Early on the following morning I moved back to my rooms in the Milan Court. Curiously enough I entered the building with a sense of depression for which I could not account. I went first to my own rooms and glanced at my letters. There was nothing there of importance. In other words, there was nothing from Felicia. I descended to the fifth floor and knocked at the door of her room. As I stood there waiting I was absolutely certain that somehow or other a change had occurred in the situation, that the freeness of my intercourse with Felicia was about to be interfered with. I was not in the least surprised when the door was at last cautiously opened, and a woman who was a perfect stranger to me stood on the threshold, with the handle of the door still in her hand.
"I should like to see Miss Delora," I said. "My name is Captain Rotherby."
The woman shook her head. She was apparently French, and of the middle-class. She was dressed in black, her eyes and eyebrows were black, she had even the shadow of a moustache upon her upper lip. To me her appearance was singularly forbidding.
"Miss Delora cannot see you," she answered, with a strong foreign accent.
"Will you be so good as to inquire if that is so?" I answered. "I have an appointment with Miss Delora for this morning, and a motor-car waiting to take her out."
"Miss Delora cannot receive you," answered the woman, almost as though she had not heard, and closed the door in my face.
There was nothing left for me but to go down and interview my friend the hall-porter. I commenced my inquiries with the usual question.
"Any news of Mr. Delora, Ashley?" I asked.
"None at all, sir," the man replied. "A companion has arrived for Miss Delora."
"So I have discovered for myself," I answered. "Do you know anything about her, Ashley?"
The man shook his head.
"She arrived here yesterday afternoon," he said, "with a trunk. She went straight up to Miss Delora's room, and I have not seen them apart since."
"Do they come down to the café?" I asked.
"So far, sir," the man answered, "they have had everything served in their sitting-room."
I went back to my room and rang up number 157. The voice which answered me was the voice of the woman who had denied me admission to the room.
"I wish to speak to Miss Delora," I said.
"Miss Delora is engaged," was the abrupt answer.
"Nonsense!" I answered. "I insist upon speaking to her. Tell her that it is Captain Rotherby, and she will come to the telephone."
There was a little whirr, but no answer. The person at the other end had rung off. By this time I was getting angry. In five minutes time I rang up again. The same voice answered me.
"Look here," I said, "if you do not let me speak to Miss Delora, I shall ring up every five minutes during the day!"
"Monsieur can do as he pleases," was the answer. "I shall lay the receiver upon the table. It will not be possible to get connected."
"Do, if you like," I answered, "but how about when Mr. Delora rings you up?"
The woman muttered something which I did not catch. A moment afterwards, however, her voice grew clear.
"That is not your business," she said sharply.
I tried to continue the conversation, but in vain. Nothing came from the other end but silence. I busied myself for a time glancing at a few unimportant letters, and afterwards descended to lunch in the café. I fancied, for a moment, that Louis' self-possession was less perfect than usual. He certainly showed some surprise when he saw me, and he came to my table with a little less alacrity.
"Louis," I said, "I shall order my lunch from some one else, not from you."
"Monsieur has lost confidence?" he asked.
"Not in your judgment, Louis," I answered.
Louis looked me straight in the eyes. It was not a practice which he often indulged in.
"Captain Rotherby," he said, "you should be on our side. It would not be necessary then to interfere with any of your plans."
He looked at me meaningly, and I understood.
"It is you, Louis, I presume, whom I have to thank for the lady upstairs?" I remarked.
Louis shrugged his shoulders.
"Why do you seek the man Delora?" he asked. "What concern is it of yours? If you persist, the consequences are inevitable."
"If you will take the trouble to convince me, Louis,—" I said.
Louis interrupted me; it was unlike him. His little gesture showed that he was very nearly angry.
"Monsieur," he said, "sometimes you fail to realize that at a word from us the hand of the gendarme is upon your shoulder. We would make use of your aid gladly, but it must be on our terms—not yours."
"State them, Louis," I said.
