"Thetelegraph," said Inspector Forrest, sententiously "is even more speedy than the Motor Pirate."
"Unless you want to send a message from Regent Street to the City," I remarked; "in which case one would save time by employing a sloth as messenger."
The inspector waved aside the objection as frivolous. He occupied an easy chair opposite me; he was smoking one of my best cigars with every sign of active enjoyment; he sipped his glass of claret—he rarely touched anything stronger, he informed me—with the air of a connoisseur.
"We shall beat him with the telegraph," said he. "Clearly he has one retreat where he can put up his car in safety. Probably he has more than one. It is not impossible for him to have several. There might even be a number of Motor Pirates, members of the same gang, but selecting different parts of the country upon which to prey. The telegraph will soon settle these points for us. When next he makes his appearance we shall be able to keep watch upon him, to note, if not theexact spot, at least in what part of the country he makes his appearance. Even if it should be found impossible to arrest him in his progress, he is bound to leave some traces behind him which will enable us to get upon his track."
"He does not seem to have left many behind him at present," I replied.
"No," said the inspector thoughtfully, as he rose and examined the map spread out upon the table. "Yet there are certainly grounds for believing that he has gone to earth somewhere in this neighbourhood. The Hertfordshire police may have been nearer the mark than you thought when they arrested you."
"You don't mean to say that you still suspect me?" I cried.
"Not for one instant," he answered promptly. "The meaning I meant to convey was that, quite unknown to you, the Motor Pirate may very well be your near neighbour. I suppose there is no one residing near whom you would consider a likely object of suspicion?"
There flashed across my mind the strange similarity between Mannering's voice and the Motor Pirate's. But the notion was so absurd I was ashamed to mention it. I assured the inspector I knew of no one.
"At all events, my belief is strong enough to keep me in this district until I hear something further," he declared, as he finished the contents of his glass and glanced at his watch.
Just then I caught sight of Mannering coming up the path through the garden towards my front door.
"You had better stay a little longer," I said to the inspector. "Here is another man coming who may be able to give you some more details of the Pirate. He has seen him, and as he has been a longer resident here than myself, he may be able to tell you more about the people round than I can."
"A motorist?" he asked.
"Yes, named Mannering," I replied. "He is the man I told you about, whom I consider to be my rival, you know."
The inspector's eyes twinkled. "I shouldn't let him drive me into any more adventures like last night's, Mr. Sutgrove," he advised. "If you were ten years older—my age, you know—you wouldn't need the warning, A bout of rheumatic fever would be small consolation for the loss of the lady."
I could not reply, for at that moment Mannering entered.
"Glad to see you home again, Sutgrove," he said heartily. "I'm not the only one either. Miss Maitland asked me to call, for after seeing you in such bad company this morning—— Hullo! I beg your pardon, I thought you were alone." He stopped suddenly on catching sight of Inspector Forrest.
I introduced my guest and Mannering acknowledged the introduction easily.
"Inspector Forrest will assure you that I have onlybeen unfortunate enough to have been the object of our local constabulary's misplaced zeal. They took me for our mutual friend the Motor Pirate."
"Did they though? What an almighty spoof!" said Mannering. "First time I ever heard of a man being run in for robbing himself on the high-road. Beats Gilbert!"
"Mr. Sutgrove did not see the point of the joke at first," said the inspector. I saw that as he spoke he was taking note of Mannering in much the same way as he had taken stock of me at the police office.
Mannering appeared to be quite unconscious of his regard, for he replied—
"Don't suppose I should have relished such a mistake myself. Anyway," he continued, turning to me, "you have the consolation of knowing that you are not the only victim of police enterprise. I see from the papers quite half a dozen motor pirates have been run in. They may have the real one amongst them; but as his car has so far escaped capture, I doubt it."
"So do I," I remarked. "And for the additional reason that I have a sort of presentiment that when his capture is brought about, I am going to have a hand in it."
"What do you say to that, Inspector?" he answered. "Are you going to leave the job to amateurs?"
"I never said 'no' to the offer of assistance in running down a criminal," was the reply.
"I have sworn," I remarked obstinately, "that I will not rest until he is safe under lock and key."
"You had better be prepared," answered Mannering. "I should judge him to be a bit of a fighter."
"Next time I meet him, I'll take all risks to come to close quarters," I continued.
"You haven't a car to do a hundred miles an hour, have you?" he said in a bantering voice.
"My plan is a simple one. I merely propose to go out for night rides until he finds me," I said.
