At the moment that I saw Hayle enter my room, you might, as the saying goes, have knocked me down with a feather. Of all that could possibly have happened, this was surely the most unexpected! The man had endeavoured to get me out of his way in London, he had played all sorts of tricks upon me in order to put me off the scent, he had bolted from England because he knew I was searching for him, yet here he was deliberately seeking me out, and of his own free will putting his head into the lion's mouth. It was as astounding as it was inexplicable.
"Good morning, Mr. Fairfax," he said, bowing most politely to me as he spoke. "I hope you will forgive this early call. I only discovered your address an hour ago, and as I did not wish to run the risk of losing you I came on at once."
"You appeared to be fairly desirous of doing so last week," I said. "What has occurred to make you change your mind so suddenly?"
"A variety of circumstances have conspired to bring such a result about," he answered. "I have been thinking the matter over, and not being able to determine the benefit of this hole-and-corner sort of game, I have made up my mind to settle it once and for all."
"I am glad you have come to that way of thinking," I said. "It will save us both an infinity of trouble. You understand, of course, that I represent Messrs. Kitwater and Codd."
"I am well aware of it," he replied, "and in common fairness to yourself, I can only say that I am sorry to hear it."
"May I ask why you are sorry?"
"Because you have the honour to represent the biggest pair of scoundrels unhung," he answered. "And in saying this, I pledge you my word that I am by no means overstepping the mark. I have known them both for a great many years and can therefore speak from experience."
Before going further with him I was desirous of convincing myself upon one point.
"You knew them, then, when they were missionaries in China, I suppose?"
"That's the first time I have ever heard what they were," he replied. "Kitwater a missionary! You must forgive my laughing, but the idea is too ludicrous. I'll admit he's done a considerable amount of converting, but it has been converting other people's money into his own pockets."
He laughed at his own bad joke, and almost instantly grew serious once more. He was quite at his ease, and, though he must have known that I was familiar with the story, or supposed story of his villainy, seemed in no way ashamed.
"Now, Mr. Fairfax," he went on, "I know that you are surprised to see me this morning, but I don't think you will be when we have had a little talk together. First and foremost you have been told the story of the stones I possess?"
"I have heard Mr. Kitwater's version of it," I answered cautiously. "I know that you robbed my clients of them and then disappeared!"
"I did notrobthem of the stones," he said, not in the least offended by the bluntness of my speech. "It is plain that you do not know how we obtained them. Perhaps it's as well that you should not, for there's more behind, and you'd go and get them. No! We obtained them honestly enough at a certain place, and I was appointed to carry them. For this reason I secured them in a belt about my waist. That night the Chinese came down upon us and made us prisoners. They murdered our two native servants, blinded Kitwater, and cut out Codd's tongue. I alone managed to effect my escape. Leaving my two companions for dead, I managed to get away into the jungle. Good Heavens! man, you can't imagine what I suffered after that."
I looked at him and saw that his face had grown pale at the mere recollection of his experiences.
"At last I reached the British outpost of Nampoung, on the Burmah-Chinese border, where the officers took me in and played the part of the good Samaritan. When I was well enough to travel, I made my way down to Rangoon, where, still believing my late companions to be dead, I shipped for England."
"As Mr. George Bertram," I said quietly. "Why under an assumed name when, according to your story, you had nothing to fear?"
"Because I had good and sufficient reason for so doing," he replied. "You must remember that I had a quarter of a million's worth of precious stones in my possession, and, well, to put it bluntly, up to that time I had been living what you might call a make-shift sort of life. For the future I told myself I was going to be a rich man. That being so I wanted to start with a clean sheet. You can scarcely blame me!"
I did not answer him on this point, but continued my cross-examination.
"You reached London, and sold some of the stones there, later on you disposed of some more in Amsterdam. Why did you refuse the dealers your name and address?"
Once more he was quite equal to the occasion.
"Because if I had told them, everybody would have got to know it, and, to be perfectly frank with you, I could not feel quite certain that Kitwater and Codd were really dead."
"By that I am to presume that you intended if possible to swindle them out of their share?" I asked, not a little surprised by his admission.
"Once more, to be quite frank with you, I did. I have no desire to be rude, but I rather fancy you would have done the same had you been similarly situated. I never was much of a success in the moral business."
I could well believe this, but I did not tell him so.
"When did you first become aware that they were in London?"
"On the day that they landed," he answered. "I watched every ship that came in from Rangoon, and at last had the doubtful satisfaction of seeing my two old friends pass out of the dock-gates. Poor beggars, they had indeed had a hard time of it."
"Then you could pity them? Even while you were robbing them?"
"Why not," he answered. "There was no reason because I had the stones that I should not feel sorry for the pain they had suffered. I had to remember how near I'd been to it myself."
This speech sounded very pretty though somewhat illogical.
"And pray how did you know that they had called in my assistance?"
"Because I kept my eyes on them. I know Mr. Kitwater of old, you see. I watched them go into your office and come out from a shop on the other side of the street."
The whole mystery was now explained. What an amount of trouble I should have been spared had I only known this before?
"You did not approve then of my being imported into the case?"