"We will tell you the truth," Louis answered slowly. "You shall understand the whole business. You shall understand why Delora is forced to lie hidden here in London, what it is that he is aiming at. When you know everything, you can be an ally if you will. On the other hand, if you disapprove, you swear upon your honor as a gentleman—an English gentleman—that no word of the knowledge which you have gained shall pass your lips!"
"Louis," I said, "I will have my lunch and think about this."
Louis departed with his customary smile and bow. I ordered something cold from the sideboard within sight, and a bottle of wine which was opened before me. There scarcely remained any doubt in my mind now but that some part of Delora's business, at any rate, in this country, was criminal. Louis' manner, his emphatic stipulation, made it a matter of certainty. Again I found myself confronted by the torturing thought that if this were so Felicia could scarcely be altogether innocent. Once when Louis passed me I stopped him.
"Louis," I said, "let me ask you this. Presuming things remain as they are, and I act independently, do you intend to prevent my seeing Miss Delora?"
"It is nothing to do with me," Louis lied. "It is the wish of her uncle."
"Thank you!" I answered. "I wanted to know."
I finished my luncheon. Louis saw me preparing to depart and came up to me. My table was set in a somewhat obscure corner, and we were practically alone.
"I will ask you a question, Louis," I said. "There is no reason why you should not answer it. There are laws from a legal point of view, and laws from a moral point. From the former, I realize that I am, at this moment, a criminal—possibly, as you say, in your power. Let that pass. What I want you to tell me is this,—the undertaking in which Mr. Delora is now engaged, is it from a legal point of view a criminal one, or is it merely a matter needing secrecy from other reasons?"
Louis stood thoughtfully silent for some few moments.
"Monsieur," he said at last, "I will not hide the truth from you. According to the law in this country Mr. Delora is engaged in a conspiracy."
"Political?" I asked.
"No!" Louis answered. "A conspiracy which is to make him and all others who are concerned in it wealthy for life."
"But the Deloras are already rich," I remarked.
"Our friend," Louis said, "has speculated. He has lost large sums. Besides, he loves adventures. What shall you answer, Captain Rotherby?"
"It is war, Louis," I said. "You should know that. If I have to pay the penalty for taking the law into my hands over the man Tapilow, I am ready to answer at any time. As for you and Delora, and the others of you, whoever they may be, it will be war with you also, if you will. I intend, for the sake of the little girl upstairs, to solve all this mystery, to take her away from it if I can."
Louis' eyes had narrowed. The look in his face was almost enough to make one afraid.
"It is a pity," he said. "Even if you had chosen to remain neutral—"
"I should not do that unless I could see as much of Miss Delora as I chose," I interrupted.
"If that were arranged," Louis said slowly,—"mind, I make no promises,—but I say if that were arranged, would it be understood between us that you stopped your search for Mr. Delora, and abandoned all your inquiries?"
"No, Louis," I answered, "unless I were convinced that Miss Delora herself was implicated in these things. Then you could all go to the devil for anything I cared!"
"Your interest," Louis murmured, "is in the young lady, then?"
"Absolutely and entirely," I answered. "Notwithstanding what you have told me, and what I have surmised, the fact that you stood by me in Paris would be sufficient to make me shrug my shoulders and pass on. I am no policeman, and I would leave the work of exposing Delora to those whose business it is. But you see I have an idea of my own, Louis. I believe that Miss Delora is innocent of any knowledge of wrong-doing. That I remain here is for her sake. If I try to discover what is going on, it is also for her sake!"
"Monsieur has sentiment," Louis remarked, showing his teeth.
"Too much by far, Louis," I answered. "Never mind, we all have our weak spots. Some day or other somebody may even put their finger upon yours, Louis."
He smiled.
"Why not, monsieur?" he said.
In my rooms a surprise awaited me. Felicia was there, walking nervously up and down my little sitting-room She stopped short as I entered and came swiftly towards me. In the joy of seeing her so unexpectedly I would have taken her into my arms, but she shrank back.
"Felicia!" I exclaimed. "How did you come here?"
"Madame Müller went down for lunch," Felicia answered. "I said that I had a headache, and stole up here on the chance of seeing you."