"I had some thoughts of amusing myself in the same way," he answered. "But, judging from your experience this morning, the only thing likely to happen is being arrested on suspicion."
"I'll take my chance of that," I said. "But before discussing the matter, perhaps you could tell Inspector Forrest whether there's any spot in this neighbourhood likely to serve as a hiding-place for the Pirate's car?"
A smile lit up Mannering's face. "There's the old coach-house at the bottom of the paddock next to my cottage. It has a door opening on to the main road. There would be room, too, in my stables, if I had not fitted them up as workshops for my tyre experiments."
"Stop rotting," I said, "the inspector really means it."
He became grave instantly. "Sorry I can't suggest a likely spot," he said, and then for a few minutes he answered the questions the detective put to him as to what he had seen of the Pirate.
He could give little information of any value, and when Inspector Forrest had elicited all that he could, he thanked Mannering and rose to depart. I accompaniedhim to the garden gate. He appeared a little loth to leave me. Twice he turned away and returned to make some objectless remark to me. The third time he blurted out—
"About that suggestion of yours—taking night rides on the chance of being held up——"
"Yes?" I said and waited.
"I wish I had a good fast car at my disposal," hecontinuedearnestly; "but the Yard would never run to it."
I felt a pleasant thrill run through me. It would be good to have his companionship and assistance in working out my self-imposed vow.
"If you can make use of it, I will see that the best car money can buy is placed at your disposal," I replied eagerly.
He took my hand and shook it warmly. "I'll see what my chief says," he replied. "When can I see you again?"
"I shall be leaving here at eight and returning well—between ten and eleven."
"Expect me about midnight," he said, and without another word or backward glance he stepped out in the direction of St. Albans.
I returned to Mannering, who did not, however, favour me with a very lengthy visit. Possibly he found my manner rather cool, but the fact was, that try as I would to curb my feelings, I could not but resent something of an air of proprietorship which I thought appeared in his tone when referring to Miss Maitland.
When he had departed, I got out all the catalogues of motor-cars I could lay my hands upon, and studiedthem until it was time to dress for dinner. Several times I thought of breaking the appointment, for I knew I should have to give some explanation of my arrest, and how to do so without appearing an egregious ass I did not know. Finally I determined, if the opportunity were afforded me, to tell the exact truth, at least to the only person whose opinion I cared about.
I was glad afterwards that I had not sent my excuses, for I was lucky enough to find Miss Maitland alone in the drawing-room when I arrived. It seemed, too, as if she had determined to make amends for the mental torture she had unwittingly caused me the previous evening. So it happened that when she questioned me as to how I managed to get into such a predicament, I told her as clearly as I could of the state of my feelings. It was a blundering, halting statement I made, of that I am certain, and before I had completed it Colonel Maitland's entry closed my mouth. But I think she understood, for there was a little flush on her cheek when we went into dinner which had not been there when I greeted her, and a pretty air of seriousness in the glances she bestowed upon me, which I had never noticed before.
As far as the Colonel was concerned, he did not worry me for any explanations. He was bent on enlarging my knowledge of gastronomy, and having a new cook, he was much too deeply interested in themenuto spare any thoughts for my erratic movements. I am afraid, though, his teaching was wasted on me; forwhile I managed to reply to his conversation, I had not the slightest idea what I was eating. My principal longing was to get the meal over in order that I might finish the conversation which had opened so auspiciously. The opportunity was not afforded me on that occasion, however, but the evening did not pass without my obtaining a glimmering of hope.
When Miss Maitland rose I asked her, in a voice which was low enough not to reach her father's ear, whether she would answer me one question.
"What is it?" she said, and her face flushed a little as she came to the door.
"Is there any one else?" I asked, my hand on the knob.
"What right have you to ask?" she answered.
"No right, I only ask it of your mercy," I replied.
She hesitated, then with flushed cheeks and a soft whispered "No one," she escaped through the door.
Over the port I took my new-found courage in both hands, and asked the Colonel's consent to my suit. I gained it. He even expressed the hope that I should succeed, but he warned me at the same time that I must not depend upon him for any assistance. He declared himself to be clay in the hands of his daughter.
"Evie always had her own way from the cradle," he declared, "and always will have her own way. If I were to say that I thought you would make her a good husband, I'm not sure whether she would not consider it a sufficient excuse to accept Mannering straight away. Personally I should much prefer you, but there's nocounting on a woman's tastes, either in men or wines. And Evie is a perfect woman, God bless her!"