"I distinctly disapproved," he answered. "I know your reputation, of course, and I began to see that if you took up their case for them I should in all probability have to climb down."
"It is doubtless for that reason you called upon me, representing yourself to be Mr. Bayley, Managing Director of that South American Mining Company? I can now quite understand your motive. You wanted to get me out of the way in order that I might not hunt you? Is that not so?"
"You hit the nail upon the head exactly. But you were virtuous, and would not swallow the bait. It would have simplified matters from my point of view if you had. I should not have been compelled to waste my money upon those two roughs, nor would you have spent an exceedingly uncomfortable quarter of an hour in that doorway in Holywell street."
This was news indeed. So he had been aware of my presence there? I put the question to him.
"Oh! Yes! I knew you were there," he said with a laugh. "And I can tell you I did not like the situation one bit. As a matter of fact I found that it required all my nerve to pretend that I did not know it. Every moment I expected you to come out and speak to me. I can assure you the failure of my plot was no end of a disappointment to me. I had expected to see the men I had sent after you, and instead I found you myself."
"Upon my word, Mr. Hayle, if I cannot appreciate your actions I must say I admire your candour. I can also add that in a fairly long experience of—of----"
"Why not sayof criminalsat once, Mr. Fairfax?" he asked with a smile. "I assure you I shall not be offended. We have both our own views on this question, and you of course are entitled to air yours if it pleases you. You were about to observe that----"
"That in all my experience I had never met any one who could so calmly own to an attempt to murder a fellow-being. But supposing we now come to business."
"With all my heart," he answered. "I am as anxious as yourself to get everything settled. You will admit that it is rather hard lines on a man who can lay his hands upon a quarter of a million of money, to have a gentleman like yourself upon his trail, and, instead of being able to enjoy himself, to be compelled to remain continually in hiding. I am an individual who likes to make the most of his life. I also enjoy the society of my fellow-men."
"May we not substitute 'woman'?" I asked. "I am afraid your quarter of a million would not last very long if you had much to do with Mademoiselle Beaumarais."
"So you have heard of her, have you?" he answered. "But you need have no fear. Dog does not eat dog, and that charming lady will not despoil me of very much! Now to another matter! What amount do you think your clients would feel inclined to take in full settlement of their claim upon me?"
"I cannot say," I answered. "How many of the gems have you realized upon?"
"There were ninety-three originally," he said when he had consulted his pocket-book, "and I have sold sixty, which leaves a balance of thirty-three, all of which are better than any I have yet disposed of. Will your clients be prepared to accept fifty thousand pounds, of course, given without prejudice."
"Your generosity amazes me," I answered. "My clients, your partners, are to take twenty-five thousand pounds apiece, while you get off, scot-free, after your treatment of them, with two hundred thousand."
"They may consider themselves lucky to get anything at all," he retorted. "Run your eye over the case, and see how it stands. You must know as well as I do that they haven't a leg to stand upon. If I wanted to be nasty, I should say let them prove that they have a right to the stones. They can't call in the assistance of the law----"
"Why not?"
"Because to get even with me it would be necessary for them to make certain incriminating admissions, and to call certain evidence that would entail caustic remarks from a learned judge, and would not improbably lead to a charge of murder being preferred against them. No, Mr. Fairfax, I know my own business, and, what is better, I know theirs. If they like to take fifty thousand pounds, and will retire into obscurity upon it, I will pay it to them, always through you. But I won't see either of them, and I won't pay a halfpenny more than I have offered."
"You don't mean to tell me that you are in earnest?"
"I am quite in earnest," he answered. "I never was more so. Will you place my offer before them, or will you not?"
"I will write and also wire them to-day," I said. "But I think I know exactly what they will say."
"Point out the applicability of the moral concerning the bird in the hand. If they don't take what they can get now, the time may come when there may be nothing at all. I never was a very patient man, and I can assure you most confidentially, that I am about tired of this game."
"But how am I to know that this is not another trick on your part, and that you won't be clearing out of Paris within a few hours? I should present a sorry picture if my clients were to accept your generous offer, and I had to inform them that you were not on hand to back it up."
"Oh, you needn't be afraid about that," he said with a laugh. "I am not going to bilk you. Provided you play fair by me, I will guarantee to do the same by you. With the advantages I at present enjoy, I am naturally most anxious to know that I can move about Europe unmolested. Besides, you can have me watched, and so make sure of me. There is that beautiful myrmidon of yours, who is so assiduously making love to Mademoiselle Beaumarais's maid. Give him the work."
I was more than surprised to find that he knew about this business. He saw it, and uttered one of his peculiar laughs.
"He didn't think I knew it," he said. "But I did! His cleverness is a little too marked. He overacts his parts, and even Shakespeare will tell you how foolish a proceeding that is. If you doubt my word concerning my stay in Paris, let him continue to watch me. You know where I am living, and for that reason you can come and see me whenever you like. As a proof of my sincerity, may I suggest that you give me the pleasure of your company at dinner to-night. Oh, you needn't be afraid. I'm not a Cæsar Borgia. I shall not poison your meat, and your wine will not be drugged. It will be rather a unique experience, detective and criminal dining together, will it not? What do you say?"