"They are making a prisoner of you!" I exclaimed.
"It is your fault," she answered.
I looked at her in surprise. Her face was stained with tears. Her voice shook with nervousness.
"You have been making secret inquiries about my uncle," she said. "You have been seen talking to those who wish him ill."
"How do you know this, Felicia?" I asked calmly.
"Oh, I know!" she answered. "They have told me."
"Who?" I asked. "Who has told you?"
"Never mind," she answered, wringing her hands. "I know. It is enough. Capitaine Rotherby, I have come to ask you something."
"Please go on," I said.
"I want you to go away. I do not wish you to interest yourself any more in me or in any of us."
"Do you mean that, Felicia?" I asked.
"I mean it," she answered. "My uncle has a great mission to carry out here. You are making it more difficult for him."
"Felicia," I said, "I do not trust your uncle. I do not believe in his great mission. I think that you yourself are deceived."
She held her head up. Her eyes flashed angrily.
"As to that," she said, "I am the best judge. If my uncle is an adventurer, I am his niece. I am one with him. Please understand that. It seems to me that you are working against him, thinking that you are helping me. That is a mistake."
"Felicia," I said, "give me a little more of your confidence, and the rest will be easy."
"What is it that you wish to know?" she asked.
"For one thing," I answered, "tell me when your uncle left South America and when he arrived in Paris?"
"He had been in Paris ten days when you saw us first," she said, after a moment's hesitation.
"And are you sure that he came to you from South America?" I demanded.
"Certainly!" she answered.
"To me," I said slowly, "he seems to have the manners of a Parisian. Two months ago I lunched at Henry's with some old friends. Can you tell me, Felicia, that he was not in Paris then?"
"Of course not!" she answered, shivering a little.
"Then he has a wonderful double," I declared.
"What is this that is in your mind about him?" she asked.
"I believe," I answered, "that he is personating some one, or rather I have believed it. I believe that he is personating some one else, and is afraid of being recognized by those who know."
"Will it satisfy you," she said slowly, "if I tell you, upon my honor, Capitaine Rotherby, that he is indeed my uncle?"
"I should believe you, Felicia," I answered. "I should then feel disposed to give the whole affair up as insoluble."
"That is just what I want you to do," she said. "Now, listen. I tell you this upon my honor. He is my uncle, and his name is truly Delora!"
"Then why does he leave you here alone and skulk about from hiding-place to hiding-place like a criminal?" I asked.
"It is not your business to ask those questions," she answered. "I have told you the truth. Will you do as I ask or not?"
I hesitated for a moment. She was driving me back into a corner!
"Felicia," I said, "I must do as you ask me. If you tell me to go away, I will go away; but do you think it is quite kind to leave me so mystified? For instance," I added slowly, "on the night when that beast Louis planned to knock that young Brazilian on the head, and leave me to bear the brunt of it; he was up here talking to you, alone, as though you were equals."
"It is my uncle who makes use of Louis," she said.
"I'm hanged if I can see how he can make use of a fellow like that if his business is an honest one," I answered.
"It is not for you to understand," she answered. "You are not a policeman. You are not concerned in these things."
"I am concerned in you!" I answered passionately. "Felicia, you drive me almost wild when you talk like this. You know very well that it is not curiosity which has made me set my teeth, and swear that I will discover the truth of these things. It is because I see you implicated in them, because I believe in you, Felicia, because I love you!"
She was in my arms for one long, delicious moment. Then she tore herself away.
"You mean it, Austen?" she whispered.
"I mean it!" I answered solemnly. "Felicia, I think you know that I mean it!"
"Then you must be patient," she said, "for just a little time. You must wait until my uncle has finished his business. It will take a very short time now. Then you may come and call again, and remind us of your brother. You will understand everything then, and I believe that you will be still willing to ask us down to your country home."
"And if I am, Felicia?" I asked.
"We shall come," she murmured. "You know that. Good-bye, Austen! I must fly. If Madame Müller finds that I have left the room I shall be a prisoner for a week."