I drained my glass to the toast and made an excuse to get away to the drawing-room. But I did not see her alone again that evening. Winter and his wife had walked over. Mannering did not put in an appearance, and his absence was something to be thankful for; and when I held her hand in mine as I bade her good night, I said—
"You have told me there is no one else. Is there any hope for me?"
She made no pretence of misunderstanding my meaning. She looked at me saucily, her lips parted lightly, her eyes brimming with laughter.
"Come and ask me when—when you have caught the Motor Pirate," she said, and with that answer I was fain to be content.
Thus it happened that I found myself fully committed to the work which was at that time engaging the attention of the whole of the police throughout the land. I welcomed the task. Luck might be on my side, especially if my new friend the detective inspector's assistance proved to be available.
And as regards assurance on this point, I had not long to wait before my mind was at ease. I found him awaiting me at my garden gate when I returned home. I invited him in so eagerly that he smiled.
"There's no need to ask if you are still as keen on this job as you were this afternoon," he said, as he entered my snuggery.
"Keener than ever," I asseverated.
"Then I hope between us we may be successful in running our man to ground."
"Have you heard anything further?" I inquired, anxiously.
"Nothing of the slightest value. A number of people have been through our hands, but of the Pirate—not a sign."
"Perhaps we shall get a clue in the morning," I hazarded.
"At present," he declared, "there's not a shred of a clue to work upon. Of course at any moment information may come to hand. He may endeavour to dispose of some of his plunder, or he may reappear, but until then——"
"What do you suggest?" I asked.
"I shall stay and thoroughly explore this district until I hear something further," he answered.
"I am thinking of going into town in the morning, to see if a more powerful car than the one I possess at present is to be obtained," I told him later. "I am hoping to get one capable of doing fifty or even sixty miles an hour at a pinch, so as to be prepared for emergencies. Meanwhile, if you like to make this house your headquarters, I shall be delighted to put you up."
"Do you really mean that, Mr. Sutgrove?" he asked.
"Of course I do," I replied.
He hesitated a moment, then he accepted my invitation. Luck was on my side after all.
I learnedto know Inspector Forrest very well during the next fortnight, better perhaps, since during that time the Motor Pirate gave absolutely no sign of existence. It seemed as if, contented with the sensation he had created and the plunder he had secured, he had retired into the obscurity from which he originally emerged.
For two reasons I was not sorry for this interval. In the first place, I found I could not get immediately the type of car I wanted. Manufacturers and agents were willing enough to book orders, but none of them had in stock the high-speed automobile such as I required. Only after a long day's hunt did I discover an agent who thought that he could obtain for me a 60-h.p. Mercédès, and then it would have to be sent from Paris. At my suggestion, he telephoned through an order that the car should be despatched to him at once; but two or three days elapsed before its arrival in London, and then there were certain alterations which I required to be made which took a week to complete. I was glad, therefore, that my enemy did not make areappearance until I was provided for him. When the new Mercédès was delivered to me I was delighted with it, especially when I found on my return from the trial run the engines worked as smoothly as when I started.
The other reason why I did not regret the Pirate's quiescence was because of the opportunity afforded me of cementing the friendship which had grown up between myself and the detective. It became a very real and warm friendship during those long idle days. He upset all my preconceived notions of the police, at least as regards the detective portion of the force, he was such an all-round man. He had not allowed his undoubted powers of observation to be entirely concentrated upon the seamy side of his profession. Judging from his conversation, I gathered that he knew quite as much about modern French literature as he did about French criminals, and of the latter his knowledge was both extensive and interesting. I remember on one occasion that he gave me a really acute criticism of the Verlain school, with special relation to the effects of decadent literature on national life. But that is only one example of his scope. Wherever he had been and whatever he had done, had apparently awakened in him the desire to see all round the case he was investigating, and being possessed of a well-trained memory, his mind was a storehouse of curious knowledge.
Let me give one instance. One evening when wewere driving slowly along a bye-road in the vicinity of Uxbridge, in accordance with our preconceived plan—the Mercédès had not then arrived, and our progress was additionally slow as the roads were exceedingly heavy, as rain had been falling daily ever since the night I had been arrested—suddenly my companion said—
"Do you know anything of Persian poetry, Mr. Sutgrove?"
As it happened, owing to the fact that a Sutgrove had once represented his country at the Persian court, I had a slight knowledge of the subject, and I said so.
