Thenight was moonless, but there was that soft diffused light in the air invariable in June, except on the cloudiest of evenings. There was just enough of it to enable us to see our way as we strolled towards Mannering's house. When we reached it everything appeared still. All the windows were dark. I felt my heart beginning to beat faster than ordinarily as Forrest lifted the latch of the gate opening on to the strip of garden, which lay between the road and the house. We walked along the turf edging of the path in order that our feet might not crunch upon the gravel. Forrest was first. He went straight to the front door and tried it. It was fast.
"We will try one of those French windows," he whispered after returning to my side.
The house was a two-story cottage with a verandah opening on the south side facing a lawn. On to this verandah windows opened from both the dining and sitting-rooms, the servants' quarters being on the other side of the house.
We went round the angle of the building and triedthe first window. It was fastened. With cat-like tread Forrest glided on to the second. It was one of the two giving entrance to the sitting-room. A sibilant sound from the detective's lips took me to his side. Without hesitating a second, he threw back the casement and stepped into the darkness.
"Come," he muttered, and I followed.
Heavy curtains veiled the windows and past these the darkness was thick enough to be felt. Of a sudden there was a crack which made me start. It was only Forrest striking a match. With imperturbable confidence, he stepped towards a table and lit the lamp which stood thereon. I felt exceedingly uncomfortable, but Forrest obviously knew no such qualms, for he at once proceeded to examine every object in the room. So far as I could see, there was nothing at all unusual about the place. The room was in exactly the same condition as I had observed it hundreds of times before when I had dropped in for a smoke and a chat. On the table, beside the lamp, was a tantalus and a glass, and a half empty syphon. The glass had been used and the ash on the floor, beside an armchair, showed that a cigar had accompanied the drink. A pair of slippers lay on the hearth rug as if they had been carelessly kicked off. Forrest pointed to them.
"Mannering is not at home," he said. "If he had gone to bed, these would not be here."
"I hope he will not return while we are about," I muttered.
"It would be a little awkward for him," said Forrest, calmly. "I should be compelled to arrest him in self-defence, and I am not prepared to do so at present."
He did not, however, hurry his movements in any way as he proceeded to deliberately search the room. Only once did he pause, and that was when he discovered a continental time-table of recent date. He brought the book to the light and turned over the pages carefully. A gleam of exultation crossed his face, as he pointed out to me a trace of tobacco ash between the pages which gave details of the train service between Vienna and Amsterdam.
"We are on the right track," he observed.
But that one slight piece of evidence was all that the most careful examination of the room revealed, although there was not a drawer nor a shelf which he did not overhaul.
"We must try his bedroom," he remarked, when he had finished with the sitting-room.
"What about the servants?" I asked.
"If they are not asleep, they will merely imagine that it is their master going to bed," he replied, as taking a candlestick, which stood on an occasional table near the door, he passed out of the room. I followed him upstairs, with my heart in my mouth, and pointed out to him the door of the room which Mannering occupied. As Forrest turned the handle and entered, I was quite prepared to make a bolt for it. I should not have been a bit surprised to have discovered our suspect sleeping quietly within. But Forrest turned and beckoned me to enter. The room was empty, and this time I assisted the detective in hissearch. Between us we subjected the bedroom and the adjoining dressing-room to the closest scrutiny, but without result. We could not, unfortunately, make an exhaustive examination, for there were one or two ancient presses which were locked, and the Chubb safe let into the wall by the bed head was likewise fastened.
The detective shrugged his shoulders when we had done.
"As we haven't a burglar's outfit, we shall have to wait until we have a search warrant," he muttered.
With a disappointed air he led the way out of the room. On the landing he paused. His keen gaze had rested for a moment on a travelling bag which stood under a table. There were the remains of a number of labels upon it and he scanned them carefully. There was no sufficient of any one of them left for identification.
"He's a clever devil," he whispered.
Then he opened the bag and again his countenance lightened. Inside was an empty bottle bearing the label of a London chemist, with the additional superscription—"Peroxide of Hydrogen."
"The fair hair is accounted for," commented Forrest. "And as for the dye which would restore his locks to their natural colour, I presume he has it under lock and key."
He slipped the bottle into his pocket and returned downstairs, I following at his heels.
"There's not enough at present against him to warrant his arrest," he said, when we were again in the sitting-room.
"Then why not have a look round his workshops," I suggested.
"His what?" queried Forrest, eagerly.