I opened the door. Even then I would have kept her, if only for a moment; but just as I bent down we heard the sound of footsteps outside, and she hurried away. I sat down and lit a cigarette. So it was over, then, my little attempt at espionage! My word was pledged. I could do no more.
I walked round to Claridge's later in the evening and saw my brother.
"Ralph," I said, "if your offer of the shooting is still good, I think I will take a few men down to Feltham."
"Do, Austen," he answered. "Old Heggs will be ever so pleased. It seems a shame not to have a gun upon the place. I shall come down myself later on. What about those people, the Deloras?"
"The uncle is away," I answered, "and the girl cannot very well come by herself. Perhaps we may see something of them later on."
Ralph looked at me a little curiously, but he made no remark.
"You won't be lonely up here alone?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"I have plenty to do," he answered. "I shall probably be down myself before the end of the month. Whom shall you ask?"
I made a list of a few of the men whom I knew, and who I believed were still in town, but when I sat down to write to them I felt curiously reluctant to commit myself to staying at Feltham. Even if I were not to interfere, even if I were to stand aside while the game was being played, I could not believe that the scheming of Louis and the acquiescence of Felicia went for the same thing, and I had an uncomfortable but a very persistent conviction to the effect that she was being deceived. Everything from her point of view seemed reasonable enough. What she had told me, even, seemed almost to preclude the fear of any wrong-doing. Yet I could not escape from the conviction of it. Some way or other there was trouble brewing, either between Delora and Louis, or Delora and the arbiters of right and wrong. In the end I wrote to no one. I determined to go down alone, to shoot zealously from early in the morning till late at night, but to have no house-party at Feltham,—to invite a few of the neighbors, and to be free myself to depart for London any time, at a moment's notice. It would come! somehow or other I felt sure of it. I should receive a summons from her, and I must be prepared at any moment to come to her aid.
I went into the club after I had left Claridge's, and stayed playing bridge till unusually late. It was early in the morning when I reached the Milan, and the hotel had that dimly lit, somewhat sepulchral appearance which seems to possess a large building at that hour in the morning. As I stood for a moment inside the main doors, four men stepped out of the lift on my right, carrying a long wooden chest. They slunk away into the shadows on tiptoe. I watched them curiously.
"What is that?" I asked the reception clerk who was on duty.
He shrugged his shoulders.
"It was a man who died here the day before yesterday," he whispered in my ear.
"Died here?" I repeated. "Why are they taking his coffin down at such an hour?"
"It is always done," the man assured me. "In hotels such as this, where all is life and gayety, our clients do not care to be reminded of such an ugly thing as death. Half the people on that floor would have left if they had known that the dead body of a man has been lying there. We keep these things very secret. The coffin has been taken to the undertaker's. The funeral will be from there."
"Who is the man?" I asked. "Had he been ill long?"
The clerk shook his head.
"He was a Frenchman," he said; "Bartot was his name. He had an apoplectic stroke in the café one day last week, and since then complications set in."
I turned away with a little shiver. It was not pleasant to reflect upon—this man's death!
Before I was up the next morning I was informed that Fritz was waiting outside the door of my room. I had him shown in, and he stood respectfully by my bedside.
"Sir," he said, "I have once more discovered Mr. Delora."
"Fritz," I answered, "you are a genius! Tell me where he is?"
"He is at a small private hotel in Bloomsbury," Fritz declared. "It is really a boarding-house, frequented by Australians and Colonials. The number is 17, and the street is Montague Street."
I sat up in bed.
"This is very interesting," I said.
Fritz coughed.
"I trusted that you would find it so, sir," he admitted.
I thought for several moments. Then I sprang out of bed.
"Fritz," I said, "our engagement comes to an end this morning. I am going to pay you for two months' service."
I went to my drawer and counted out some notes, which Fritz pocketed with a smile of contentment.
"I am obliged to give up my interest in this affair," I said, "so I cannot find any more work for you. But that money will enable you to take a little holiday, and I have no doubt that you will soon succeed in obtaining another situation."