"I am never out of doors on a spring evening," he continued, "without wishing I had the time to acquire a knowledge of it."
"Why?" I asked.
"It's this way," he replied. "On one of my jobs—a show job, attendance on a distinguished visitor, don't you know—I was thrown a great deal into the company of a Persian gentleman, and we did our best to learn something of each other's languages. He taught me out of Hafiz, and I picked up just enough to make me wish for more. Listen to this."
He recited to me one of the shorter poems from the Divan.
"Isn't that musical?" he continued. "It seems to me to have the real poetry of the spring evening in it."
I agreed with him, and we were silent for a while.Later he asked me diffidently not to mention to any one his penchant for Persian poetry.
"Even at the Yard," he explained, "I doubt whether they would put it down to my credit."
I gave him the assurance he asked for, and from that time forth I came to look upon him as a personal friend. I confided wholly to him the hopes I entertained in regard to my love affair; and he assured me that if he had anything to do with it, I should also have a hand in the arrest of the Pirate.
All our time was not spent, however, in pleasant excursions about the country. Forrest was by no means idle; he had been busy perfecting his scheme for utilizing the telegraph in notifying the Pirate's reappearance when it should be made. Then he had in addition thoroughly and minutely explored the whole of the country round, to see if any trace of the strange visitor were obtainable. His endeavours were quite fruitless, but he still held to his belief that he could not be far away; and the next time the Pirate did make his appearance he was confirmed in his opinion.
The weather had been fine for three days in succession, there had been a drying breeze, and the roads from sloppy quagmires became in such perfect condition that I was looking forward to a really good spin. But Forrest had other views for the evening of the third day.
"I don't think," he remarked, as he sipped his coffee after our early dinner, "we can afford to spend thenight ranging the highways. Business first and pleasure afterwards."
"I thought you were of opinion that our friend will be tempted to make his reappearance to-night?" I remarked.
"I am," he answered; "and therefore the best thing, we can do is to wait until we hear in which direction he makes his reappearance. If we wait in St. Albans at the end of the telegraph wire, we shall be much more likely to meet him than running about at random."
There was so much good sense in the suggestion that I resigned myself to the inevitable waste of time, and I had my reward. About eleven a message came over the wire: "Motor Pirate seen near Towcester going in the direction of Daventry."
"How far is Towcester?" asked Forrest, the moment he heard the message.
"Roughly, I should say forty miles," I answered.
"We ought to manage it within the hour, then," he remarked. "Come along."
Without another word we seated ourselves in the car, and with a continuous toot-toot of the horn we rolled out of the town. Directly we were clear of the houses, I jammed on the highest speed. I cannot say that I felt quite comfortable, for though I knew the road, the night was very dark, the light we threw ahead was so bright as to dazzle my eyes, and hitherto I had no experience of driving a 60-h.p. motor at top speed through the darkness. My companion'ssang-froidsoonreassured me, however, and as soon as we were fairly going, the sting of the night air as it whipped my cheeks brought a sense of exhilaration which would have sufficed to banish my fears had there been time to have entertained any. But there was not. If you have ever driven a speedy automobile at top speed through a dark night, you will readily understand that there is little opportunity for the brain to cultivate imaginary perils. If you do not believe me, try it for yourself and see.
In about sixteen minutes we were at Dunstable. Passing through the town slowly, Forrest got news that the police were watching all the roads, but that nothing had been seen there of the Pirate. Another quarter of an hour brought us to Fenny Stratford. Here we wasted another minute or so in obtaining similar negative information. By this time I was feeling confidence in my car and in my powers to manage it. Once clear of the houses again, I let her rip for all she was worth; we simply flew along. With my right hand on the wheel, my feet on the two pedals, I sat as tense as a fiddle string, my one object to peer into the road ahead.
We had covered ten of the fifteen miles between Stratford and Towcester, when I became aware of a deeper blotch on the blackness ahead. With one movement I pressed down the clutch and jammed on the breaks. I was just in time. The car pulled up in its own length, though it swerved to such an extent that I thought we should be overturned.
There, standing still within the circle of our lights,was another motor-car. It had no lamps burning, but it was shivering with the vibration of its engine running free.
"The Pirate!" I shouted.
"Not a bit of it," said Forrest, jumping down and approaching the stranger.
I followed his example, and the first thing I observed about the car was that all the lights were out, and I wondered that any motorist in his senses should have courted the accident which so nearly occurred.
There was one occupant of the car, and he was sitting bolt upright with one hand on a lever beside him. I shouted something at him angrily as I approached, but he made no response.