"Haven't I ever mentioned them to you? Haven't you ever heard that Mannering spends all his spare time in experimental motor construction?" I asked in surprise.
"I think I have heard it mentioned, but until this moment I have always thought it was chaff," he replied.
"Good heavens!" I ejaculated.
"I should have been inside that shop a couple of months ago," he continued, "if I had thought—— Whereabouts is the shop?"
"Just at the back of the house and abutting on the side of the road," I explained. "The old coach-house and stables." Then as the thought occurred to me, I continued, "Why I heard him tell you of his work himself."
"That's precisely the reason why I paid no attention to it," said my companion. "Can you take me to the place?"
I led the way through the French window, Forrest putting out the light before he followed me, and carefully closing the casement behind him as he stepped on to the verandah. A clock, somewhere in St. Albans, struck the half after two as we crossed the lawn in the direction of the workshop.
"We have only a short time at our disposal," whispered Forrest. "The darkness is lifting, and our friend will soon be returning."
We passed through a side door, which we foundunlocked, into what had once been the stable-yard. But we could get no further. The two doors which gave admission to the building were firmly fastened, and there was no available window by which we might gain entrance. We retraced our steps, and, passing out of the door, approached the stables from the road. By this time the dawn had made such progress that we knew our chances of getting inside before Mannering's return were dwindling rapidly. We found no more likelihood of obtaining admission from this side than the other.
"I cannot arrest a man on the evidence of a few grains of tobacco dust, and an empty phial," declared Forrest, savagely, as he shook the tightly locked door. "Listen!" I said.
Borne on the wind came the throb of a motor. So still was the air that when the sound first reached our ears it must have been a mile away. The sound drew nearer and nearer, and while it was still a quarter of a mile distant, I recognized the familiar noise of Mannering's car, a sound as dissimilar to the hum of the Pirate car as it was possible to conceive.
"Forrest," I cried, turning to my companion, "we must be mad to think that Mannering could play the part of the Motor Pirate on that old car of his."
There was something so irresistibly ludicrous in the idea, that we both indulged in a hearty fit of laughter, and with one accord we turned and walked down the road.
"He may keep his fast car elsewhere," remarked the detective, when his mirth had subsided.
"It would be difficult to bring the guilt home to him if we failed to discover the car," I replied.
A few seconds later we met the man whom we had so lately suspected. I felt a tinge of shame at the thought that, a few minutes previously, I had been sneaking into his house in the hope that I should find evidence to convict him of a crime. By this time dawn was sufficiently advanced to allow of recognition, and as he came level with us Mannering pulled up.
"Hullo, Sutgrove!" he shouted. "You're about betimes. Been on the same job as myself?"
"What's that, Mr. Mannering?" asked Forrest
"Looking for an opportunity to pay back this little debt," was the light answer, as the speaker tapped his shoulder gently.
"Any luck?" said Forrest, dryly.
"Not a scrap," was the ready reply. "You see I'm a bit handicapped with this old car, for unless the fellow happens to take the same road as myself, there's precious little chance of my picking him up. Still, if you do not soon succeed in catching him, I think I shall have a good try myself."
"I suppose by that you know who he is," I remarked, more in order to see what he would say than in the hope of eliciting anything.
"Not the slightest idea on the subject," he responded promptly. "I am merely hoping that in a few days I shall be in possession of a new motor from which even the Pirate will be unable to escape."
I made a gesture of surprise.
"Fact," he continued. "My experiments have proved successful at last. In a week I shall have delivered to me the new motor I have designed, and then the Pirate had better look out. Good night."
Waving an adieu, he set his car in motion, and jogged along until he reached the door of his coach-house. We watched him dismount, unlock the door, and disappear inside.
"It beats me," remarked Forrest.
"Surely you do not still harbour any suspicion concerning him?" I inquired in amazement.
Forrest made no reply. His head was bent, his brow knitted deeply, his hands clasped behind him as we turned and walked back to my place. He did not speak until we stopped on my doorstep.
"I wish he had not seen us," my companion then remarked. "He will be bound to tumble to the conclusion that we suspect him, and will be on his guard."
"Then you do still suspect him," I cried again.
"If I had one scrap of direct evidence," replied the detective, emphatically, "I would have him under arrest within half an hour. Only one little scrap," he almost groaned. "But, as it is, my reputation would not survive if I made a mistake."
"Why, you don't imagine that he would go so far as to shoot himself just to avert suspicion," I asked, still incredulous.
Forrest drew himself up smartly. "Good Lord! What a fool I am! What—a—blind—dunderheaded—jackass!" he cried.