Fritz made me a magnificent bow.
"I am greatly obliged to you, sir," he announced. "I shall take another situation at once. Holidays—they will come later in life. At my age, and with a family, one must work. But your generosity, sir," he wound up, with another bow, "I shall never forget."
I dressed, and walked to the address which Fritz had given me. As I stood on the doorstep, with the bell handle still in my hand, the door was suddenly opened. It was Delora himself who appeared! He shrank away from me as though I were something poisonous. I laid my hand on his shoulder, firmly determined that this time there should be no escape.
"Mr. Delora," I said, "I want a few words with you. Can I have them now?"
"I am busy!" he answered. "At any other time!"
"No other time will do," I answered. "It is only a few words I need say, but those few words must be spoken."
He led the way reluctantly into a sitting-room. There were red plush chairs set at regular intervals against the wall, and a table in the middle covered by papers—mostly out of date. Delora closed the door and turned toward me sternly.
"Captain Rotherby," he said, "I am quite aware that there are certain people in London who are very much interested in me and my doings. Their interests and mine clash, and it is only natural that they should plot against me. But where the devil you come in I cannot tell! Tell me what you mean by playing the spy upon me? What business is it of yours?"
"You misunderstand the situation, sir," I answered. "More than ten days ago you left me in charge of your niece at Charing Cross, while you drove on, according to your own statement, to the Milan Hotel. You never went to that hotel. You never, apparently, meant to. You have never been near it since. You have left your niece in the centre of what seems to be a very nest of intrigue. I have the right to ask you for an explanation of these things. This morning I have a special right, because to-day I have promised to go away into the country, and to take no further interest in your doings."
"Let us suppose," Delora said dryly, "that it is already to-morrow morning."
"No!" I answered. "There is something which I mean to say to you. You need not be alarmed. The few words I have to say to you are not questions. I do not want to understand your secrets,—to penetrate the mystery which surrounds you and your doings. I will not ask you a single question. I will not even ask you why you left your niece in such a fit of terror, and have never yet dared to show your face at the Milan."
"A child would understand these things!" Delora exclaimed. "The Milan Hotel is one of the most public spots in London. It is open to any one who cares to cross the threshold. It is the last place in the world likely to be a suitable home for a man like myself, who is in touch with great affairs."
"Then why did you choose to go there?" I asked.
"It was not my choice at all," Delora answered. "Besides, it was not until I arrived in London that I understood exactly the nature of the intrigues against me."
"At least," I protested, "you should never have brought your niece with you. Frankly, your concerns don't interest me a snap of the fingers. It is of your niece only that I think. You have no right to leave her alone in such anxiety!"
"Nor can I see, sir," Delora answered, "that you have any better right to reproach me with it. Still, if it will shorten this discussion, I admit that if I had known how much trouble there was ahead of me I should not have brought her. I simply disliked having to disappoint her. It was a long-standing promise."
"Let that go," I answered. "I have told you that I have handed in my commission. I have nothing more to do with you or your schemes, whatever they may be. But I came here to find you and to tell you this one thing. Felicia says that you are her uncle, she scouts the idea of your being an impostor, she speaks of you as tenderly and affectionately as a girl well could. That is all very well. Yet, in the face of it, I am here to impress this upon you. I love your niece, Mr. Delora,—some day or other I mean to make her my wife,—and I will not have her dragged into anything which is either disreputable or against the law."
"Has my niece encouraged you?" Delora asked calmly.
"Not in the least," I answered. "She has been kind enough to give me to understand that she cares a little, and there the matter ends. Nothing more could be said between us in this state of uncertainty. But I came here for this one purpose. I came to tell you that if by any chance Felicia should be mistaken, if you play her false in any way, if you seek to embroil her in your schemes, or to do anything by means of which she could suffer, I shall first of all shake the life out of your body, and then I shall go to Scotland Yard and tell them how much I know."
"About Mr. Tapilow, also?" Delora asked, with a sneer.