"Hullo! Are you asleep, sir?" said Forrest, as he put one foot on the step and grasped the silent motorist by the arm.
There was no reply. I saw Forrest leave his hold on the stranger, and, stepping back into the road, draw his hand across his brow.
"My God!" he muttered
"What is it?" I asked.
Forrest caught his breath sharply. "A piece more of the Motor Pirate's work, I fancy," he said slowly; "and this time, I think it spells—murder."
For a minute I stood absolutely still. It was one of the most eerie moments of my life. Above and about us the black night, beside us the two cars coughing and grunting as if anxious to be moving, and that silentfigure sitting up erect upon his seat, utterly unconscious of the two persons standing watching him with horror-stricken faces.
Forrest's voice, clear, cool, incisive, brought me to myself.
"One of your lamps here, Sutgrove, if you can manage it."
I took a lamp from its socket, and held it while the detective made a brief inspection. It took him a very short time to assure him that his surmise was near the truth.
It was murder.
Right in the centre of the forehead of the silent figure was a small blue hole, so cleanly drilled that it scarcely marred the features of the dead man. One hand still grasped the lever, the other had dropped slightly. When the light fell upon it, I perceived the fingers to be tightly clasped about the butt of a revolver.
Forrest lifted the hand and glanced at the weapon. "One cartridge discharged," he said. "Surely it cannot be a case of suicide?"
Just at that moment I caught sight of a piece of paper pinned to the dead man's coat. I pointed it out to Forrest. He unfolded it, glanced at it, and handed it to me without a word.
It was just a half sheet of ordinary paper used fortyping, and upon it was typed the following sentence—
"This is the fate awaiting those who venture to resist the Motor Pirate."
"That would seem to settle the question as to whether this is a case of suicide or not," I said, handing back the paper to the inspector.
"H'm! At all events the inquest will," he replied. "I'm afraid in any case this ends our pursuit for the night," he continued. "I think I must ask you to run on to the nearest town for assistance. Have you any idea of our whereabouts?"
By calculating the time which had elapsed since leaving Stratford with the pace at which we had been travelling, I came to the conclusion we were not very far from Towcester, and I suggested I had better go there.
"All right; cut along then. Revolver handy?"
I replied in the affirmative as I mounted my car.
"Wait one moment," he called as I was starting; "and bring your light on a bit."
I did as I was directed. Forrest took one of the lamps and walked for five yards up the road, examining carefully every inch of the roadway. At last he paused.
"Here is where the Pirate's motor stopped," he said; and, plumping down upon his knees, he examined the surface carefully. Then, taking a tape from his pocket, he made a series of measurements.
I inquired what he was doing. He grunted in reply. When he had finished he remarked—
"Nothing much to be got out of that. Judging from my measurements, our friend might be driving a Daimler."
Another thought struck him, and, before starting, he asked me to lend him a hand in getting the other car to the side of the road, in case any one else came along and fell upon the fate we had so narrowly escaped. Then I was at liberty to proceed, and, getting once more into my own vehicle, I let the Mercédès drive ahead.
But my nerve had gone. Every moment I fancied weird shapes in the blackness before me. Every moment I heard in my ears the strange humming of the Pirate. Yet I dared not look round, lest I should in that instant come upon him unawares in the shadows in front.
Fortunately I had no long distance to traverse. Soon friendly lights broke the darkness. Slackening pace, I found myself in the well-ordered streets of a little town. The second person I met was a policeman, and, hailing him, I bade him jump on the car and direct me to the police-station. Nothing loth, he obeyed.
I have an idea that the story I told the sergeant in charge was more than a little incoherent, but he understood me sufficiently to become aware that his presence was required immediately at the scene of a crime, and he gave me to understand that he was ready to accompany me forthwith. Then I remembered Forrest asking me to see that the services of a medical man were obtained, in order that he might make an examination of the body before its removal, and I mentioned the matter to the sergeant. He at once gave instructions to the constable who had guided me to the station to knock up a doctor and follow us at once with him, so there wasvery little delay before I was once more driving my car at full speed towards the scene of the tragedy.
By this time my nerve had returned. One reason may have been that I had taken advantage of the slight delay, occasioned by the sergeant giving instructions to his subordinate, to brace myself with a stiff whisky-and-soda from the small supply I carried on the car for emergencies. Now, too, I had the companionship of another able-bodied man on the car with me. I felt that, even if the mysterious murderer were to make his appearance, I should have a better chance of tackling him.
