in going by herself and not taking +Phillimore, or at worst, me with her," struck in Iza +Marsh, with, however, a glance at the girl that +utterly belied her words. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, never mind about me! Tell us what happened," +cried Hermione. "I am more thankful than I +can say that you are all right, Frank. But what on +earth made you go there last night, and when did you +go? No, drink this coffee first before you speak. It +is the very best thing for you, I know." +</p> + +<p> +A moment later he set down his empty cup, and +then proceeded to tell them in detail all that had +happened, from the moment when he, too, had seen the +light, until the administration of the drug by the +engaging young smuggler. And to it all the two women +listened in enthralled silence. +</p> + +<p> +"A remarkable chap, really," he ended, musingly, +"and even now I can't say whether we are on the right +track with regard to that bit of paper or not. He +dropped it, certainly, owned to it, but when I asked +him outright about poor old Dominic, he denied all +knowledge of him." +</p> + +<p> +"He may have lied," said Hermione, bitterly; +"after all, he treated you abominably and may be +capable of anything." +</p> + +<p> +"No, in fairness I can't say that he did that," +objected Daneham. "He had to make himself safe, +and he might have knocked me out instead of drugging +me, there was nothing to prevent him once he +had me tied up. But I'll admit that, even in the +drugging, he took no chances, for though I had said I +would take it—having no other choice, you +understand—he made sure that I did take it, for he tilted +my head back, confound him! and just as I was smiling +at something he had said, poured the stuff into +my mouth, so that I had either to swallow it or choke. +</p> + +<p> +"But, by Jove, he was a pleasant beggar, and spoke +good English, too. I would have given anything to +have seen his face, but he took devilish good care I +shouldn't. And then those stockings, you know. +Confounded cheek, wasn't it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Personally, I could do with quite a lot of that +kind of cheek," observed Iza, dryly. "And what, +by the way, are you going to do with your present, +my dear?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, as Frank was apparently taken with this +young man, I suppose really he can't have been as +bad as I thought," admitted Hermione with a smile +"So I shall keep one pair, to show that I bear no +malice, and you can have the rest, darling." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I'm sure that's very generous of you, +child," said the other, "and I'll make a point of +wearing 'em whenever I go abroad. It will give me the +greatest pleasure to sport them when I go through the +Customs, and I'll wear a new pair at every port in the +British Isles. That'll teach 'em to put a heavy tax +on indispensable clothing, drat 'em. I take off my +hat to that young man, I'll tell you that. The only +thing that puzzles me is how he got all that +contraband, which you saw, out of the place." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, you may well say that," agreed Daneham. +"How indeed? It was on that account, of course, +that the young beggar drugged me, so that I shouldn't +see his dodge. I have a hazy remembrance of hearing +a car, but it is too hazy to be of any use." +</p> + +<p> +"But there was no car there or any signs of one," +said Hermione. +</p> + +<p> +"I know. I asked Phillimore if he heard one, and +he said he certainly heard what he thought was a car +going rapidly along the road to Ardenmore station at +about one o'clock. But he certainly did not hear one +going in the opposite direction before that. However, +we shall know soon, for he is going over to the farm +to ask there. They know of all the cars or carts that +pass along the road, for, situated on that hill as they +are, nothing can escape them." +</p> + +<p> +"They might not have been looking at the time," +suggested Iza Marsh. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes," replied Hermione. "I was over there +only yesterday and saw Mackenzie's old mother who +sits in her window all day and never misses a thing. +And as her window is open at night and she sleeps +very badly, she is bound to have heard one if it +passed." +</p> + +<p> +Which surmise indeed proved to be true, for +Phillimore announced shortly after that, having gone to +the farm himself to make inquiries, he was informed +that old Mrs. Mackenzie had heard the car pass at +about one o'clock, going towards the station, but +that she was certain no car went the other way either +before or afterwards. And she wondered where it +came from, for she did not think it would be the +Ardenmore House car at that time of night. +</p> + +<p> +"Did she say if she had ever heard it before?" +asked Daneham eagerly of Hermione. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes, frequently. That is what started the +gossip about the ghost car coming from nowhere. But, +of course, no one really believed her, for, as +Mr. Mackenzie pointed out, if it came back it would either +have to go right into the sea in order to disappear, +or else it would be found somewhere on the premises, +and no one has ever found it." +</p> + +<p> +"That being so it looks as though we shall have to +wait some time for its return," said Hermione, "for +it is only periodically that the old woman hears it. +Therefore there is surely no necessity to tell the police +yet." +</p> + +<p> +To this Daneham agreed, and gave instructions +accordingly to Phillimore. +</p> + +<p> +When they were once more alone, Hermione +turned impulsively to her two friends. +</p> + +<p> +"If that car was heard going away last night," +she said, "it means that the Frenchman has taken +those things to distribute among his customers. It +also means that he will be coming back to hide the +car—wherever he does hide it." +</p> + +<p> +"Not if it's true that he has done with smuggling +here," objected Daneham. "He would simply take it +by sea over to France." +</p> + +<p> +"But do you believe that?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not for a moment. It's too paying a game to drop +so lightly. I believe that was merely a blind, to try +and induce me to give up watching for him. I don't +believe a fellow of his type could voluntarily give up +his criminal career and live quietly on the proceeds, +whatever the inducement. When he does it will +only be when he's caught and lodged in gaol. My own +opinion is that we shall probably meet again—as he +suggested—under happier conditions for me, anyway. +That is if in the meantime he doesn't make the +acquaintance of Madame Guillotine." +</p> + +<p> +"Good gracious, Frank," exclaimed Iza. "Is he +as bad as that?" +</p> + +<p> +"Who knows? He is, I should say, capable of any +extremes. A fellow like that can be as good a friend +as he is a bad enemy. Personally, I'd sooner be his +friend, for I have an odd sort of feeling that he would +go to any length for a pal. However, this is all +surmise. What I believe to be fact is that one day he'll +be back again, for his hiding-place is so secure that +with a confederate to warn him he will feel perfectly +safe to carry on. So it's up to us to discover that +hiding-place." +</p> + +<p> +"I honestly think it is far more important to find +out who is keeping him informed here," said +Hermione, and to this Iza Marsh emphatically agreed. It +seemed also to all three that unless a miracle +happened, the mystery of that date on the scrap of paper +would in all likelihood remain a mystery. +</p> + +<p> +An hour later a telegram arrived for Hermione—the +advent of which altered the course of events for +all of them. +</p> + +<p> +She tore it open and read aloud to her two friends +the message written there. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="letter"> +"May I come over and see you? Staying at +the Glen, Locharbie. Dick." +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +She looked appealingly to Frank. +</p> + +<p> +"Hang the fellow, what does he want?" he growled. +</p> + +<p> +"Better let him come," advised Iza. "There's some +reason, or he wouldn't break his compact." +</p> + +<p> +"I agree," said Frank with a frown, as he thought +of the bit of paper which had been shown by Mackay +to Dick Bessington. "Better to know what he is +doing than shut him out and live in ignorance as to +his movements." +</p> + +<p> +So the reply was dispatched in two words only: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +"Yes, Hermione." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XI +<br><br> +SUSPICIONS +</h2> + +<p> +Mr. Alexander Crosby and Colonel Bessington +were alone together in the large, comfortably-furnished +smoking-room at the Glen. They had just had +tea and, hearing that the other guests were pairing off +for bridge, and feeling comfortably tired after a day +on the river, had retired in good order where they +could rest before rejoining the party at dinner. +</p> + +<p> +They were both lounging in arm-chairs, both +enjoying a well-earned pipe, and both engaged in +reading the papers. +</p> + +<p> +Crosby was—as usual with him—the first to break +a long silence. +</p> + +<p> +"I say, Bessington, what's all this clap-trap about +smuggling? I see they've bagged some fellows on +the east coast down south somewhere. Caught 'em +in the act, so to speak. Can that be the same lot who +are supposed to be operating up in these parts that +John was telling me about?" +</p> + +<p> +The other laid down his paper and stared for a +moment into the brightly burning log fire. +</p> + +<p> +"I think not," he replied at last, slowly, and as +though weighing his words. "I believe that is +another lot altogether. I have been going rather +closely into the matter, as it interests me considerably." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I saw you hob-nobbing the other day with +that inspector fellow. I was crossing over a field with +Mrs. Leslie, who likes long walks—deuce take her!—for +the sake of what she calls her figure, and I call +her blancmange shape, and I spotted you. The police +chap seemed to have a deuced lot to say for himself." +</p> + +<p> +"He talked. Oh yes, certainly he talked," admitted +Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +"And you listened, eh what? Bet you did, and took +it all in, too. Did you glean anything from all the +chatter? Or was he just giving a minimum of +information in a maximum of wrapping?" +</p> + +<p> +"N-no. What he told me was quite interesting. I +saw him again the next day. He said that they were +taking off the man they had put on to watch at +Ardenmore Tower, as it was considered no longer +necessary. Personally, I think it was a mistake. On +the other hand, when I saw him yesterday—" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, so you saw him again yesterday, did you? +What for? Same subject, I take it?" +</p> + +<p> +"You may," was the quiet response. "Yes, when +I saw him yesterday he told me that a suggestion had +been made to him by—er—well, in point of fact, by +Frank Daneham to the effect that—" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! Old Frankie! Staying with the lovely widow +I suppose. Wonder if he'll pull it off this time." +</p> + +<p> +"I—er—beg your pardon?" Bessington looked at +his companion sharply. "You mean—what exactly?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh well, he and she are pretty thick, eh what? +Always about together in the gay city. All that sort +of thing, you know. People will talk, my dear chap. +Can't stop 'em." +</p> + +<p> +"They are good friends, I believe, but nothing +more," was the cold reply. "More like brother and +sister." +</p> + +<p> +The other exploded in a loud guffaw. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, come off it!" he said. "You don't put that sort +of stuff across me, my lad. The brother and sister +stunt cuts no ice here." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I'm afraid it will have to, because one day +I hope to make the lady my wife," said Bessington, +quietly. And Alexander Crosby, with crimson face, +remembered his newly-acquired gentility and +apologized profusely. +</p> + +<p> +"Take it as unsaid, Colonel. Never a notion of any +such thing. Hope to congratulate you soon, I'm sure." +</p> + +<p> +"Thanks," said Bessington, and a delicate wave of +the hand intimated that the subject was closed. "Well, +as I was saying, Daneham suggested the advisability +of calling off the watch in order to see if the +smuggling, which had stopped, would start again, and if it +did, it would mean that a friend on the premises was +signalling the 'All clear'." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, to be sure. Bright idea. And do you know if +anything happened?" +</p> + +<p> +"I saw an advertisement a few days later in one of +the papers with, oddly enough, just those words. +'All clear, come again.' So I saw the inspector and +told him about it. He got into touch with the +newspaper and found that it was sent from this part of +the country, though they had no knowledge of who +had sent it. It was paid for in the ordinary way and +duly inserted. So I shall be keen to know if anything +happens. Though the inspector, I thought, rather +laughed at the idea." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I don't, and that's flat. By Jove! This is +rather more interesting than fiction. Why not go over +to Ardenmore and investigate? Incidentally, kill two +birds with one stone, eh?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm afraid I don't get you. How do you mean?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh well! Hang it all, don't make a fellow call a +spade a spade like that. Don't the lady live at +Ardenmore, eh?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I see. Yes, I suppose that would—from your +point of view—be the thing to do. Do you, by the +way, know anything of the history of Ardenmore?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, just a bit, you know. Old people, last of the +name, died in '18, year after that son of theirs went +West. Lucky for him he did, too. Of course, everyone +heard all about that little stunt, at least the story +went round. But I doubt if anyone save those in the +know knew why he murdered his C.O." +</p> + +<p> +"And incidentally my greatest friend," added +Bessington. "Colonel Grimshawe, though few people +understood him, was a fine fellow. Queer tempered, +I own, and he had other faults—who has not?" +</p> + +<p> +"Granted. I should hate to let anyone into my +confession box, if I ever thought fit to tell a few +things," agreed the other with a chuckle. "This is +news to me, though. I hadn't realized you were in it." +</p> + +<p> +"Not in it exactly. I came in directly after it +happened. Or, at least, I was informed that it was +directly after." A slow smile widened the +thin-lipped mouth, and Alec Crosby, seeing the shining +teeth, understood what his brother meant when he +referred to Old Nick. +</p> + +<p> +"Was there a doubt of that, then?" +</p> + +<p> +"There may have been in my mind at the time. +There may be still. For it seems that there was +sufficient time between the blow—or rather the +murder—and the summons for help, to enable young +Arden to get away. And get away he did. Had he +been caught, he would have been shot, of course. +Had he lived and returned to this country, he would +have been taken and hanged for murder." +</p> + +<p> +"Really? But was it actually murder? I mean, +you weren't there to see, only the other fellow, the +witness—I don't even know his name." +</p> + +<p> +"I know. But remember it was done in a tumble-down +cottage in Flanders, and loud voices carry +through thin walls. In the room next to the scene of +the crime were two witnesses—both alive to-day—who +swore to what they heard. They didn't hear +much. They were both, as a matter of fact, sick men, +just brought in and waiting to be taken elsewhere, +and they both heard young Arden, when accused of +having killed someone—for, of course, they didn't +know who it was who had been killed—say—'I +know, I meant to kill him.' Therefore, had young +Arden lived and been taken, their evidence alone, +almost, would have hanged him. Whereas we also have +the eye-witness to the scene who admitted the crime, +and was—so he said—though I have my doubts as to +that—himself threatened with a revolver by young +Arden." +</p> + +<p> +"But who was the fellow?" +</p> + +<p> +"That, I fear, I am not at liberty to tell you. You +see, it is all over and nine years have gone by since +it happened. But neither nine nor yet twenty-nine—nor +ninety-nine years will lessen my horror of the +deed, nor my grief for the loss of a good friend, nor +yet my hatred of the man who did it, and who escaped +the death that was his due." +</p> + +<p> +And Crosby, glancing at his companion's face, was +aware of a sensation of intense relief that he was a +friend of this man and not an enemy. +</p> + +<p> +"But, surely to goodness, you had your revenge, in +the fact that the young fellow was killed," he +expostulated, for though lacking in blue blood, he had not +an ounce of vindictiveness in his nature. +</p> + +<p> +"He died an honourable death on the field, not a +felon's death on the gallows," was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, well, and come, come, death is death when +all's said and done, in whatever guise it comes. Hang +it all, man, he was young, a mere kid, a baby, and +wasn't there some woman? Why! Bless my heart and +soul! I'm going dotty on the crumpet. It was a +Mrs. Arden the South African married. Young Arden's +wife! Goo lor! What a damned mix-up it all is." +</p> + +<p> +"You may well say so," was the grim reply. +</p> + +<p> +"And she bought back the old place when her +millionaire hubby died, too. Now that was a bit +rummy, wasn't it?" +</p> + +<p> +"No. Sentiment, I suppose. Most nice women are +full of it. There is no reason, as far as I can see, why +she should not have bought it." +</p> + +<p> +"But Lord bless my heart! Isn't the place a ruin? +And she goes and lives in it. What for? Tell me that? +I suppose, by the way," he went on, a sudden thought +striking him, "there was no doubt about young Arden +being killed, was there? I mean, did she believe it? +But of course she must have, or she wouldn't have +married old Rodenberg and committed bigamy. +Besides, if the young chap was alive, I suppose the +lawyer chaps would dispute her right to the money +Rodenberg left his wife. Couldn't touch it if she +weren't his wife, could she?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't think anyone would dispute that," replied +Bessington. "Rodenberg had no relations. And +besides, what do you mean exactly by your suggestion +of the doubt as to Arden's death?" Bessington +glanced at him sharply as he put the question. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh well, nothing particular, only one has heard +some rum things about people's husbands turning up +again—generally at the most inconvenient times, by +the way—" here he chuckled. "After all, in that +almighty hell over there, it would be some job to get +a line on to every chap who was killed, and mistakes +have been made, you know." +</p> + +<p> +"That's true," admitted the other, "mistakes, as +you say, have been made." +</p> + +<p> +No one, as a matter of fact, knew better than he +that the evidence of Dominic Arden's death was very +far from conclusive, and the information the inspector +had given him concerning that mysterious date +written on the scrap of paper had reawakened all his +former, and nearly half-dead, suspicions, and had +made him determined to investigate into the +mysterious occurrences at the tower. +</p> + +<p> +Not for a moment did he believe that it was from +pure sentiment and devotion to the memory of Dominic +Arden that Hermione held out against his entreaties +that she should marry him. He thought that in time +he could break down the absurd barrier between them. +But, seeing that he had always had a suspicion +concerning the actual death of this first husband, he +wanted to be quite sure that there would be no +returning Enoch Arden to spoil their lives when the +consummation so devoutly to be wished had come to pass. +</p> + +<p> +This upstart fellow, Crosby, had been right when +he said that husbands had an inconvenient way of +turning up. Moreover, there was the coincidence of +the name Arden in connection with these same +resurrecting husbands, and there was a vein of +superstition in Richard Bessington's make-up. +</p> + +<p> +No. If Dominic Arden was alive, then Dominic +Arden must be found and dealt with, and Bessington +had no doubts as to his own capabilities of dealing +with him when once found. Nothing and no one +should stand between him and the ultimate goal of his +existence—marriage with Hermione Rodenberg. +</p> + +<p> +He even dared to believe that it would be a relief +to Hermione to know conclusively that her first +husband was dead, for he had wondered many times if +her constant refusal of him was based upon that very +fear which he, himself, admitted, and which would +prevent her from again tying herself to a man who +might not, in the end, prove to be her husband at all. +</p> + +<p> +Was it, therefore, possible, that she had bought +this place, believing that, if he was alive, it would be +the one place in all the world to which he would come +back? And was it for love of him that she did this +or merely out of a desire to know once and for all? +In fact, to make herself secure? +</p> + +<p> +Though he believed most women to be selfish and +self-seekers, he could not tell, for Hermione never +allowed the name of her first husband to pass her lips, +and would remain frostily silent if he—Bessington—had +ever touched upon the subject. +</p> + +<p> +Well, it was on the knees of the gods, and in the +meantime he would cultivate this fellow, Alec Crosby, +who, though a fool, might be a useful fool, and +Bessington had made use of fools before, much to his +own advantage. +</p> + +<p> +On the following day he received a message from +Inspector Mackay asking him if, when he was in +Locharbie again, he would call at his office. +</p> + +<p> +Alec Crosby and his own particular car being always +at Bessington's disposal, he was driven in that +same day to Locharbie and paid the desired visit. +</p> + +<p> +"You see, sir, it's like this," said Mackay, after he +had greeted his visitor and thanked him for coming. +"Seeing that you are interested in this affair at the +tower, and seeing that I can get no satisfaction from +Headquarters, who think there's naething in it, I +wondered if you would like to do some investigating +yoursel'. We pollis are handicapped, seeing that we +are all known by sight, and that civilian clothes would +make no matter—Do you follow me, now?" +</p> + +<p> +"I think so. Headquarters think they've got the +gang farther south, and that you are after a mare's +nest, I take it, so they won't send anyone along to +help you. Is that it?" +</p> + +<p> +"You have the case in a nutshell, sir," was the +reply. "I asked for a mon who was not known in the +deestrict to make a few inquiries, for it's no easy +matter to make a body speak around these pairts, if that +body thinks it's the pollis who are pumping him. If +someone is giving information to these smugglers, it +must be done for money, and money talks round here, +I'm telling you, and what a body would not tell the +pollis he might be willing to tell someone who he +knew was not a policeman in civilian clothes." +</p> + +<p> +"I get you, Inspector. You mean, in plain English, +that the person who has been bribed to help these +criminals will help the other side if offered a heavier +bribe to do it, but that if they suspected the police +in the transaction there would be nothing doing?" +</p> + +<p> +"That's something of what I was meaning," replied +Mackay. "I can do naething mysel', for if a watch +was kept they'd not return, and the same thing would +happen if my men were seen in the deestrict. But as +you are known to Mistress Rodenberg you could get +her to give you some information concerning the folk +there, and you might even be able to find the indiveedual +who is aiding and abetting these creeminals. +You would pass the worrd to me, and mebbe we could +set a trap that would catch them. At present I am +handicapped on account of the fact that some of my +superiors are wanting in imagination." +</p> + +<p> +"Quite, and I will gladly undertake to help you, +Inspector," replied Bessington, with a smile. "After +all, it is the duty of every loyal subject of His Majesty +to help in the frustration of crime in his dominions. +Therefore I will gladly undertake to find out what I +can, and if I succeed, to let you know. If, on the other +hand, nothing further occurs, then we may take it +that your fellows at Headquarters are right and the +gang who have been caught are the same who have +been operating from the tower base." +</p> + +<p> +"That's juist my way of thinking," was the reply. +"It's not often that we pollis ask for outside help, +except, maybe, from the Press at times. But in this +instance I have no alternative, for I believe there is +something that wants looking into still." +</p> + +<p> +"I agree. Very well, Inspector, I shall get over +there as soon as possible, and acquaint Mrs. Rodenberg +of the reason for my visit. I am sure she will +help in any way she can." +</p> + +<p> +"Weel, pairhaps," was the guarded reply. "But +I'm no' sae sure o' that. Women are queer cattle to +deal with, and there's no accounting for tastes. After +all, it was a queer place for a rich body to buy unless +she had a braw reason for the purchase." +</p> + +<p> +"You are surely not suggesting that Mrs. Rodenberg +herself is in league with the smugglers, are +you?" asked Bessington, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +"I'd be a clever mon if I could suggest a reason for +what any woman does, Colonel," was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, at any rate, you can bank on its not being +that, Inspector." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm glad to hear it and I wish you the best of +luck, sir," was all he got in answer. +</p> + +<p> +And on the following morning Bessington +dispatched his telegram to Ardenmore. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XII +<br><br> +RICHARD BESSINGTON ON THE SCENE +</h2> + +<p> +Richard Bessington's first act on arriving at +Ardenmore was to apologize to Hermione for breaking +his compact. +</p> + +<p> +"On my own account I would not have come," +he explained, as they stood together outside the +house, while the chauffeur took Crosby's car—lent +for the occasion—round to the garage. "Unless, of +course, you had asked me. But it was on Inspector +Mackay's advice that I came and for no other reason." +</p> + +<p> +"Inspector Mackay!" she repeated blankly. "But +what on earth has he to do with you?" +</p> + +<p> +"He realizes how interested I am in this smuggling +business, and he knows that—as a good citizen—I am +all out for helping the police to track them down. +So he practically asked me to undertake a small job +for him which is better done by a civilian." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm afraid I don't quite understand," said Hermione. +"What can you or anyone do that the police +are unable to undertake?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, to put it quite simply, in this rather +out-of-the-way part of the world, policemen are regarded +with suspicion by the natives—we are not. Therefore, +if Inspector Mackay or any of his men were to come +round asking awkward questions—I mean awkward +for anyone who had something to hide—the odds are +that they would get nothing for their pains. Whereas, +let you or I or Daneham do the same thing, we +might achieve something." +</p> + +<p> +"I begin to see what you mean," replied Hermione, +who had every intention of showing outward friendship +for this man whom she feared. "And yet, what is +there that we can do, or who is there who might be +suspected?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, but it was Daneham, wasn't it, who +suggested to Mackay that it looked as though someone +living here or hereabouts was in league with the gang +of smugglers, and that if the watch was called off, +perhaps we might see fresh developments." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! I understand now." She paused for a moment +wondering what she should say—what to tell him, +how much or how little. She and Frank had agreed +together, after dispatching the wire telling him to +come, that if the subject of smuggling was mentioned, +it might be better not to say anything about their +experiences of the night before, as it was a matter +which—if referred to at all—should be told only to +the police, and neither of them were willing, for the +moment, to say anything about it. Phillimore had +been asked to keep it quiet, on the plausible grounds +that if the police were told they would at once set a +watch there again, and so long as a watch was kept +and information concerning it given to the gang, so +long would they keep away. Whereas, by saying nothing, +and waiting, the probability was that they would +return, and then there would be time enough to get +the police on to the scene. +</p> + +<p> +All this was agreed upon between them before the +advent of Richard Bessington, but now that his +purpose in coming was explained—and Hermione had no +reason to doubt the truth of his statement—it altered +matters. It made it almost a necessity to tell him +the truth, for it did not seem like playing the game to +keep him in ignorance. There was smuggling going +on and it was a Frenchman who was at the head of it, +not Dominic Arden, and there seemed to be nothing +now to connect him with the matter. They had, +therefore, nothing to fear from Bessington. So, +turning frankly to him, she told him of what had +occurred on the previous night. +</p> + +<p> +He was genuinely astonished and horrified and at +once put the obvious question. +</p> + +<p> +"But, my dear Hermione, why have you not sent +for Mackay?" +</p> + +<p> +She gave him the same reason that had been given +to Phillimore and he agreed that it was sound as far +as it went. +</p> + +<p> +"And it looks uncommonly," he added, "as if you +have seen the last of them. For since this Frenchman +knows you are on the watch he won't be such a fool +as to come back now that he has got safely away. +It seems, in fact, that I shall do no good by making +any inquiries. And yet Mackay is confident that +something is wrong, and it seems that he is right, too." +</p> + +<p> +"Frank thinks the man will come back, if not now, +later. But, of course, he will only come if his informant +here can assure him that no one is on the look out. +He will know that we ourselves can't be for ever on +the watch, and apparently their hiding-place is so +secure that he can afford to laugh at anyone who tries +to catch him." +</p> + +<p> +"Quite. So that our best plan would be to try and +find out who is helping him." He smiled down at her, +drinking in the beauty of her, wondering if this was +at last the first step in a campaign that would end in +capitulation on her part, triumphant possession for him. +</p> + +<p> +"You had better come in and see Frank," she said, +ignorant of what was passing through his mind, eager +only to play the game as it should be played, and as +she could play it so long as danger to one who might +still be living was not involved. "Come into the +smoking-room, I think he is there, and we can talk over and +think out the most likely people, and then we can go +round and see what we can do. I am just as anxious +to get to the bottom of this mystery as you are. I +came here for peace and quiet and so far I have had +just the opposite." +</p> + +<p> +"Poor little woman. I understand, and I'll do all +in my power to help. Do you know, I rather believe +that Mackay has a kind of suspicion that you are in +league with the smugglers." Here he looked down +into her eyes and smiled. "And that is why you +bought this place. It was all I could do not to roar +with laughter when he half-suggested it." +</p> + +<p> +"No, really? Did he? Well, I thought he seemed +odd, but I put it down to the natural suspicions of +his calling. How absurd. And yet, I suppose it would +strike some people as rather extraordinary." +</p> + +<p> +They had turned and entered the house, and in the +hall, Bessington put a hand on her arm and stayed +her. +</p> + +<p> +"One moment, while we are alone. No. Don't be +frightened. Our compact holds good and I am not +going to talk on forbidden subjects. But I do want you +to tell me your honest reason for buying this god-forsaken +place and burying yourself in it in this way." +</p> + +<p> +"I did tell you," she replied, trying to keep the +anxiety, which she suddenly felt at his question, from +her voice. "I wanted to get away from people and +the sordid things that are associated with the wealthy. +Remember, Dick, that I am horribly, horribly rich, +that everyone knows it, and that if I did not take +action in this rather drastic manner, my life would be +made a burden to me. I was simply sick of it all. +That is my reason. What other could there be?" +</p> + +<p> +"But, my dear girl, there were other means at your +disposal. A yachting trip alone with your friend, Iza, +if you wanted. There was a villa in Italy; there was +Egypt, India, the whole world for you to choose +from." +</p> + +<p> +"I knew them all. Or at least, most of them; Lady +Maude took me there. Besides, I wanted rest, and as +for a yacht! My dear Dick, I am the most appalling +sailor and I should simply have hated it." +</p> + +<p> +"I see. That is, then honestly your reason?