"Do you think I am afraid to take the punishment for my own follies?" I asked indignantly. "If I believed that, I would go and give myself up to-morrow. Louis can give me away if he will, or you. I don't care a snap of the fingers. But what I want you to understand is this. Felicia is, I presume, your niece. I should have been inclined to have doubted it, but I cannot disbelieve her own word. I think myself that it is brutal to have brought such a child here and to have left her alone—"
"She is not alone," Delora interrupted stiffly. "She has a companion."
"Who arrived yesterday," I continued. "She has spent some very bad days alone, I can promise you that."
"I have telephoned," Delora said, "twice a day—sometimes oftener."
I laughed ironically.
"For your own sake or hers, I wonder," I said. "Anyhow, we can leave that alone. What I want you to understand is this, that if there is indeed anything illegal or criminal in your secret doings over here, you must take care that Felicia is safely provided for if things should go against you. She is not to be left there to be the butt of a great criminal action. If I find that you or any of your friends are making use of her in any way whatever, I swear that you shall suffer for it!"
Delora smiled at me grimly. He seemed in his few dry words to have revealed something of his stronger and less nervous self.
"You terrify me!" he said. "Yet I think that we must go on pretty well as we are, even if my niece has been fortunate enough to enlist your sympathies on her behalf. Never mind who I am, or what my business is in this country, young man. It is not your affair. You should have enough to think about yourself in this country of easy extradition. My niece can look after herself. So can I. We do not need your aid, or welcome your interference."
"You insinuate," I declared indignantly, "that your niece is one of your helpers! I do not believe it!"
"Helpers in what?" he asked, with upraised eyebrows.
"God knows!" I exclaimed, a little impatiently. "What you do, or what you try to do, is not my business. Felicia is. That is why I have warned you."
"Am I to have the honor, then?" Delora asked, with a curl of his thin lips,—
"You are," I interrupted, "if you call it an honor, although to tell you frankly, as things are at present, I am not inclined to go about begging too many different people's permission. If it were not that my brother Dicky has just written over from Brazil to ask me to be civil to you and your niece, you wouldn't have left this place so easily."
"Your brother!" Delora said, looking at me uneasily. "Say that again."
"Certainly!" I answered. "My brother Dicky, who is now out in Brazil, and who has written to me about you. You met him there, of course?" I added. "He stayed with you at—let me see, what is the name of your place?" I asked suddenly.
"Menita," Delora answered, without hesitation. "Now you mention it, of course I remember him! If he has written you to be civil to us, you can do it best by minding your own business. In a fortnight's time I shall be free to entertain or to be entertained. At present I am on a secret mission, and I do not wish my work to be interfered with."
I moved toward the door.
"I have said all that I wish to say," I remarked. "If I hear nothing from you I shall come back to London in fourteen days."
"You will find me with my niece," Delora said, "and we shall be happy to see you."
I left him there, feeling somehow or other that I had not had the best of our interview. Yet my position from the first was hopeless. There was nothing for me to do but to keep my word to Felicia and let things drift.
I drove to the club on my way to the station, where I had arranged for my baggage to be sent. As I crossed Pall Mall I met Lamartine. He was standing on the pavement, on the point of entering a motor-car on which was piled some luggage.
"So you, too, are leaving London," I remarked, stopping for a moment.
He looked at me curiously.
"I am going to Paris," he said.
"A pleasure trip?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"Not entirely," he said. "Only this morning I made a somewhat surprising discovery."
"Concerning our friend?" I asked.
"Concerning our friend," Lamartine echoed.
He seemed dubious, for a moment, whether to take me into his confidence.
"You have not found Delora yet?" I asked.
"Not yet," he answered. "And you?"
"I have seen him," I admitted.
"Are you disposed to tell me where?" Lamartine asked softly.
I shook my head.
"I have finished with the affair," I told him. "I finish as I began,—absolutely bewildered! I know nothing and understand nothing. I am going down into the country to shoot pheasants."
Lamartine smiled.
"I," he remarked, entering the car, "am going after bigger game!"