The opportunity was so novel, that I decided to embrace it. Why should I not do so since it was a very good excuse for keeping my man in sight? He could scarcely play me any tricks at a fashionable restaurant, and I was certainly curious to study another side of this man's complex character. I accordingly accepted his invitation, and promised to meet him at the well-known restaurant he named that evening.
"In the meantime you will telegraph to your clients, I suppose," he said. "You may be able to give me their reply this evening when we meet."
"I shall hope to be in a position to do so," I answered, after which he bade me good-bye, and picking up his hat and stick left the room.
"Well," I said to myself when I was alone once more, "this is the most extraordinary case upon which I have ever been engaged. My respect for Mr. Hayle's readiness of resource, to say nothing of his impudence, is increasing by leaps and bounds. The man is not to be met every day who can rob his partners of upwards of a hundred and seventy thousand pounds, and then invite the detective who is sent after him to a friendly dinner."
I sat down and wrote a letter to Miss Kitwater, telling her all that had occurred; then went out to despatch it with a telegram to Kitwater himself, informing him of the offer Hayle had made. I could guess the paroxysm of rage into which it would throw him, and I would willingly have spared his niece the pain such an exhibition must cause her. I could see no other way out of it, however. The message having been despatched, I settled myself down to wait for a reply, with all the patience I could command. In my own mind I knew very well what it would be. It was not so much the money that Kitwater wanted, as revenge. That Hayle's most miserable offer would only increase his desire for it, I felt certain. Shortly after three o'clock, the reply arrived. It was short, and to the point, and ran as follows—
"Tell him I will have all or nothing."
Here was a nice position for a man to find himself in. Instead of solving the difficulty we had only increased it. I wondered what Hayle would say when he heard the news, and what his next step would be. That he would endeavour to bolt again, I felt quite certain. It was a point in my favour, however, that he would not know until the evening what Kitwater's decision was, so I felt I had still some time to arrange my plan of action. Of one thing I was quite determined, and that was that he should be watched day and night from that minute, but not by Mr. Dickson. That worthy I bade return to England, and his rage on discovering that Mademoiselle Beaumarais's maid had tricked him, would have been amusing to witness, had the principal event in which I was most concerned not been so grave. The expressions he used about her were certainly far from being complimentary.
Feeling that I must have other assistance, I set off for my friend Leglosse's residence. I had the good fortune to meet him by theconcierge'slodge, and we ascended the stairs to his rooms together.
"I have come to ask you to do me a favour," I said, when we were seated in his sitting-room.
"A thousand favours if you wish,cher ami," the old fellow replied. "Tell me how I can have the pleasure of serving you."
"I want you to lend me one of your men for a few days," I said. "I have to send my own man back to England, and I am afraid the gentleman we were discussing last night may give me the slip in the meantime if I'm not careful."
The better to enable him to appreciate the position, I furnished him with a brief summary of the case upon which I was engaged.
"And so you are to dine with your prisoner to-night?" he remarked, with one of his quiet chuckles. "That is droll—very droll. It is very good for you that it is at such a place, or I should have my doubts as to the rascal's intentions. But you are well able to take care of yourself, my friend; that I know."
"And the man?"
"You shall have him. You shall have half-a-dozen if you like. I am only too pleased to be able to help in such a good work. You shall have Pierre Lepallard, my right-hand. I cannot give you a better. Nothing escapes Pierre, and he is discreet, oh, yes, my friend, he is discreet. He will not obtrude himself, but he will know all that your friend does, to whom he speaks, what he said to him, and sometimes even what he intends doing before he does it."
"In that case he is just the man for me," I replied. "I am exceedingly obliged to you for your considerate courtesy. Some day I may be able to repay it."
Within half-an-hour the estimable Lepallard had been made acquainted with his duties, and within an hour a ragged tatterdemalion of a man was selling matches on the opposite side of the road to that on which Hayle's apartments were situated.
I reached the restaurant at which we were to dine that evening punctual to the moment, only to find that Hayle had not yet arrived. For a minute I was tempted to wonder whether he had given me the slip again, but while the thought was passing through my mind a cab drove up, and the gentleman himself alighted.
"I must beg your pardon for keeping you waiting," he said apologetically. "As your host I should have been here first. That would have been the case had I not been detained at the last moment by an old friend. Pray forgive me!"
I consented to do so, and we entered the restaurant together.
I discovered that he had already engaged a table, arranged themenu, and bespoken the wines. We accordingly sat down, and the strangest meal of which I had ever partaken commenced. Less than a week before, the man sitting in front of me had endeavoured to bring about my destruction; now he was my host, and to all outward appearances my friend as well. I found him a most agreeable companion, a witty conversationalist, and a bornraconteur. He seemed to have visited every part of the known globe; had been a sailor, a revolutionist in South America, a blackbirder in the Pacific, had seen something of what he called the "Pig-tail trade" to Borneo, some very queer life in India, that is to say, in the comparatively unknown native states and had come within an ace of having been shot by the French during the war in Madagascar.