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why! How ridiculous. Do you think I would lie +to you? Why should I, and what do you mean?" A +touch of annoyance had taken the place of anxiety +in her tone now, and he was quick to notice it. +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing, nothing," he replied, abruptly. "Of +course I believe you. I asked because it has been not +only puzzling me but a good many other people, too." +</p> + +<p> +"Then I wish those other people would mind their +own business," she said petulantly. "All I ask is to +be left alone—in peace." +</p> + +<p> +"And what you get is to find yourself in the very +centre of a sensational smuggling mystery," he +replied, with a laugh. "Poor Hermione. Well, never +mind. We'll see what we can do to wing these beggars +and ensure you the rest and peace you want. +So, let us to business." +</p> + +<p> +His tone was natural, easy, and most friendly, and +yet Hermione was not sure that he was satisfied with +her answer. Also, she wondered if he had an ulterior +motive in asking what he had done, and then justly +considered that her own suspicion of him was fathered +by the very fact of her own half-truth, and that she +herself was withholding something from him and, +in fact, doing exactly what she was accusing him in +her heart of doing. She was honest with herself about +that, and determined to make amends and to take him +at his word. Nothing else on her part would be +justifiable. +</p> + +<p> +So they turned into the smoking-room, and Frank +Daneham rose from the writing-table where he had +been finishing some letters, and greeted the newcomer, +if not cordially, at least in a passably friendly +manner. +</p> + +<p> +"What brings you over here, Bessington?" he +asked, after they had shaken hands. Briefly the other +explained what he had already explained to Hermione, +and she in her turn added that she had told him +of what had happened on the previous night. +</p> + +<p> +Frank nodded, instantly guessing her reason. After +all, he had no grounds—beyond the fact that Bessington +had shown curiosity to the inspector—for supposing +that he had come over for any other reason +than the one he had stated. Certainly, it was a +sufficiently good one. Mackay had asked him to do +what he could and therefore Hermione had been +right in telling him of what had occurred. There +were no two ways about that. +</p> + +<p> +"It's a rum affair altogether, isn't it?" he said. +"My only fear is that the fellow was speaking the +truth when he said he was finished with the job. +Only, somehow, my knowledge of human nature +makes me doubt it. I can imagine the danger, +excitement, and risk of the adventure gaining such a +hold on a fellow of his stamp and mentality that he +would find it difficult or nearly impossible to give up. +Also it must be a very paying game." +</p> + +<p> +"Undoubtedly. You are probably right. In my +opinion, if we could clip his wings, or better still, +send out false information by getting hold of his +accomplice here and either bribing or threatening him +into sending it—and people of that sort have their +price—we shall succeed in laying him by the heels. +The question is where to find this accomplice." +</p> + +<p> +"There are very few to choose from, when one +comes to think of it," replied Daneham. "So, as we +have an hour before lunch, I propose that we four—I'll +get hold of Iza, who has a keen business head—get +down to the sifting of them." He left the room +at that and returned almost immediately with the lady +in question. +</p> + +<p> +"A council of war, I understand," she said, as she +shook hands with Bessington. "And about time we did +something, too. When innocent people are drugged +and otherwise ill-treated, apparently with impunity, +it's about time to take action. And though, personally, +I have no grievance against the young man who +presented Hermione and me with that bundle of priceless +stockings, still I own that the Government has a +very big one, and I suppose that in honour one is +bound to help. So, to begin with, you can rule me out +of your possible suspects, though I can't own to a +clean sheet where the Dover Customs are concerned. +But I draw the line at wholesale smuggling because +I shouldn't make a success of it." +</p> + +<p> +"One is glad to hear that, anyway," replied Daneham. +"Let us take the servants first. All new, all +English, except the cook, who is Irish." +</p> + +<p> +"And old Betty," added Hermione. +</p> + +<p> +"She is hardly to be numbered among the household, +as she only comes in to help and lives outside. +The Mackenzies at the farm consist of—Donald, the +farmer, his wife, two kids and the old mother. +Donald, from what I have seen of him, appears to be a +staunch upholder of Law and Order and is the last +man to suspect. His wife the same. The mother too +old for that kind of game, the kids too young. +Farmhands negligible, but probably worth interviewing. +Gardeners all new to the place, and therefore ruled +out. Keeper's Lodge at present empty and no ghillies +on the place as yet. Ardenmore village—this I have +discovered from the chauffeur, James—consists of a +tiny kirk; a small post office whose mistress also +keeps a general store; about a dozen cottages in which +dwell the usual assortment of crofters—not the kind +of people to risk their liberty in a business of that +kind; a pub, owned by an ultra-respectable publican. +Hardly, in my opinion, worth visiting." +</p> + +<p> +"So far, It doesn't sound very promising," agreed +Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +"And even if there were any suspects among +them," added Iza Marsh, "I doubt if you would get +any forrarder if you did visit them. Also, I think +you are beginning at the wrong end." +</p> + +<p> +"Tell us, Marshy, where you would start," said +Hermione. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, who told you, or said anything in the first +place, about smuggling at all?" asked the elder woman. +</p> + +<p> +"Actually it was Mr. Bray. But surely you don't +suspect him?" +</p> + +<p> +"Suspect him? Fiddlesticks. One couldn't even suspect +him of a harmless flirtation with an underhouse-maid, +let alone an enterprising stunt like smuggling. +No. What I want to get at is, who told him about it; +and then on down to bed-rock." +</p> + +<p> +"I can't possibly answer that. He said there was a +rumour about it, that lights had been seen and a +mysterious car." +</p> + +<p> +"Originating probably from old Mrs. Mackenzie," +observed Daneham. "Anyone else say anything about +it?" +</p> + +<p> +Hermione was silent for a moment, and then of a +sudden her face lit up. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, yes, of course, Betty MacIvor said something +about it on the night we arrived. She told me +that no one dare go near the old tower, because there +was something there that scared people, and she +herself was apparently quite frightened about it." +</p> + +<p> +Bessington laughed, and it was not a pleasant laugh. +</p> + +<p> +"She was apparently warning you about it?" he +suggested. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes. I thought so at the time." +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly," the colonel turned to Iza Marsh. "You +are right," he said. "That was the end to start from. +Why should this person, Betty, wish to keep people +away from the tower unless she had a good reason +for doing so? If she is the accomplice we are looking +for, so long as the smuggling went on she is money +in pocket. Who is the woman?" +</p> + +<p> +"She was here in—in the Arden's time," said Hermione, +and then glanced hurriedly at Bessington. He +met her eyes and a queer expression crossed his face. +</p> + +<p> +"Here in the Ardens' time?" he repeated. "Then +she knows you?" +</p> + +<p> +"I saw her here once, that is all, and I don't think +she saw me. She knows nothing of my—my former +life." Again they looked at each other and she saw +suspicion dawn in his eyes. It was then that she +realized that he also suspected what she had so nearly +believed about Dominic Arden, and his next words +confirmed it. +</p> + +<p> +"I think we shall have no trouble in locating the +go-between," he said quietly. "For many reasons—" +these two words were emphasized—"it is quite +possible to believe that the woman, Betty MacIvor, is +the guilty party. I, personally, am pretty sure of +it." And an odd smile exposed his gleaming teeth. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap13"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XIII +<br><br> +THE BARGAIN +</h2> + +<p> +There was something almost vindictive in the way +in which Richard Bessington affirmed his conviction +of the guilt of Betty MacIvor, and it was obvious to +Hermione that he based his conviction on the fact +of her having known the Ardens in former years, +thereby conveying a tacit acknowledgment that +what she was doing was done for young Arden's sake +now—an acknowledgment also of Bessington's own +suspicions on this point. So obvious indeed was it, +that for a moment she felt incapable of continuing +the discussion without showing the alarm that she felt +on realizing this to be the case. So, with a word of +excuse that she must see Phillimore with regard to +a matter concerning luncheon, she rose abruptly and, +telling the others to carry on without her for a +moment, hurriedly left the room. +</p> + +<p> +Both Iza and Frank understood her reason for going, +and were glad in a way of the opportunity to discuss +the matter freely, which, in her presence, seeing +that it must infallibly bring in the name of Dominic +Arden, they could not do. +</p> + +<p> +"Why do you suspect Betty?" demanded Daneham, +as soon as the door had closed. +</p> + +<p> +"For many reasons. Firstly, she is on the premises—actually +within sight of the smuggling centre most +days of the week. Secondly, it is the kind of job that +a woman could undertake better than a man, who +would be more easily suspected, and she appears to +be the only likely female in the place. Am I right in +supposing that she was caretaker here when the house +was empty?" +</p> + +<p> +"She was," replied Iza. "Her cottage is only a +quarter of a mile away, nearer the sea." +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly, and therefore nearer the tower. Can +she read or write?" +</p> + +<p> +"That I don't know, nor yet how she could send +her messages, for the post office is twenty miles +away." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, at any rate, we can find out at the post office +if she ever went there to post letters." +</p> + +<p> +"Is there any other reason why you suspect her?" +asked Daneham, who was watching the other man's +face and knew that something ulterior was in his +mind. +</p> + +<p> +"N-no, perhaps not," he hesitated. "It did occur +to me that living with the Ardens she might also +have gained knowledge of certain secrets connected +with the tower. Did she, or rather has she, at any +time mentioned them to you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing very much," replied Iza. "I tried to draw +her the other day and all she said was that she used +to come and do the rough work of the house, that she +saw very little of the Ardens and less of young Dominic +who was, in her jargon, 'a guid laddie though albeit +queer in his ways', she only saw old Mr. Arden +once after his son's death when he came there to +arrange about selling the place. And it was only after +young Arden's death that she heard of his marriage +and did not know whom he had married, and I did +not enlighten her," added Iza crisply, "because +Hermione had asked me not to." +</p> + +<p> +There was silence after that, an uncomfortable +silence. Everyone felt tension in the air, and Iza +Marsh, in her abrupt way, put an end to it. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, there seems to be nothing gained by +prolonging the discussion any more. We appear to have +arrived at a definite conclusion, and the sooner we set +about testing it the better. I only hope that my +methods of investigation have not put poor old Betty +in the cart, as she is a good soul at heart, I think. +When do you propose to make inquiries at the post +office?" she turned to Frank. +</p> + +<p> +"Directly after luncheon," he replied. +</p> + +<p> +"Then I'll go in with you if I may," she said. +</p> + +<p> +"I shall be glad of your company," replied Frank. +</p> + +<p> +At luncheon, a little later, the atmosphere still +seemed to be strained, though everyone tried to +appear normal. They talked on ordinary topics, +avoiding mention of what was uppermost in their thoughts. +And all the time Hermione was conscious of one desire +only. To come to open grips with Dick Bessington. +To challenge him to be honest with her and tell +her what he really thought, why he had come, why he +had suspected Betty. And all the time she knew what +answer he would make. But far from deterring her it +made her the more determined to get down to +bedrock—to be done with deception—to get to the real +truth of things. +</p> + +<p> +When finally the meal was over and the car +ordered, she avoided any private conversation with +Frank. She did not want him to know what she +contemplated doing, for she felt sure he would try to +dissuade her. It was, therefore, with a sigh of relief +that she saw the car depart, and turned to the man +who was standing beside her. +</p> + +<p> +"Dick," she said. "Why do you really suspect +old Betty?" +</p> + +<p> +"For the reasons I have already specified to your +two friends, which I presume they gave you," was +the reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, Iza told me, but they don't sound convincing +to me, and I am sure you have another." +</p> + +<p> +He regarded her for a moment, and realized that +she knew he was keeping something back. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," he admitted: "I have another reason, but +it is nothing really, I would rather leave it alone for +the moment." +</p> + +<p> +"And I insist on hearing it," he spoke sharply. +"I insist on knowing what it is, and also why you +came here." +</p> + +<p> +"My dear girl," he protested. "What is all this +heat? I don't understand." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes you do. You know perfectly well, and I +hope you will be honest and tell me and not force me +to tell you what I think it is." +</p> + +<p> +They were in the drawing-room facing each other, +and Bessington, realizing that he had to deal with a +determined woman and knowing now that subterfuge +was no longer of any use, threw down his cards, and +for the first time showed his hand openly. +</p> + +<p> +"Then I'll tell you," he said, quietly. "I am here +because, from something Mackay told me, I suspect +what I have for long enough suspected, that your +first husband, Dominic Arden, is alive, and is mixed +up in this smuggling enterprise. I suspect Betty because +she worked for the Ardens, and would, in all probability, +do all she could to help young Arden, if he +should ever ask for help. These are the two questions +you asked me and I have answered them. More +than this, I tell you candidly that I believe you have +bought this place because you too, thought he was still +alive and might return to it, and that is why you are +here and not for the reasons you have told me. Come +now, are you satisfied? At least, I am honest with you, +now be as honest with me." +</p> + +<p> +For a moment there was silence, and then Hermione +faced him, but instead of making a statement, +she asked a question. +</p> + +<p> +"If you thought he was still alive why did you +persistently ask me to marry you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Again I will be honest," was the reply. "It was +because I loved you so passionately that I wanted you +at any price, right or wrong; it did not matter to me, +it never could matter. More than that, as you never +spoke of him, I thought you had got over your grief, +that if you became my wife I should make you so +happy that you would even forget the little that you +probably remembered of him. I thought that in +cherishing his memory at all—if you did—you were +cherishing an idle dream from which you would +awaken when you became my wife. And you would +have been my wife by law, for considering all the +evidence in support of his death and the number of +years that have passed, the law would certainly +presuppose him to be dead. +</p> + +<p> +"That is why I asked you to marry me, why I still +ask it, and shall never cease to ask it until you +comply. Oh, Hermione! Don't you understand? Can't +you see that you are the only thing that matters in +my life? That I can't live without you? That I +would do anything, right or wrong, to possess you?" There +was intense passion in his voice, in his eyes. +Never had she seen him so intensely moved before, +and for a moment remorse seized her, for she knew +that she had been partly to blame. +</p> + +<p> +"I see this," she replied, slowly. "I see that I +have been wrong in not telling you what I feel. It is +true that when I refused you on account of the fact +that I did not love you, I was speaking the truth. +But I should have said more. I should have told you +that I couldn't marry you because I still love my first +husband more than all the world. I see now how +wrong I was and I am bitterly sorry. I did not +realize what you felt, or what my refusal meant to you. +Now I see it, and I can only ask you to forgive me, +and to put me finally out of your thoughts." +</p> + +<p> +"And that's quite impossible," he replied. "Out +of the question. For even now, in spite of what you +have said, I feel that you are still under a delusion. +You believe that you still love this man, but—tell +me, Hermione, if that is so, how could you have +married Rodenberg?" +</p> + +<p> +"I married him for his money," she replied, +frankly. "Because he was an old man and could not +live long. Because at his death I knew I should be +able to buy back Ardenmore. I did not love him, and +I hated myself for marrying him, but I did so, thinking +that I was free to marry. This I can swear to. I +never for one moment believed that Dominic was +alive then." +</p> + +<p> +"Then when did you begin to do so?" he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +"I have not said that I do." +</p> + +<p> +"No, but I know that you think it. I'm sure of it, +and I believe that what has made me certain of it was +the same thing that led you to believe it possible." +</p> + +<p> +"Tell me what you mean," cried Hermione. "I +don't understand." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I'll tell you. Now that we are throwing our +cards down so recklessly, the whole pack may as well +go. From the moment when Inspector Mackay told +me of that scrap of paper with the date written on it, +I was certain that Dominic Arden was alive. Now, +come, be honest with me, did you not think so, too?" +</p> + +<p> +"So you knew of that?" she gasped. "And that is +really why you are here? To—to—try and get hold +of him, to hang him! And you tell me that you love +me! You!" She gave a harsh, discordant laugh and +turned away from him. +</p> + +<p> +But Dick Bessington seized her arm and swung her +round. "I did not say so," he said, sharply. "Nor +do I mean it. But come, you haven't answered me. +I asked you if that date that was found made you +believe that he was alive. Tell me, you owe it to me to +tell me." +</p> + +<p> +"I owe you nothing," she replied proudly, never +even deigning to free her arm from his grasp. "But +because you have been honest with me I will be the +same with you. Yes, I did believe it had some +connection with him. I think—though I have tried not +to do so—that I think so still. Even in spite of the +fact that the Frenchman denied all knowledge of him. +In spite of what he said, I still think it has some +connection with poor Dominic. Now, will that satisfy +you? And what do you mean to do?" +</p> + +<p> +"I am going to marry you, Hermione, in spite of +all you have said to me, in spite of everything and +everyone," was the quiet reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Please don't talk nonsense," she said, coldly. +"Dominic is my husband, and if he is alive I shall +find him and go to him." +</p> + +<p> +"Good God! Hermione, think what you are saying," +he exclaimed. "How could you be happy joined +once more to a man who is a hunted criminal? Who +is wanted for murder and who would spend the rest +of his life in being hounded from place to place? +What happiness could come of such an existence? I +shudder even to think of it. Your love for him, which, +after all, is only a foolish sentimental dream, would +soon die under such conditions. All the riches in the +world would not be able to help him—once he is +known to be alive—or you. No, my dear. Be wise, +give up all thought of this man, I beg of you." +</p> + +<p> +"And that I refuse to do," she replied. "I shall do +my utmost to find out if it is true or not that he is +still alive, and if I do find him I shall join him, help +him, die for him if needs be. My only fear is that +we are both wrong, that he is dead and has been dead +for nine years, and that I shall join him only when I +die. There, I have nothing more to say; I suppose +now that you will go to the police with your suspicions +and get them to help you to find him yourself." +</p> + +<p> +"No," he replied, quietly. "I shall do no such +thing. This is a personal affair and I intend to carry +out my investigations privately. For I, too, am as +keen to know if he is alive as you are, though for a +different reason." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," cried Hermione, with blazing eyes. "You +want to hang him, to make sure once and for all that +he is dead." +</p> + +<p> +But at that Bessington only smiled. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear child," he said reproachfully, "can you +seriously say this—to me? Can't you see that if I +did such a thing as that, I would be cutting myself +adrift from you for ever? I should then indeed +deserve your hatred, not your love. No, I want to +find him for a different reason to that, and I'll tell +you what it is. There is one point in this affair that +neither of us has touched on. I refer to the fact that +the young man Arden—if alive—and this I believe +to be a certainty, has been at great pains to keep +away from you, hasn't he?" +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean?" she demanded. +</p> + +<p> +"I mean that if a man really loves a woman, there +is actually nothing that will keep him away from her +except physical force. And yet, though this young +man has the means to come here—by which I refer +to the boat used by the Frenchman—and though it +must be obvious who Mrs. Rodenberg is—for your +name is very often in the papers, and the fact that +you bought this place was extensively advertised—yet, +he makes no attempt to see you. Strange, is it +not?" +</p> + +<p> +"He would not care to drag me into his troubles—" +she began, but Bessington stopped her. +</p> + +<p> +"Nonsense," he said. "That would not come into +it in this case. He could get over here and see you +without being seen. No, my dear, that won't do, and +I'm afraid it is the one factor that will at last bring +you to see things from my point of view. I say afraid, +because it will hurt you when you get to know the +truth." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't believe it for a moment," said Hermione, +defiantly, but with no real conviction in her heart. +For what Bessington had said was true, though her +pride refused to allow it for a moment. For, to put it +plainly, if Dominic was not dead, why had he not +been over to see her? +</p> + +<p> +"So true do I believe my suspicions to be," went on +Bessington, watching her tell-tale face, "that I am +ready to make a bargain with you, and it is this: If, +when I find him—if I do—I find that he has ceased +to care for you, well, then, I take action, for which in +your heart you could not blame me, and I demand +your promise of marriage. If, on the other hand, I +find that you are right and I wrong, and that there +is a valid reason for his staying away from you, then +I declare most solemnly to you that I will do nothing +more in the matter and will let him go, at whatever +cost to me, and God knows what a cost it will be. +For they are no idle words, Hermione, when I say +that I can't live without you." +</p> + +<p> +She was silent. What was there to say? If he meant +this, then there was nothing but gratitude in her heart +for him. But she felt that he would not offer such a +thing unless he was quite sure of the issue, and either +it would turn out that he was right and Dominic +had forgotten her and ceased to care, or else Dick +Bessington never meant to carry out his promise, and, +somehow, she could not really trust him. And yet +she had to do so. For the offer on the face of it was +fair enough. She would have to agree to the bargain, +for if she refused he would have every right +to go to the police with his story. +</p> + +<p> +"Very well," she said, quietly. "I agree, of course." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you," he replied, gravely. "I have your +permission, then, to make what investigations I like?" +</p> + +<p> +"Of course, that is understood in the bargain." +</p> + +<p> +"And may I take a walk to the tower?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly, you can go where you like," she replied. +"You are just as likely to find the secret as I +am, and I have failed. I don't think that anyone will +find it." +</p> + +<p> +But in that she was wrong. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap14"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XIV +<br><br> +THE SECRET OF THE CLOCK +</h2> + +<p> +"Well, what do you think about things, my dear +man?" asked Iza Marsh, as the car swung along the +Ardenmore road. +</p> + +<p> +"About things?" repeated Daneham. "Meaning, +I suppose, about Dick Bessington." +</p> + +<p> +"Bother the man! Of course. Is it necessary for +me to cross my t's and dot my i's, or were you merely +giving yourself time to think how you should answer +my question?" +</p> + +<p> +Frank Daneham smiled. "How well you know +human nature," he said. +</p> + +<p> +"Being very human myself and prone to subterfuge, +I naturally judge most people as myself. Come, +out with it, is it to be the truth, or what you think is +best for me to know?" +</p> + +<p> +"I think that sort of thing would hardly work with +you, would it, Iza? No. I did honestly doubt if I +should tell you my real opinion, but your subsequent +remarks showed me the error of my ways. Candidly +then, I am not pleased." +</p> + +<p> +"And neither are we amused," added the stout +lady. "In my opinion Colonel Bessington has an +amazing impudence to come and thrust himself here, +interfering in something that doesn't concern him." +</p> + +<p> +"But I'm afraid that it does, in a way that all crime +concerns good citizens. Beside, he was asked to do +so by Mackay." +</p> + +<p> +"But, my dear man, why didn't Mackay come himself +and ask the people living on the spot—by which +I mean us—to help him, if he couldn't manage the +job himself?" +</p> + +<p> +"For the very good reason that he doesn't trust +the people living on the spot," was the reply. "And +I am afraid I must admit in all fairness that he +is perfectly right. Though he was quite polite to me +when I went over to see him, I felt, all through the +interview, that he was not sure of me, and you heard +Bessington admit candidly that he actually suspects +our Hermione. In the circumstances, therefore, I +approve his choice of Bessington, though I do not +approve Bessington's motives." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, then you think he is out for something more +than to assist justice?" +</p> + +<p> +"I think we all feel that he suspects something +more than meets the eye. For one thing—which for +obvious reasons I did not tell Hermione—it appears +that Mackay told him about that bit of paper and the +date, and, you know, he is one of the four who know +the meaning of that date. Naturally he must have sat +up and taken notice when he heard of it. Equally +naturally he would come over on the very slightest +excuse in order to look into it. I only wish to God I +knew the truth myself instead of this racking +uncertainty." +</p> + +<p> +Iza Marsh was unusually silent for a while. +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't know this, of course," she said at length. +"It makes all the difference. It proves why the man +is here, and in my opinion makes his offence in coming +the greater. Has he no heart? No feeling? If he is in +love with Hermione, how does he reconcile this wish +to hound down the man she cares for, or, at least, in +whose memory she is bound up body and soul, with a +desire for her happiness?" +</p> + +<p> +"Simply because, I suppose, he refuses to believe +that any woman can remain true to the memory of a +man who is supposed to have died nine years ago. +He will put it down to ridiculous sentiment, to a +dream, to an idea that will die a natural death +directly she becomes his own wife. I can sympathize in a +way, for it is most unusual, I own, especially in these +days when death has not been of so much account +since the War, and when sentiment is at a discount +and the hectic journey of life gives one little time for +thought or remembrance. Also, one must remember +the kind of man he is. Hard in a way, mercilessly +unforgiving where anything touches himself—and +Grimshawe was a great friend—and having only one +devouring passion in his life—his love—selfish, +animal love perhaps, but love all the same—for +Hermione. We have got to take all that into +consideration before we begin to judge him." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I suppose you are right," she admitted, +grudgingly, "but I'm not as good-natured as you, +Frank. I never liked the man and Hermione knows +that perfectly well. I'm devoted to her—unselfishly +devoted, thank God—and I own I would sacrifice +myself to help her if necessary, so that I can't +understand anyone who pretends to care for her not doing +the same. If Dominic Arden is alive, for God's sake +let Bessington leave him alone. If he was as much in +love with our girl as she with him, what a hell of +misery and torture he must have gone through in all +these years of separation. Surely that is punishment +enough; and that, to my mind, is the greatest mystery +of the whole affair—how he could have kept away +from her, made no attempt to see her. And that is +the one overpowering fact which proves to me that +the man must be dead after all." +</p> + +<p> +"Granted, again. It is as great a puzzle to me, +and God knows if we shall ever solve it. I'd—yes, I'd +give my life, gladly, for Hermione, and if it was for +her happiness I'd do my damnedest to bring the two +together again—if he's alive—but somehow, I can't +see that it is for her happiness. I don't refer now to +the possible results to himself if he came back here, +for I believe that if Bessington could be induced to +hold his tongue, nothing would be done about it. +No one troubles now about a crime which took place +during a hectic year of war, and no one would take +action unless forced to do so, and unless the whole +thing was raked up again and the witnesses alive and +able to come forward—no, I don't mean that. What +I mean is that I am not sure of Dominic himself. The +lad I knew and loved would have come to her at +whatever risk, if only to see her, to know that she +was happy. But this man, if he is alive, has done +nothing. He remains, to all intents and purposes, +dead, and yet alive enough to be mixed up in a +criminal smuggling enterprise." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes. If that paper really had anything to do with +him," struck in Iza quickly. +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly. And there again we are up against it. +The Frenchman said it was given to him by a pal, +because he had a bad memory and could not remember +the date, so he wrote it down. But what had the +third of December to do with a smuggling enterprise, +undertaken in early May? Oh! Hang it all! This is +like going round in a vicious circle and getting +nowhere. Let us, for mercy's sake, drop the subject +and talk of something else." +</p> + +<p> +So they chatted inconsequently until the tiny village +was reached, and the car drawn up outside the +diminutive post office. +</p> + +<p> +Frank Daneham sprang out and made his way +through some staring, gaping children into the tiny +room which smelt of a strange mixture of peat, +apples, and Harris tweed, and where behind the counter +he saw the little woman who acted as post-mistress +and who greeted him with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +"It's a graand day, sir," she said, with a welcoming +smile. +</p> + +<p> +"Wonderful, Mrs. Fergusson; it is good to be +alive on such a day. Can you let me have five shillings' +worth of three-half penny stamps, and are there +any letters for Ardenmore House?" +</p> + +<p> +"None at a', sir." She busied herself with the +stamps, and Daneham put his first question. +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose you have few customers for stamps, +Mrs. Fergusson?" +</p> + +<p> +"A' weel, sir, not so many to be sure. Though now +and again a body comes in for a stamp and a crack, +but it's the gentry at Ardenmore House that are my +best customers." +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose so. Do you ever see anything of old +Betty MacIvor?" +</p> + +<p> +"Auld Betty? No, sir. It's ower twelve months +since she were here." +</p> + +<p> +"But I suppose she gets some of her provisions +from you, doesn't she?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh aye. Now and again. One of the laddies +from Mackenzie's Farm happens in on his bicycle +and takes back what he is wantin'." +</p> + +<p> +"Stamps, I suppose, among other things?