We were not long in reaching our destination. In fact a very few minutes elapsed before we came to the spot where the motor-car stood, with the rigid figure of its owner still in the position I had left him. I pulled up beside the derelict.
"Hallo, Forrest!" I shouted.
There was no answer. The detective had disappeared.
I sprangto the ground by the side of the death-car. It was standing by the side of the road, just as I had left it, its silent owner sitting rigidly erect, still grasping the lever, and looking fixedly into the darkness.
"Forrest! Forrest!" I shouted again.
All was silent as the grave.
It was very strange. He had promised to await my return. I looked at my watch. Altogether half an hour had not elapsed since my departure. Yet many things might happen in half an hour with such a spirit of death abroad as I knew to be hovering around. I shivered.
The police sergeant was as much bewildered at Forrest's disappearance as myself. On our way, I had explained more fully the circumstances under which we had discovered the crime which had been committed. He knew my companion by name and reputation, and he was quite at a loss to explain his absence.
I scanned the road so far as it was revealed by our lights, half expecting yet dreading to see his prostrateform. But there was nothing visible. Each taking a lamp from my car, the sergeant and I set out to search the hedges and ditches on each side of the road. We did so conscientiously for a hundred yards up and down the road, and on each side, but found nothing.
When we got back to the car, the sergeant said to me—
"Perhaps Mr. Forrest has found a clue, and thought he would waste no time in following it up."
The suggestion seemed feasible enough, but just at that moment my glance fell on something at my feet which put the idea to flight. Lying on the road was a large button. I picked it up. I saw at once that it had been torn violently away from the garment to which it had been attached, for a piece of the cloth had come away with it, I looked at it narrowly—the cloth was of the same material as the overcoat Forrest had been wearing.
The button had been almost under the wheels of my car, so I backed the Mercédès a few yards, and looked about for further traces. In the space thus laid bare there lay a lamp smashed to pieces. I picked up the frame, and saw that it was one of the lamps taken from the other motor. Further search only revealed another button similarly attached to a shred of cloth like the first one I had found. That was all.
The sergeant looked at me and I at him. One thought was in both our minds, and we gave utterance to it simultaneously.
"The Motor Pirate has been back again."
"You must have scared him away the first time, and on his return to complete the job he found the inspector here, and——"
The sergeant did not complete his sentence, but glanced apprehensively up and down the road.
"If he has returned, I don't see what he can have done with Forrest," I replied.
"Heaven knows!" the man replied, involuntarily lowering his voice. "I—I begin to believe that this Motor Pirate is—is the Devil."
"Nonsense, man!" I said sharply.
To tell the truth, my own nerves, in spite of the whisky, were in none too firm a condition; and I knew it would be fatal to allow myself to become infected by the very obvious funk which had seized upon my companion. I felt, however, I must be doing something unless I wanted to succumb.
"Look here," I said, "you wait by the car a few minutes, while I go two or three hundred yards further up the road, to see if I can find any other traces."
"I—I would much rather you—you didn't leave me," stammered the sergeant. "It's bad enough for there to be only the two of us."
"Come, pull yourself together," I replied roughly. "There's nothing to be afraid of."
"I don't think I can stand being left here alone," repeated the sergeant.
"Very well; you had better come along with me then," I replied.
He jumped into the car beside me with alacrity, and I started the motor, though not until I had arranged my revolver handily at my side. We went for a mile at our slowest pace in the direction of Stratford, and finding nothing, we returned, and covered the same distance in the direction of Towcester, with a similar result. Our progress was brought to a termination by our meeting with a trap containing the doctor, who was accompanied by a couple of constables. When we recognized who was approaching, the change that came over the demeanour of the sergeant was astonishing. All his courage came back to him. He talked to me quite easily as we returned to the scene of the outrage with the trap keeping close behind us; and when we pulled up, he took control of the proceedings as if he had never felt a moment's tremor in his life. He must have observed my astonishment, for he took me aside and said—
"I was a bit overcome just now, sir. You won't mention it before my men."
"Certainly not," I answered. "I was only one degree better myself."
"That's enough to make any one feel creepy," he said, jerking his thumb towards the silent figure.
We did nothing but stand about and talk in subdued tones, until the doctor had completed his examination of the silent figure by the light of my lamps. It did not last long.
"Death was instantaneous," he said, as he steppeddown from the car. "The bullet appears to have passed straight along the longitudinal sinus, and, as near as I can tell, he must have been dead about an hour."