"In point of fact," he said, "I may say that I have travelled from Dan to Beersheba, and, until I struck this present vein of good fortune, had found all barren. Some day, if I can summon up sufficient courage, I shall fit out an expedition and return to the place whence the stones came, and get some more, but not just at present. Events have been a little too exciting there of late to let us consider it a healthy country. By the way, have you heard from our friend, Kitwater, yet?"
"I have," I answered, "and his reply is by no means satisfactory."
"I understand you to mean that he will not entertain my offer?"
I nodded my head.
"He must have 'all or nothing,' he declares. That is the wording of the telegram I received."
"Well, he knows his own affairs best. The difference is a large one, and will materially affect his income. Will you take Crême de Minthe—Kümmel or Cognac?"
"Cognac, thank you," I replied, and that was the end of the matter.
During the remainder of the evening not another word was said upon the subject. We chatted upon a variety of topics, but neither the matter of the precious stones nor even Kitwater's name was once mentioned. I could not help fancying, however, that the man was considerably disappointed at the non-acceptance of his preposterous offer. He had made a move on the board, and had lost it. I knew him well enough, however, by this time to feel sure that he by no means despaired yet of winning the game. Men of Gideon Hayle's stamp are hard to beat.
"Now," he said, when we had smoked our cigarettes, and after he had consulted his watch, "The night is still young. What do you say if we pay a visit to a theatre—the Hippodrome, for instance. We might wile away an hour there very pleasantly if you feel so disposed."
I willingly consented, and we accordingly left the restaurant. Once we were in the street Hayle called a cab, gave the man his instructions, and we entered it. Chatting pleasantly, and still smoking, we passed along the brilliantly illuminated Boulevards. I bestowed little, if any, attention on the direction in which we were proceeding. Indeed, it would have been difficult to have done so for never during the evening had Hayle been so agreeable. A more charming companion no man could have desired. It was only on chancing to look out of the window that that I discovered that we were no longer in the gaily-lighted thoroughfares, but were entering another and dingier part of the town.
"What is the matter with the driver?" I asked. "Doesn't he know what he is about? This is not the way to the Hippodrome! He must have misunderstood what you said to him. Shall I hail him and point out his mistake?"
"No, I don't think it is necessary for you to do that," he replied. "Doubtless he will be on the right track in a few minutes. He probably thinks if he gives us a longer ride, he will be able to charge a proportionately larger fare at the end. The Parisian cabby is very like his London brother."
He then proceeded to describe to me an exceedingly funny adventure that had fallen him once in Chicago. The recital lasted some minutes, and all the time we were still pursuing our way in a direction exactly opposite to that which I knew we should be following. At last I could stand it no longer.
"The man's obviously an idiot," I said, "and I am going to tell him so."
"I shouldn't do that, Mr. Fairfax," said Hayle in a different voice to that in which he had previously addressed me. "I had my own reasons for not telling you before, but the matter has already been arranged. The man is only carrying out his instructions."
"What do you mean by already arranged?" I asked, not without some alarm.
"I mean that you are my prisoner, Mr. Fairfax," he said. "You see, you are rather a difficult person to deal with, if I must pay you such a compliment, and one has to adopt heroic measures in order to cope with you."
"Then you've been humbugging me all this time," I cried; "but you've let the cat out of the bag a little too soon. I think I'll bid you good-bye."
"IN HIS HAND HE HELD A REVOLVER."
"IN HIS HAND HE HELD A REVOLVER."
I was about to rise from my seat and open the door, but he stopped me. In his hand he held a revolver, the muzzle of which was in unpleasant proximity to my head.
"I must ask you to be good enough to sit down," he said. "You had better do so, for you cannot help yourself. If you attempt to make a fuss I pledge you my word I shall shoot you, let the consequences to myself be what they may. You know me, and you can see that I am desperate. My offer to those men was only a bluff. I wanted to quiet any suspicions you might have in order that I might get you into my hands. As you can see for yourself, I could not have succeeded better than I have done. I give you my word that you shall not be hurt, provided that you do not attempt to escape or to call for help. If you do, then you know exactly what you may expect, and you will have only yourself to blame. Be a sensible man, and give in to the inevitable."
He held too many cards for me. I could see at a glance that I was out-manoeuvred, and that there was nothing to be gained by a struggle. I don't think I can be accused of cowardice; my reputation is too well known for that. But I do decidedly object to being shot by a desperate man, when there is not the least necessity for it.
"Very well," I said, lying back in my seat, "you have played your game with your usual cleverness, and I suppose I deserve what I have got for having been such a consummate idiot as to give you the opportunity you wanted. Now, what are you going to do, and where are you going to take me?"
"You will know everything in a few minutes," he answered. "In the meantime I am glad to see that you take things so sensibly. In after days you will laugh over this little incident."
"Whatever I may think in the future," I replied, "just at present it is confoundedly unpleasant."
Ten minutes later the cab came to a standstill, there was the sound of opening gates, and a moment later we drove into a stone-paved courtyard.