"What's the matter now?" I inquired smiling, for the detective was groping in his pockets. "Have you lost anything?"
From his waistcoat pocket he produced a small leaden bullet, and he held it outstretched in the palm of his hand.
"Here have I been wasting weeks on the continent, while with this I might have settled the matter once and for all."
"How?" I asked.
"I needed but to compare this with the bullet the surgeon extracted from Mannering's shoulder. This is the one which killed the poor fellow near Towcester. If Mannering's bullet is identical with this, I should have nothing more to say; but," he continued meaningly, "both your revolver and mine are of a different calibre to the weapon which fired this. If the bullet which hit Mannering should prove to fit either of our weapons, there would be no need to seek for further evidence. I must see that surgeon at once."
He started off rapidly down the garden path. I hurried after him and laid my hand on his arm.
"Steady, old man," I remarked. "You can hardly knock up a hardworked medical man at 3.30 a.m. just to ask him a question."
Forrest stopped and gave a short laugh. "Upon my word, I had entirely forgotten what the time was. No,you are quite right. There is no need for such excessive hurry. Mannering is safe enough for the present."
"At least, for the next eighteen hours," I observed, after glancing at my watch. "Meanwhile, your room has been kept ready for you."
"A little sleep will not come amiss," he answered, yawning; "though it seems almost a pity to go to bed on such a morning."
He was right. By this time dawn was breaking with a splendour I have never seen equalled before nor since. From east to west the sky was stained and flecked with crimson and gold, and our faces glowed ruddily in the reflected light. We both fell to silence, as with our faces to the east we watched the uprising of the sun; and, until the sky paled as the sun made its appearance above the line of the horizon, we did not stir.
Then Forrest drew a deep breath. "There's been the beauty of destruction in the sunrise," he remarked. "We shall have a storm before nightfall."
He followed me indoors, and, leaving him at the door of his room, I went to my own. I got into my pyjamas, but I did not feel inclined to sleep for the sunbeams were glancing in at my window, and all about were the sound and movement of the awakening earth-creatures. I wheeled an easy chair to the window, and wrapping a blanket about me, took a novel I had been reading and strove to fix my attention on the pages. I could not do so. Whether it was the reflex action of the brain from the excitement of the evening or not, but the fact wasI felt unaccountably depressed. I fought against the feeling as best I could. But I could not get out of my head the idea that some great danger was threatening, not myself, but the one dearest to me in the world. From my window I could see her home, and I drew the chair into a position where my eyes might rest upon the roof which sheltered her. There was some consolation in this, and I watched until I eventually fell into an uneasy slumber, from which I awakened unrefreshed and ill at ease.
Mytub pulled me together to some extent, but I still felt restless when I went downstairs. Forrest had already gone out, leaving word that he expected to be back to breakfast at the usual hour. I went into the garden, but the sun was shining in a cloudless sky and there was not a breath of air stirring. It was insufferably hot and I was glad to return into the shade of the house.
The detective came in panting, a little later, with disappointment plainly written in his face.
"The surgeon out?" I inquired.
"No," he answered. "But he was not much use though. Mannering kept the bullet. He wanted to retain it, so he said, as a memento of his adventure."
"Perfectly natural," I commented.
"Perfectly," returned Forrest. "The unfortunate result is, that his doing so prevents me from dismissing the possibility of his being the Pirate from my mind. And I ought to be doing something. Last night the rascal seems to have been everywhere. Apparently hewas actuated with a desire to destroy everything which stood in his path. One would judge him to have become absolutely reckless. Instead of avoiding the towns, he courted observation by passing through them. This morning at the police office, I heard particulars of at least half a dozen cases of unoffending people being ruthlessly ridden down, and Heaven only knows how many more there may be of which the details are not yet to hand. The sheer devilry of his progress is simply amazing. What it comes to is this, Sutgrove. If I can't get hold of him within the next week I may as well resign the force at once. If I don't resign I shall be dismissed, and quite deservedly."
I tried to say something consolatory, but he would not hear me; and it was not until after he had made a savage attack upon the eggs and rashers and had swallowed three cups of tea, that his usual equanimity returned.
"What's the next move?" I asked, when breakfast was done.
"I am going to town to see if I can identify the purchaser of this bottle," he replied, holding up the phial he had taken from the bag in Mannering's house the night before; "and to inquire whether anything more has been heard of the fair-haired German."
"Then I can be of no assistance to you, to-day?" I said.