"You would like to make a more extensive examination, I suppose, doctor?" said the sergeant.
"If a suitable place were available," he replied.
The sergeant mentioned an inn at a village not far distant, and, the doctor acquiescing, arrangements were at once made for conveying the body there, the sergeant and I setting out in advance to provide for its reception.
I am not going into any further detail regarding the proceedings of that night. Indeed I can to-day scarcely recall them. I know that I waited at the inn for a long while after the melancholycortègearrived, and that I felt curiously dazed amidst all the bustle caused by the arrival. I remember eventually driving the sergeant back to Towcester, and making to him a long statement, which he took down in writing.
By the time I had completed this statement day had dawned. I shall never forget my impressions of that early morning as I rode home alone. The birds were twittering in the hedgerows, a soft white mist hung low down over the meadows, all nature was so serene and peaceful that it was difficult to imagine that the night which had passed had been so full of horror and mystery. I felt as one awakened from a dream. But on my way I passed the deserted motor-car. A constable was beside it, and I pulled up to speak to him.
"Seen nothing of Inspector Forrest, I suppose?" I asked.
"Nothing," he replied.
I gave him good morning and got on. I made similar inquiries at Fenny Stratford, and again at Dunstable, still without result. I comforted myself with the thought that at St. Albans I should certainly hear news of him. But no. I found the police wild with excitement, but entirely without any information as to what had become of the missing detective. I found, however, that they did not share my forebodings as to anything serious having happened to him. Their view was that he had discovered some clue, and was hard upon the track of the murderer. I had to give them a complete history of the events of the night. But I got away at last, and reached home as tired as I had ever been in my life.
I took a bath as hot as I could bear it, and went straight to bed. I was dead beat, and I fell asleep instantly.
I awoke some time in the afternoon, and when I had got the sleep out of my eyes, and the events of the previous night came back to me, I felt inclined to curse myself for having thought of resting. I felt certain that if it had been myself who was missing, Forrest would not have slept until he had discovered something concerning my fate. I made a hasty meal while dressing, and ordered my car to be brought round. Directly it appeared I hurried off to St. Albans.
Nothing had been seen or heard there of Forrest, and once more I set out upon the road I had traversed the previous night. Again I rode as far as Towcester. I had a chat with the sergeant of police, and found that, though search parties had scoured the country round for miles, no intelligence had been obtained. I made arrangements to appear at the inquest on the following day, and returned to St. Albans. Still no news.
I got home again about seven, sick at heart. I had counted so much upon Forrest's assistance in the fulfilment of my vow; but that was only a secondary consideration now. I had grown to like him so much, that the idea that he had met with any mischance knocked me over completely. I went into my study and threw myself moodily into a chair. My man brought me in some whisky, and hovered about until I told him to go.
"You were going to dine at Mr. Winter's to-night, sir, with Mr. Forrest," he reminded me.
The engagement had completely passed from my memory.
"I shall be unable to go, Wilson," I said.
"They haven't found Mr. Forrest, then, sir?" said the man respectfully. He was simply brimming over with curiosity.
"No. I'm afraid we shall never see him alive again," I groaned.
"Dear me! Not so bad as that, I hope, sir," he responded sympathetically, as he still lingered.
"Not half so bad as that, Wilson," remarked a cheery voice just outside the door.
My man started, and I jumped to my feet with a shout of welcome.
"Forrest! Forrest!" I cried. "Come along in, man."
"Well, if I may?" replied Forrest's voice.
"If you may!" I answered. "Why—what the——!"
My astonishment at the appearance he presented as he entered the room choked my further utterance.
The man who entered was a veritable scarecrow. A man with a torn coat and rent trowsers, and a battered hat which barely held together upon his head. He was covered from head to foot with mud. His face was dirty, unshaven, disreputable.
"Forrest? Is it indeed you?" I could not but ask, when my speech returned to me.
"I don't ask you to recognize me until I have had a bath and a shave," he replied. "But when I have sacrificed to Hygeia, I expect to be presentable enough to dine with Mr. Winter to-night. I've been wondering all day whether I should manage to get here in time. Meanwhile, the least spot of whisky——"
I could not express my delight at his return, and unthinkingly I poured out nearly a tumbler of the neat spirit, and felt almost hurt when he returned all but one finger to the decanter.
"If you give me a dose like that, I shall certainly be unable to accompany you," he said.
I could curb my curiosity no longer. I burst out with a string of questions.