If you could have travelled the world at that moment, from north to south, and from east to west, I believe you would have found it difficult to discover a man who felt as foolish as I did when I entered the gloomy dwelling-place as Hayle's prisoner. To say that I was mortified by the advantage he had obtained over me would not express my feelings in the least. To think that I, George Fairfax, who had the reputation of being so difficult a man to trick, should have allowed myself to fall into such a palpable trap, seemed sufficiently incredible as to be almost a matter for laughter rather than rage. There was worse, however, behind. Miss Kitwater had been so trustful of my capability for bringing the matter to a successful conclusion, that I dared not imagine what she would think of me now. Whichever way I looked at it, it was obvious that Hayle must score. On the one side, he kept me locked up while he not only made his escape from Paris, but by so doing cut off every chance of my pursuing him afterwards; on the other, he might console himself with the almost certain knowledge that I should be discredited by those who had put their trust in me. How could it very well be otherwise? I had committed the criminal folly of accepting hospitality from the enemy, and from that moment I should not be seen. The natural supposition would be that I had been bought, and that I was not only taking no further interest in the case, but that I was keeping out of the way of those who did. To add to my misery, I could easily imagine the laugh that would go up on the other side of the Channel when the trick that had been played upon me became known. But having so much else to think of, that fact, you may be sure, did not trouble me very much. There were two things, however, about which I was particularly anxious; one was to set myself right with Miss Kitwater, and the other was to get even, at any cost, with Hayle. The first seemed the more difficult.
It must not be supposed that when I had alighted from the carriage I had given up all hope of escape. On the contrary, had it not been for the presence of three burly fellows, who immediately took up their places beside me, I fancy I should have made a dash for liberty. Under the circumstances, however, to have attempted such a thing would have been the height of folly. Five to one, that is to say, if I include the coachman in the number, with the gates closed behind me, were too long odds, and however hard I might have fought, I could not possibly have been successful.
"Perhaps you will be kind enough to step into the house," said Hayle. "The air is cold out here, and I am afraid lest you might take a chill."
Before complying with his order I looked round me once more to see if there was any chance of escape. But so far as I could see there was not one. I accordingly followed one of my captors into the building, the remainder bringing up the rear.
From what I could see of the house with the help of the light from a solitary candle hanging in a sconce upon the wall, it had once been a handsome building. Now, however, it had fallen sadly to decay. The ceiling of the hall had at one time been richly painted, but now only blurred traces of the design remained. Crossing the hall, my guide opened a door at the further end. In obedience to a request from Hayle, I entered this room, to find myself standing in a fine apartment, so far as size went, but sadly lacking in comfort where its furniture was concerned. There was a bed, a table, three rough chairs, and an entirely inadequate square of carpet upon the floor. I have already said that it was a large room, and when I add that it was lighted only by two candles, which stood upon the table in the centre, some idea will be afforded of its general dreariness.
"Now look here, Mr. Hayle," I said, "the time has come for us to have a serious talk together. You know as well as I do that in kidnapping me you are laying yourself open to very serious consequences. If you think that by so doing you are going to prevent me from eventually running you to earth, you are very much mistaken. You have obtained a temporary advantage over me, I will admit; but that advantage will not last. Do not flatter yourself that it will."
"I am not so sure upon that point," said Hayle, lighting a cigarette as he spoke. "If I did not think so I should not have gone to all this trouble and expense. But why make such a fuss about it? You must surely understand, Mr. Fairfax, that your profession necessarily entails risks. This is one of them. You have been paid to become my enemy. I had no personal quarrel with you. You can scarcely blame me, therefore, if I retaliate when I have an opportunity. I don't know what you may think of it, but the mere fact of you dining with me to-night is very likely to go hard with you, so far as your clients are concerned. Would it be a good advertisement for the famous George Fairfax to have it known that, while he was taking his clients' money he was dining pleasantly in Paris with the man they were paying him to find? I laid my trap for you, but I must confess that I had not very much faith in its success. Your experience should have made you more wary. A student of human character, such as you are, should know that the leopard cannot change his spots, or the tiger his----"
"If you continue in this strain much longer," I said, "I'll endeavour to stop your tongue, whatever it may cost me. Now, either let me out, or get out of the room yourself. I want to see no more of you while I am in this house."
He blew a cloud of smoke, and then said nonchalantly—
"You had better occupy yourself thanking your stars that you are let off so easily. At one time I was tempted to have you put out of the way altogether. I am not quite certain it wouldn't be safer, even now. It could be done so easily, and no one would be any the wiser. I know two men now in Paris who would gladly run the risk for the sake of the ill-will they bear you. I must think it over."
"Then think it over on the other side of that door," I said angrily. "Play the same traitorous trick on me as you did on Kitwater and Codd if you like, but you shall not stay in the same room with me now."
My reference to Kitwater and Codd must have touched him on a raw spot, for he winced, and then tried to bluff it off.
"I rather fancy Messrs. Kitwater and Codd will just have such kindly things to say concerning you in the future as they do about me now," he said, as he moved towards the door. "And now I will wish you good-bye. As I leave Paris almost immediately, I don't suppose I shall have the pleasure of seeing you again. For your own sake I should advise you to be quiet. I might tell you once and for all that you can't get out. The door is a stout one, and the windows are exceptionally well barred. The men to whom I have assigned the duty of looking after you are in their way honest, though a little rough. Moreover, they are aware that their own safety depends to a very great extent upon your not getting out. Believe me, if you do not know already, that there is nothing like fear for making a good watch-dog. Farewell, friend Fairfax! You have been instrumental in sending a good many men into durance vile; you can tell me later how you like being there yourself."