"None whatever beyond remaining here and keeping an eye upon our friend. I shall ask for another manto-day to assist in shadowing him, but until his arrival I should be glad for some one to keep me acquainted with his movements. If, as I presume you will, you go over to Colonel Maitland's, you cannot help seeing whether he leaves his house."
I promised to do as he wished, and shortly after he had gone, I took my hat and strolled over to the Colonel's place.
Evie appeared to have quite recovered from her fears of the previous evening, and being busily engaged upon domestic duties, she sent me to join her father under the shade of a big tree on the lawn. There solaced by an iced lemon squash and the newspaper, I managed to pass the morning very comfortably. Mannering gave no sign of existence.
I took myself home for lunch, remembering letters I had to write. I felt much easier in mind, and made a hearty meal in consequence. The result was that I fell asleep over my cigar afterwards.
I awoke suddenly, wondering where I was. Then I thought I must have slept for hours, for a blackness only one degree less than that of night brooded over the earth. I took out my watch lazily, and was surprised to see that the hands only pointed to five. I sat still for a minute or two striving to collect my thoughts, for my head was heavy. I held my watch to my ear. It had not stopped. I jumped up and walked to the window, and I saw at once the reason why I had imagined that night had fallen. From east to west and from north tosouth a dense pall of cloud hung over the earth. Not a leaf moved, and except for the shrill chirp of a grasshopper, not a sound broke the uncanny stillness.
"By Jove!" I muttered, "we are going to have it hot."
There came upon me an intense desire to be near Evie during the progress of the storm which threatened every moment to break. I did not wait to analyse the feeling, but catching up my hat I bolted straight out of the window. I had only a couple of hundred yards to traverse, but when I reached the Colonel's house, so hot and heavy was the air, that I was soaked from head to foot in perspiration. I paused at the gate to wipe my brow with my handkerchief, and at the moment the storm broke. I heard the crackle of the lightning as it slid from the sky, and the thunder clap followed so swiftly that for a moment I felt deafened. I waited no longer, but raced across the lawn and into the open French window of the drawing-room. The apartment was unoccupied, so I passed through into the hall. That was vacant too, and I continued my search through the morning-room to the Colonel's sanctum. There I saw the genial warrior standing at the window, and watching the play of the lightning with every appearance of interest.
"Hullo, Colonel!" I said. "Where's Evie?"
"Isn't she in the drawing-room? She was there twenty minutes ago," he replied.
"She is not there now, I have just come through," I explained.
"Then I fancy she will be in all probability in her bedroom with her head under the sheets," he said, chuckling.
"At all events I will send one of the maids to see," I said.
I rang the bell, and after giving a message to the maid who answered the summons, I joined the Colonel at the window. He appeared to be very pleased with the progress the storm was making.
"Thank goodness this will clear the air," he explained, as a reason for his satisfaction. "It was so hot that I could take no lunch but a mayonnaise, iced strawberries, and a glass of hock. Don't you think the air is cooler already? I begin to feel quite an appetite for dinner. My only fear is that, if the thunder has not turned everything sour, it will have frightened my cook out of her senses, and there will be nothing to appease my appetite."
The window at which we were standing faced towards Mannering's house. There was a stretch of lawn outside and, beyond, a thicket of shrubs and small trees between the grounds of the two residences. I was glancing in the direction of these, when I thought I saw something white moving in the shrubbery. I was about to say something to the Colonel when a crash of thunder drowned the utterance. At the next flash of lightning, I perceived that my eyes had not deceived me, and in an instant I jumped to the conclusion that it was Evie whowas out there in the storm. Without a moment's hesitation I vaulted through the window and raced across the lawn. The Colonel must have thought me mad.
It was something of a shock for me to find that I was right in my conjecture. There, huddled up under the spreading branches of a cedar, stood my darling, her eyes wide open, her cheeks blanched with terror.
"Why, Evie, dear heart! What is the matter?" I cried.
At the sound of my voice she started, and, with a little cry of delight, she threw herself into my arms.
"I knew you would come—I knew you would come!" she sobbed hysterically.
The cedar under which she was standing was close to the hedge, and I fancied, as she spoke, that I saw a figure move away from the other side of the hedge. I could not verify my suspicion, for Evie needed all my attention. She had fainted. Catching her up, I bore her across the lawn to the house.