"Where have you been? What has happened to you? Why did you disappear? How——"
He stopped me. "So that's why you gave me all that whisky. You wanted to make me talk, eh?"
I laughingly disassociated myself from any such intention, and, putting the curb on my curiosity, I turned him over to Wilson to be valeted out of the semblance to a tramp.
The process took some time, and when he came downstairs in irreproachable evening clothes, there was no time for him to give me the history of his adventures unless we were to miss our dinner.
"And that," declared Forrest, "I absolutely refuse to do; for, with the exception of sixpenny worth of rum and a crust of bread and cheese, nothing has passed my lips since dinner last night."
"Then you will be glad to hear that the Winters are punctual people," I remarked as we at once set out for my neighbour's house.
"I suppose," he said, as we reached our destination, "I may count upon you not referring to the plight in which I returned to your place? I should not care for it to get abroad that the Pirate had got the better of me on the first occasion of our meeting."
"Then you have seen him?" I cried eagerly.
"Seen him!" Forrest ejaculated in reply. "Seen him! After dinner you shall have a full, true andparticular account of all that's happened. Until then—well, assume you know everything but are not at liberty to divulge anything."
I was as much at home in Winter's house as in my own, so I did not trouble to ring and Forrest followed me in. I had forgotten that his appearance was likely to create as great a sensation there as it had caused me. I entered the drawing-room first, Forrest being a little behind. Mrs. Winter, a fluffy-haired little woman with blue baby eyes, baby lips, and a most engaging little baby dimple, was the centre of the party gathered there. The other women were Miss Maitland and Mrs. Winter's twin sister, who reproduced the hair, lips, eyes and dimple with such exactness that it was always a puzzle to me how Winter had managed to make up his mind between them. About them were gathered Colonel Maitland, Mannering, Winter himself, and another man whom he had brought down with him from town that day. The subject of conversation, I learned afterwards, had been entirely devoted to Forrest's disappearance, and when they caught sight of him the effect was electrical. The ladies all jumped to their feet, the twin sisters screamed in unison, the men stood stock still. Mannering appeared to be the most astonished, for he turned pale and his lips became livid. Before any one could say a word, however, the door opened again and the butler announced dinner in an impassive voice, which sent everybody into convulsions of laughter.
We filed into dinner a particularly merry party. Mrs.Winter had arranged for me to take in Miss Maitland, and the fact that Mannering obviously resented the arrangement added a great deal to my good humour. The fact of Forrest being the lion of the evening did not disturb me at all. Indeed I was glad some one else had to parry the numberless questions put to him respecting his disappearance.
He fenced them remarkably well, though of course, when cornered, he could always fall back upon the excuse of his mouth being closed by the official pledge of secrecy.
Needless to say, only one topic was mooted, and I should not have referred to it had not the man whom Winter had brought from town said something which, I found afterwards, had some bearing on future events. This person was a diamond merchant in his business hours, and after the ladies had left us, he expressed the opinion that it was a good thing the Motor Pirate confined his attentions to fellow motorists.
"If, for instance," he remarked, "he were to take it into his head to hold up the Brighton Parcels Mail to-morrow night, he would make one of the best-known firms in Hatton Garden feel very sick."
"How's that?" asked Mannering, carelessly. He had quite recovered from the temporary shock which Forrest's unexpected appearance had occasioned him.
"Well, I heard they are sending off a particularly valuable collection of stones by registered parcel post to-morrow," he answered.
"Seems a silly thing to do," commented Winter.
"I don't know about that," was the reply. "Their theory is that the chances of robbery are infinitely less than by any other method of forwarding. They have followed the practice for years, and hitherto have never made a loss. You see, no one knows anything about it except the principal, who takes the packet to the post office. He registers it at St. Martin's, and the packet is immediately placed amongst a number of parcels of all sorts, shapes and sizes; and the chance of a casual thief selecting that particular parcel, even if he had the chance, are at least a hundred to one, while it is well known that the postal employee who steals always lets the registered letter severely alone."
The subject was not pursued further, and soon after we joined the ladies. The party broke up early, and I was not sorry, for I could see Forrest was tired and I wanted to get his story from him before he turned in. But when we were back in my snuggery, I found that he considered it necessary to report himself at St. Albans. I was on the telephone, so I suggested its use, and he jumped at the idea. After some little difficulty we managed to get a message through to the police-station. Then settling down into an easy chair with a great sigh of content, he reeled out an account of his adventures.