With that he went out, shutting the door behind him. I heard the key turn in the lock, and a bolt shot at top and bottom. I thereupon went to the window and examined it, only to discover that it was made secure on the outside by large iron bars. So far as I could see, there was no other way of escape from the room.
Though I laid down on the bed I did not sleep; my thoughts would not permit of that. The face of the woman who had trusted me so profoundly was before me continually, gazing at me with sweet reproachful eyes. Oh! what a fool I had been to accept that rascal's invitation! The more I thought of it, the angrier I became with myself. Now, goodness only knew how long I should be confined in this wretched place, and what would happen during my absence from the world!
At last the dawn broke, and with it, a weird sickly light penetrated the room. I sprang from my bed and approached the window, only to find that it overlooked a small courtyard, the latter being stoneflagged and surrounded by high walls. I could see that, even if I were able to squeeze my way out between the bars, I should be powerless to scale the walls. At a rough guess these were at least twelve feet high, and without a foothold of any sort or description. This being so I was completely at the mercy of the men in the house. Indeed, a rat caught in a trap, was never more firmly laid by the heels than I. At about half-past seven o'clock a small trap-door, which I had not noticed near the ground and the main door, was opened, and a grimy hand made its way in and placed upon the floor a cup of coffee and a roll. Then it was closed once more and made secure. I drank the coffee and munched the roll, and, if the truth must be confessed, poor as they were felt the better for both.
At mid-day a bowl of miserable soup was handed in; darkness, however, had fallen some considerable time before I could detect any sound in the hall outside that might be taken to mean the coming of my evening meal. At last there was a clatter of feet, the bolts shot back, the key turned in the lock, and the door opened. A man carrying a lantern entered, followed by two others, and as the light fell upon his face, I uttered a cry of astonishment, for he was none other than my old friend Leglosse, while behind him was the infallible Lepallard.
"Well, thank goodness we have found you at last," cried Leglosse. "We have had such a hunt for you as man never dreamed of. I called at your apartments late last night, hoping to see you, on important business, but you had not returned from a dinner to which you had been invited. I called again this morning and was informed by theconciergethat they had, up to that moment, seen nothing of you. When the good Lepallard informed me that you had left the restaurant in a cab with Monsieur Hayle, and that the latter had returned to his apartments this morning in a great hurry, only to leave them a short time after with his luggage, for the railway station, I began to grow uneasy. You have no idea what a day I have had looking for you, but it has been well spent, since we have the pleasure of seeing you again."
"I shall be grateful to you all my life for the service you have rendered me," I replied. "But how did you manage to gain admittance to this house?"
"It was quite easy; the birds had flown," he answered. "Has the suspicion not struck you that they were going to clear out and leave you here to starve?"
"The brutes," I answered. "But I'll be even with their leader yet. And now let us get away from here as quickly as possible. Have you any idea where our man has gone?"
"To Naples," Lepallard replied. "I disguised myself as a pompous old bourgeois, and I was behind him when he asked for his ticket and distinctly heard what he said."
"Then I shall go after him at once," I replied. "He will in all probability be off his guard. He will imagine me to be still locked up in this room, you see."
"And I shall accompany you, if you will permit me," said Leglosse.
"But why?" I asked in surprise. "What have you got to do with him? You have no case against him, and you cannot spare the time to do it simply out of kindness to me."
"It's not kindness, it's business, my friend," he replied. "You may not believe it, but I have a warrant for your man's arrest."
"On what charge?"
"On a charge of being concerned in a big embezzlement in Cochin China," he answered. "We laid the other two men by the heels at the time, but the Englishman, who was the prime mover in it, we have never been able to lay our hands upon. I felt certain that day when I met him in Amsterdam, that I had seen him somewhere before. Ever since then I have been puzzling my brains to discover where it was, and why it was so familiar to me. A photograph was eventually sent us of the Englishman by the colonial authorities, but in that photograph he, the person I suspect, wears a beard and a heavy moustache. It is the same man, however, and the description, even to the mark upon the face, exactly tallies with Hayle. Now I think I can help you to obtain a rather unique revenge upon the man, that is to say, if you want it. From what you have so far told me, I understand that you have no evidence against him strong enough to justify the issue of a warrant. Well, I have that evidence, and between us you may be sure we'll bring him back to Paris."
This was delightful hearing after all we had been through lately; at any rate I greeted the prospect of Leglosse's co-operation with acclamation. It would be hard, if between us we could not find Hayle and bring him to the justice he so richly deserved.
"Now let us get out of this," I said. "I must obtain something to eat if I perish in the attempt. I am well nigh starving. A basin of soup, a roll and a cup of coffee, are all that I have had to-day."
"You shall dine at once," he answered, "and here. There is an excellent little restaurant further down the street, and one of my men shall go there and tell them to bring you up a meal. After that you shall go home and change your costume, and then we will arrange what shall be done about the travelling."