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nae. Never a stamp, sir. I've never known +Betty MacIvor to post a letter in her life." +</p> + +<p> +"But she can write, I suppose?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh aye, she can write and read, but she does na' +write letters. Will that be all right, sir, and is there +anything mair you will be needing?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing, thanks. But tell me, Mrs. Fergusson, +has a letter ever come through your hands addressed +to any of the newspapers? Anyone sending an +advertisement in, you know, would address to a +newspaper?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not to my knowledge, sir," she shook her head +emphatically. "No, I'm quite sure of it, for I would +have noticed it and called it to mind. But you'll be +wanting to know for a reason? Has anything +miscarried, by chance?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, no. Mere idle curiosity. Well, thanks very +much. I'll be getting back now." +</p> + +<p> +"You'll be hearing of the smuggling, pairhaps?" +she questioned, reluctant to let him go without +learning something of what had been an exciting event +among the villagers. "I heeard tell the pollis were +aboot and had kept a watch at the tower yonder." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, they did, but as nothing happened and as +the gang was caught farther south, of course nothing +further has been done about it." +</p> + +<p> +"Aye, to be sure, so we heeard, but I wondered if +it was true or not. I'm glad they're caught, for it's +ill-doing to have the likes of such gentry aboot the +place." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I think we can lie safe in our beds now, +Mrs. Ferguson. Well, good evening." +</p> + +<p> +He went out and got into the car. +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing doing there," he said, as he backed into +a side-lane preparatory to turning. "Betty has never +been known to write a letter in her life and there +have been no letters sent to any newspapers. So I'm +afraid our little theory is not going to work. I +wonder what Bessington will have to say to that." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't care what he says, I know what I think. +And that is that if it's not Betty, it's certainly +someone else. Information has been sent by someone, but +how?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm hanged if I know, and for the moment I'm +not going to bother," replied Daneham. "I've done +my bit in coming here, now Bessington can do his in +finding out how it has been done. I expect he's +thought out an alternative to Betty." +</p> + +<p> +But Richard Bessington was not concerned with +Betty MacIvor. He was at that moment striding +up the grassy slope towards the old tower intent on +one thing only—to discover what connection, if any, +the words written on that bit of paper had with the +tower and the gang who were engaged in their +felonious enterprise. +</p> + +<p> +He first of all proceeded to examine the building +from outside, and, a lover of the antique, was filled +with admiration at its massive structure and good +preservation. It was, indeed, difficult to imagine +why there was only the one tower remaining. But +when he considered that the destruction of the rest +was probably due to cannon balls, he concluded that +it was sheer luck that had left the one tower standing +at all. +</p> + +<p> +Wondering how the battlemented top of the building +was reached, he soon discovered, on going inside, +the walled-in circular stairs, the first few steps of +which showed through a tiny doorway. His first act, +therefore, was to ascend to the top and take a look at +the surrounding view. It was a wild and rugged +scene, with a vast expanse of sea showing through the +opening in the little natural harbour. An ideal +landing-place, an ideal watch-tower. But as there was +nothing to be learned up there, he retraced his steps +and stood once more in the bare chamber. +</p> + +<p> +And here the first object that caught his eye was +the clock in the wall, a curious object to find in such a +place. Perhaps the Ardens had placed it there, +having used the room as a schoolroom, or office. But +examination of the object in question showed him his +mistake. The clock was of ancient make, obviously +built into the wall over a century ago, and apparently +now hopelessly out of order. It must, he thought, +have been a wonderful piece of mechanism in its day, +and he examined it more closely. Clocks, however, +had no sort of interest for him at the moment and, +turning away, he began a systematic examination of +the walls and floors and found them solid and without +flaw. +</p> + +<p> +And yet Frank Daneham had sworn to the bales of +silken goods and to their subsequent disappearance, +and from the nature of the ground it was quite +impossible that a car could have come to within a +hundred and fifty yards of the tower, and yet, had they +carried the goods by hand down to a waiting car in +the woods, Hermione must have seen them on her +way to look for Daneham. For it would have taken +even two men a considerable time to do this. +</p> + +<p> +Where, then, had they hidden the stuff during the +time that Daneham lay drugged and helpless in this +very room? +</p> + +<p> +He sat down on the chair and tried to think it out, +and as he sat, his eyes gradually roamed back to the +clock embedded in the wall in front of him. And +there, finally, they stayed. +</p> + +<p> +Why was it there? What was its purpose, save to +indicate the hour, the day, week and month, which +now it failed most completely to do? +</p> + +<p> +He rose and went to it and examined it again +more carefully. What were those numbers for, up to +a hundred, and completely circling the outside? One +hand was there which might point to a number. It +was at the moment pointing to the number 92. He +would see if it moved, and putting up his hand took +hold of it and drew it downwards. And then he +paused and stared, for in moving it he had discovered +that it covered another hand, and, out of curiosity, he +moved that also to the right. Underneath was a third +hand and again a fourth. +</p> + +<p> +Four hands evidently meant to point to four figures. +Why? He looked at them as they now pointed +haphazard where he had moved them. The first +pointed to 92, the second to 98, the third to 1, and +the fourth to 5. What was it for? Ninety-two, +ninety-eight, one, five. Adding the numerals together +they made thirty-four, and adding up the entire +amount, one hundred and ninety-six. And that told +him nothing. +</p> + +<p> +He looked at the other dials, moved the hand +which indicated the months and placed it to May. +Then he tried the hand which showed the days and +placed it at Tuesday. For no reason at all he moved +the hand on another dial which indicated thirty-one +figures—obviously the days of the month to—15. +</p> + +<p> +"Let's see," he said aloud. "That makes it +Tuesday the fifteenth of May." Once more he glanced +at the outer round of numbers with the four hands, +and, with an ejaculation of amazement at his own +stupidity, he moved the hands to the figures—1,9,2,6. +"Of course, that's it. When in working order the +thing gave the exact date. Now it is Tuesday, the +fifteenth of May, nineteen-twenty-six. What an ass +I——" +</p> + +<p> +And then he stopped, clapped a hand to his head +and stared at the clock before him. +</p> + +<p> +"By God!" he muttered. "Of course, that's it. It's +a combination safe!" +</p> + +<p> +And very carefully he began to move the hands on +every dial, changing them until—instead of the date +which they had indicated before—they now showed +Monday, December the third, nineteen-seventeen. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap15"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XV +<br><br> +THE SMUGGLERS' CACHE +</h2> + +<p> +As the car swung up to the door, Hermione came out +and stood in the opening, watching its two occupants +rather anxiously. Iza Marsh got out and Daneham +drove round to the garage. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, my dear, you look scared. What's the +matter?" demanded the elder woman. +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing. Tell me, what did you find?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing either. But my nothing is true, yours is +not. Tell me, what is it, child?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, really nothing, it doesn't matter, I suppose," +she spoke wearily. "Dick and I had words, but we +understand each other now, so that's something." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I'm glad to hear that. Though you don't +look too overjoyed by it," commented Iza, crisply. +"Where is the man? Gone, I hope." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, no. He has gone to the tower. He has a +perfect right, of course, to do what he can to help +the police, but—well—of course, I shall have to tell +you—he really believes that poor Dominic is +alive—and—and mixed up in this business. He knows about +the date on the paper, and he means to find him if he +can. We have made a sort of bargain. I was in a way +forced to make it; besides, in a way, he is justified. +He says that as Dominic has never been near me it +means that either he is really dead, or that he has +ceased to care." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, my dear, I can't help agreeing to that," +said her friend. "It's my one stumbling-block. Well +so I suppose the bargain is that if he finds he does +still care and in some way or another can't come to +you, he'll sheer off and leave him alone, is that it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes. But if, on the other hand, it is as he thinks +it is, then—well, you can guess what will happen +then." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, child, I think I can. And if he sticks to his +bargain, well and good, but will he?" +</p> + +<p> +"That's it. I don't feel that I can trust or believe +in him, and I'm terribly frightened of what will +happen and—and—" But here suddenly Hermione, who +had gone through much during her friend's absence +broke down and the next instant was in the stout +woman's arms. +</p> + +<p> +"My poor darling. Don't cry, child, and don't +worry. If your boy is alive, he shan't fall into that +man's hands, bargain or no bargain. My word! I +could gladly shoot the brute for worrying you like +that. But the worst of it is we can't afford to quarrel +with him or prevent his coming here. He's got us on +the score of the smuggling stunt. And if we objected +he would have a perfect right to go to the police, and +that we don't want at any price. All we can do is to +carry on and try and beat him at his own game—by +low cunning. How it's to be done, I can't say for +the moment, but there'll be some way, my dear, and +after all, you may be distressing yourself to no +purpose. How do we know that there'll be anyone to +catch? That Frenchman said he had done. Well, +perhaps he had. At any rate, Bessington can't stop +here for ever, and he can't stay here unless you ask +him to. So what he proposes to do, I can't imagine." +</p> + +<p> +"He is staying only twenty miles away," replied +Hermione, drying her tears. "He can come over +here at any time, night and day. There is nothing to +prevent him. And if we refuse to allow him, very +likely the police will come, and they will station a +destroyer or a Government boat of some kind in the +bay, and then Dominic will never be able to come, +and how can I know where he is? Don't you see, +dear? I am longing, aching for him to come. If I +could only find the person who is signalling and bribe +them to send for him, I would give all I possess, +indeed I would." +</p> + +<p> +"I know. I quite see that, and I'm afraid in the +matter of the signalling person we are as far off as +ever. Betty has never sent a letter from here in her +life. So it looks as though it's not her at all." +</p> + +<p> +"Then who is it, who can it be?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know, my dear, but I've got an idea in +my head and mean to see what comes of it. I intend +to walk over to the cottage myself while Betty is +working here, and do a bit of poking round. And +I'm going directly after we've had tea. And here's +Frank, so just tell him all about it and don't worry +any more." +</p> + +<p> +It was impossible to feel despondent with two such +cheerful and optimistic friends. +</p> + +<p> +"Let him hunt, he'll find nothing," said Frank +Daneham. "If the police did not, and you and I and +the sharpest woman in the world—represented by +Iza—did not, why should he? He can do nothing, after +all. Above all, do not let us quarrel with him. If our +friends, the smugglers, are coming back, they will +come; worrying won't stop them. And when they +come it will be at night. Bessington won't be here at +night. My only fear is that they won't come. And +I should very much like to meet that young Frenchman +again and return the compliment he paid to me." He +turned to Iza, with a smile. "By all means go and +poke about at Betty's cottage," he went on. "I don't +know what you think you'll find or even what you +propose to look for, but go, if it seems good to you." +</p> + +<p> +"It's only a theory," was the reply, and directly +she had had her tea she went. +</p> + +<p> +Betty MacIvor's cottage was in the direction of +the tower, but further inland, and to reach it, several +fields had to be traversed by a narrow path. On the +way there Iza Marsh had a good view of the tower, +but so far as she could see from that distance, there +were no signs of Colonel Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps he's drawn blank, feels a fool, is afraid +to face Hermione after his disgraceful behaviour, +and has gone home," she thought, and continued her +walk in happy ignorance of the true state of things +over at the tower. +</p> + +<p> +Arrived at length at Betty's cottage, and having +overcome her preliminary sensation of bewilderment +and amazement, that any human being could bear to +inhabit such a lonely dwelling all by herself, she first +of all knocked perfunctorily at the door—well +aware of the fact that no one was within to answer +it—and finding it locked and the windows fastened, +she proceeded to prowl round the premises in search +of anything suspicious in the nature of telephone +wires, which at first she had thought might possibly +exist, but which her search proved to be unfounded. +</p> + +<p> +There was a small garden at the back of the cottage, +and what looked to be a fowl-house at the end +of it, but neither sign of cock nor hen, or anything +appertaining to the farmyard did she see. At which +her hopes rose abundantly, and her steps quickened +along the path that led to it. And here she found +what—as she would put it—common sense had told +her to look for. The end of the fowl-house, instead +of being made of solid wooden boards as were the +other three sides, consisted of fine meshed wire +netting, and, looking through this, she saw, instead of +the domestic fowl, five very fine pigeons. +</p> + +<p> +"Carrier!" she exclaimed, triumphantly. "So now +we know, and that's one up to Bessington, drat him! +All we have to do now is to threaten old Betty with +exposure and we have the field to ourselves." +</p> + +<p> +With which optimistic solution of all their difficulties, +she started back on her way home. And once +again glancing across over the rugged bit of moorland +which separated the area of agricultural ground +upon which she walked and the jagged rocks near +the sea, she noted the absence of anyone at the tower, +and supposed either that her first surmise had been +correct, or else that Colonel Bessington had gone +where she was now going. +</p> + +<p> +"To report failure," she thought, with a nod of +her head at her own success. "Which, by the way, +he shall not share. If Betty is to be dealt with, she +will be dealt with by us." +</p> + +<p> +But if she had been successful, how much more so +had been Richard Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +No sooner had he tumbled to the meaning of the +clock—the solving of the mystery of which had taken +him as many minutes as it had taken Dominic Arden +days—than he proceeded to put his discovery to the +test. +</p> + +<p> +He first of all adjusted the hands pointing to the +respective figures to an exact and minute nicety, +guessing that the mechanism of the safe—as he +supposed it to be—would require that before it would +open. Having done so, he took hold of the left side +of the clock face and pulled it towards him. +</p> + +<p> +To his intense surprise, instead of the clock face +only opening and revealing a receptacle for +depositing stolen goods, the whole length of the wooden +structure—of the grandfather type—came forward, +revealing not a safe but another door exactly +corresponding with the clock face and with the same dials +and hands, only on the reverse side. And whereas +the clock opened inwards, the second door opened +outwards and revealed an opening in the wall through +which a man could pass with ease, and the top step +of a flight of steps which disappeared into darkness. +</p> + +<p> +For a moment he stood where he was looking +down into the black depth from which a cold, damp, +musty draught was coming. This, then, was the +answer to what had so puzzled Frank Daneham. +Namely, how the Frenchman could have got the +goods away in time without being seen by Hermione +that night. This, too, explained where he must have +lain hid while the police inspector was keeping his +watch. Obviously a room beneath the tower, possibly +even another exit that way. But of this he must +make sure. What a thousand pities he had not +thought to bring his electric torch with him, now +lying uselessly on the table beside his bed at the Glen. +</p> + +<p> +All he possessed was a cigarette-lighter which, +when ignited, burned a tiny flame until the methylated +spirit was exhausted. He had fortunately had it +replenished that morning and for want of a better +it would have to serve. So he lit it and slowly and +very carefully began his descent of the stairs, pausing +only to feel with his stick and make sure that the +next step was solid. At the fourteenth step he struck +solid ground, and by dint of careful pacing found +that he was in an underground vault of some twenty +feet square and which had an opening at one end +large enough for a fair-sized car to pass down. +</p> + +<p> +Down this passage or tunnel, therefore, he went, +hoping fervently that the light would hold out until +he had gained the end, wherever it might lead to. +</p> + +<p> +It led, after fifty yards' walking, straight down +in a steep incline right into a wide and swiftly-running +river which appeared to run underground for +some considerable distance, and at the end of the +tunnel he saw the faint light of day and the vision of +pine trees. +</p> + +<p> +Here he had, perforce, to stop, having no wish to +get wet and, indeed, not feeling absolutely sure +that he could stand up against the force of the water, +which looked, in the faint glimmer of his light, +exceedingly deep, but which to his surprise, when he +tested it with his stick, was not more than a foot in +depth. +</p> + +<p> +"Easy for a car to make her way up that," he +thought. "And no one in their senses would ever +dream that down the river—even if they dared to +venture through the tunnel—would be found an entrance +to the tower. Wonderfully ingenious, and not +surprising there was a mystery about a car." +</p> + +<p> +So thinking, he turned and, as he did so, his tiny +light flickered and went out. But it would, he +reflected, be easy to find his way back, for there was +but the one passage, and he knew that at a bend in it +some way along, he would see the glimmer of light +through the clock at the top of the steps to direct +him. +</p> + +<p> +And as he felt his way back, passing a hand along +the rough walls of the tunnel—hacked out, no doubt, +by smugglers some hundred or more years ago, and +once more used by the descendants of their trade—he +wondered what he should do with his knowledge. +</p> + +<p> +One thing now was certain, and that was the fact +of Dominic Arden's existence. For it must have +been he who, with sardonic humour, had set the clock +at that date, and afraid or too wise to come himself +again had told his friend where to set the hands in +order to open the secret door, and because that friend +was afflicted with a bad memory, had written it down +for him. +</p> + +<p> +What should he do? Keep the knowledge to himself +or tell the police, and let them set men to watch +in the underground room? That, perhaps, was his +duty; his duty, too, to tell those at Ardenmore +House. But was duty always necessary? After all, +it was he who had discovered the secret, not they or +the police. And if they knew, Hermione, at least, +would do her best to thwart him in every way. If, +also, he told the police, the matter would be taken +over by them, and he would have no more say in it. +And he wanted a say, very badly indeed. +</p> + +<p> +But also, he could do nothing alone. Single-handed, +he would be powerless against the smuggling +gang if they returned. And there was only one man +whom he could ask to help him. On the other hand, +did he keep it to himself and manage to capture any +of the gang, what would the authorities say when +they discovered that he had known of this place and +had not informed them? +</p> + +<p> +Above all, what would Hermione say? +</p> + +<p> +It was a very nasty problem which he had to solve, +and he realized that he had only the time during +which he would walk that half-mile back to the house +in which to solve it. +</p> + +<p> +He gained the steps at last, mounted them and +then examined the back of the clock-which had now +swung back against the wall. He saw that each +number consisted of a steel disc which, as the hand +pointed to it, shot out, fitting into a corresponding +blank space on the other door, which opened inwards +over the steps. In order to set the clock it was +necessary to stand on the second step with a light and with +the other door closed. There were dials and hands +exactly similar to those on the front face of the clock, +and according to the position in which those were set, +so only could the door be opened by setting them on +the face of the clock in a similar position. Then when +so set, the clock must be drawn into place, the hands +moved to any figure or number save those set at the +back, when automatically the discs would shoot out, +clipping the two doors together, and rendering them +immovable until the magic date was reset once more +on the clock face, when again the discs would shoot, +this time into space, releasing the doors from one +another. Once forget the date fixed on the back, and +woebetide the unfortunate criminal wishing to escape +at a moment's notice through the secret door. For +the combinations were so many that it would be almost +impossible to hit on the exact date by accident. +Even should he get the year exact, the month and the +day, if the date of the month was wrong, that disc +would still hold the two doors together, refusing to +release them until the magic number was set. +</p> + +<p> +"A wonderful contrivance," he thought, as he drew +the inner door to, swung back the clock face, and +began to readjust the hands. He placed them as near as +possible to where he had found them, tried the door, +and discovered it firmly shut. Then, with a glance +at his wrist-watch, which showed him it was past +five o'clock, he set out upon the walk home. +</p> + +<p> +And on the way he made up his mind as to what +he should do. Right or wrong he had told Hermione +he would win her. By fair means or foul—After all +who should be a judge as to what was fair in love? +</p> + +<p> +He reached the house as Iza Marsh came down +the garden path on her return from Betty's cottage. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," she said, cheerfully, "find anything?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing at all," he replied, quietly. +</p> + +<p> +"Same here," said she laconically, and wondered +if the man was as big a liar as she was. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap16"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XVI +<br><br> +BETTY MACIVOR'S POSTAL SERVICE +</h2> + +<p> +It was with a feeling of intense relief that Hermione, +Iza Marsh, and Frank Daneham heard the retreating +hum of the car as, ten minutes later, Richard Bessington +took his departure. They parted on friendly +terms, each conscious that they were withholding +some knowledge of vital importance from the other; +each sure that they were justified in so doing. +</p> + +<p> +"I can but report to the police our failure so far," +Bessington had said. "But I will tell Mackay that you +people here are going on with your investigations +into that signalling, and if you want me, I shall be +only too glad to come over. I have finished the +search on my own account, but only for the moment," +he added, with a meaning glance at Hermione. "For +our bargain still holds good, doesn't it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," she replied gravely. "I am not afraid," +she added. +</p> + +<p> +"Nor am I," was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +And so they parted, Bessington to return eventually +to the Glen to think out what would be his best +plan of action, while the three others were left with +a sense of freedom from a menace which none of +them could actually define. +</p> + +<p> +"I wonder if that man is the most unmitigated liar +on earth or if I beat him by a short head," was Iza's +first comment, as the three returned to the +smoking-room—the most comfortable room in the +house—where they proposed to hold a short conference +before dinner. +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean, darling?" asked Hermione, +who was tired and dispirited, and racked by a haunting +fear that even should they succeed in finding her +husband, they might also find that Bessington was +right in his surmise and she was wrong. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I'll tell you," replied the other, cheerfully. +"It's a bit of good news and you both look as if you +wanted bucking up. I kept it, too, until that man had +gone, and that was some task, I assure you, as I was +bursting with it. But I was afraid that if I told you +before he had gone, you might by a look or even a +hesitating manner give the show away, and Dick +Bessington is as cute as a C.I.D. man. The fact is, +my dears, that I have discovered that Betty MacIvor +is the guilty party, and I know the means by which +she sends her warnings." +</p> + +<p> +"No? Marshy! Not really?" Hermione's voice, +which a moment before had been listless and sad, +was suddenly full of tense excitement. Frank +Daneham uttered an ejaculation of surprise. +</p> + +<p> +"Good Lord! Do you mean this?" +</p> + +<p> +"I do, bless you. It's a good stunt, too. She sends +them by carrier pigeon. She's got two brace and a +half shut up in a fowl-house." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Marshy! And we never thought of that!" +cried Hermione. +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly. I thought of telephones, but not +pigeons and in looking for wires I found the birds. +So all we have to do now is to tackle her, and you, +Hermione, have got to do it." +</p> + +<p> +"By Jove!" cried Frank. "Well done you! Fancy +Bessington and I never thinking of that. Of course, +the thing's easy. There must be someone living not +too far off from here—one of the receivers of the +smuggled goods, possibly a well-known tradesman, +otherwise eminently respectable and respected among +his fellow-men and an ardent supporter of law and +order. He gets the message, sends the advertisement +to the papers and along come the rest of the gang +either with more goods or else to take off the +returning smuggler. Easy enough indeed. But why should +Hermione be the one to tackle the old girl?" +</p> + +<p> +"Because she'll be able to get at the soft side of +her," was the reply, "and she's got a strong card to +play." +</p> + +<p> +"I know what you mean," said Hermione, with an +unwonted sparkle in her eyes and speaking openly on +the subject on which, until then, she had maintained +a marked silence. "She has no idea that I am +Dominic's wife. After all, who thinks of me as anyone but +the wealthy widow, Rodenberg? Yes, I'll do it. +Anything to get him here! To know—once and for +all. Oh! It seems too wonderful to be true." +</p> + +<p> +"It's true, all right, my dear," said her buxom +friend. "And the sooner you see her the better, +before the police get more suspicious and send a +Government boat along." +</p> + +<p> +Hermione glanced at the clock. +</p> + +<p> +"Betty will have gone home by now, so I'll put my +things on and go to her cottage. It will be better in +any case to see her there." +</p> + +<p> +So once more a lonely figure started out upon a +lonely walk, and this time the knock upon the door +was neither perfunctory, nor did it remain unanswered. +</p> + +<p> +Old Betty appeared in the doorway, and seeing +who her visitor was, smiled a welcome, and asked her +to come in. +</p> + +<p> +"Whiles I'm hoping there's naething wrong at the +hoose, my leddie," she said, as Hermione, feeling +suddenly troubled and anxious, followed her in. +What if she denied it? What if, after all, Iza had +been mistaken and it was not Betty who sent the +messages? +</p> + +<p> +"No, it's not for that I have come," was the reply. +"I came to see you, Betty, to—to talk to you." The +two went into the tiny kitchen which smelt strongly +of peat, and was clean and tidy. "I want—" said +Hermione, hesitating, "to tell you something that I +have not told you before. Something that I have +kept a secret—because it hurt me to speak of it." +</p> + +<p> +While she spoke the old woman stood watching +her intently, her deep-set, sunken eyes brightly +expectant, but with never a trace of fear in them. +</p> + +<p> +"Will you no' be seated, my leddie?" she said. +</p> + +<p> +"No, I'd sooner stand, Betty." She took the +plunge. "Listen, did you know that I had been +married twice? But, of course, you did, didn't you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nay. I kenned naething aboot your leddyship's +former life," was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it's about that that I have come to tell +you," went on Hermione, "and to talk about the +Ardens." +</p> + +<p> +"Aye, dearie me." The old hands went up in a +gesture of sorrow. "'Tis a sad tale that. They were +guid folk were the Ardens of Ardenmore." +</p> + +<p> +"You knew that their son was married, didn't you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Aye, to be sure. I heeard tell of a marriage +before he ganged oot to his death. But, 'twas in +London that it happened, and when the family were +awa' in London we heeard naething of them until +they returned. And soon after that word came of +his death, puir laddie." +</p> + +<p> +"Would you like to know the name of his wife?" +asked Hermione. +</p> + +<p> +"Nay, what matter now that he is deid these nine +year. Belike she is married again, as most of the +wummon did when their menfolk were kilt." +</p> + +<p> +"It's true, she did marry again," said Hermione. +"She married a wealthy old man, knowing that she +would inherit his wealth and so be able to buy back +Ardenmore, which was the place that Dominic Arden, +her first husband, loved more than anything else +in the world. And, Betty, listen—she did buy it +back, and it belongs to her, and she is telling you +about it now—Dominic's wife." +</p> + +<p> +With a shrill cry the woman started back, staring +at Hermione as though at a ghost. +</p> + +<p> +"You!" she cried. "You!" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I. I am Dominic Arden's wife, and I love +him just as I loved him when he went out to fight +for his country. And—oh, Betty! I have mourned +his death for nine long years, and now I want him to +come back; so I have come to you to beg you to send +for him. For you know that he is alive, don't you?" And +with that she stretched out her arms to the old +woman in mute appeal. +</p> + +<p> +Betty MacIvor made no movement towards her. +She still stood there staring blankly at the beautiful +woman before her, and ages seemed to pass before +she spoke again. +</p> + +<p> +"Me?" she cried, in a high, shrill voice. "And +is it that you are asking me to send for him? The +laddie who has been deid these nine years? Surely +your leddieship is no' richt—surely—" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Betty! Don't be afraid of me. You can +trust me to keep your secret," cried Hermione. "I'll +never give you away. You have sent messages before, +by carrier pigeon, and you can send them again." +</p> + +<p> +And at that suddenly the old woman tottered backwards +and caught unsteadily at a chair for support. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly Hermione's arm was about her and she +lowered her gently into a chair. +</p> + +<p> +"There. Sit still for a moment. And, above all, +don't be frightened. Your secret is mine, Betty, and +you and I are going to work together." +</p> + +<p> +"The pollis?" gasped the old woman, hoarsely, +and looked fearfully towards the door. "If they are +aboot and hear ye—" +</p> + +<p> +"They are not about. They know nothing. It is +only we at the house who know and we are all your +friends. Tell me, Betty, am I right? Is he alive? +Oh, for God's sake, tell me." +</p> + +<p> +"Aye, he's alive, puir laddie, he's alive," said +Betty, and at that Hermione's reserve gave away +completely. She sank into a chair, and leaning +forward, burst into uncontrollable weeping. +</p> + +<p> +It was the old woman now who put an arm about +her, crooning to her, crying at times herself, talking +incoherently, but with a new tenderness in her voice, +for Hermione, during the short time in which she had +been among them, had made herself well liked by the +people on the estate. +</p> + +<p> +"And I didna' ken that you were his wife. Aye +me, puir laddie, he was ower here the once, juist +before you came, but as the pollis were there I couldna' +get to see him, not to speak to, mind you. I saw him +only from a distance, for he dursn't be seen here. +And when he and his foreign friend had gone, I +found that the pictures and the books in his aul room +were awa' too. So I kenned what had happened and +I held my tongue." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Betty!" cried Hermione, and catching the +gnarled hand she held it fast. "To think that he was +here on the very day I came, and I not to have known +it! To have even heard him go—for I heard their +boat—oh, it was hard indeed," she choked back a +sob. "But go on, please. Tell me everything." +</p> + +<p> +"There is naething much to tell," she replied. "A +year agone, while the aul hoose lay empty, a boat +came one nicht into the bay and a foreign gentleman +came to this cottage and tould me that young +Mr. Dominic was alive and living in France with him, +and that he had come to ask my help in an enterprise +that he and the young master were wishful to do, but +that he couldna' come himself to ask me. The foreigner +was a nice-spoken laddie, with a smile nae doot +and an eye for the lassies, and I took to him and +agreed to help, though nae doot it was against the +law. But there's naething I wouldna' do for my +young master, lawfu' or no. So when danger is aboot +I send a carrier pigeon with a message to a gentleman, +of whose name and address I ken naething. He +brocht the birrds in a machine and left them, and the +foreign gentleman he pays me for my trouble." +</p> + +<p> +Hermione was on her feet now, listening eagerly +to every word the old woman was saying, though +one fact alone was dominant in her mind—the fact +that her husband was alive. Why—why—had he not +come to her—written to her? Was Dick Bessington +right after all? No, she couldn't believe it. +</p> + +<p> +"Did the Frenchman say nothing about him—about +Mr. Arden?" she asked eagerly. "Did he +speak of him? Where he was? If he was well?" +</p> + +<p> +"Aye, he tould me he was well and that he lived +with him at his hoose in France. But he said naething +mair, nor yet of his reason for biding awa' frae +here, except that it was na' safe for him to return." +</p> + +<p> +"But he'll come if you send a message," urged +Hermione. +</p> + +<p> +The old woman shook her head. "I think not," she +said. "His friend, aye, he'll come for sure, and if +you see him you can send a message to your man." +</p> + +<p> +"Where is that friend now, do you know?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nay. I ken naething. But he'll be on this side of +the Channel. For when he returns after his journeying +south with whatever it is that he brings ower +here, the boat is in the bay to meet him, and he signals +with a licht on the top of the tower, and his men +come and fetch him awa'. But I've seen no licht, and +ken weel that his machine was hearrd on the Ardenmore +road going south some few nichts sine. 'Twas +Mistress Mackenzie who tould me, for she's a puir +body that can do naething but sit and watch the +doings of ither folk and crack with her neighbours." +</p> + +<p> +"Do you know where he keeps his car when he +returns?" asked Hermione, but again the other +shook her head. +</p> + +<p> +"'Tis a secret that there's no finding. The young +master, he knew it and tould his friend. I'm thinking +it bides here somewhere in a cave in the rocks." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well." Hermione's voice was decided. +"There's only one thing to be done now, Betty. We +must send a message to this Frenchman and get him +here at once. The police are doing nothing at +present, but later they may again put men on to watch +the tower, so we must act quickly. Are you willing +to send a message, Betty?" +</p> + +<p> +"Aye, that I am, this very evening I'll send a birrd +wi' it, and 'twill be in the papers in twa days and nae +doot but the man will come on the following day. +If you will leave it to me, my leddy, I'll see to it the +noo." +</p> + +<p> +"What will you say?" +</p> + +<p> +"Juist the twa worrds 'All clear'. 'Twill bring +him; and the men on the boat, wherever they be, will +scan the papers daily and see it and be there to tak' +him back to France. Oh aye, 'tis simple eneuch." +</p> + +<p> +So simple indeed, that when, half an hour later, +Frank Daneham and Iza heard of it, they both in +their heart of hearts felt that it was too simple, too +easy. But not for the world would either of them +dream of saying so to the radiant Hermione. Though +the story she had to tell them on her return from the +cottage was the death-knell to Frank Daneham's +hopes—if, that is, he ever had any—he showed nothing +of what he felt, only intense joy at her own happiness +coupled with the personal joy he experienced +in knowing at last that the boy whom he had loved +as a youngster and had mourned as dead, was actually, +and in truth, alive. +</p> + +<p> +"And if he can't come back, at least I can go to +him," she said to Iza Marsh, when they were alone +for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +"Poor child. I only hope nothing will happen to +prevent it," was her silent comment, which was, +after all, merely an echo of Frank's own thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +They had, as a matter of fact, all three omitted +one factor which was of paramount importance, and +this was that those who, with evil intent, resort to +lies and deceptions in order to cover their tracks, +usually count upon those they are seeking to outwit +as doing the same thing themselves. The maxim +which Richard Bessington invariably followed, +namely—that to do evil that good might follow was in +most cases justifiable, was not, however, followed by +those he was trying to outwit. There was no thought +of evil in what they were doing and, in consequence, +they thought no evil of Bessington; believed, in fact, +that he had indeed discovered nothing. +</p> + +<p> +He, on the other hand, with the guilty knowledge +that he had lied to gain his own ends—which he +knew to be evil—judged the others as he judged himself. +He did not, in fact, believe that Iza Marsh had +discovered nothing. In the few moments' conversation +he had had before taking his departure, and in +which she admitted having gone to see Betty and +finding nothing suspicious, his alert mind had jumped to +the conclusion that she was lying, as he himself had +lied. Undoubtedly, she had gone there, but she had +found something. +</p> + +<p> +Therefore, when he drove away down the avenue +and out into the road, instead of bidding the man get +back to the Glen as fast as he could, he bade him +drive slowly until he came to the entrance to the +farm, and there he told him to draw up by the side +of the road and wait for him. Then he walked up +the steep incline to the door of the rambling old +building and knocked. +</p> + +<p> +A large man, wearing muddy boots and with a +pipe in his hand, answered the summons. +</p> + +<p> +"Good evening," said Bessington, in his suavest +manner, "you are Mr.—er Mr.—" +</p> + +<p> +"Mackenzie is my name," was the short reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah yes, to be sure. I have just come from +Ardenmore, and was asked to give a message to a +woman called Betty MacIvor, and I'm not quite sure +where she lives. I was told, but have got wrong in +the direction somehow. If you would be so good as +to tell me I should be exceedingly obliged. I believe +it is somewhere near here where she lives?" +</p> + +<p> +"Aye, to be sure. Betty MacIvor bides in yonder +wee cottage, but half a mile fra' here," was the +reply, and he pointed as he spoke across the moor +towards the sea. "But there's no road for a machine, +only a wee path across the fields fra' here, though +there's a better fra' the Hoose. If you'll walk through +yonder wood and across the burrn, you'll see the +cottage on the brow of the hill, and then 'tis but a +matter of ten minutes' walk." +</p> + +<p> +"Thanks. I'm much obliged to you," replied +Bessington, and returning to the car, he took his +field-glasses, which he had flung on to the seat thinking +they might be useful in his investigations, and telling +the driver once more to wait for him, he started +out upon his walk. +</p> + +<p> +It was rough going and took him longer than he +thought and when, finally, he reached the edge of +the wood and looked across at the other hill where +a tiny cottage appeared in the clear light but a stone's +throw away, it was to see the tall slim figure of +Hermione walking quickly up to the door. +</p> + +<p> +He smiled as he saw her, though in a way it +altered and spoiled all his plans. For he could not +interview the old woman while she had such a visitor +in the house, and if he waited until she had gone, it +might make him late for his return journey. +</p> + +<p> +Wait, however, he would. He could at least spare +half an hour, and so, sitting down on a fallen log, he +took out his glasses and began his self-imposed vigil. +</p> + +<p> +Twenty minutes later Hermione appeared at the +door and walked hurriedly towards her home. At +the same moment he saw the figure of another woman +emerge at the back of the house, go down the garden +to what appeared to be a hen-house, and disappear +behind it. But she was not long out of sight, and +reappeared almost immediately holding something +in her hand. It was not difficult to see through the +powerful lenses that the object was a pigeon. +</p> + +<p> +With the bird in her hand she once more entered +the house, and after a few minutes, during which +Bessington wondered if he should go and see her or +turn back to the car—fearing to be late for dinner at +the Glen—he saw her come out once more, hold the +bird high up in the air, and then, with a toss of her +arm, let it fly. It circled once, twice, thrice, and then +like a shot from a gun was away, flying due south. +</p> + +<p> +"So that's that," observed Bessington, with a grim +smile, as he rose to his feet and hurried back to the +car. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap17"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XVII +<br><br> +A KEEN ALLY +</h2> + +<p> +Richard Bessington was never slow to make up +his mind, but there were occasions on which caution +was necessary, and this was one of them, and it took +him the twenty miles between Ardenmore and the +Glen to arrive at a definite plan of action. Had he +belonged to the crook fraternity, it is very certain +that he would always have "worked" alone, for he +trusted no one, and, moreover, had a very poor opinion +of the capabilities of other people in the matters +which required delicate handling. But very certain it +was that in this instance he could not work alone. +</p> + +<p> +From the moment in which he had heard of the +date written on that scrap of paper, he had realized +the possibility of something of this nature happening, +and which he now found himself up against. Therefore, +in view of the likelihood of help being necessary, +he had taken the trouble to cultivate the friendship +of the only man staying at the Glen who might +be useful. Brains were not a necessity, his own +being, in his opinion, all-sufficient. It was just a matter +of additional man-power—two more hands, possibly +another automatic—in fact, another man on the job, +for single-handed he could do nothing. He had gone +carefully over all the men at the Glen and had +gradually eliminated all save Alec Crosby. His brother +John was out of the question—he was far too concerned +about his position as Laird of the Glen and its +many thousand acres to risk being mixed up in any +such enterprise as Dick Bessington had in view. +Captain Leslie, also, would have fought shy of it, and, +moreover, would undoubtedly have notified the +police of what was afoot—or have advised him to do +so and leave it to them to deal with. And so with +the rest until he came to good-natured, vulgar Alec +Crosby. Instinctively he felt that he could trust +him—as far as it was in his nature to trust anyone—and +the man who worked with him must, of necessity, be +one in whom he could place a modicum of trust. +</p> + +<p> +He had known Alexander Crosby previously. Had +counted him a bore and a fellow who was not in his +own sphere in life. But though he was aware of his +shortcomings, he was equally well up in his good +points, not the least of which was that if he chose he +could hold his tongue when necessary. Also, he was +a man without nerves, and cute up to a certain point; +furthermore, if it came to a matter of physical +violence—which was quite likely—his muscular +development would count for something. But he had one +weakness, and that was a vein of sentiment which +made him too prone to pity the under-dog, whether +he be unlucky or merely deserving of punishment. +And unless he could be made to see that Dominic +Arden was so deserving of punishment and not of pity, +and that in removing him from Hermione's path he +was performing an act of charity towards her and not +one of cruelty, he would be useless as an ally. +Otherwise, Alec Crosby was undoubtedly the man for the +job. The French smuggler, who would soon be on +his way to the tower in response to another +advertisement message, had to be taken, and Bessington +could not do it single-handed. It was obvious, +therefore, seeing that he had actually seen the message +dispatched, that in a matter of three or four days at +the most, this Frenchman would be back. The only +difficulty being that Hermione, knowing that the +message had been sent, would also take steps to +watch for his coming, if not actually for the coming +of Dominic himself, when the matter would then +become extremely complicated. For he wanted to be on +the scene without anyone else being a witness to what +followed. If the worst came to the worst and she +and Daneham made trouble, he could, of course, +threaten to call in the police. But he did not want to +resort to extreme measures for his own sake. He +wanted to do the thing quietly and to have no scene. +Neither did he want to be mixed up in it publicly +himself. All he asked was to get the Frenchman into his +power, and once there he could deal with him and the +rest of the situation. He would, of course, compromise +with him—offer him his liberty on certain +conditions. No man in his position would be fool enough +to refuse, and then—if things were as he guessed they +were—Dominic Arden would not be given the choice +of a return to his wife, nor yet would the doubtful +issue of his punishment at the hands of a leniently +inclined Government be put to the test; that was far +too risky. No. Dominic Arden would simply +disappear—really disappear this time once and for all, +and the way would be clear for himself with regard +to Hermione. For once let her believe that Dominic +had forgotten her, or preferred his liberty and exile +to the risk of punishment—perhaps death—if he +joined her, and she would be his—Bessington's—for +the asking. +</p> + +<p> +But it all wanted carefully thinking out, carefully +arranging. At present he had left her with the idea +that he had temporarily given up the chase, that there +was nothing to discover, and, in fact, that the whole +thing for the moment only was a wash-out. So far +so good. Well, there was nothing for it but to enlist +the services of Crosby, and the first opportunity +he had he would put the matter before him. +</p> + +<p> +He did not, however, get that opportunity until +they retired for the night, and then, instead of going +to his own room, he followed Alec Crosby down the +passage and asked if he might come in for a moment +and have a chat. +</p> + +<p> +"By all means. Come along, old feller. There's a +decent fire here and lots of arm-chairs. You've got +something to spill, I expect?" +</p> + +<p> +"Just so. I want, after I have—ah—spilled the +facts, to ask you if you will help me, as I find that I +can't do the job I want to do single-handed." +</p> + +<p> +"If it's laying the smugglers by the heels, I'm on," +was the reply. "Not that I wouldn't do the same +thing myself if I got the chance, but I suppose it's +high time these fellows were stopped, and, incidentally, +I'd like the fun of the thing. Did you happen +on something when you were over there to-day?" +</p> + +<p> +"I did," was the reply, "and that's what I want to +talk to you about." Whereupon, he proceeded to tell +of his discoveries, omitting only the fact that it was +the Ardenmore people who had got on to the carrier +pigeon idea, and substituting instead a very graphic +account of his own activities in discovering it. +</p> + +<p> +"And," he ended, "they none of them know that +I know," which was true enough, "and I don't want +them to know, for a very particular and good reason +which I must ask you to take on trust." +</p> + +<p> +"Right you are," replied the other genially, "I'm +not the lad to question the bona fides of a man like +Colonel Bessington, not likely. And as far as that +goes, you've done all the spade work, so it's right +you should get the kudos. But tell me, in all this, +does that young feller, Arden, come into it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not that I know of," replied the other. "How +can he? He daren't show his nose in the British +Isles. He's in hiding, and I want to know where. +Once let me get hold of the Frenchman and I'll make +him divulge." +</p> + +<p> +"But that'll be rough on the lady," objected +Crosby, as Bessington knew he would. +</p> + +<p> +"No, it won't. At present she looks upon him in +the light of an ill-used martyr and exile. You and I, +on the other hand, know that he is a criminal eluding +justice. Once let it be proved to her—as it will be, +you'll see—that he prefers to let her imagine he is +dead and break her heart for him rather than risk +anything by letting her know of his whereabouts, and +she will cease to regard him as an ill-used hero. +Women are all alike: attack them, hurt them on their +tenderest spot—their pride—and from angels they +become demons, as you very well know. And, after +all, if it comes to that, what shall I be doing but +proving the truth to her? You have only got to look at +it from a common sense point of view. If the fellow +is alive—and we practically know he must be—why +has he not sent word to her all these years unless +he prefers to remain where he is, away from her? +He must read the papers, he must know that she +married Rodenberg, that she bought Ardenmore and +is living there, and yet, though he has the means of +going there—as we know from the Frenchman's +activities—he does nothing of the sort. He stays +away, and will continue to stay away, until he is +forcibly brought back, and I, perhaps, may be the one to +bring him. Why, the thing is simply obvious." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course, I see that," admitted the other. "That +clock stunt is not a thing that any man would jump +at in a million years, so it proves that Arden is alive, +for he must have told the smuggling Johnnie about +it, probably came over himself to show him, and then +re-set it with the date of his own supposed death. +Yes, I see all that, but—I don't want to do anything +that will hurt her." +</p> + +<p> +"Hurt her?" repeated Bessington, with raised +brows, "But surely if you feel like that, how much +more do I? I would not hurt her for the world. I +want to help, to save her from this mad obsession of +hers, and I will. Come, now. Let's have an +understanding. You come in with me, and if we succeed +in capturing the Frenchman and getting the whereabouts +of Arden out of him, I'll promise you on my +word of honour to do nothing against him—provided +that he is willing to return to his wife and take the +risks it involves. If, on the other hand, he refuses, +then I think you will admit with me that he deserves +all he gets from me. Come. Is that a bargain?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, if you'll agree to that, I'm your man," +replied Alec Crosby. +</p> + +<p> +"Then that's settled," replied the other with a sigh +of relief. "And now, as to ways and means. What +do you advise?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I've been thinking about that carrier pigeon +stunt. It strikes me that if we are to succeed, we +shall have to act pretty quickly," said Crosby. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't see that," was the reply. "The message +has to arrive at its destination, say a big town about +fifty miles or less south. The person who gets the +message inserts it in the dailies. He'll do that +to-morrow, the advertisement will be out next day, the +papers will be read in France on that same afternoon. +The boat starts off at once, and can't get here in less +than forty hours, however fast they go. Say three +nights from now, that is when we should be there on +the watch. +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Crosby, abruptly sitting up in his chair. +"You're wrong there, old feller. I thought you told +me there was no car in the underground room. Don't +that mean that the Frenchy is still in this country? +For all we know he may be waiting at the very place +the message is taken to. Well, all he has to do is to +send a wire to his confederates on the boat to meet +him on the following night, and—there you are. +It's not three nights we have to wait, it's +just to-night, and to-morrow we must be there. See?" +</p> + +<p> +"By Jove! You're right!" exclaimed Bessington. +"I wonder if they'll have thought of that at Ardenmore." +</p> + +<p> +"It's quite likely they haven't, and will be waiting +for the advertisement in the paper and never think +of the Frenchy wiring or phoning to his messmates. +That's where we'll get in front of them. Yes, my son. +You bet your boots that's what'll happen. It's a +blinkin' lucky thing for you that you told yours truly +about it, or you would have been properly in the cart. +Eh what?" +</p> + +<p> +"It's certainly odd I never thought of it," admitted +the other with a frown, and concealing his chagrin +at not having done so as best he could. +</p> + +<p> +"Not a bit of it," was the genial reply. "You'd +got the advertisement stunt fixed in your mind, that +was all. I'm usually rather a dab hand at pouncing +on the obvious, and as I hadn't thought of the +advert part of it, naturally I had a sort of open mind +about it, and was ready to jump at the bright idea. +Our difficulty now will be how to get away to-morrow +without letting the folk here get wise to our game. I +can tell old John, of course, that I'm fed up with his +party and am going south, put up at an hotel in +Locharbie, and wait for you. But how about your +excuse? Will it look odd both of us leaving together +in that hurried manner?" +</p> + +<p> +"No. Fortunately I told your brother the other +day that I might be going to stay at Ardenmore, so I +can easily say that my visit has been hastened, and +then join you as you suggest at your hotel. You've +got your car, so we can go off there any night we +like, and, of course, the Frenchman may not turn up +to-morrow night, after all. In any case, we shall +have to park the car at the edge of the wood so that +it won't be heard at the house, and do the remainder +of the journey to the tower on foot, make an +entrance into the lower room via the river, and there +await our man." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, quite so." Crosby was silent for a moment. +"The only thing about that combination door that I +don't quite tumble to is how the feller gets in from +the other side if—as we know is the fact—the hands +are not placed in position." +</p> + +<p> +"I have thought of that, too," admitted Bessington, +"and I imagine one of the men from the boat +will be there to open the door and let him through." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, but supposing his man or several of his men +are waiting for him in that upper room, we can't +tackle them—desperate armed beggars as they +are—and hope to get away with it," objected Crosby. +</p> + +<p> +"After all, that's only surmise on my part," replied +the other. "Now I come to think of it, it seems +doubtful that the secret of that door is known to +anyone but the Frenchman. He will probably—after +running his car into the lower room, go round the +other way by the river, send up his signal for the boat +and get away without going into the upper room at +all. The secret door, I should say, is only used when a +quick get-away is necessary, or when goods are to be +taken down to the car. So, if we catch him, while I +hold him covered with my revolver, you can go round +—we'll take waders, of course—and set the door for +us to come through. After that, it depends on the +Frenchman as to our next course of procedure." +</p> + +<p> +"Quite. I get you," replied Crosby. "So now you +get to bed, sonny, and sleep the sleep of the just and +righteous and all things will be added unto you. We'll +have that Frenchy right and tight to-morrow night, +and very shortly you'll be able to put the lady wise +as to the real character of her first husband. In any +case I wish you joy over the business, for, 'pon my +soul, I think you deserve it. I've known what it is to +be head over ears myself, and as all's fair in such +cases, I wonder you didn't do something desperate +long ago, and you are content to play the game now +even if it's to your own loss. By gad, sir! I count +myself lucky to be in with you in this stunt. We'll +shake hands on it." +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Richard Bessington winced as the other's +plump but honest fist grasped his own. For at least +the hand he held was clean, whereas his own was +not, and he knew it. But a moment later he salved +his conscience by repeating the other's words. +</p> + +<p> +"After all," he said, as he turned at the door, "as +you very truly said—'All's fair in love'." +</p> + +<p> +And in his bedroom he wrote a short note to +Inspector Mackay which was delivered by hand next +day, and the note ran as follows: +</p> + +<p> +Nothing doing so far, but in a few days, with +luck, I hope to be able to tell you something. +If you don't hear from me you will know that +your Headquarters are right and we are wrong. +</p> + +<p> +Bessington. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap18"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XVIII +<br><br> +THE COMING OF ANTOINE DUBOSC +</h2> + +<p> +"This reminds me of the good old days of my +boyhood," said Alec Crosby with a chuckle, as he and +his companion skimmed over the road to Ardenmore +in his car on the following evening. +</p> + +<p> +But Richard Bessington had no smile in return +and was grimly irresponsive to his friend's good +humour. The fact was that his conscience troubled +him, though he would not have admitted it either to +himself or to anyone else, and, furthermore, he was +over-anxious that things should go well and not +miscarry, and anxiety of mind invariably had the effect +of putting him into a bad temper. +</p> + +<p> +"It's no laughing matter," he said. "Not if anything +goes wrong. I am up against Inspector Mackay +for fooling him and taking over his job—if he gets +to hear of it." +</p> + +<p> +"How can he?" was the retort. "The only thing +we have to fear is that the Ardenmore people—some +of 'em—may also be on the watch to-night. Though +I think that's not at all likely. I expect they are +sitting down waiting for that advert. to appear in the +dailies, and until it does they are not going to lose a +night's rest in fooling about watching for someone +who is not likely to turn up. So don't get scared, +man. You'll see it'll all turn out all right." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not scared," was the reply, "only worried." +</p> + +<p> +"Which is more or less the same thing, and gets +you as far, anyway. What puzzles me a bit is what +exactly is going to come of your interview—plus +revolver—with the Frenchy." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm satisfied to leave that on the knees of the +gods. Once get him in our hands and I've no doubt +that he'll tell us all we want to know." +</p> + +<p> +"In return for his liberty?" +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly." +</p> + +<p> +"And then, I suppose, he's free to go back to his +own country, give his friend Arden the tip, and when +you land up there, you'll find the bird flown." +</p> + +<p> +"Ye—es," replied the other in a slow drawl. +"That's quite possible. One has to risk something." +</p> + +<p> +"If the fellow's a sport he'll never give his friend +away," said Crosby. +</p> + +<p> +"There's no such thing as honour among thieves," +was the dry reply. "So don't worry about that. It's +an exploded theory." +</p> + +<p> +"I wouldn't bank too much on that, my lad," said +his friend. "I'd simply hate to have dealings with a +feller who gave a pal away." +</p> + +<p> +"One has to swallow one's better feelings in a case +of this sort," observed Bessington, hoping that this +squeamish fool was not in the end going to give +trouble. "After all, it is in a good cause." +</p> + +<p> +The other did not answer, and after that silence +reigned for some time, while the worthy car ate up +the miles and finally was brought to a standstill at +the edge of the pine forest, which stretched in an +unbroken line for a mile and a half past the house +and up to the old tower by the sea. +</p> + +<p> +The moon was bright and showed the two adventurers +the best place for parking, namely, behind a +huge boulder, and well out of sight of any chance +passerby—a not very likely one—on the road. When +this was done, both men, with waders over their +arms, an electric torch apiece in one pocket, and a +serviceable weapon in another, struck into the wood +and made their difficult way to the entrance of the +tunnel. It was ten o'clock when they set off, and +their watches pointed to a quarter-to-eleven when, +finally, they arrived, tired, anxious, and one at least +in not too good a temper. +</p> + +<p> +At the brink of the river, whose waters looked +black and far from inviting in the dim light, they +stopped. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm going round to investigate," said Bessington, +as he flung the waders on the ground. "We +don't want to be caught napping, but if all's well I'll +return at once and we'll go right into the +underground room." +</p> + +<p> +"Why not both go round and through the clock +door?" suggested his companion, who did not like the +look of the fast-running water. +</p> + +<p> +"Because, though there may be no one here now, +there may be later, and a glance at the clock set to +that date would give us and the show away." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, I see. That's true. Well, so long. Come back +as soon as you can. It will be devilish dismal here by +myself." +</p> + +<p> +"It'll be worse in the underground room," replied +Bessington, and with that reassuring prophecy he +went on his way. +</p> + +<p> +Twice he paused, his heart beating uncomfortably, +as he heard a twig snap, and thought it was another +prowler like himself. But, as no further sound +occurred, he guessed it must be a rabbit, or a marauding +cat in search of prey, and continued his way until +the tower door was reached. Here he placed an ear to +the keyhole and listened, but all was silent within. +Away at sea there was no sign of a boat or vessel of +any kind, and he wondered if, after all, his friend +had been too sanguine in expecting the smugglers to +turn up that night. +</p> + +<p> +In any case they could but wait and, if nothing +happened, return again on the following night. Then +he pushed open the door and went inside. +</p> + +<p> +A quick glance round showed that the room was +empty, and he turned his eyes to the clock. He saw +at once that the hands had been moved, and that the +four hands denoting the year, and which he had +replaced one on top of the other as he had found them, +had been separated and were now apart, one pointing +to 100, another to 50, the third 25 and the fourth +75, thus forming a cross. Someone, then, had +evidently been trying to discover the use of the clock +and had failed to do so. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly an idea occurred to him; he pulled out +a note-book and jotted down the day, month, and +other figures which were now marked by the hands. +It would be easy to re-set the clock on the other side +according to the diagram and so avoid having to go +round to set the hands to the original date. Then he +retraced his steps, took one more look at the sea, and +at length rejoined his companion. +</p> + +<p> +"Deuce take you, Bessington," growled Crosby. +"What a hell of a time you've been." +</p> + +<p> +"I have re-set the clock so that we can get through +as soon as I copy it on our side," was the reply. "Now +for our waders." +</p> + +<p> +"That's a brainy idea and will save me another +swim," agreed Crosby, his good humour instantly +returning. +</p> + +<p> +The two waded through the river, Bessington, who +was tall, having to bend his head in order to avoid +contact with the roughly-hewn roof overhead, the +swift current bearing them along with it. Bessington, +in advance, had his torch going, and very soon found +the opening into the second tunnel. A moment later +they had climbed the rather steep incline and were +standing high and dry in the dark passage and +divesting themselves of their waders. +</p> + +<p> +"I never saw anything so blinkin' ingenious in all +my born days," commented Crosby. "The feller who +thought this out deserved to get away with his job. +Not one in a million would ever think of a passage +through a river. Crooks had brains a hundred years +ago as well as now." +</p> + +<p> +"Let's get on to the cave," said Bessington, hurriedly. +"I only hope the fellow hasn't come and gone +and that we are too late for him." +</p> + +<p> +"If he has we shall know by his car, which will be +comfortably parked in the cave," was the reassuring +reply. +</p> + +<p> +But there was no car there and the two men +proceeded to examine the place carefully with the aid +of their strong electric torches. +</p> + +<p> +"Hold quite a lot of wine and spirits in the good +old days, eh what?" said Crosby with a laugh. "I +expect they rolled the barrels to the mouth of the +cave, and then floated them in the river to where a +hay-cart or something equally innocent-looking was +waiting. My! What wouldn't they have given for +cars in those days. However, I expect they get better +dibs out of the ladies' underwear now, and far +less bulky to negotiate. I say, Bessington, old pard, +I'd give a good deal for a smoke." +</p> + +<p> +"Not on your life, man. The fellow would notice +it directly he entered the tunnel and turn tail. I'm +afraid you will have to abstain for a bit. Also, I +think it's wise to turn out our lights, the tunnel is +fairly straight, and we may exhaust the batteries +uselessly. I wish there was any possibility of seeing +through into that upper room. If anyone came in +there no sound would penetrate down here." +</p> + +<p> +"How do you know there isn't a spy-hole?" suggested +the other. "There's the picture of a moon, +didn't you say? Well, it must be for some purpose +beside an ornament. Do you remember if it was at +full or half or what?" +</p> + +<p> +"First quarter, I think, but I didn't take much +notice." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, why not have a try?" As he spoke he +climbed the steep stone steps roughly cut out of the +rock, and, standing on the topmost one, began to +examine the reverse side of the clock. The moon was +at the full, and gently moving the disc he turned it to +the first quarter. Nothing resulted. Then he tried +the last quarter and instantly a shaft of air blew into +his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"Got it," he said. "But it's so infernal dark in +there that I can see nothing. However, it's a spy-hole +right enough, and at any rate we can hear if anyone +is there, even if we can't see." And with that he +closed the moon disc and descended once more to his +companion. +</p> + +<p> +For half an hour they waited, alternately pacing to +and fro, and sitting down on two old barrels, which +appeared to be the relics of a former generation of +smuggling enterprise. +</p> + +<p> +"Waiting is a damned tedious job," observed +Crosby, who was getting tired of his companion's +persistent silence. "And waiting in the blinkin' dark +is depressing as well as tedious. I wish the feller'd +come, get it over quietly, and allow me to return to +my downy and a stiff nightcap." +</p> + +<p> +"If he comes at all, it will be soon," was the reply. +And hardly were the words out of his mouth, than a +shaft of bright white light pierced the darkness and +sent them both staggering back into a corner of the +cave out of its searching rays. +</p> + +<p> +They had not calculated on this. Bessington had +expected the motorist to come in without lights, +forgetting that he would feel so secure in his hiding-place +that he would see no necessity to turn them off. +</p> + +<p> +Soon the purr of the engine came to the waiting +men's ears. +</p> + +<p> +"Quick! Behind the barrels!" whispered Bessington, +and they both sprang for shelter behind their +former makeshift chairs. +</p> + +<p> +Then into the chamber there loomed a long low +shape whose two bright headlights looked like the +glaring eyes of some hideous monster, and the +driver of which was in shadow. +</p> + +<p> +Presently the car stopped and there was a movement +from inside, and at that moment Bessington +touched his companion's arm. +</p> + +<p> +"Now!" he whispered. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly two flashlights were turned on to the figure +getting out of the car, and two automatics levelled. +</p> + +<p> +"Hands up!" called Bessington, sharply. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>'Cre Nom!</i>" exclaimed a startled voice, and the +man in the car flung up his hands and stared at his +two assailants. +</p> + +<p> +"Turn out those headlights, Crosby," rapped out +Bessington. "And don't move, you, or you'll drop." +</p> + +<p> +There came a sudden laugh from the man in the +car, as Crosby crossed to the switches and fumbled. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, I see! You prefer to work in the dark, is it +not. It is that one on your left, monsieur. <i>Voila</i>. +That is better?" he added as the lights went out. +</p> + +<p> +And now the two men—no longer blinded by them—saw +a tall, slim young man arrayed in a leather +coat and helmet, with a good-looking, pleasant face +and bright twinkling humorous eyes. He spoke with +a slight accent and at the moment, he was smiling +broadly. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Alors, messieurs</i>. It seems that you are here +first," he said. "Which is greatly to your credit, for +I thought my stronghold was impossible of detection. +It shows how one may be mistaken. So, then, what +is our next move?" +</p> + +<p> +"Get out of the car first," ordered Bessington, and +with careless ease the young man obeyed. +</p> + +<p> +"And just remember, Mr. Frenchy," here put in +Crosby, "that my pal there is the finest revolver shot +in Europe, so no tricks, mark you." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! Is that so indeed? Permit that I felicitate +your pal, monsieur. And for me, it is an honour to +be held up by so great an expert, almost as great an +honour as to be shot by him, <i>parbleu</i>!" Here he +laughed. "An honour which, for the moment, I forgo. +And in the meantime I suggest, messieurs, that +you—in your own vernacular—get on with it, +whatever it is for, already my arms proceed to ache." +</p> + +<p> +"Here, stow the chatter and let's get to business," +struck in Crosby, who did not like the tone nor the +manner of their prisoner. "You're in a very nasty +predicament, young feller me lad, and don't you +forget it." +</p> + +<p> +"All right, Crosby, I'm bossing this show," said +Bessington, sharply. "Are you armed?" he asked of +the young man. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Ma foi</i>, but yes, M'sieur le Boss," was the reply. +"Like you, I carry an automatic, and to save you some +trouble and myself the annoyance of being searched, +which to a gentleman is an abomination, I will tell +you that it rests in the right-hand pocket of this +coat." +</p> + +<p> +Bessington strode over to the Frenchman and took +the weapon from the pocket indicated. "Have you +any other arms about you?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Monsieur, I am not an arsenal, I have no more." +</p> + +<p> +"Take that coat off and let me search you," commanded +Bessington abruptly, as he dropped the small +automatic into his own pocket. The young man +scowled for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +"It is an insult to my honour, monsieur," he said. +"But seeing that you are English and possibly do not +know the meaning of that word, I will obey." +</p> + +<p> +The jibe was well flung. Bessington flushed crimson. +</p> + +<p> +"All right," he said: "I'll take your word for it +that you have no other weapon." +</p> + +<p> +"I thank you, monsieur. I have no other, only a +pocket-knife which I surrender," and so saying he +thrust his hand inside his coat and drew out a small +knife, which he handed with a smile to Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +"And now, messieurs, will you have the goodness +to inform me as to whom I have the honour of speaking. +Is it to the police, the Secret Service, the Customs +officials, or merely two enterprising gentlemen +out for, what you call, a lark?" +</p> + +<p> +"It doesn't matter who we are," replied Bessington, +curtly. "We happen to know that you are engaged +in smuggling contraband over to this country, +and having got wise as to when you were likely to be +here again, we waited for you." +</p> + +<p> +"I see. Then I must deduce for myself." He +smiled at them in a friendly manner which Bessington +found extremely exasperating in one who should +have been grovelling with fright. "You have not, +<i>enfin</i>, the brazen effrontery of the police, nor yet the +finesse of the Secret Service, and neither have you the +vulgar brutality of the Customs. Therefore I +suppose that you are gentlemen of independent means +and actions, and as such, I presume there is some +hope for me. It is true that I smuggle, it is equally +true that I am caught. But since you knew of my +activities, pardon me if I ask why you have not given +word to your police?" +</p> + +<p> +"That's our blinkin' business," struck in Crosby, +who did not like the debonair manner of this young +man any more than did his companion. A fellow in +his precarious position, to his mind, should have been +subservient and meek. He should have realized that +he was at their mercy, a thing of no account, and his +conversation should have been in keeping with his +position. Not this light-hearted jocular tone, this +air of being top-dog in a situation where in reality +he was under-dog. And usually Alexander Crosby +had sympathy for the under-dog, only they should +realize their position as such, and then the sympathy +would be deserved. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! Pardon!" said the cheery captive. "I forget +that, of course, it is your blinkin' business. But, all +the same, I have the honour to be intrigued. It is +not usual for the English gentleman—you call him +so, <i>n'est ce pas</i>? He still exist? <i>Ma foi</i>, but of +course he does, for one finds him occasionally while +raking among the debris of the modern world—a +specimen here, and again there. Not yet extinct like +the prehistoric monsters, but soon, no doubt soon, to +become so. <i>Eh bien</i>, where was I? <i>Ah la</i>! I wonder, +<i>enfin</i>, it is not usual for the English gentleman +to do the dirty work of their police, eh? You have +a reason, is it not so?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly, it is so," replied Bessington, who was +liking his prisoner's tone less and less. It put him in +a false position, made him feel that—as was the +fact—he had no right to be there and had usurped the +place of the lawful authorities. He would have, +therefore, to make the position clear, and this was +not at all to his taste. +</p> + +<p> +"It is quite true that we are here for a definite +reason," he said. "Had the police been here instead +of us, you would simply have been marched off and +charged with the offence, there would have been no +two ways about it. As it is—" +</p> + +<p> +"As it is, we are to effect a compromise, M'sieur le +Boss, <i>he</i>?" The captive grinned most engagingly, +but Colonel Bessington was not one to be influenced +by any grin, engaging or otherwise. +</p> + +<p> +"Compromise is hardly the right term," he said. +"At least, not for one in your position to make use +of." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah-h, I get you, I arrive!" exclaimed the young +man. "The poor prisoner who is at the mercy of one +who has the distinction of being the best shot with +the automatic in Europe, or, in effect, as the +Americans say, the expert gunman, is hardly in a position +to compromise. It is then, shall we say, on condition +that he agrees to a proposal of monsieur, eh?" +</p> + +<p> +"That's more like it, my lad," said Crosby. +</p> + +<p> +"I understand." The young Frenchman bowed. +"It is then that you have a reason other than a +serving your country that you are here to meet me. In +the plain English, for example, of the plain John +Bull, you want something of me. I, in return, also +want something of you. My liberty, <i>bien entendu</i>, of +which at the moment I am deprived. Perhaps then, +we can arrive at something between us, and no bones +broken, is it not?" He beamed upon them. +Undoubtedly he was the happiest of the three of them, +the most at his ease. +</p> + +<p> +Bessington scowled, conscious of being in that false +position. "Something of that sort," he admitted. +</p> + +<p> +"I take it then, messieurs," went on the amiable +young man, "that you two gentlemen, in arriving at +a satisfactory arrangement between us, will +undoubtedly—in the language of your law—be accessories +after the fact. <i>Bien</i>. Therefore we shall all be in +the—what you call same boat, together. We are, in +fact, comrades, is it not? Let us then commence on +friendly terms, I to do the honours, Messieurs, my +comrades, permit me to offer you the cigarette, for +there can surely be no fire without the smoke. <i>La, la</i>! +That is a good joke, and I make you a present of it." He +held out a gold cigarette-case as he spoke. "You +have also the word of a gentleman smuggler that they +are not drugged. Permit me." +</p> + +<p> +Crosby grinned uncertainly and hesitated. +"French make?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Ah mon Dieu</i>! <i>Mais non</i>! Your cooking may be +execrable, monsieur, but your tobacco is not to be +surpassed. Sullivan and Powell, messieurs, Hanover +Square, and made specially for a sensitive palate." +</p> + +<p> +"Thankee," said Crosby. "I don't mind if I do." And +he helped himself. Bessington refused, uncompromisingly. +</p> + +<p> +"You permit all the same, M'sieur le Boss, that I +smoke myself?" asked the amiable prisoner. "I +realize, as you see, my position," he added with a grin, +and at a curt nod from the other he lit his cigarette +from Crosby's match. "A thousand thanks, monsieur, +and now, in all humility, and with due respect +to one who holds the gun, I suggest that we get +down to bed-rock." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap19"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XIX +<br><br> +A VERY TREACHEROUS VILLAIN +</h2> + +<p> +A stranger entering the cave-like room at that +moment and seeing the three men standing there, the +one smiling, debonair, the other two grimly frowning, +might have mistaken the first for the captor and +the others for his scowling captives, and not, as it +was in fact, the other way about. It would have been +indeed difficult to connect the happy-looking young +man with his position as captured criminal, uncertain +as to his fate, liable to condign punishment. +</p> + +<p> +One reason for the marked contrast in the demeanour +of captive and captors was the fact that the former, +though he also had just come in from a fast +drive in the cold air, into the almost colder atmosphere +of a damp cave, was clad in a fur-lined leather +coat, and was, in consequence, feeling comparatively +warm and comfortable; whereas, the other two, +seated there for over half an hour in ordinary overcoats, +were chilled to the bone. That alone was sufficient +to make them gloomy and unhappy; the other +factor was the uncertainty of the result of this +interview and the fear of interruption from the +inmates of Ardenmore House. +</p> + +<p> +Crosby, less able to restrain his feelings than his +companion, was the first to give vent to them. +</p> + +<p> +"Look here," he said. "Can't we, as this fellow +says, get down to bed-rock and finish the business +before it finishes us. I'm stone cold in this damned +cellar, and we don't want to waste time, neither." +</p> + +<p> +"It would be warmer, messieurs, in the upper +room," suggested the captive, with a wave of the +hand towards the steps. "May I suggest—" +</p> + +<p> +"You have done quite enough suggesting, thanks," +snapped Bessington. "Remember that I'm in command +of this situation, not you. I have no intention +of going into the upper room, as we might be seen by +some of your men who may be on the prowl—no +doubt much to be desired by you, but not by us—We'll +get through our business where we are. I suppose, +by the way, that it's useless to expect you to +give your name?" +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Mais oui</i>, but why not? I am not ashamed of +my name. Antoine Dubosc it is. Allow me to present +my card," and taking a leather case from his breast +pocket, he extracted a card and held it out to +Bessington, who took it, glanced at the name and looked +up. +</p> + +<p> +"And your address, Monsieur Dubosc?" +</p> + +<p> +The other shook his head. "I think not, monsieur, +with all due respect. At least, not at present. It is, +of course, somewhere in France. Unless, <i>par exemple</i>, +you propose to alter it for me to the address of +one of your gaols, which I sincerely hope is not the +case." +</p> + +<p> +"That will depend entirely on yourself," replied +Bessington. "Hand over that leather case of yours, +I'll have a look at it." +</p> + +<p> +The young man flushed angrily at the tone, and for +a moment appeared as though he were going to +refuse. But a glance at the steady hand holding the +automatic, which was pointing uncomfortably at his +middle, decided him otherwise. +</p> + +<p> +"There is nothing in that, monsieur, but my private +papers. I ask as a favour that you leave it." +</p> + +<p> +"Hand it over," snapped Bessington, and Dubosc +obeyed, with a muttered oath and an evil look in his +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +The elder man glanced through the papers it +contained and found nothing but some old letters in a +woman's handwriting, but without the address for +which he was looking. He did not read them and +neither did he but more than glance at a +photograph—also of a woman. Then he handed it back. +</p> + +<p> +"This is of no use to me," he said, "but in any case +I may say that I know several things about you +already. I know, for instance, that you receive +messages from a woman here named Betty MacIvor by +carrier pigeon. That you were here some nights ago +landing a cargo of silken goods which you took away +in a car—this car here—having previously set upon, +tied up, and drugged a friend of mine who came here +by accident that night." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Ah, milles pardons, monsieur</i>," exclaimed the +Frenchman who appeared to have recovered his good +temper once more. "Was he, then, a friend of yours? +That was indeed unfortunate, but what I did to him, +I fear was unhappily unavoidable. I trust that the +gentleman recovered from the effects of the drug, +which I assure you, monsieur, was of the most harmless." +</p> + +<p> +"He did, luckily for you. And he told me his +experiences that night, and from certain information he +gave me I gathered that you were in league with +another man whose name I know well, and who was +supposed to have been killed in the War in '17. In +short, I refer to one, Dominic Arden, former owner +of this place and now living somewhere—so I gather—in +France. Be good enough to tell me if this is +so or not." +</p> + +<p> +The Frenchman looked sharply at his questioner, +and Crosby, watching him keenly, became suddenly +aware of the fact that he himself had been relegated +to the position of an onlooker—that his friend +Bessington was taking matters with a very high hand—and +that there might be the possibility of an ulterior +motive in all this. He found himself curiously +hoping that Dominic Arden <i>had</i> been killed, and that +this young man knew nothing about him, or that, if +he did know him, he would deny all knowledge of +him. He waited eagerly for the reply and noted the +ugly glitter in the Frenchman's eyes as he looked at +Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +"Come, come, M'sieur le Boss," exclaimed +Dubosc. "What is this you ask me? Do I know +someone named Dominic Arden? Be good enough to +explain, if you please." +</p> + +<p> +"That is quite unnecessary," snapped the other. +"There is only one man who knew the secret of this +tower—young Arden—and you must have learnt it +from him. It's of no use attempting to fool me, so +I advise you not to try. Also, it will be the worse +for you. Come, Monsieur Dubosc, I'll be frank with +you, tell me what you know about this man and I will +see what I can do about letting you go. Deny all +knowledge of him and you go with me to Locharbie +police station." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, I see." A smile crossed the Frenchman's face, +an ugly smile—so Crosby thought, who watched him +keenly. "You ask for information which I am to +give you—if I have it, <i>bien entendu</i>—on a condition. +If I have it not, or give it not—which is the same +thing—you take me off to gaol?" +</p> + +<p> +"That is the position," replied Bessington. "You +had better decide quickly what you intend to do. Be +sure that I know exactly what I shall do." +</p> + +<p> +Dubosc was silent for an instant, looked at the two +revolvers steadily pointing towards him, and shrugged. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Enfin</i>," he said, "you have me, messieurs, in a +cleft stick. I have no desire to become an inmate of +your hospitals, and still less a desire to see the inside +of your gaols. If I tell you what I know, you permit +that I go back to France? This is a bargain, is +it not? You give me your word—I as a gentleman +trust you. I give you my information—you as +another gentleman may believe me. How about it?" +</p> + +<p> +Crosby, at these words, felt a queer sense of +disappointment. The young man whom he had at first +thought rather a nice fellow—in spite of his +calling—was, in fact, no better than any other criminal of +his class; a mean, cowardly skunk, where his own +personal liberty was concerned. He did know young +Arden, then, and he was going to betray him to save +his own skin. Crosby also began to dislike Bessington's +part in the proceedings—the fact that he was +making it possible for Dubosc to play this low-down +game. Of course, nothing might come of it, and +yet it looked as though there could be but one +ending to it, and he began to wish most heartily that +he had never had anything to do with it at all. +</p> + +<p> +"That is the bargain, Monsieur Dubosc," replied +Bessington, calmly. +</p> + +<p> +"Very well, monsieur, then now I answer your +question. I do know this man of whom you speak. +He is my very best friend and we have been what +you call pals ever since we met in a German prison +camp in '17. When over a year later, we were +released—that is, what was left of us—I took him, a +semi-invalid through ill-treatment and starvation, to +my poor home, such as it was. This monsieur, because +he was too ill to be sent back to his own country. +And when, a year later, he recovered, or at least +was in better health, <i>enfin</i>, he begged me to let him +stay, and I—I had not the heart nor yet the desire to +do otherwise. For there was a reason which prevented +him returning to his own country, though he has +not informed me of the exact nature of that reason. +There, monsieur, you have the little nutshell of +facts." +</p> + +<p> +"By gad!" ejaculated Crosby. "Poor beggar!" +and in his eyes there was a look of utter disgust as +he regarded the Frenchman. +</p> + +<p> +"He was, as you say, monsieur, a poor beggar. But +he is a rich one now, for he is a writer of distinction, +both in his own language and mine. And as for +me—" here he shrugged—"I am, what God made me, a +crook, I believe you call it, but a clever one. <i>Mon +Dieu</i>! I have coin money, and now I live in a large +Chateau on the coast, and I engage in smuggling. I +purchased a motor-boat and—I tell you, things march +for me, thanks be to the good God," and here he +burst into a most infectious laugh, in which Crosby +joined in spite of himself. But Bessington's face was +grim. +</p> + +<p> +"And this man, Arden, is he also in your smuggling +enterprise?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! <i>Mais non</i>. I should say no. He does not +even know what I do. One day he told me of this +old tower and of the secret of the clock, and he came +over and helped to show me how it worked, that was +over a year ago. But he came again just lately, for +hearing that his old home was to be sold once more +he wished to become possessed of some pictures and +books, and so I, who am clever at these things—you +understand—I obtained them for him. Not, I ask +you to believe, by ringing at the front-door bell and +asking for them. <i>Non, mon brave</i>! I took them, as +I prefer to take everything else where possible—without +asking and without paying," and once more +he broke into irresistible laughter in which this time +Crosby did not join. +</p> + +<p> +"And now, perhaps," went on Dubosc, lighting +another cigarette from the stub of the old one, "since +I have been so obliging as to tell you all this, you will +enlighten me as to the reason for which you desire to +find my friend. I have not heard him speak of knowing +anyone in England. His parents, also, are dead, +I believe." +</p> + +<p> +"Quite true," said Bessington. "And his wife is +living alone, waiting for him to return, which he +dare not do seeing that, did he land in this country, +he would be taken and hanged for murder. That, +Monsieur Dubosc, is why your friend remains in your +country, and why he says nothing to you of his past +life." +</p> + +<p> +For a moment there was complete silence in the +gloomy vault while the young Frenchman looked at +Bessington, first with a curious smile on his face and +then with a sudden frown. +</p> + +<p> +"And so, monsieur, it is for this that you wish to +find him, that you may drag him back to a felon's +death. For this that you offer me my liberty. My +God! But it would be dearly bought at such a price. +And yet—" here once more he smiled—"tell me, +monsieur, you have witnesses of this crime—murder, +I suppose, if he is to hang. You can prove what +you say?" +</p> + +<p> +"The man whom you drugged that night is one of +the witnesses. Two soldiers who overheard his +words, admitting that he meant to kill his victim, are +only waiting to be called." +</p> + +<p> +"I see. And you say he has a wife?" +</p> + +<p> +"Who believed him dead until a short time ago, +when, having bought this place and come here to +live, she is shown a bit of paper which you dropped, +Monsieur Dubosc, and on which was written the date +on which Dominic Arden went out to his death. Then +she began to wonder." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah yes. That was a bad blunder, and it seems I +am to pay for it. But his wife, she loves him, I +presume, monsieur?" +</p> + +<p> +"She thinks so, but she will cease to love a man +whom she knows fears to come to her in case he +should be taken and punished for his crime." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, again I see. And in all this—pardon me for +the question—where do you come in, monsieur?" +</p> + +<p> +"The man he murdered was my greatest friend, +but that does not come into it. I want to know if +he still cares for his wife, if he is ready to risk his +life to go to her." +</p> + +<p> +"I see, again. You are not out for blood, monsieur. +And the wife, she wishes this? She perhaps +would like to be free, to marry again?" +</p> + +<p> +"She would like to be certain that he no longer +cares for her, any woman would." +</p> + +<p> +"That is so, monsieur, any woman would. Well, +as I understand it, though you, monsieur, are not out +for blood, it amounts almost to the same thing, did +my friend return. It therefore remains, that in +return for my liberty, I am to hand over my friend to +justice." +</p> + +<p> +"More or less, that is the situation, though the +choice will rest entirely with Arden," replied +Bessington. "In any case, I am but doing my duty." +</p> + +<p> +"And it is the only condition on which you will +give me my liberty, monsieur, that I tell you where to +find my friend?" The Frenchman's lips quivered a +little as he spoke, and a look of abject fear, the fear +of a trapped animal, came to his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Crosby found himself hoping that he would refuse, +that he would prefer gaol to the betrayal of a +friend. But even as he hoped he felt it was useless. +</p> + +<p> +"Absolutely the only condition," said Bessington, +uncompromisingly. +</p> + +<p> +"You are hard, monsieur. My liberty is everything +to me. Is there nothing else that—" +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing," snapped the other. "Agree to this +or—you know the alternative. I have nothing more +to say. Except that I will give you two minutes in +which to make your choice." +</p> + +<p> +He glanced at his wrist-watch. +</p> + +<p> +But at this Alec Crosby broke in. +</p> + +<p> +"Here, I say," he said. "That's too much of a good +thing, Bessington. You can't force a chap to betray +a pal—to earn his liberty at such a price. Come now, +it's not playing the game. Dammit, it's not British." +</p> + +<p> +"I agree, monsieur, it is not," replied Dubosc, +dryly. "It is rather—very French, eh? <i>tout ce qu'il +y a de plus francais</i>. Because, as it happens, I agree, +M'sieur le Boss, to your terms. I agree because my +liberty is of so much value to me that I regard it +more even than my honor." +</p> + +<p> +"What?" exclaimed Crosby aghast. "You agree +to sell a pal? To—to—to—Gosh! You make me +sick." +</p> + +<p> +"Shut up, Crosby, this is my affair. You are only +in this to help me, not to put your oar in," said +Bessington. "Then you agree?" he went on, turning to +the Frenchman, who spread out his hands in an +eloquent shrug. +</p> + +<p> +"What choice have I, monsieur?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Tcha!" Crosby turned away and stared into the +darkness, too disgusted for further words. +</p> + +<p> +"Very good," said Bessington. "It is agreed then, +that I am to see him? To ask him if he wishes to +return to his wife and, if not, to conduct him myself +back to England. Those are the terms, I think?" +</p> + +<p> +"It is the choice of the devil or the deep sea, +monsieur," replied Dubosc, with a shrug. "But since I +cannot help myself, I agree." +</p> + +<p> +"How, then, is it to be arrived at?" asked Bessington. +"Where is he?" +</p> + +<p> +"He is at my Chateau," was the reply. "And since +he refuses to come to England—" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, he does refuse then?" snapped Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +"Of a surety yes, <i>ma foi</i>! And I think, too, that +he has good reason, M'sieur le Boss." +</p> + +<p> +"You hear that, Crosby?" The colonel looked at +his friend, who turned and nodded. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I hear," he replied. "And I wish to God I +didn't." +</p> + +<p> +"Nonsense, man! you remember what I said to +you about that?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, yes, and I wish I hadn't listened." Bessington +smiled at him, shrugged, and turned to the +Frenchman. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Monsieur Dubosc. Since he refuses, what then?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, it is simplicity itself, monsieur. You will +therefore have to go to him. Another case of +Mahomet and the mountain." The Frenchman smiled +once more. "You wish to see him to ask—so I +understand—-if he intends to return to his wife. And if +he refuses it is then for you to act, and he falls into +the hands of the British Law. If he agrees, <i>ma foi</i>, +he risks doing the same thing. It is very much tails +I win, heads you lose, for my poor friend, is it not? +And yet I have no choice but to agree. I will therefore +ask you, M'sieur le Boss, to accompany me back +in my boat to my home, and there I will present you +to my friend." +</p> + +<p> +A queer smile crossed his face as he finished speaking +and for a moment there was an ugly glint in his +eyes as he regarded the man who had him in his +power, and was able to force the issue. +</p> + +<p> +Bessington, quick-eyed, alert, saw it. Crosby was +too disgusted to see anything. He had not realized, +when he had undertaken to help Bessington, that the +only means of arriving at a satisfactory conclusion +concerning young Arden was by the betrayal of one +friend of another for the paltry sake of his liberty. +Also, he was beginning to distrust Bessington. Had +he, too, shown any disgust, it would have proved at +any rate that his motives were genuine and honourable. +But it looked to Crosby as though it was a +case of any means, fair or foul, in order to get hold +of Dominic Arden. He wished himself heartily out +of the business, and cursed himself for a fool for +ever having gone into it. But at the moment he could +do nothing. +</p> + +<p> +"Isn't it asking rather a lot from me to trust +myself alone on your boat, Monsieur Dubosc?" asked +Bessington, quietly. "Better give me your address +and I'll go there myself and see him." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Ma foi</i>! Yes, to be sure!" the other laughed. +"And when you arrive you find that my friend has +departed in my motor-boat which arrives there first. +A state of affairs that would not be very pleasing to +you, I think, or to me either, since you would but +hand me over to my own police." +</p> + +<p> +For the first time Bessington smiled. "You +underrate my intelligence, Monsieur Dubosc," he said. +"I need hardly tell you that at a word from me to a +friend in the Secret Service your Chateau would be +placed under observation and no one would be +allowed to leave until my arrival, when you would +instantly be arrested on a charge of smuggling, and +your friend on the charge of murder, without even +the option of returning to his wife. That only if you +broke your contract with me in the way you suggest. +On the other hand, if I go with you, what guarantee +have I that I arrive at your Chateau at all?" +</p> + +<p> +The young man flung up his head in a shout of +laughter. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, but you are droll, you English. You cannot +see when one pulls your legs. It is all taken <i>au grand +serieux</i>. Have no fear, M'sieur le Boss, I break no +contract. You give me my liberty, I take you to my +friend, and you need have no fear that I shall murder +you on the way. And for guarantee. Give me my +card, monsieur, I write on it my address." He took +the card from Bessington and scribbled on it with a +pencil. "I now return it to the gentleman, your +friend, who stays here," and he gave the card into +Crosby's unwilling hand, and he read the address +written across the back. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> + CHATEAU DE ST. MICHEL<br> + BARDILLAC<br> + ARTOIS<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"If you have not returned, M'sieur le Boss, by a +certain date which we will name, then monsieur, your +friend, will go to your police, and they will get into +communication with my police, and zut! It is I for +the guillotine. And, <i>ma foi</i>! I have no use for +Madame la Guillotine, I assure you, my friends." +</p> + +<p> +Crosby laughed disagreeably. +</p> + +<p> +"Good God! I wouldn't care to risk my neck on +such a guarantee as that," he said. "A lot of good +this fellow's guillotining will do you, Bessington, if +you are feeding the fishes in the North Sea. You +chuck the business, take my tip, chuck it. It's nasty, +and I don't like it. It's a low-down game he's +playing, and it's damned low-down on your part to play +up to him. Dirty, that's what it is—dirty." +</p> + +<p> +"Hang it, Crosby, will you be silent!" exclaimed +the other angrily. "It's not your affair, anyhow. If +I choose to take the risk, that's my funeral." +</p> + +<p> +"It's uncommonly likely it will be, too," said +Crosby. "And you'll damn well deserve it," he added +to himself. +</p> + +<p> +"I agree," said Bessington to the Frenchman. "I'll +go with you, Monsieur Dubosc." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well," was the reply, and once more that +queer glitter came to Dubosc's eyes. "Then, with +your permission, M'sieur le Boss—for you still hold +the gun and I, alas, am unarmed—I will go to the +top of the tower and signal for my boat which is out +at sea waiting for me. And then I take you over to +my home—I show you my friend—and I give you +leave, Monsieur le Briton, to take him back with +you to the gallows, <i>bien entendu</i>—if you wish." +</p> + +<p> +And as he said those last words he looked Bessington +in the eyes, and there was an expression in +his own that the elder man found impossible to +fathom. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap20"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XX +<br><br> +ALEC CROSBY MAKES GOOD +</h2> + +<p> +"I don't know what it is, Marshy," said Hermione, +as she and her friend were seated together in the +drawing-room after dinner, and more than twenty-four +hours after she had paid her visit to Betty, a +visit which had been fraught with so much joy, +anxiety, and subsequent fear, "but I feel as though +we ought not to be sitting here doing nothing. I +feel that something ought to be done, now—at once. +I wish I could explain why I feel this, but I can't." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, you needn't explain, my dear," replied her +friend, putting down her knitting. "I feel it myself. +I've been trying to turn this horrid heel and I've +had to unpick it twice, just because I can't focus my +mind on it. Of course, it's this beastly uncertainty +that's at the bottom of it, or else I should put it down +to liver. But, honestly, there's nothing really to +worry about. The Frenchman can't be here yet, not +until he knows the place is safe, and he's got to see +it in black and white in the papers before he'll budge. +Tomorrow night at the earliest, I put it." +</p> + +<p> +"I know," agreed Hermione. "Of course you must +be right, but all the same I keep on feeling that you +are not, and that there's something we ought to consider. +I feel that we are wasting valuable time. I'm +sorry to be such a nuisance, but would you go with +me to the tower? It's a little after nine and I hate +to ask Frank, as he promised to go at twelve to-night, +just on the chance, you know. And yet I know that +he thinks it is utterly useless. He's such a dear and +I hate to impose on him, Marshy." +</p> + +<p> +"If you realized, my dear, that to ask him to do +anything for you is to give him the greatest pleasure +in his life, I think you wouldn't talk nonsense about +imposing on him." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I do realize it and I feel an absolute beast. +For I know—how could any sane woman not know +it?—that he is awfully fond of me." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, my dear. It's obvious, even to an old noodle +like me, that the man's head over ears in love with +you, and always has been. But there it is, just one +of the ill chances of life, and it's no good crying over +spilled milk. There, get your things on. A mile +walk will do us both good. We eat far too much, +and that Hibernian cook of yours, my child, is +ruining my figure—if I ever had one to ruin. You slim +creatures can eat what you like, and nothing seems +to make you swell as it does me. It's a crime on the +part of Nature that makes one female run to fat +unless she starves, and another remain thin if she eats +ten meals a day with potatoes at each of them. +However, there it is, and one has to grin and bear it." +</p> + +<p> +Very soon, and in spite of all Frank Daneham +could say to dissuade them, the two set out on their +walk to the tower, reached it, found it as usual +unoccupied and the sea devoid of any kind of vessel. +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind, I'm glad we came if only to put my +mind at rest," said Hermione. "And while we are +here, let's see once more if we can discover what it +was Dominic found out about the clock." +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon she again made a careful examination +of the mechanism, turning the hands to this figure +and that, and finally leaving them in the state in +which Richard Bessington had found them an hour +later. +</p> + +<p> +The two women returned home, relieved in their +minds, it is true, but Hermione bitterly indignant +with herself that she could not discover the secret of +the clock. +</p> + +<p> +"I shall probably find it out when it's too late," +she said dejectedly, "and I feel that such a lot +depends on it." +</p> + +<p> +"Child, don't be so optimistic," said her friend, +dryly. "You'll make me feel quite cheerful before +you've done, and that would be a big mistake. As a +matter of fact you ought to get to bed early after all +this worry and excitement. You'll be worn out, my +dear." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't budge until Frank comes back from his +walk to-night," said Hermione, with great decision. +</p> + +<p> +But Frank Daneham did not go for a walk that +night, for, as he was on the point of leaving the +drawing-room to go into the hall for his coat and hat, +there came a sharp tap on the windows, the thick +curtains of which were not drawn, and through whose +red blinds the glow of the lamp could be seen by +anyone outside. +</p> + +<p> +"What's that?" Hermione was on her feet, and +running to the door, called Frank, sharply. "Do +come here," she cried. "There's someone outside, +rapping on the window. There I do you hear? there +it is again." +</p> + +<p> +For once more came the sharp tap, tap, repeated +more violently than before, and Frank Daneham +strode to the window, drew back the blind and opened +it. +</p> + +<p> +"What is it? Who is there?" +</p> + +<p> +"It's me, Alec Crosby, from the Glen. Can I come +in and speak to you? I saw your light and didn't +want to make a disturbance by ringing the bell." +</p> + +<p> +"Go round to the door and I'll let you in," said +Daneham, quickly, and in another minute he and the +the women were running down the passage to the +front door which was soon opened and Crosby, hot, +dishevelled, and in a violent state of excitement came +in. +</p> + +<p> +"How on earth—" began Daneham, but the +newcomer interrupted him. +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind yet how I came here. I've got to tell +you something. I've—I've—been a low-down blackguard +and I've got to make good. Can you give me +something to drink? My throat's dry with running. +I've run all the way from the tower here." +</p> + +<p> +"The tower?" cried Hermione, and went white +to the lips. +</p> + +<p> +Daneham ran into the dining-room, poured out a +whisky-and-soda and brought it quickly back to the +panting and exhausted man, who gulped it down +gratefully. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, now I can talk. It's about that feller +Bessington. Fact is he—well, he found out the secret +of that infernal clock when he was over there the +other day—" +</p> + +<p> +"Good God!" exclaimed Frank. "The lying skunk. +He said he had discovered nothing. Are you sure of +this, Crosby?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," replied the other, while Hermione stared +in silent amazement and fear, fear of what she should +hear next. "Sure thing he found it, and more than +that, he saw the old woman loose off a carrier +pigeon—when he was on his way back that was—and he +twigged, or rather I did, that the Frenchman would +probably be staying where the pigeon flew to with +the message, would then wire his boat and try and +get away by the tower to-night." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh!" cried Hermione, desperately. "That's what +we ought to have thought of. But how do you know +all this, Mr. Crosby?" +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind that now," said Daneham. "Did the +Frenchman come, Crosby?" +</p> + +<p> +"He did," was the grim reply. "You see, we had +motored over here, parked our car in the wood, and +walked to the tower, where we stayed waiting for +him in the lower room." +</p> + +<p> +"What lower room, my good man?" demanded +Iza. "Remember you are talking in riddles to us. +We didn't know you were in this thing at all." +</p> + +<p> +"I was helping Bessington, damn him," was the +reply. "But I'll tell you as clearly as I can. There's a +room under the clock room, where the Frenchy +parked his car; you get to it by wading through the river +and through that tunnel—" +</p> + +<p> +"By Jove! Where we were the other day!" cried Frank. +</p> + +<p> +"You couldn't have guessed," said Crosby. "Bessington +only discovered it by finding out that the clock +was a combination safe door, which you set by a date, +and which I'll explain later. The date was actually +set for Monday, December the third, nineteen-seventeen." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah!" a cry from Hermione, and she clutched her +friend by the arm. +</p> + +<p> +"Steady, child," said Iza. "Don't faint, my dear, +there may be a lot for us to do yet." +</p> + +<p> +"Go on, man, what happened?" asked Daneham. +"But first of all, tell me how you come to know all +this and to be here, it will make it easier to +understand." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, that's simple enough. Bessington told me +all about young Arden, you know, and the possibility +of his being alive, and then when this smuggling +stunt came along, he connected Arden with it. Told +me he wanted to see the young man to find out why +he kept away, and asked me to help him. It sounded +all right and I agreed, just for the fun of the +smuggler hunt. Didn't think any harm of Bessington +until—well—until it was too late, you see." +</p> + +<p> +"I think I see." Daneham's face was stern. "Well, +tell us what happened." +</p> + +<p> +"What happened was this—" And then Alec Crosby +proceeded in a graphic manner—interspersed with +many forcible ejaculations regarding his own folly +in ever having been mixed up in the dirty business—to +describe the events which had followed their arrival +at the tower. And his hearers stood listening +with bated breath, Hermione clutching her friend's +hand tightly in her own, fear and horror depicted +on her drawn face as she realized only too clearly +what it all meant, and would mean, to Dominic Arden. +</p> + +<p> +"By Jove!" exclaimed Daneham, when Crosby +paused, breathless for a moment. "It's difficult to +believe that Bessington could have descended to such +a thing as this, or that the Frenchman—who struck +me, in spite of what he did to me, as rather a nice +fellow—could turn out such a contemptible blackguard." +</p> + +<p> +"I refuse to believe it possible," said Iza Marsh, +emphatically, though more to try and reassure Hermione +than through any real conviction on her part. +"I believe there's something more than meets the eye +here." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm afraid not," said Crosby, bitterly. "Bessington +took me in and the Frenchy took you in, Daneham. +I don't set up for being a saint myself, but, +hang it all! There's a limit to a fellow's villainy." +</p> + +<p> +"But could you do nothing at all?" cried Hermione, +piteously. +</p> + +<p> +"Do? What could I do?" he returned. "I could +only stand there and listen to 'em. I did warn +Bessington that he risked his life by going with the +fellow on his boat, but he laughed at me. He knew +he was safe enough, and he knew he'd got me, too. +Knew I couldn't go to the police and tell 'em about +it, because they'd nab me as an accessory in letting +the fellow escape. He didn't think I'd come and +split to you, though, and as soon as I saw the +blackguards well away in their damned boat—pardon, +ladies—I ran hell for leather down to you. I didn't +know my way, of course, but I guessed the path I +found would lead to this house. Here's the blighter's +card with his address," he added, taking it from +his note-case and handing it to Daneham, who +glanced at it and nodded. +</p> + +<p> +"I wonder if it would be better to hand this over to +the police and let them go after the man themselves," +he said. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear Frank!" struck in Iza, vehemently. +"You can't do that, unless you want to give Mr. Arden +away. That's where they've got us, don't you see?" +</p> + +<p> +"Of course I see," was the frowning reply. "Well, +thank you, Crosby, for what you've done. Is there +anything more that you have to tell us?" +</p> + +<p> +"Only one thing, and that is, that if you get off +in the car early to-morrow, you'll catch the express +at Wick in the morning, be in London next morning, +and then get over to France. They'll not get to the +Chateau in less than forty hours, going at top speed +all the way, and if all goes well, you should get there +almost as soon as they do in their damned motorboat. +At any rate you'll be able to help the lad, +and that's all I can say at the moment. I'm sick and +sorry, but I believed in Bessington. 'Pon my honour +I did." +</p> + +<p> +Daneham's answer was to hold out his hand. +"That's all right, man. You've made good, and how +the devil could you have guessed? But what strikes +me in all this is, not that young Arden is in any +danger, but that Bessington is asking to be thrown +overboard." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't you believe it," was the reply. "That +damned French scoundrel is all out for his own skin. +You just get off as soon as you can if you don't want +young Arden to be dragged back and hanged. You +can fight duels in France, you know. All you have to +do is to call that fellow out and kill him; the Frenchy, +too, if necessary, though I don't think that will be, +for he's probably playing a deep game if we only +knew it. Anyhow, what do you say about it?" +</p> + +<p> +"There is nothing to be said, except that I, for +one, am going," said Hermione in a steady voice. +"Frank, you will come?" +</p> + +<p> +"My dear girl, what a question," was his only reply. +</p> + +<p> +"And you certainly don't go without me, my dear," +said Iza Marsh, brusquely. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, we'll all go," said Daneham. "Crosby, keep +your mouth shut about all this—but, of course, I +needn't say that, I know." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't you worry, old man. I'll get right off to +London and lie low. You know my address, look me +up if and when you get back. And don't worry about +Mackay here. Bessington told me that he'd sent him +a note saying he thought there was nothing in the +affair and not to expect him for a bit, as he was going +away or something. Anyhow, they won't bother you. +And don't you worry, either, Mrs. Rodenberg. That +young feller-me-lad will be all right, you'll see." +</p> + +<p> +Hermione held out her hand impulsively. +</p> + +<p> +"May I thank you, Mr. Crosby, for what you +have done?" she said. +</p> + +<p> +"If you'll forgive me, that's all I ask," was the +gruff reply. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap21"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XXI +<br><br> +THE REASON WHY +</h2> + +<p> +The Chateau de St. Michel came into sight long +before the sturdy and swift-racing motor-boat drew +up alongside the private landing-stage. It was a +modern structure, built after the style of an old +French castle, with its many towers and turrets, +standing about fifty yards from the cliff edge down +whose precipitous face a winding path had been cut +leading to the landing-stage. +</p> + +<p> +Richard Bessington and his erstwhile prisoner and +present host were standing on the upper deck watching +the ever-nearing coastline. It was late afternoon +and some forty hours since they had left the Scottish +shore and set out upon their journey. Bessington had +found Antoine Dubosc a most congenial host and +companion, and the hours which must inevitably +have dragged in less pleasing company, had passed +quickly and enjoyably enough. The young man had +treated his rather saturnine guest to a frank and +completely unvarnished history of this far from +blameless life, never, however, mentioning the name +of Dominic Arden once during the whole of the narrative. +</p> + +<p> +"And here," he said, gaily pointing with a wave of +the hand to the nearing scene before them, "is my +home, the ancient citadel of the Duboscs, who were +<i>grand seigneurs</i> of the land when the Britons still +dressed themselves in woad, and which was—in +short, <i>mon ami</i>—built according to my instructions +about two years ago, and occupied by one Antoine +Dubosc, who adopted the name on entering into his +domain of St. Michel, and who is happy in the +possession of a mistress—I mean <i>chatelaine, bien +entendu</i>, who adores him and who will greet him on +his arrival shortly. <i>Non</i>, M'sieur le Boss, I have +never entangled myself with a wife. My trade—if I +may dishonour such a calling by such a bourgeois +title—is too full of risks to permit of the harrowing of +wifely feelings and affections, and the making of +unnecessary widows. Besides, we are too fond of each +other to wish to, or to make it necessary to marry. +It is human nature to resent interference with one's +liberty. Tie the knot of matrimony and, hey presto! you +at once create a sensation of restraint, and with +it comes, of necessity, the desire for freedom. That +is why there are so many divorces to read about in +the papers. Why—<i>Mon Dieu</i>! I ask you, why +will people marry? Tell me that, monsieur." +</p> + +<p> +"Ask me something simpler, Monsieur Dubosc," +was the reply. "I refuse to be drawn into any such +complex argument. Tell me," he went on, "how do +you manage about the Customs? The authorities +must know that you have this boat and this +landing-stage. Is there no difficulty?" +</p> + +<p> +"None whatever, monsieur. When I leave here I +leave as the <i>grand seigneur</i> in his pleasure-boat in +broad daylight. But I call at certain lonely spots of +which I have knowledge and then my small boat goes +forth and returns heavier than she started. If this +continues at intervals throughout the night, it is +surely easy to suppose that by morning I may continue +on my pleasure trip with my hold stored full of +merchandise, and no one the wiser. It is simple, though +one has, it is understood, to know the ropes and take +precautions. And yet, for one who is careful and +also lucky, it is always simple. Indeed, my dear Leonie +she has said very often: 'It is surely too simple, my +Antoine, one day you will be caught.' And <i>helas!</i> she +is right, for one day I am caught, and you, +M'sieur le Boss, have the honour to be the one who +catches. Ah! Life, it is very funny sometimes, but +it is also very pleasant when it is as easy to make a +bargain with the one who catches as I, monsieur, +have made with you. +</p> + +<p> +"But come. We have arrived and we will now +ascend to my chateau. And as my word is my bond, +as you have seen, I have given orders that this boat +shall remain here for the departure of M'sieur le +Boss with his companion whom he is to conduct +either to Madame his wife or Monsieur the hangman as +soon as possible. And if the latter, how very +grateful should your Government be that you avoid for +them the tedium and expense of extradition. Voila, +monsieur. Allow me to welcome you to France, the +home of those who do things that are considered +not British." +</p> + +<p> +And, with a low bow, he sprang on to the jetty, +swept off his felt hat and stood with a hand held out, +offering assistance to Bessington, who followed. +</p> + +<p> +A moment later they were climbing the steep path +up the cliff's side, on the outer edge of which was a +stout iron railing, and five minutes more brought +them to the top where in front of them was a formal +garden, consisting of terraces of flower-beds and a +path which led to the chateau itself. +</p> + +<p> +In silence they traversed the fifty yards, Bessington +finding speech difficult and not quite sure as to how he +was meant to take Dubosc's last words, which sounded +to him like a jibe of contempt. And yet the man +had been willing enough to sacrifice his friend on +the altar of his own liberty, and that was surely far +more worthy of contempt than what he, Bessington, +was doing—namely—his duty in taking a criminal +back to justice, or a husband to his wife. Better, +however, to say nothing and leave the matter alone. He +did not pretend to understand Antoine Dubosc, and +people and things that he did not understand were +usually left severely alone. +</p> + +<p> +They arrived at length at the chateau. The bell +was rung and a manservant opened the door. He +glanced inquiringly at the stranger for a moment and +then turned a beaming countenance on his master. +</p> + +<p> +"Madame, she is in? Or has she gone out?" asked +Dubosc, as he motioned his guest inside and followed. +</p> + +<p> +"Madame is in the library with monsieur," was +the reply. "She was not expecting you so soon." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Non, mon vieux</i>, and neither was I. I am even a +surprise to myself. But, <i>enfin</i>, I am here and that, +I think, is all that matters. Come, M'sieur le Boss, +a word in your ear." He drew Bessington aside while +the servant disappeared through a door at the end of +the large entrance hall. "We shall enter the library +noiselessly, so as not to disturb them, for they are at +work, Leonie and my friend. And I wish you to see +him before you speak, after which I leave the rest to +your British chivalry. Come." +</p> + +<p> +So saying, he led the way across the hall and +paused at a door, turned the handle noiselessly and, +opening it gently, motioned with his hand to Bessington +to stand near the aperture while he himself stood +aside. +</p> + +<p> +Bessington, greatly wondering at all this, obeyed, +even suspecting a trap or a hoax that was being +played on him but never for one instant guessing the +truth. +</p> + +<p> +Then he looked into the room. +</p> + +<p> +At a desk, her head bent, her hand busy with a +pen, sat a woman whose face he could not see, while +in the centre of the room, which was strangely bare of +furniture, a tall slim man was standing, pausing for +a moment in his pacing to and fro, and which a +second later he began again. +</p> + +<p> +Bessington recognized that tall slim figure, the +dark hair, strangely grey about the temples, the thin +ascetic face and nervous hands of Dominic Arden, but +a Dominic Arden nine years older than when he had +last seen him, and with lines of suffering and time +upon his face that belonged rather to a man of fifty +than to a youth of twenty-nine. Also, there was +another difference which at first the looker-on could not +explain or fathom. He was speaking in fluent French, +evidently dictating to the woman at the desk, while +his nervous hands moved convulsively every now and +then, and though his eyes stared straight into +Bessington's own, yet he gave no sign of recognition, +or fear, or any emotion whatsoever. He came slowly +nearer, pausing only a yard away, then turned and +retraced his steps, stopped again and suddenly flung +out a hand. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, this is abominable," he cried, still in French. +"I am indeed a selfish brute. You have sat there for +an hour while I—I have been pouring out my soul, +forgetting that your poor hand must be dead with +cramp, and otherwise behaving like the mere male +creature that I am. Stop, Leonie, my angel, and +kick me round the room as I deserve." +</p> + +<p> +"Foolish one," replied the woman, raising her head +and exhibiting to the watching and now completely-puzzled +Bessington a face of singular attraction, +without in any way being beautiful. For there was +not a feature that was exactly right. The nose was +too short, the mouth too large, the shape of the face +too wide, the colour too pale; but in the eyes, deep +with a wonderful compassion, there was beauty, and +as they looked at the distress in the good-looking face +of the man, that expression of pity, of compassion, +deepened. +</p> + +<p> +"Silly boy that you are," she said, her tones low +and rather husky. "As if I tire ever when seeing you +happy. Do I not know that this is the one bright +spot of light in your poor darkened life? And would +I not work my hands to the bone to see happiness +come to you as you weave your wonderful stories and +forget your own troubles in the weaving? <i>Alons, +cheri</i>, enough of this about me. March, my friend, +march. Are we not in the very middle of the +<i>denouement</i> when the wife returns and will soon be in +her husband's arms? For such a state of things to +happen we must not pause an instant. Now, I am +ready once more." +</p> + +<p> +But the young man did not commence with his +dictation at once. Instead, he walked slowly and +rather unsteadily towards where she sat, stretching +out his hands, feeling first the desk, then her hand; +finally one of his own rested on her head in a mute +caress. +</p> + +<p> +"God bless you, Leonie," he said, huskily. And at +that Bessington felt the Frenchman's hand on his +arm and found himself gently, but firmly, impelled +backwards into the hall. Then the door was silently +closed and Dubosc spoke. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Enfin, mon brave</i>, you have seen? You are satisfied +now that he had reason in staying here? And I +suppose that you, as a kind-hearted Briton, are still +ready to conduct my friend to the hangman?" +</p> + +<p> +"Good God! The man's blind!" said Bessington +hoarsely. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, M'sieur le Boss, he is, as you say, blind; +has, in effect, been blind for nearly seven years. That, +you understand, is the reason why he has never +returned to his own country to seek his wife. Not only +because he could not do so alone and was afraid of +what might happen to him, but also because he +preferred that the woman he loved should rather believe +him dead than feel herself tied to a helpless creature +like himself. That, monsieur, in effect, is why he +has not been brave enough to deliver himself to your +hangman—because, you see, we who loved him did +not—strange as it may seem to you—we did not offer +our help in that direction, and without it he could +not go. For a blind man is a very helpless man, +monsieur. A heinous offence, no doubt, on our +part, seeing that it is one's duty to help in bringing +the wrongdoer to justice. But I and my Leonie have +no shame in what we have done and, <i>nom de Dieu!</i> +I do not think it is because the Almighty is not +British that He will not pardon us." +</p> + +<p> +"Be silent, please," exclaimed Bessington, goaded +at last beyond endurance at the other's gibing voice, +which now he could understand and, in seeing the +justice of which, feel the greater irritation. "Tell me +about this. How did he lose his sight? When? +Where?" +</p> + +<p> +"He lost it, my friend, in the prison camp of our +one time enemies. Never mind how—I will not go +into that, since it is over and we are at peace again, +and recriminations—as you have it in your +vernacular—get us nowhere. Also, there are some things it +is better not to know; one sleeps the easier for not +knowing them. Enough that his sight is gone, never +to return. For, believe me, we have taken him to +the very greatest specialists, and all give but the one +opinion. For me, if I had been in his place, I should +have ended it long ago—for to lose one's sight is to +lose everything. And it does not make it any better to +know that he is only one among hundreds of young +men who lost theirs in the War. But he is brave, +that one, and my Leonie, bless her heart, she helps +him to be brave, and lightens his dark hours, which, +believe me, monsieur, number twenty-three out of +twenty-four." +</p> + +<p> +"But he should be happy with such good friends?" +protested Bessington, who had not yet adjusted his +mind to this new and altogether complicated state +of affairs. +</p> + +<p> +"Happy? <i>Mais non</i>, is he not for ever thinking of +the wife he has lost? Of the wife who, for all he +knows, has forgotten him? Do you think we read to +him the account of her marriage? But give us credit +for some little feeling, monsieur. Of course, we did +not. So that he knows nothing of her, not even of +where she lives, or if she is married again or even +dead." +</p> + +<p> +"But did you not know that she had bought +Ardenmore? Surely that would convey something to +you of her feelings towards him?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, I did not know. I saw nothing of it in the +papers except one paragraph in which it was stated +that Ardenmore was once again to change hands and +was to be bought by a person of great wealth. It was +then that he insisted that I take him across in my +boat, I who already had gone so many times to the +tower, the secret of which he had told me long ago. +It was I who stole the pictures and books for him +because—the poor thing—he could not see to steal +them for himself." +</p> + +<p> +"And he knows nothing about what you are doing, +what use you are making of the secret he told you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing. But nothing at all. Why, <i>mon Dieu</i>, +if he thinks me an honourable fellow, should I make +him unhappy by telling him that I am not? There +would be no sense in it. For he is not likely to +discover it for himself. So I take a leaf from your book +of wise sayings, and I repeat to myself—'Where +ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise.' Wisdom, my +friend, does not always make for happiness." +</p> + +<p> +"I see." Bessington spoke slowly, his eyes fixed on +vacancy. "I see," he repeated again. +</p> + +<p> +"And now what is to happen?" demanded Antoine +Dubosc, regarding his companion out of suddenly +narrowed eyelids. +</p> + +<p> +Richard Bessington was silent for a moment. This, +of course, explained why the Frenchman had been so +ready to take him to see young Arden; he was sure +of what would be the result engendered by compassion +for a blind man. What would be his action +should this result not be forthcoming and Bessington +insist on taking his friend back to England? Would +he stand by his bargain? Or would things become +nasty and dangerous for Richard Bessington? For +the moment it was obvious that he must temporize, +play for time in which to think. +</p> + +<p> +"You will, of course, give me time in which to consider +this matter?" he said at last. Dubosc raised his +eyebrows. +</p> + +<p> +"To consider?" he repeated. "But is there, then, +anything to consider? Is it possible to suppose that +I should have taken you to see my friend if I had not +thought that, having seen him, you would be satisfied +that there was only one thing left to do, and that +to go home—alone?" +</p> + +<p> +And then doubt came to Bessington as to whether +he had been wise in trusting himself alone there. +Whatever he chose to do, could he trust this man? +If his word of honour did not bind him, was that +guarantee in the shape of Crosby, who was to go to +the police in four days' time should Bessington not +return, of sufficiently deterring effect as to hold the +Frenchman's hand if he thought fit to raise it against +him? He looked quickly into the dark face, fear and +doubt in his own eyes, and the steely-eyed crook was +quick to see and to understand, and he suddenly +laughed. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, you mistrust me," he said. "You doubt the +word of a thief and a smuggler. But you need have +no fear. When I agreed to bring you here it was in +exchange for my liberty. Had I not brought you I +should now have been in gaol. It is for you and my +friend to decide between you, that was our bargain, +and a bargain is still a bargain, monsieur, even if +made between an English gentleman and a French +crook. If I am disappointed in you, that is my affair, +but it is not, <i>mon Dieu</i>, a reason for—murder. Come, +monsieur, I await your answer. What do you mean +to do? My boat is waiting; my men, who are also +my comrades, are awaiting my orders. I cannot ask +them to wait forever." +</p> + +<p> +"I know. And yet this is a matter which requires +consideration," repeated Bessington. Which was true, +for the fact of Dominic Arden's helpless state did +alter things considerably. It made it certain that did +Hermione hear of it she would be lost to +him—Bessington—forever—a thing impossible to +contemplate. As for his idea of taking this man back to +justice, there would be no justice. There would, +instead, be a lot of sickly sentiment towards a blind +man, and he would probably get off scot free, if, +indeed, he was ever tried, which was doubtful indeed. +If he took him back to England, he would be taking +him straight into the arms of his wife and ruining +his own chances of happiness. And if he left him +here, Hermione might in some way discover the +truth. He could not leave him here, for Crosby +knew the address, and Crosby, with his sickly ideas, +might be very dangerous. +</p> + +<p> +And here was where this blindness might be of +immense help. There were possibilities—the possibility +of a false step made by the blind man on board +the motor-boat. A stifled cry in the night, a splash, +and, later, an entirely plausible story to Hermione, +either of a search for Dominic Arden and a failure to +find any such person alive; or that sooner than +return to her he had, through fear of what should +happen to him, gone off somewhere, no one knew where. +Nothing could ever be proved, whichever course he +chose to adopt. The Frenchman for his own sake +dare not expose him, and he did not credit him with +any fine feelings of self-sacrifice for the sake of +Dominic Arden. +</p> + +<p> +Also, and this had seriously to be considered now—there +was the possibility of eliminating the Frenchman—who +might prove troublesome—from the picture +altogether. He could provoke a quarrel, from +which would ensue a duel, and who had ever stood +up against Richard Bessington's marksmanship and +come off best yet? Yes, certainly things were +shaping, only it would take thinking out. He must go +warily. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, M'sieur le Boss." The Frenchman's voice +brought him back to realities with a start. "You have +made up your mind?" +</p> + +<p> +"I must see the man himself first, before I can say +anything," he replied. "I told you that my actions +would be guided more or less by his own decision." +</p> + +<p> +"That is true," replied Dubosc, that queer glitter +in his usually laughing eyes. "Have you any doubt as +to what he will decide? Though, indeed, he may even +decide that it would be preferable to return in the +custody of police officers than with you, monsieur." +</p> + +<p> +"You mean that if I saw fit to take him and he +refused to accompany me, it would be a matter for +extradition?" +</p> + +<p> +"That, more or less, is what I mean," was the reply. +"At least, it will do," and Bessington failed to +hear the irony in the tone. +</p> + +<p> +"And I take it that you will not oppose me whatever +happens? Whatever I consider it my duty to do?" +</p> + +<p> +"Monsieur, I do not want your fat friend to put +the police on my track, that is understood," was the +reply. "Rest assured that I will not oppose you in +any way. What you do, you do. And what my friend +decides, he decides; I am ready to fall in, you call it, +with your plans. That is understood." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well, then, if you will bring Mr. Arden here +I will see him." +</p> + +<p> +Antoine Dubosc strode towards the library without +another word. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap22"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XXII +<br><br> +THE BEGINNING OF A JOURNEY +</h2> + +<p> +For a quarter of an hour Richard Bessington paced +the hall alone, glad of the interval of quiet in which +he could think out his future plan of action. And +after much hard thinking the one dominant decision +he arrived at was that on no account whatever must +Dominic Arden be allowed to remain here, nor, when +once on the way home, must he be permitted to land. +</p> + +<p> +During that voyage, therefore, something had got +to happen. But as the voyage would take practically +forty-eight hours to accomplish, there was ample +time in which to arrange what that happening should +be. The immediate present was his great concern. +He had stipulated with Dubosc that Arden should be +given his choice of returning to his wife or being +dealt with by himself. Either course must be, in the +Frenchman's mind, equally dangerous, for he would +not take into consideration the probable immunity of +the young man on account of his blindness. +</p> + +<p> +What would happen, therefore, if he, Bessington, +insisted on the agreement being carried out—as he +must should Arden refuse to go back to his wife, +which he undoubtedly would, since he had done so +for seven years, and now that his presence was +discovered and action likely to be taken, had even +greater reason for doing. +</p> + +<p> +Dubosc, up to now, had seemed reasonable. But +reasonable or not, Dubosc, in any case, was in the +way. Dubosc, therefore, must be got out of the way. +If, by any means, he could be induced to accompany +his friend on the boat, there would be a very easy way +of getting rid of him, and by the simple means of +provoking a duel, and not even his own comrades on +the boat would associate an honourable duel with +murder. +</p> + +<p> +If, on the other hand, Dubosc suggested going +himself, so much the better, and if he contemplated +anything in the nature of foul play, he, Bessington, +would have got his own stunt into action long before +the other could do anything. +</p> + +<p> +This, then, was the decision he had arrived at +when at length the library door opened and the two +men came in. +</p> + +<p> +No doubt something, if not all, of the truth had +been explained to Arden and to the woman Leonie, +for Antoine Dubosc looked oddly excited, in strange +and vivid contrast to the other, whose arm he held +and whose white face showed a deadly calm. But +not even the sight of this helpless creature caused a +momentary twinge of pity from the stern, vindictive +avenger, for the glaring fact that this same helpless +creature stood between himself and happiness, +between himself and nine long years of unrequited and +hopeless passion, killed all thoughts of pity. Pity! +Faugh! It was unthinkable that anything so sickly +should possess him for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +"Permit me," said Dubosc, as the two came slowly +towards Bessington, "to make you known to one +another. Colonel Bessington—my friend Mr. Arden. +I have, it is understood, already made the facts +known to my friend. It is, therefore, for you two +to arrange matters between you. Allow me to +observe, though"—here he glanced at his watch—"that +the sooner you arrive at a complete understanding, +the better. Here is a chair, <i>mon ami</i>, sit down." +</p> + +<p> +"Thanks, old man," said Dominic, his voice very +quiet and steady. "I'd sooner stand, but I'd like you +to stay—if you don't mind." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Mon Dieu!</i>" exclaimed the other. "I had no +intention of going." And seating himself in a +comfortable arm-chair, he stretched out his legs and +proceeded to light a cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +"The matter should be quite easily settled," +observed Bessington, with a quick and rather uneasy +glance at the seated figure. He could have very well +done without his presence, but wisely made no protest. +</p> + +<p> +"Quite easily," agreed Dominic, his sightless eyes +turned in Bessington's direction, and so uncannily +fixed upon the other's face that the elder man felt it +almost impossible to believe that Arden could not +see him. +</p> + +<p> +"You understand why I am here, Arden?" he asked +sternly. +</p> + +<p> +"My friend has explained the situation fully, sir," +was the reply. "And as there could have been no +question in your mind as to my voluntary return to +my own country, either to my wife or to anyone, +there is only one reason for your presence here." +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose you understand that if you agree to go +to your wife, I will take no further action against +you," went on Bessington, who could afford to fulfil +his bargain to the letter knowing well what would be +the result. +</p> + +<p> +"Thanks," replied the young man, with a laugh +full of bitterness. "You know as well as I do that I +can't return to my own country again, and that I +would rather die than ask my wife to share my exile. +I have kept away from her all these years in order to +spare her the hell of being involved in my troubles +and also of being tied for her life to a blind man. +There is no reason why I should alter my decision +and I have no intention of doing so." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well. Monsieur Dubosc, you hear this?" +</p> + +<p> +"I am not deaf, M'sieur le Boss. I hear well +enough, and I am glad that we are both honourable +men. <i>Allons, continuez, mon brave.</i>" The Frenchman +lay back in his chair and half-closed his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"As you have refused the conditions offered you," +proceeded Bessington, turning again to Dominic, "I +have no choice but to ask you to accompany me back +to England where you will have to stand your trial +on a charge of murder. The murder of my great +friend and superior officer, Colonel Grimshawe, on +the evening of the third of December, nineteen-seventeen." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well," the steady voice had not a quiver in +it, the steady eyes remained fixed. +</p> + +<p> +"And do you deny or admit the charge?" +</p> + +<p> +"Come, come," here interposed Dubosc quickly. +"That is not a question for you to ask, my friend. It +is out of your province altogether. Admit nothing, +Dominic, my son." +</p> + +<p> +"Why not?" he asked. "I can't deny it, I don't +deny it. I killed him, and I meant to. There is +nothing more to be said." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Sacre milles tonnerres</i>! But there is," exclaimed +the other. "You may have knocked him down, but +that is not to say that you meant to kill him. There +is no proof of that, <i>mordieu</i>!" +</p> + +<p> +"Unfortunately there is," interposed Bessington, +quietly. "Two soldiers in the next room heard +Arden say that he meant to kill him." +</p> + +<p> +"It's true that I said that," admitted Dominic, +calmly. "After what he said I had no intention of +allowing him to say anything again, therefore I killed +him." +</p> + +<p> +Dubosc laughed harshly. "You drive nails into a +coffin, my friend," he said with a glance at +Bessington. "Well, have it your own way. If you wish to +hang, you must hang." +</p> + +<p> +"Do you not think it would be better if you left +us to do the talking, Monsieur Dubosc?" inquired +Bessington, coldly. +</p> + +<p> +"You may think so, certainly, which does not mean +that I do." +</p> + +<p> +"Better let it alone, old man," said Dominic. "I'd +rather you did. After all, there's really nothing to +be said, so what's the use of saying anything?" +</p> + +<p> +"All right, as you will," replied the Frenchman. +</p> + +<p> +"Having admitted so much, then I suppose you +have no objection to accompanying me back to England?" +asked Bessington, turning once more to Dominic. +</p> + +<p> +"I would prefer to stay and await extradition," +was the quiet reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Why so? It would make no difference and be +far worse and more unpleasant for you. For then I +should have to make a charge to the police here and +you would be kept in custody over here until the +formalities were through." +</p> + +<p> +"I should prefer it, sir," repeated Dominic. There +was a strange dignity about him that impressed even +Bessington. Dubosc was not looking at him, he +appeared to be absorbed in the process of blowing rings +into the still air. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm afraid I can't agree to that," said Bessington. +"I prefer to take you back myself, and since you +neither deny the charge, nor offer any objection to +being taken back, I consider that I have fulfilled my +contract made to you, Monsieur Dubosc, and that +the matter is, in short, ended." +</p> + +<p> +"It certainly seems so," replied the Frenchman, +still blowing rings. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you anything to say to that?" asked +Bessington, again turning to Dominic. The young man +shrugged slightly. +</p> + +<p> +"Except that I would prefer to be taken back by +the police, I have nothing to say," was the quiet +reply. +</p> + +<p> +"But, <i>mon cher</i>," here interposed Dubosc. "That +is surely unreasonable. Of course, it is true that +everyone has his own taste, but for myself I am not so +enamoured with the police. If you must go, then at +least go in comfort, which you would not do if in the +charge of two of your police. Also, it would mean +that our own police would pay me a visit here, and +they are the last visitors that I desire, <i>bien entendu</i>. +But, of course, you please yourself. I have no wish to +interfere." +</p> + +<p> +Dominic was silent for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," he said at last. "I hadn't thought of that. +After what you told me about that wretched smuggling +business, of course they can't come here. Good +God! If I'd only known! But I'm not blaming you, +old man, or in any way for what has happened now. +I am to blame in ever having given away that secret. +But it's done now, and it's of no use kicking." +</p> + +<p> +"Then if that is so," observed Bessington, "I +take it that you will consider yourself in my charge +from now." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well," replied Dominic. "I'm afraid I must, +and after all, the sooner it's over the better." +</p> + +<p> +Bessington regarded the calm impassive face for a +moment, and then he walked a few steps towards him. +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose you fully understand the situation," +he said. "I mean that it will not be a question of the +boat returning to Scotland, but to some other port +in the south of England." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I suppose so," replied Dominic, indifferently. +</p> + +<p> +"That being the case," proceeded the other, "have +you no desire to ask any questions? Your wife, for +instance?" +</p> + +<p> +But at that the hot blood suddenly surged into the +young man's pale face, and it was easy to understand +how the now dull eyes could have glittered and +blazed had there been a spark of life left in them. +</p> + +<p> +"Be silent," he said, harshly. "And be good enough +not to touch on my private affairs. Get on with your +duty, if that's what you call it, but anything else is +outside your province. I discuss my affairs only with +my friends, not with my gaoler." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! <i>Mon Dieu!</i> such heat!" exclaimed Dubosc, +suddenly springing out of his chair and laying a hand +on Dominic's shaking shoulder. "And for what, +<i>mon ami</i>? Say but the word and this Colonel Bessington +walks out of my house and into my boat for a +lonely passage home, and to hell with my honour, if +it becomes necessary. You do not think that I am +willing for you to go, do you? And that if it was not for +this, my word of honour, which I gave him in exchange +for liberty, that I would let him take you, eh? +</p> + +<p> +"You would have no choice, old man," was the +reply. "It's not likely I would let you suffer +after—after all you have done for me. Why, good God, +man! Do you think I'd mind dying if it wasn't for +leaving you and Leonie? That's my only hell, +now." +</p> + +<p> +There was a look of such inexpressible misery on +his drawn face as he groped desperately for his +friend's hands that even Bessington turned away. +And it was then that Dubosc seized the groping +hands and whispered hurriedly: +</p> + +<p> +"Courage, <i>mon brave</i>, trust me, all will be well," +and then, seeing the look of puzzlement on the +other's face, he turned abruptly to Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +"Monsieur le Colonel," he said, "you will, I suppose, +have no objection to my saying a few words to +my friend in private?" +</p> + +<p> +"On the contrary," was the reply. "I have every +objection. Mr. Arden is now in my custody, and if I +were an officer of police I should not leave his side +for one moment. It would, after all, have been +simpler for me to have handed him over to the police. +But as it would undoubtedly inconvenience you, +Monsieur Dubosc, to have those gentleman in your +house, and you have persuaded your friend to go +with me, I must ask you in common courtesy to +respect my position as lawful custodian of this man. +Anything that you and he or anyone else have to +say will be said in my hearing." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Bien</i>, monsieur, I see your point, and I commend +your astuteness that will make capital out of my +unfortunate position, with regards to my own +police," here he laughed. "As for what I would say +to my friend it is this, and M'sieur le Boss is welcome +to hear it. Be brave, <i>mon enfant</i>, and have courage. +Things may not be so black as they seem. And for +your journey, I at least will be there to see that you +have comfort, for, always with the permission of +Monsieur le Colonel, I propose to accompany you." +</p> + +<p> +"You please yourself about that," replied Bessington. +"Personally, I am very glad that you are +coming." Which was perfectly true. +</p> + +<p> +"And God knows I shall be grateful for you, old +man," said Dominic. "I suppose," he went on to +Bessington, "you will have no objection to my +saying good-bye to Madame?" +</p> + +<p> +"None whatever, provided it is also in my presence." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Bien</i>," said Dubosc, with a grin. "You are indeed +wise, monsieur, to take no risks. I will go and fetch +her." +</p> + +<p> +He left the hall abruptly, and as the library door +closed behind him Bessington turned and watched +his prisoner as he stood in the centre of the large bare +apartment, motionless, and apparently absorbed in +his own thoughts. And as he considered his absolute +helplessness, he reflected that it would be an +easy matter for that "something" to happen on board +the boat before the English shores were reached. A +blind man is easy prey for anyone. +</p> + +<p> +There came a sudden movement from Dominic, a +quick upward turn of the head. +</p> + +<p> +"Are you still there, Colonel Bessington?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, of course I am here." +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose it is useless to ask you to let me see +Leonie alone? I am unarmed, so I can't shoot +myself but of course you can search me if you don't +believe that." +</p> + +<p> +"I believe you all right," was the reply, "but I'm +afraid I can't possibly do as you ask, in the circumstances." +</p> + +<p> +Dominic's reply was drowned in the sudden bursting +open of the library door, admitting a whirlwind +in the shape of Leonie who swept across the hall and +flung her arms round his neck. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, <i>mon Dieu</i>! That ever I should live to see +this day," she cried, passionately. "I thought when +Antoine told me about this thing that you would +arrive at an understanding, or for sure I should have +been here before to see to it. They shall not take you +away, my little one, no, they shall not! It is I, Leonie, +who says it." Here she turned angrily to Bessington. +"Who are you, <i>ma foi</i>! that you come here +with your talk of duty. <i>Mon Dieu</i>! It is not duty, it +is a crime that you do, a crime that even your <i>sacre</i> +Government will not countenance." Here her voice +rose to a scream and she shook her fist in his face. +"You think to hang him and so to be rid of him, but +you will not and so I tell you, I who love him and +who know that he is no criminal, but a brave and +honourable man who would not listen to one who +told a lie about his wife, but who very rightly killed +him who slandered and dishonoured her name. And +for that he is to be hanged! Ah no. <i>Ma foi</i>, no! And +a thousand times no. Antoine, he is a coward and a +fool. If he was a man he would kill you. But he is +afraid for his own life, and I—I have not the +strength or it is with these hands that I—" but here +a sob choked her, and Dominic, who in vain had tried +to interrupt her, at last broke in. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't, Leonie, <i>cherie</i>. For God's sake leave it +alone, you only make it worse for me. Say good-bye, +dear, and let me go. I want to thank you for what +you have done and yet I can't, there are no words—" +but here she in her turn stopped him. +</p> + +<p> +"No!" she cried. "I will not listen. There are no +thanks between you and me. If it was not that I feel +things will go well with you in the end, be sure +that that man there—whatever Antoine says—should +not cake you. As it is I—I—spit in his face—" +</p> + +<p> +But before she could put her words into practice +Antoine Dubosc was in the room and with gentle +force had taken her by the shoulders and urged her +to the door. +</p> + +<p> +"There, my little cabbage, enough, that will do. +You make affairs no better by this kind of thing, +though I understand how you feel. There, go now +and wait with patience until my return." He pushed +her protesting through the door, closed it, and came +back to Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +"I apologize, M'sieur le Boss," he said with a +shrug. "My Leonie she is excitable, she has given +me what you call hell but this moment ago, but it is +that she does not understand, honour is not to her +what it is to me. But she means no harm and one +always makes allowances for the ladies, that is +understood." +</p> + +<p> +"Naturally," replied Bessington. "I take it that +we can start then?" +</p> + +<p> +"At your convenience, monsieur. My servant has +taken my friend's suit-case to the boat, so let us +march if you please. Though it has formerly been +my amiable task to help my friend in his walks, I +now relinquish that pleasure to you monsieur. You +will be careful with him down the steps." +</p> + +<p> +But Bessington waved a hand. +</p> + +<p> +"No," he said. "I prefer that you conduct him +yourself. I will follow behind." Indeed, to have +contemplated a walk down the cliff path with the +Frenchman behind him was, in Richard Bessington's +opinion, to ask for trouble. Not until he had him +safely covered with his automatic would Richard +Bessington feel really safe. +</p> + +<p> +And as the three set off, he dropped a pace behind +them, and, taking the weapon from his pocket, held +it ready in his hand. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap23"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XXIII +<br><br> +TWO SHOTS +</h2> + +<p> +There were but two sailors on the fast-going +motorboat, the engineer and steersman, and neither paid +much heed to the arrival of the three passengers. +They knew Antoine Dubosc too well to ask questions +of him. He was their master, in that his superior +cunning and ability had been the means of obtaining +for them the luxuries and affluence of their present +positions. For when not on the boat they lived at +the chateau, enjoying what the others enjoyed. +</p> + +<p> +They had their orders now, and directly they were +on board the moorings were cast off and the throb +of the powerful engines were heard. +</p> + +<p> +"It will be cold on deck," said Dubosc. "I advise +not the deck cabin but the one below, Monsieur le +Colonel." +</p> + +<p> +"In any case my charge would be placed in a cabin," +was the uncompromising reply. "I run no risks, +you understand." +</p> + +<p> +"For yourself no, but for us! <i>Mon Dieu</i>! what of +that <i>automatique</i> which you held during our walk +down the cliff? <i>Ma foi</i>, monsieur, you ran a great +risk there, but it was of stumbling and shooting one +of us in the back." And here the Frenchman laughed, +as though at a good joke. "It was perhaps to your +mind better than that one of us should shoot you in +the back, eh?" +</p> + +<p> +"There was no fear of an accident from me," +replied Bessington, realizing uncomfortably that the +Frenchman had read his thoughts. "I am used to +weapons." +</p> + +<p> +"As myself, no doubt, though without the reputation +of Monsieur le Colonel as the finest shot in Europe, +<i>Helas</i>!" said Dubosc. "<i>Allons</i>, let us then +deposit ourselves on the soft lounges in my cabin. The +quarters are cramped, but as you will understand in +a racing craft of this kind, space is small, and what +space there is must be used for engines and storing +contraband." +</p> + +<p> +"For God's sake, don't talk about that," exclaimed +Dominic, as his friend steered him down to the small +saloon. "It was abominable of you to have used +what I told you in such a manner, especially after +telling me that you had given all that up." +</p> + +<p> +"My friend, do not abuse me. It is true that I +have given up theft long ago as you know. Smuggling +is another thing. It is merely a duty that I +owe to myself and my friends in your country, and +duty is a very elastic term—as Monsieur le Colonel +seems also to think." +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps the less we say about smuggling the +better," observed the elder man, dryly. They were +moving at a great rate now, and the small boat trembled +under the powerful engines. +</p> + +<p> +"I do not see that," retorted Dubosc, his lids +narrowed. "Sit down, <i>mon brave</i>." He pulled Dominic +on to the couch beside him. "Here is a match, you +have cigarettes, I know, and I do not think it is +necessary to ask monsieur your escort's permission that +you smoke." This with a grin at Bessington, who +murmured: "Of course not." +</p> + +<p> +Dominic lit his cigarette and lay back against the +padded seat, listening idly to the conversation. +</p> + +<p> +"To return to our muttons," proceeded Dubosc, +with another glance at Bessington. "Smuggling, as +practised by me, is a fine art, it is also a charity. +Think of all the pretty girls in England and Scotland +who would, were it not for me, have to pay—through +the nose, you call it?—for their stockings. But with +my help they may buy three pairs where without it +they would obtain but one. That alone is a matter +for rejoicing." +</p> + +<p> +"I think I suggested that the less you said about +that the better," observed Bessington once more. He +was anxious to force a quarrel, and this Frenchman +was something of a puzzle to him, who had never +gone in for the study of character in individuals, +preferring to take those he came in contact with at their +face value. The fellow was a crook, had owned to +it, gloried in it in fact, and yet so far he had played +straight, too straight for Madame Leonie's taste, +too. And either this could only be in order to save +his own skin or else because he had some ulterior +motive behind his seemingly easy compliance. But had +it been so, surely he would have exhibited more +reluctance in allowing his friend to be taken back to +punishment, if only for the look of the thing, or was he, +too, fairly confident that the British Government +would not deal too harshly with a blind man who, +whatever wrong he had done had at least tried to do +his bit for his country and paid bitterly for it. +</p> + +<p> +If that was the Frenchman's real reason for this +show of easy compliance, it was, and had been also +Bessington's only fear when he discovered Arden to +be blind. From that moment there was only one +thing to do, and in order to accomplish that Dubosc +had first of all to be got rid of, and there again was +only one alternative, and surely not a difficult one of +achievement seeing that the fellow who must be +dealt with was a Frenchman and would see nothing +odd in the otherwise ridiculous matter of a duel. +And in a duel with revolvers or automatics, Richard +Bessington was bound to be the victor. He would +therefore force a quarrel on this man, the issue of +which would be practically a certainty. A duel in the +eyes of most Frenchmen was the proper and only +way to settle a dispute. The two men on board would +see nothing wrong or out of the way in this, and for +their own sakes they would forbear to suspect +anything wrong. This was, of course, the one way out +of an otherwise very difficult situation—if Dubosc +chose to risk the consequences and make it so. +</p> + +<p> +And he sat there, eyeing the engaging young criminal, +who was so shortly to be food for fishes, and +utterly ignorant of the fact that much the same kind +of thought was passing through the mind of his +potential victim. The thought, in fact, that was the +sole reason for his presence on board and for his +seemingly easy compliance with the other's demands. +</p> + +<p> +And when two men, however different their motives +may be, are determined on the same course of +action, it is safe to believe that they will not find +much difficulty in achieving it. +</p> + +<p> +And while they both made their plans, the innocent +object of all their thoughts and aims sat beside them, +oblivious of anything save the fact of his own helpless +position, and the nearing of his own end, while +all the time the fast motor-boat was surging out to +sea and the shores of France were already only a +memory. +</p> + +<p> +It occurred, therefore, to both of them that, if the +good work was to be accomplished, it must be done +while there was sufficient light in which to see to +shoot by, and it was already beginning to fail. +Antoine Dubosc accordingly seized the opportunity +which—unknown to him—had been held out. He, in +fact, snapped at it as a dog that is offered an +appetizing morsel. +</p> + +<p> +"You suggest, I understand, monsieur," he said, in +his most polite manner, "that the less I say about +smuggling the better? Perhaps, though, I misunderstood +and it was not what you said?" +</p> + +<p> +"On the contrary, you understood me perfectly," +was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah. Then permit me to observe, monsieur, that +I dispute your right to dictate to me as to what I +shall or shall not converse upon. I am not—I thank +the good God—also your prisoner, remember." +</p> + +<p> +"Come, come, Monsieur Dubosc. Kindly remember +to whom you are speaking. I am not here of my +own wish but because of my duty—" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah bah! Enough of duty, monsieur," said Dubosc, +rising suddenly. "I have heard all I want of +that subject, it is time that I made my own few +remarks on this matter and, since this saloon becomes +overheated, it would be more comfortable for my +friend to be alone, and I suggest that we therefore +go on deck." +</p> + +<p> +There was no suspicion in Bessington's mind that +the other was also trying to force a quarrel. He had +calculated that it would not be difficult of +accomplishment with this hot-blooded French crook but it +was easier even than he had thought. It was also +uncomfortably close there, and he felt that he would +be better able to cope with the situation if he had not +to sit opposite that forlorn-looking figure on the +other seat. He rose instantly. +</p> + +<p> +"I agree with you," he said. "You will, I suppose, +allow me to lock this door?" he added, as they +stood in the narrow opening to the companionway. +Dubosc shrugged. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Mais, comme vous voulez, monsieur</i>. I do not +think he is likely to try and commit suicide, and, +saving that, he is safe enough. But by all means turn +the key on him; it is, no doubt, as well that he +becomes used to the sound at once." +</p> + +<p> +A moment later the two were on deck, the key of +the saloon in Bessington's pocket. +</p> + +<p> +The stout boat was speeding ahead, leaving two +white foaming trails in her wake. The sea was as +smooth as any bad sailor could have wished, and, +save for the whirr of the high-powered engines, and +the intermittent sound of the man at the wheel, there +was nothing to disturb the two would-be combatants. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, Monsieur Dubosc," Bessington turned and +faced the Frenchman. "You had some remarks to +make on the subject of duty. I shall be interested +to hear them." +</p> + +<p> +There was no suspicion either, in Dubosc's mind, +that his companion was forcing the issue. He merely +considered that he was an easy man to quarrel with, +and, incidentally, the most credulous fool he had ever +had the fortune to come in contact with. It did not +trouble him in the least that he was considered the +best revolver shot in Europe. Monsieur Antoine +Dubosc had no occasion to feel any particular alarm +over that. +</p> + +<p> +"My remarks, Monsieur le Colonel, I'm afraid +will not be very palatable to you, for they concern +your motive in getting hold of your friend and +taking him back to what you call justice." +</p> + +<p> +"My motives are clean, I have nothing to worry +about there." +</p> + +<p> +"Indeed? Well, that is—in fact—what I doubt. +Listen, Monsieur le Colonel. I, who have lived my +life to the full, and have no shame in it, <i>ma foi non</i>! +I have had occasion to study men—and women, <i>bien +entendu</i>—and I have found that though there are +many incentives to the committing of crime—crime, +you understand—yet there is one that is greater than +all and which seldom fails. And this; monsieur, is +the force of love and that which is connected with +love—jealousy and lust." +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean by that exactly?" demanded +Bessington. +</p> + +<p> +"I mean, Monsieur le Colonel, that I do not believe +in your cry of duty, when you speak of your reason +in dealing with my poor friend, nor yet in the +honesty of that dealing when you offer him the choice +of a return to his wife. For you knew he would refuse +and so it was no choice at all. You wish to hang him. +Why? Not for love of the friend he killed, time +has itself killed all that long ago. And for your +duty—that is nothing unless it goes with your +inclination. Then there is some other reason and I, +being a Frenchman, for which I most devoutly thank +God—" and here he raised his soft felt hat—"and +therefore quick of wit and understanding in the matters +of the heart, I point my finger on the real motive, +and I say, <i>naturellement, cherchez la femme</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"What the devil do you mean?" demanded Bessington, +real anger now in his tone at last. The other +laughed unpleasantly. +</p> + +<p> +"I mean, monsieur, that if there is a woman, it is +not difficult to imagine the name of that woman. I +have seen the photograph of my friend's wife which +he wears—God help him—next his heart. For when +he was ill, it was I, my faith! who saw to him. And +it is easy to suppose—I also being a man, monsieur, +that you—being what God made you—are as eager +to possess her as any other man might be. Oh yes, +my Colonel, you may fool others into believing that +it was your duty to your country or your friendship +for the murdered man which made you come here to +take my friend back to his death, but, believe me, I, +Antoine Dubosc, who have made a study of the motives +of frail humanity, am not so easily deceived. I +say to myself, you want this woman! <i>Bien</i>. The +rest is easy to understand." +</p> + +<p> +Bessington's eyes suddenly glittered. +</p> + +<p> +"And that, Monsieur Dubosc," he said quietly, "is +a lie." +</p> + +<p> +Instantly the Frenchman turned on him. +</p> + +<p> +"'<i>Cre nom!</i>" he cried. "You say that to me! To +my face? That I lie? I—Antoine Dubosc!" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes. I repeat that you lie, Monsieur Dubosc." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Bien</i>. It is enough. Monsieur le Colonel will, +no doubt, give me the satisfaction that I demand for +so gross an insult. Nothing else would avail, and I +take it that he is no coward. Or perhaps, for +example, I am mistaken in that." +</p> + +<p> +"You have made no mistake," was the cold reply, +"and I am ready to meet you, Monsieur Dubosc, and +I think there could be no better place than on this +deck, and no more fitting time than the present." Dubosc +bowed. +</p> + +<p> +"There, we are in agreement," he said dryly. "We +have an hour of daylight yet, perhaps you will have +no objection to any arrangements I may make which +will be of benefit to us?" +</p> + +<p> +"I have no objection so long as they are open and +aboveboard," was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Again an insult, Monsieur le Colonel. <i>Ma foi!</i> but +it is time we settled this matter between us, I +think." +</p> + +<p> +He turned abruptly, gave the signal to the engineer +to shut off power and to come on deck at once. +</p> + +<p> +"We will, at least, have two witnesses to these +proceedings," he said. "And for weapons, I being the +one who is insulted, have the choice. But since there +are no rapiers on board—a matter for regret—we +must perforce use our revolvers. I suggest only that +we both examine each other's weapon—if, monsieur, +you are agreeable to this?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly. I for one should desire it." The +words and suggestion in themselves were sufficiently +insulting, without the added note of distrust that less +sensitive ears than Dubosc's would have heard without +difficulty. +</p> + +<p> +He glanced for a moment at his antagonist out of +narrowed eyelids, and then turned sharply as the +engineer came striding along the deck. +</p> + +<p> +In a few words, and with Bessington listening +keenly, he explained the position, while the other, a +short wiry man, with a hawk-like face and shifty +eyes, listened in complete silence. At the end, he +nodded. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Bien</i>," he said at last. "Both gentlemen may +rely on me and Jean there to keep a silence on the +matter, for our own sakes also. You would wish for +us to be witnesses to this, <i>mon capitaine</i>?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly. And as this gentleman is without a +friend of his own on deck and as he knows—or thinks +he knows—with what kind of men he has to deal, I +should wish him to search you both that he may feel +confident he has only one automatic against him. You +are agreeable to this, Monsieur le Colonel?" +</p> + +<p> +"It is certainly fair," he conceded. "Though it may +not be necessary." +</p> + +<p> +"And you two, you agree?" By this the other man +had come up and his friend explained matters in a +few words. They both laughed good-humouredly. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Ma foi</i>, yes!" said Marcel. "The English monsieur +is very welcome to search us both. It is, after +all, but natural." +</p> + +<p> +The search was thereupon made and Bessington +turned to his adversary. +</p> + +<p> +"I am satisfied," he said. "It will be one shot only, +I suppose, Monsieur Dubosc?" +</p> + +<p> +"If that is your desire, yes." +</p> + +<p> +"It is," was the reply. "I also suggest that instead +of the usual twelve paces, we stand—you at one end, +I at the other. It will, I imagine, be more difficult +to commit murder—if either of us is so minded—at +that distance." +</p> + +<p> +"Perfectly," replied Dubosc, without a sign of fear +or doubt in his tone. And yet, knowing the other's +reputation as a crack shot, he was fully aware of the +fact that Colonel Bessington did indeed contemplate +murder, for at such a distance between them, none +but an expert could hope to achieve success. "And, +monsieur, supposing that we both miss, which at +such a distance is not difficult of accomplishment, +what then?" +</p> + +<p> +"Then I propose one more shot apiece. There is no +other course." +</p> + +<p> +"I am content," replied the Frenchman, with a +bow, and once more he turned to his men. "You, +Marcel, will stand in the centre of the boat and give +the signal. Jean, you shall keep a watch, for of +course we are in the direct line of passing vessels, and +this kind of thing—" he shrugged, "well, you know +as well as I that unpleasant things might happen if +it were seen." +</p> + +<p> +"I understand, <i>mon capitaine</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"You, Marcel, will hold this stick in your hand, +and will count six, and at the sixth count you will +drop this stick sharply on deck. On which we, who +have our backs turned to each other, will turn and +fire. Is that not so, Monsieur le Colonel?" +</p> + +<p> +"Agreed," was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +"If I fall, <i>mon ami</i>," continued Dubosc, "you will +understand that it is in fair fight, and you will +continue on your journey with this gentleman as though +nothing had occurred." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, <i>mon capitaine</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"If, on the other hand, I am so lucky as to kill this +gentleman, I will give you my orders as to what you +must do. If—for we must consider every possibility—we +are both wounded, you will return to my chateau +as quickly as possible. But if this gentleman is +as good a shot as I hear he is, then one of us or even +both may die, in which case I should recommend that +you have a quick burial service at sea and return +home, advise Madame to sell all immediately, and +then to disappear, in case questions should be asked +and suspicions aroused. You understand?" +</p> + +<p> +"I understand, <i>mon capitaine</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"Good. Then, monsieur, here is my weapon, do +me the honour of examining it and allow me to do +the same with yours." +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke, Dubosc handed his automatic to +Bessington. The Englishman did the same. Each +examined the other's weapon carefully and minutely +and at once returned them, Dubosc with a low bow. +</p> + +<p> +"We are ready, Marcel," he said, and walked to +the stern of the boat while Bessington retired to the +bows. +</p> + +<p> +Absolute stillness on board save for the gentle lap +of waves against the scarcely-moving craft. Jean, +looking out across the sea, was also silent, for even +the ceaseless song had died on his lips. While Marcel, +the engineer, stick in hand, stood amidships on the +port side, the two duellists at either end, both with +their backs facing each other. +</p> + +<p> +And down below, locked fast in the saloon, +Dominic Arden, ignorant of what was taking place on +deck, sat on the couch leaning forward, his face buried +in his hands and in his sightless eyes the vision of +a woman's face, the one thing only in all the world +that he could visualize clearly, and picture so vividly +that it was to him as if he were actually looking into +her face. +</p> + +<p> +And so he sat immovable, until suddenly, and without +warning, the throbbing of the engines ceased, he +heard voices overhead, the sound of footsteps, a +silence, and then the gruff tones of Marcel's voice +counting slowly. What did it mean? Why had they +stopped? +</p> + +<p> +And then two shots rang out in quick succession—the +sound of a heavy fall, and he sprang to his feet +and listened breathlessly. Once more there came the +sound of hurrying steps above—shouts—but he could +not distinguish what was said. What had happened? +Had they been pursued by a Government Customs +boat? Or—and here a sudden wild hope leapt within +him—had those two, who had seemed before they +left him, none too friendly, been quarrelling? Had +Antoine, that queer, fiery, and yet altogether lovable +creature, forced a duel on the other? Was that his +reason for bidding him have courage before they +started on this hateful journey? He had said, "Trust +me, all will be well." Was that prophecy to be made +good at the end of an automatic? Not murder? +No, that was unthinkable, and, besides, there had +been two shots. It was a duel, therefore, and +Bessington—good God! Bessington was the finest +revolver shot in Europe, and not knowing of his intent +he had not warned Antoine of this in time. And yet +he had heard his friend refer to it, so perhaps he +knew, but if he really knew how good a shot the +other was, would he have risked a duel? No sane man +would unless he was wishful to commit suicide and +lacked the courage to draw the trigger himself. And +Antoine had no wish to die. +</p> + +<p> +What then was the meaning of those two shots +and that heavy fall? Who lay dead up there on +deck? Antoine or Bessington? Was it difficult to +guess, after all? And if Antoine— +</p> + +<p> +"My God!" groaned the wretched man, and flung +himself on to the seat once more, waiting in helpless +agony for what should come. Would the waiting +never end? +</p> + +<p> +Footsteps at last. Whose? Antoine's or Bessington's? +Oh, for one little moment of sight to enable +him to see when the door opened, who should come +in. His bitter enemy, or his only friend? +</p> + +<p> +And presently someone was fumbling with the +lock. The key turned at last—the door was flung +open, and the next instant he felt himself folded in a +warm embrace, and a kiss—a man's kiss—upon his +cheek. It was only a Frenchman who would do +that, and only one Frenchman who would do it to him. +</p> + +<p> +So that it needed no words, nor yet the sound of +his voice to tell him that Antoine Dubosc stood there, +holding both his hands as though he would never let +them go. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, <i>mon brave</i>! <i>Mon ami</i>! <i>Mon bien cher ami</i>, +all is well, all is over, and you are free once more. +He—that sacred pig of an Englishman—is no more, and +it is I, Antoine, who has shot him. We had words—he +insult me. I allow no man to insult me, and I +challenge him therefore. We fight and—he lies there +on deck, and in a short time we return home. <i>V'la</i>! +What have you to say to that, old son?" +</p> + +<p> +Dominic staggered to his feet. +</p> + +<p> +"He is dead, you say?" he repeated in a dazed +voice. +</p> + +<p> +"Quite. Most completely dead, my friend, and it +is I—Antoine Dubosc—who killed him." +</p> + +<p> +"But, good God! Antoine, old man, he was +counted the finest revolver shot in Europe." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Bien</i>, I believe you. Then I, your friend, must be +the finest in the world!" He laughed. "But, to be +serious, it was no doubt the reason why he suggest +for the far distance between us, in order to kill me, +you understand, in fact, to murder! Ah, but it did +not come off this time, for as it happen he missed, and +I—I who very often miss, I did not do so now. No +doubt it is the good God who direct the bullet. That +is all. I go up now to bury him." +</p> + +<p> +"Bury him?" repeated Dominic, hoarsely. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Mais, pour sur</i>. We do not want to carry a dead +man back with us I think. We bury him decently +here, and who is the wiser? Until the sea give up +her dead, Monsieur le Colonel Bessington will not be +seen again, and neither—I believe most truly—will +he be missed. If a search is made, it will be made, +but one cannot be accused of killing a man if that +man's dead body is not found. <i>Enfin</i>, when all is +said and done he is best dead, so now—to business. +Stay you quiet, <i>mon ami</i>, we shall soon be home, and +perhaps, though you are not a Catholic—more the +pity—it would not hurt you to say a prayer for his +soul. For, truly, <i>mon gars</i>, he was a brave man—if +for nothing else than to have ventured alone on this +boat. But, of course, it is as you please. I go now." +</p> + +<p> +And on the deck above, while a body wrapped in +canvas and weighted at the feet was being gently +lowered into the sea by two sailors, Antoine Dubosc, +leaning over the rail, was also preparing an act of +interment. First, he took from his pocket his own +weapon, for which now he would have no further use, +and which might tell a tale that he would prefer kept +a secret for ever, and dropped it in the sea. And from +the other pocket he took the weapon that had once +belonged to Richard Bessington, and that also found +its watery grave. +</p> + +<p> +It was better so, he considered, with a shrug, for +things have an odd way of coming to light, and he +did not want anyone, far less Dominic Arden, to +know that from the first weapon there were two +shots missing, and that the second was fully loaded. +</p> + +<p> +Only Marcel and Jean (who had politely offered +to commit the crime themselves) could know that +two shots had been fired before ever the stick was +dropped, and that one of those shots had entered +Colonel Bessington's heart through the back. +</p> + +<p> +Murder, if you will—once more he shrugged—but +the man Bessington had contemplated murder, +and his own—Dubosc's—first shot had missed. Also +was it not the dead man's own favourite maxim that +to do evil that good might result was, after all, +merely common sense? <i>Enfin</i>, he was dead and could +therefore create no more trouble. And so, after all, +what did it matter? So long as his poor friend did +not know the truth, all was well. +</p> + +<p> +"That is," he added aloud and with another +eloquent shrug, "unless the body of M'sieur le Boss +should take upon itself to become disengaged from +its sacking and lead weight and float inconveniently +to land. A possibility which you should do well to +contemplate, Antoine, my friend, and make preparations +for—otherwise—" Here he passed his lean +fingers suggestively round his neck—and started as a +hand was laid on his arm. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! Devil take you, Marcel! I did not hear you," +he cried, as he swung round to find the man standing +beside him. "What is it?" +</p> + +<p> +"I heard you speaking, Master. I thought it was +to me," was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah no. It was but to myself. I was considering +that this, after all, may not be the end of the story, +and that there may be another, and one of much +excitement and interest for us and our friends, to +follow." +</p> + +<p> +The man, not understanding, smiled and shook +his head. "In an hour we shall be home, Master," +he said, and Dubosc grinned. +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly, my friend. In an hour we shall be +home once more. That, for the moment, is all that +matters." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap24"></a></p> + +<h2> +CHAPTER XXIV +<br><br> +THE END OF A JOURNEY +</h2> + +<p> +They were three very weary travellers who alighted +from the automobile which had driven them the +seven miles from the largest and nearest town to the +Chateau St. Michel. It was quite dark when at length +these three, Hermione, Iza, and Frank Daneham, +stood outside the front door and the latter rang the +bell. For the driver had not known his way to this +more or less lonely part of the coast, and the three +travellers were unable to help him. +</p> + +<p> +Were they in time or were they not? That was +the question which had rung ceaselessly in +Hermione's thoughts during the latter part of the +journey. And if they were, what was going to happen? +What would be the result? +</p> + +<p> +Frank Daneham had put his foot down against a +journey by air, for neither of the two women had +ever tried that experience, and, in Hermione's nervous +state, he wisely thought that it would be better—for +her—to arrive late than in a state of collapse +through air sickness, as was more than likely to +happen in her case. Moreover, he did not think they +would be too late, for even if the boat arrived that +evening, it was a hundred chances to one that they +would not set out on a return journey until the +following morning. +</p> + +<p> +Anyway, they were here, and apparently likely to +be kept waiting on the doorstep indefinitely, for he +had rung twice and still there was no answer to their +summons. +</p> + +<p> +"I expect that young smuggler man is afraid we +are the police," was Iza's comment. "Why the deuce +don't he have a peep from one of those windows? No +one in their senses would take me for a policeman, +surely." +</p> + +<p> +"It would certainly be difficult," replied Frank, +smiling. +</p> + +<p> +And then the door was opened, a light overhead +flashed on, and a manservant stood in the opening. +</p> + +<p> +"Monsieur desire?" he began, casting a quick +glance over the three. +</p> + +<p> +"I believe Monsieur Dubosc lives here," said +Frank Daneham. "If I am right, would you take +these three cards and ask him if he will see us on +a matter of great importance?" +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke, he held out his own, Hermione's and +Iza's cards, and on that of Hermione the name +Rodenberg had been crossed out and that of Arden +substituted. +</p> + +<p> +The man looked at them and hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +"You are from England?" he asked quickly. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, my good man," struck in Iza, who spoke +French fluently. "We are from England and come +over specially to see Monsieur Dubosc on a very +grave and urgent matter. Will you also mention +the fact that it is a private matter—between friends, +you understand." +</p> + +<p> +A look of intense relief came to the man's face at +the last words. "I will tell Madame, the master is +out," he replied, and once more closed the door. +</p> + +<p> +"One cannot blame such caution, in the +circumstances," commented Iza Marsh. "Buck up, my +dear child. If your boy had gone there wouldn't be +all this fuss and precaution." +</p> + +<p> +"That's my opinion, too," agreed Frank. But +Hermione only smiled at them, anxiety had long +ago rendered her beyond speech. +</p> + +<p> +Five minutes passed, an interminable five minutes, +and then the door swung violently open, but this time +it was not the servant who stood there, but a +dark-haired, white-faced and very excited woman. She +gave one look at Hermione's face. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! <i>Mon Dieu!</i>" she cried, for it was the face +she had seen so many times on an old faded photograph. +"It is she at last! <i>Entre, mesdames, enter, +monsieur</i>, I ask your pardon for the delay, but, no +doubt you will understand that it is sometimes a +necessity, and Monsieur Dubosc, he is not here at the +moment." +</p> + +<p> +As she spoke she drew aside for the others to enter, +and directly they had done so she slammed to +the door. +</p> + +<p> +Frank Daneham turned to her instantly. +</p> + +<p> +"Madame Dubosc," he said, sharply. "Tell me +quickly, is there a man called Bessington here, +Colonel Bessington? I know he was coming here, so +we hurried off to try and intercept him." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, <i>mais non</i>," she cried. "The Colonel he has +been here, but he is here no longer. He has +departed these two hours or more." +</p> + +<p> +And at that there was a cry from Hermione, who +put her hand to her face and swayed suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +"No, no!" she cried brokenly. "Not that! Don't +tell me he has gone!" +</p> + +<p> +The Frenchwoman, quick of understanding, put an +arm about her. +</p> + +<p> +"Imbecile that I am!" she cried, a great compassion +in her voice. "He has gone, but he has gone +alone, Madame Arden. He has gone—so my—my +husband tells me, to the South of France for a long +stay, and because he has no wish to return to his +country just now. There is nothing to fear. Your +husband he is with us, quite—quite safe." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank God! Oh, thank God!" cried Hermione, +and she took Leonie's hand in hers and held it. "Tell +me about it, Madame Dubosc. You guessed we +were coming? You knew about everything?" +</p> + +<p> +"All there is to know, madame," was the reply. +"And I did indeed think that perhaps you might +come, or that other who was with the Colonel when +they caught my—husband. For he told me that he +was much distressed, that one, at what his friend was +doing. But the good God knows that I am glad it +is you, madame; who have come—at last." +</p> + +<p> +"It's not her fault, Madame Dubosc," put in Iza, +quickly, "that she was not here eight years ago. +But to me, the whole thing is a complete mystery, +and if you know all about it, then all I can say is +that we are not so lucky. There's a good deal we +want to know and have come here to find out." +</p> + +<p> +"All in good time, madame," replied Leonie, with +a friendly smile. "I understand how you feel, and +probably what you think, which is, no doubt, very +far from the truth. But now that you are here we +can explain everything." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, but you don't understand," cried Hermione, +eagerly. "You don't know everything either. I only +heard that he was alive and where he lived two days +ago. Until then I had believed him dead. And then +when I heard the truth and knew that Colonel +Bessington had come for him, I was nearly mad with +fear. Are you sure, quite sure that he has gone? +That my husband is safe?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not only that he has gone, but that he has gone +for good," replied Leonie. "After what he found +here he said there was nothing more for him to do, +but that he would not return to his country. Perhaps +you, madame, may guess why. So, there is nothing +to fear and nothing to reproach yourself with. For +if you did not know, then you could not have come." +</p> + +<p> +"But since Dominic Arden is alive," here interrupted +Frank Daneham, "and apparently living in +luxury and contentment with good friends, surely it +is strange that he did not even write to his wife who +was mourning him for dead. Surely it is strange that +he did not make any attempt to find her." +</p> + +<p> +"Surely it seems so," replied the Frenchwoman, +with a queer smile on her face, "very strange, and +will remain strange until you understand why. +Remember that Colonel Bessington came here to take +him back to punishment and what he called justice. +And when he had seen him—he goes away alone. +Perhaps that is also what Madame his wife will do +when she sees him, and if she does, <i>ma foi!</i> he will +not reproach her." +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean?" There was a note of sudden +terror in Hermione's voice, and she clutched +Leonie's arm. "What has happened? Tell me at once. +Remember that I am his wife, and that I love him, +just as I loved him when he left me nine years ago. +You are terrifying me, madame. Tell me, I implore +you." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Pauvre enfant.</i>" The elder woman took the +clutching hand and patted it gently. "I did not +understand. But you will have to know, and it is best +for you to know from me. That poor boy, who still +worships you in his heart, and to whom life without +you is one long torment, remains here with us, apart +from you, not only because he fears to return to his +own country, and so involve you in his troubles, but +because he will not spoil your life by being tied to a +blind husband. That is why, madame." +</p> + +<p> +"Blind!" Hermione repeated the word as though +some invisible hand were strangling her throat. "My +boy blind! Dominic blind! Oh, my God!" She put +her hands to her head and swayed suddenly, and the +next instant Frank Daneham had an arm about her +and had lowered her into a chair. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>La pauvre petite!</i>" said Leonie, compassionately. +"It is a very terrible thing, I know, but surely, +madame, it is better than that he is dead." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh no. Not for him! I am only thinking of +him—not my self," cried Hermione, bitterly. "He +loved life so. He loved everything that he saw, +sound was nothing to him. Sight everything. Tell +me, madame, how is it that he is blind?" +</p> + +<p> +"For seven years he has been so. One day, perhaps, +he will tell you, but he has forbidden us to +speak of it, and so I cannot do so, it is understood." +</p> + +<p> +"But I don't understand, madame," exclaimed +Daneham. "He was reported dead, his body was +found. How was it that the mistake happened?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, that was simple, and so easy to happen in a +war of such horrors. When he went out of the cottage +after killing that man—for which I do not blame +him, I—he meant to die, to be killed. But, as often +happens when one wants to die on the battlefield, one +remains alive, or one is merely wounded. It is those +who do not wish to die who are killed. So it was +with him. He was wounded, and he knew that meant +that he would be shot when he recovered. He was +alone at the time, lost I think, and he tumbled over a +dead body. The man was of his own build, but the +head—Ah, <i>mon Dieu</i>! There was no head, monsieur. +He, Dominic, was dazed, sick, but he kept his +senses, and it was then that the idea arrived. That +if he could not die, he might change places with one +who had more fortunately achieved death. He +changed into the dead man's uniform and everything +that could identify him. After which he had little +strength left, but enough to crawl away—as he +thought—to his own lines. But what he did was to +crawl instead into a German prison camp, and the +rest you know. From the first I took to him as to a +brother. <i>Enfin</i>, my friends, he recovered his health, +and he is now a writer of some distinction. That is +his one happiness. He dictates his stories and I +write them down—a ray of light in his darkness. +He is becoming famous, but he hides his fame under +another name. But he will tell you all that when you +see him. And then it will be for you, madame, to +write for him—and for me—ah! <i>mon Dieu</i>! To +regret that I can no longer make my poor hands ache +for him. That I can no longer be his eyes—" There +were great tears in her own now, and the next instant +Hermione had folded her in her arms. +</p> + +<p> +Frank Daneham and Iza turned and walked abruptly +to the window where the plump woman stood +dabbing her eyes and seeing nothing. But outside +on the lighted terrace, Frank saw two figures, both +those of young men, though the hair of one of them +was grey at the temples. They were talking together, +one seeming to be arguing, the other protesting; +finally, the one who argued appeared to gain his +point, for he took the arm of the grey-haired man +and turning, drew him towards the door. And once +more, after nine long years, Frank Daneham looked +upon the face of Dominic Arden, and a burning lump +welled up into his throat as he saw the unmistakeable +signs of suffering on his worn face. +</p> + +<p> +They came slowly along the terrace, and presently +their steps sounded in the outer hall. Then Leonie +put Hermione gently from her, and walking briskly +up to Daneham and Iza, took them each by an arm. +</p> + +<p> +"This way, if you please, madame and monsieur," +she said, leading them towards a door. "There is +much that I would tell you and show you, though I +trust that you will make a long stay with us. Come." +</p> + +<p> +And that is why there were none to hear the man's +cry as he stood alone in the great hall, and none to +see the look of pity, love, and joy that came to the +woman's eyes as she saw him. +</p> + +<p> +"Hermione!" The cry was that of a child calling +to the one being in all the world whom he knows will +help him, the cry of a lost soul to its mate. And the +next instant the two were locked in each other's arms. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +"It has," said Antoine Dubosc, as he walked slowly +beside Frank Daneham, "been a task of the most +arduous since the moment we knew his wife was here, +to persuade him to go back with her to his home. +These unselfish people, you know, <i>mon cher</i>, are very +selfish after all. But finally I persuaded him, +I—Antoine Dubosc—for I have a way of persuasion +which is not to be resisted." +</p> + +<p> +"Not, I trust, in the same manner that you +persuaded me to keep quiet on that most memorable +night, Monsieur Dubosc?" said Daneham, with a +smile. +</p> + +<p> +The young man flung up his head and burst into a +gay laugh. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, to be sure, no, monsieur, I did not drug him +with dope, but with the genius of my tongue, my +words of infinite wisdom. And neither will it be +necessary to drug anyone else for the same reason, +for I, monsieur, have done with contraband. The +final cargo of contraband that I shall do myself the +honour to take to your country and dump there will +be my poor friend and his most beautiful wife. And +in future years, monsieur, my boat shall only be used +for conveying Leonie and myself to my friend's +home, which will be on occasions of the most frequent. +</p> + +<p> +"But enough of that. I am glad you reminded me, +monsieur, of what I did to you, for recognizing you +when I saw you again, I had not the face—you call +it—to refer to the subject, or to apologize as I should +have liked. But to show you that I am penitent, +permit that I offer you the same brandy that you drank +that night. And to show that you, in turn, bear no +malice, be brave enough, monsieur, to do me the +honour of drinking it." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm hanged if I won't risk it," said Frank +Daneham, with a hearty laugh. +</p> + +<p> +But as they turned towards the dining-room, Frank +Daneham put a question to his companion. +</p> + +<p> +"You told me," he said, "that Colonel Bessington, +when he saw the true state of affairs, remembered +that he was an Englishman and a gentleman and took +himself off. You also told me that he was not +returning to England. Do you know where he has +gone?" +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Helas, mon ami</i>," was the reply, which was +accompanied by an expressive shrug. "I am not in a +position to tell you where exactly he has gone, +though, perhaps, without much strain on my +imagination, I might guess. <i>Enfin</i>, he has gone upon a +long journey, having—so I understood—nothing for +which to return to his own country. He has no +relations I take it?" +</p> + +<p> +"A brother, I believe, in India." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! A brother. Perhaps he goes to join him, +perhaps not. But in any case he will, you understand, +be no more trouble to us." +</p> + +<p> +"But when he returns, what then? Crosby will +make no trouble, of course, for I shall explain +everything to him at once. But what of Bessington, when +he returns?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! When—or if—he returns!" Again the +young man shrugged. "I, for one, monsieur, do not +think he will, and the wish, you understand, is father +to the thought." And here, once more, he drew his +long fingers caressingly round his neck. +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +THE END +</p> + +<p><br><br><br><br></p> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78899 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78899-h/images/img-cover.jpg b/78899-h/images/img-cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0572879 --- /dev/null +++ b/78899-h/images/img-cover.jpg |