I found several of my brother's friends staying at Feltham, who were also well known to me, and my aunt, who was playing hostess, had several women staying with her. We spent the time very much after the fashion of an ordinary house-party during the first week of October. We shot until four o'clock, came home and played bridge until dinner-time, bridge or billiards after dinner, varied by a dance one night and some amateur theatricals. On the fifth day a singular thing happened to me.
The whole of the house-party were invited to shoot with my uncle, Lord Horington, who lived about forty miles from us. We left in two motor-cars soon after breakfast-time, and for the last few miles of the way we struck the great north road. It was just after we had entered it that we came upon a huge travelling car, covered with dust, and with portmanteaus strapped upon the roof, hung up by the side of the road. Our chauffeur slowed down to find out if we could be of any use, and as the reply was scarcely intelligible, we came to a full stop. He dismounted to speak to the other chauffeur, and I looked curiously at the two men who were leaning back in the luxurious seats inside the car. For a moment I could not believe my eyes! Then I opened the door of my own car and stepped quickly into the road. The two men who were sitting there, and by whom I was as yet unobserved, were Delora and the Chinese ambassador!
I walked at once up to the window of their car and knocked at it. Delora leaned forward and recognized me at once. His face, for a moment, seemed dark with anger. He let down the sash.
"What does this mean?" he asked. "Have you forgotten our bargain?"
I laughed a little shortly.
"My dear sir," I said, "it is not I who have come to see you, but you to see me. I am within a few miles of my own estate, on my way to shoot at a friend's."
He stared at me for a moment incredulously.
"Do you mean to tell me," he said, in a low tone, "that you have not followed us from London?"
"Why I have not been in London, or near it, for five days," I told him. "I slept last night within thirty miles from here, and, as I told you before, am on my way to shoot with my uncle at the present moment."
"I know nothing of the geography of your country," Delora said shortly. "What you say may be correct. His Excellency and I are having a few days' holiday."
"May I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you at Feltham?" I inquired.
"I am afraid not," Delora answered. "If we had known that we should have been so near, we might have arranged to pay you a visit. As it is, we are in a hurry to get on."
"How far north did you think of going?" I asked.
"We have not decided," Delora answered. "Remember our bargain, and ask no questions."
"But this is a holiday trip," I reminded him. "Surely I may be permitted to advise you about the picturesque spots in my own country!"
"You can tell me, at any rate, what it is that has happened to our car," Delora answered. "Neither His Excellency nor I know anything about such matters."
I walked round and talked to the two chauffeurs. The accident, it seemed, was a trivial one, and with the help of a special spanner, with which we were supplied, was already rectified. I returned and explained matters to Delora.
"Have you come far this morning?" I asked.
"Not far," Delora answered. "We are taking it easy."
I looked at his tired face, at the car thick with dust, at the Chinese ambassador already nodding in his corner, and I smiled to myself. It was very certain to me that they had run from London without stopping, and I felt an intense curiosity as to their destination. However, I said no more to them. I made my adieux to Delora, and bowed profoundly to the Chinese ambassador, who opened his eyes in time solemnly to return my farewell. The chauffeur was already in his place, and I stopped to speak to him. I saw Delora spring forward and whistle down the speaking-tube, but my question was already asked.
"How far north are you going?" I asked.
"To Newcastle, sir," the man answered.
He turned then to answer the whistle, and I re-entered my own car. We started first, but they passed us in a few minutes travelling at a great rate, and with a cloud of dust behind them. Delora threw an evil glance at me from his place. For once I had stolen a march upon him. They had both been too ignorant of their route to keep their final destination concealed from the chauffeur, and they certainly had not expected to meet any one on the way with whom he would be likely to talk! But why to Newcastle? I asked myself that question so often during the morning that my shooting became purely a mechanical thing. Newcastle,—the Tyne, coals, and shipbuilding! I could think of nothing else in connection with the place.
Late that evening I sat with a whiskey and soda and final cigar in the smoking-room. The evening papers had just arrived, brought by motor-bicycle from Norwich. I found nothing to interest me in them, but, glancing down the columns, my attention was attracted by some mention of Brazil. I looked to see what the paragraph might be. It concerned some new battleships, and was headed,—
LARGEST BATTLESHIPS IN THE WORLD!