This programme was carried out to the letter. We made a good meal, at least I know that I did, and when it was eaten, a cab was procured, and in company with Leglosse I said good-bye to the house in which I had spent so short a time, yet in which I had been so miserable.
"I shall never know how to repay you for your kindness," I said to my companion as we drove down the street. "Had it not been for you and your men I should now be starving in that wretched place. I'll certainly forgive Hayle if he is ever successful enough to take me in again by one of his rascally tricks."
"You must not let him do that," returned the Frenchman, shaking his head. "Our reputations are at stake."
When I reached my own apartments theconciergewas much relieved to see me. She had been told that I was dead, perhaps murdered, and Leglosse's visit to find me had not helped to reassure her. A packet of letters and telegrams was handed to me, which I carried up to my room, to read them while I was changing my attire. Never before had I been so glad to get out of a dress-suit.
I had just finished my toilet and was in the act of commencing the packing of the bag I intended taking with me, when there was a tap at the door. I opened it, to find theconciergethere.
"There is a lady in the parlor to see Monsieur," she said. "She has a maid with her."
"A lady to see me?" I asked incredulously. "Who on earth can she be?"
Theconciergeshook her head. In my own mind I had arrived at the conclusion that it was Mademoiselle Beaumarais, and that Hayle had sent her to discover, if possible, whether I had escaped from my confinement or not. On finding out that I had she would telegraph to him, and once more he would be placed on his guard. At first I felt almost inclined not to see her, but on second thoughts I saw the folly of this proceeding. I accordingly entered the room where the lady was awaiting me. The light was not very good, but it was sufficient for me to see two figures standing by the window.
"To what am I indebted for the honour of this visit, mademoiselles?" I began.
"Don't you know me, Mr. Fairfax?" the taller of them answered. "You forget your friends very quickly."
"Miss Kitwater?" I cried, "what does this mean?"
"It is a long story," she answered, "but I feel sure that you will have time to hear it now. I am in terrible trouble."
"I am indeed sorry to hear that," I answered, and then glanced at her maid as if to inquire whether it was safe to speak before her. She interpreted the look correctly and nodded her head.
"Yes, Mr. Fairfax," she said, "you can say what you please before Nelly."
"Then am I right in interpreting your trouble as being connected with your uncle?" I asked.
"Yes, that is it," she answered. "You have guessed correctly. Do you know that he and Mr. Codd have disappeared?"
"Disappeared?" I repeated. "Have you any idea where they have disappeared to?"
"No, but I can hazard a very shrewd guess," she replied. "I believe they have crossed to Paris in search of Mr. Hayle. Since last Sunday my uncle had been more depressed than ever, while the paroxysms of rage to which he is so subject, have been even more frequent than ever. If the truth must be told, I fear his troubles have turned his brain, for he talks to himself in such a queer way, and asks every few minutes if I have received news from you, that I cannot help thinking his mind is not what it should be. You must understand that on Saturday last, thinking it might possibly be required for the case, I drew a large sum of money from the bank; more than a hundred pounds, in fact. I securely locked it up in my writing-table, and thought no one knew anything about it. Yesterday afternoon my uncle and Mr. Codd went for a walk, and did not return, though I waited for them for several hours. While I was thus waiting I opened the drawer in the writing-table to procure something I wanted, and discovered that the money was missing. Only one construction could be placed upon it, Mr. Fairfax. They had wearied of their inactive life, and had set off in search of Hayle."
"They are aware of his address in Paris, are they not?"
"Yes, my uncle repeated it from morning until night," she answered. "In point of fact, he did little else. Oh! it terrifies me beyond measure to think what may happen should they meet."
"You need not fear that," I replied. "Hayle has tired of Paris and has bolted again. Very probably to a place where they cannot hope to find him."
I believe she said "God be thanked" under her breath, but I am not quite certain upon that point. I did not tell her of the trick Hayle had so lately played upon myself. If the telling were necessary it would be able to come later on.
"May I ask what brought you to Paris, Miss Kitwater?" I inquired, after a pause.
"My great fear," she answered. "I wired to you from Charing Cross to say that I was coming. Did you not receive my message?"
I remember the fact that, not having time to open them all before I was called away, I had put some of the telegrams on one side. As ill luck would have it, Miss Kitwater's must have been amongst these. I explained that I had been away from the house all day, and only that moment returned.
"I felt," she said, ignoring my excuses, "that I must come to you and tell you all that has transpired. Also that I might implore you to keep the men apart at any cost."
"We can easily find out whether they have arrived in Paris, and also whether they have been to Hayle's apartments," I said. "That would certainly be one of the places which they would try first."
While I was speaking there was the sound of a step in the corridor outside and next moment Leglosse entered the room. He was in the highest spirits, as he always was when he was about to undertake a new piece of work. Seeing that I had visitors he came to a sudden standstill.
"A thousand pardons," he said in French. "I had no idea that you were engaged. I will wait outside."
"Don't do anything of the kind," I returned in the same language. "Come in and let me introduce you to Miss Kitwater, who has just arrived from England."
"Miss Kitwater?" he repeated, in some surprise. "Surely I understood you to say that your client, the gentleman who had lost his sight through Hayle's treachery, was Monsieur Kitwater?"
"That is quite right, and this lady is his niece," I returned. "She has brought me extraordinary intelligence. Her uncle and his companion have suddenly disappeared from the little village in Surrey, where they have been staying some time with her. It is her belief that they have come to Paris in search of Hayle. There would have been trouble had they met, but fortunately for them, and for Hayle, he has given them the slip once more. It would be possible for you to find out whether they arrived by this morning's train, and also whether they have made inquiries at Hayle's apartments, would it not?"
"Quite possible," he answered. "It shall be done at once. I will let you know in less than an hour what I have discovered."
I thanked him, whereupon he bowed to Miss Kitwater, and then disappeared.
"Monsieur Leglosse is also in pursuit of Hayle," I explained. "He holds a warrant for his arrest on a charge of embezzlement in Cochin China. For that reason we are following him to Naples to-morrow morning."
"To Naples. Has the wretched man gone there?"
"So we have been led to believe," I answered.
"Then do you think my uncle will find it out and follow him?" she asked, wringing her hands. "Oh! it is all too terrible. What shall I do?"
"Well, if I might be allowed to be like David Copperfield's Mr. Dick, I should be practical, and say 'dine'! I suppose you have had nothing to eat since you left England?"
She gave a little wan smile.
"We have not had very much, certainly," she answered. "Poor Nelly, you must be nearly starving."
The maid, however, protested that she was not; but was not to be denied. Bidding them remain where they were, I went down-stairs and interviewed my faithful friend, theconcierge. With her I arranged that Miss Kitwater and her maid should be provided with rooms in the house for that night, and having done so went on to the nearest restaurant. In something less than ten minutes all was settled, and in under twenty they were seated at their meal. At first the girl would not sit down with her mistress, but with her usual thoughtfulness, Miss Kitwater ordered her to do so.
"And now, Mr. Fairfax," she said, when they had finished, "we must discover a hotel where we can stay the night. At present we know of no place in which to lay our heads."
"You need not trouble about that," I said, "I have already arranged that you shall have rooms in this house if you care to occupy them. The old lady to whom it belongs is a particular friend of mine, and will certainly do her best to make you comfortable. I presume that it was your bag I saw in theconcierge'soffice, when I was there just now?"
"We left it there," she answered, and then gave me my reward by adding—"It is very kind of you, Mr. Fairfax to have taken so much trouble. I cannot thank you sufficiently."
"You must not thank me at all," I replied. "In helping you I am only doing my duty to my client."
I had scarcely said the words before I regretted them. It was a foolish speech and a churlish one as well. She pretended not to notice it, however, but bade her maid go down to theconcierge'soffice, and take the bag to the room that had been allotted to her. The girl disappeared, and when she had gone Miss Kitwater turned to me.
"Mr. Fairfax," she said, "I have yet another favour to ask of you. I assure you it concerns me vitally. I want to know if you will let me go with you to Naples. In order that I might not be in your way, we might travel in different compartments; but go I must. I am so frightened about my uncle. If I follow him to Naples, it is just possible I might be able to dissuade him from pursuing Hayle. If he were to kill me for preventing them, I would not let them meet. Believe me when I say that I am terribly anxious about him. Besides----"
Here she paused for a moment as if she did not quite know how to continue what she had to say to me.
"As I have said, you and Monsieur ---- I mean the French gentleman—could travel in your own way. All that I want to be assured of is, that I may be in Naples and at hand should anything happen."
"If you really wish it, I do not see why you should not go?" I replied meditatively. "But if you desire my candid opinion I must say that I think you would be far better off at home. Still if you desire to come, it's not for me to gainsay your wishes. We will arrange therefore that, unless you decide to the contrary in the meantime, you accompany us by the 8.50 train to-morrow morning."
"I thank you," she said.
A few moments later Leglosse returned with the information that it was as we suspected. Kitwater and Codd had arrived in Paris that morning, and had visited Hayle's lodgings only to find him gone.
"What is more important still," he continued, "they have managed to learn that Hayle had gone to Naples, and they will probably leave by the 2.50 train to-morrow morning for that city: It is as well, perhaps, that we arranged to travel by the next."
"Courage, courage, Miss Kitwater," I said, seeing that she was trembling. "Try not to be frightened. There is nothing to fear." Then turning to Leglosse, I added—"Miss Kitwater has decided to accompany us to Naples. As a matter of fact my position in the case has undergone a change since I last saw you."
He looked from one to the other of us as if in astonishment.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Hitherto," I replied, "I have been acting against Hayle, with the intention of securing him, in order that my clients might have a most important meeting with him. For the future, however, my endeavours will be used in the contrary direction. They must never meet!"
"Then the best way to bring about what you desire is to assist me," returned Leglosse. "Let me once get my hand upon him in the name of France, and they will never meet."
"But we have to catch him before we do that," I said.
"Never-fear, we will do it," he answered confidently, and that seemed to settle it.
Next morning at 8.50, we left Paris for Naples.