It is not generally known, that there will be launched from the
works of Messrs. Halliday & Co. on the Tyne, within the next three
or four weeks, two of the most powerful battleships of the
"Dreadnought" type, which have yet been built.
There followed some specifications, in which I was not particularly interested, an account of their armament, and a final remark,—
One is tempted to ask how a country, in the financial position of
Brazil, can possibly reconcile it with her ideas of national
economy, to spend something like three millions in battleships,
which there does not seem to be the slightest chance of her ever
being called upon to use!
Somehow or other this paragraph fascinated me. I read it over and over again. I could see no connection between it and the visit of Delora to Newcastle, especially accompanied as he was by the Chinese ambassador. Yet the more I thought of it, the more I felt convinced that in some way the two were connected. I put down the paper at last, and called out of the room to a motoring friend.
"How far is it to Newcastle from here, Jacky?"
Jacky Dalton, a fair-haired young giant, one of the keenest sportsmen whom I had ever met, and whose mind and soul was now entirely dominated by the craze for motoring, told me with only a few moments' hesitation.
"Between two hundred and two hundred and twenty miles, Austen," he said, "and a magnificent road. With my new Napier, I reckon that I could get there in six hours, or less at night, with this moon."
I walked to the window. Across the park the outline of the trees and even the bracken stood out with extraordinary distinctness in the brilliant moonlight. There was not a breath of air, although every window in the house was open. We were having a few days of record heat.
"Jove, what a gorgeous run it would be to-night!" Dalton said, with a little sigh, looking out over my shoulder. "Empty roads, as light as day, and a breeze like midsummer! You don't want to go, do you, Austen?"
"Will you take me?" I asked.
"Like a shot!" he answered. "I only wish you were in earnest!"
"But I am," I declared. "If you don't mind missing the day's shooting to-morrow I'd love to run up there. It's impossible to sleep with this heat."
"It's a great idea," Dalton declared enthusiastically. "I'd love a day off from shooting."
I turned to a younger cousin of mine, who had just come in from the billiard-room.
"Dick," I said, "will you run things to-morrow if I go off motoring with Dalton?"
"Of course I will," he answered. "It's only home shooting, anyway. I'd rather like a day off because of the cricket match in the afternoon."
"Jacky, I'm your man!" I declared.
"We'll have Ferris in at once," he declared. "Bet you what you like he's ready to start in a quarter of an hour. I always have her kept ready tuned right up."
I rang the bell and sent for Jacky's chauffeur. He appeared after a few minutes' delay,—a short, hard-faced young man, who before Jacky had engaged him had driven a racing car.
"Ferris," his master said, "we want to start for Newcastle in half an hour."
"To-night, sir?" the man asked.
"Certainly," Dalton answered. "I shall drive some of the way myself. Everything is in order, I suppose?"
"Everything, sir," the man answered. "You can start in ten minutes if you wish."
"Any trouble about petrol?" I asked.
"We carry enough for the whole journey, sir," the man answered. "I'll have the car round at the front, sir, in a few minutes."
"Let's go up and change our clothes," Dalton said. "Remember we are going to travel, Austen, especially up the north road. You will want some thickish tweeds and an overcoat, although it seems so stifling here."
I nodded.
"Right, Jacky!" I answered. "I'll be down in a quarter of an hour, or twenty minutes at the most."
In less than half an hour we were off. It was only when the great car swung from the avenue into the country lane that Jacky, who was driving, turned toward me.
"By the bye," he asked, "what the devil are we going to Newcastle for?"
I laughed.
"We are going to look at those new battleships, Jacky," I answered.
He stared at me.
"Are you in earnest?"
"Partly," I answered. "Let's say we are going for the ride. It's worth it."
Dalton drew a long breath. We were rushing now through the silent night, with a delicious wind, strong and cool, blowing in our faces.
"By Jove, it is!" he assented.