It was some time before she came to herself, and then, at her own request, I left her with her maid and returned to the Colonel. Needless to say I was very much worried in my mind. Why Evie should have been sheltering in the shrubbery from the storm, with the house so near, seemed unexplainable, and I awaited with anxiety the time when I could learn the reason from her own lips. The presence of the figure—the figure of a man—on the opposite side of the hedge, was also inexplicable. I should have guessed it to be Mannering, but I would have staked my life upon Evie's truthfulnesswhen she had told me how much she had learned to detest him. Besides, her delight was obvious when I arrived on the scene.
Not until the evening, however, did I get a chance of speaking to Evie again. The Colonel and I dined alone, Evie sending word to say that the storm had left her with a headache, and that she would join us later. I was so silent during the meal that my host grew quite merry at my expense.
"Wait till you are married, my boy," he remarked. "There will come times when you will be grateful for these feminine headaches."
I hate cheap witticisms of this sort, but I could hardly resent them from the Colonel as I could have done had they fallen from any one else's lips; but I fancy he saw at last that they were distasteful to me, for after a while he forebore to comment upon my dour looks.
About ten Evie came downstairs. By this time the storm had passed away entirely, and the air was deliciously fresh and cool after the rain. It was a strangely subdued girl who came nervously to me, and shrank away from me as I kissed her.
"No, Jim, no! You mustn't do that," she said.
Colonel Maitland had slipped away upon his daughter's entrance, and we were alone.
"Why, darling, what ails you?" I asked.
"Nothing—nothing. Oh! don't ask me," she almost wailed in reply.
I put my arm about her waist, and drew her downbeside me to a seat on a big Chesterfield drawn before one of the windows. She resisted faintly at first, but presently I heard her give a sigh of content, and felt her nestle towards me. Then I spoke.
"Tell me, dear, what possessed you to go out into the storm?"
"I don't know," she murmured—"I don't know. I—I felt that I must. I didn't think it was going to break so soon, and then the first flash of lightning and the voice of the thunder! It was like judgment day."
"It is all passed and over," I remarked, with a man's clumsy attempt at consolation.
"I wish it were—I wish it were," she repeated, with an indrawn sigh.
"It is all over hours ago," I said.
She broke away from me passionately. "Oh! Jim, you don't know," she cried.
"I don't know what?" I inquired, as I attempted to draw her to me again.
She pushed my hands away with a gesture of despair. Then with an effort she rose to her feet, and looking at me straight in the face, she said—
"Jim, this must not go on. It is more than I can bear."
I rose to my feet too, my heart beating wildly. "I don't understand you," I answered, though I comprehended her meaning only too well. "What must not go on?"
"Our—our engagement," she faltered. She was white to the lips as she said the words.
I staggered back under the blow, then leaning forward I sought to take her hand.
"No, Jim, no!" she said. "It's no use; I can never be yours. It is impossible—quite impossible. My love would be fatal to you! I know it will! He said so."
"He?" I asked.
She faltered. "Oh! I cannot help believing him. He tells me that I am to be his." She shuddered. "Jim, you must leave me, and never see me again. I cannot have your—your blood on my hands."
She held out her slender white fingers, and I saw that the ring which I had placed there had been removed. Though my brain was awhirl, I tried my utmost to be calm. I think the effort was successful, and that my voice was fairly even when I said—
"Come, darling, a promise is a promise, and my own little girl is not going to break her promise because of the threats of a jealous rival."
She shuddered from head to foot. "You don't know him as I know him," she murmured. "He would stick at nothing, Jim. I don't think he is a man; he must be a devil. He can do things no man ever thought of doing."
"You exaggerate his capacities for evil," I said, as equably as I was able, for her agitation was so great that I feared for her reason. "What has Mannering been saying to you, for it was he whom I saw behind thehedge when I brought you out of the storm, I suppose?"
"You saw him?" she queried. "Then it is true. I have been hoping you would tell me I had been dreaming again."
"I saw nothing very terrible about him," I remarked.
"You don't know him," she said again.
"He will have cause to know me before many hours have passed," I declared savagely.
She clung to me in terror. "No, Jim. You must not go near him. You do not know the power he exercises. This afternoon I was sitting thinking of you when I became conscious that he was telling me to come to him. There was no reason why I should have thought so. He was not in sight, but I was bound to go."
"And you found him waiting for you?" I asked quietly, though my brain was aflame, for I was determined to ascertain all that had passed between them.
"He was waiting for me," she repeated—"waiting for me and the storm. That must have come at his bidding too. It was horrible waiting for him to speak—horrible! I tried to ask him what he wanted, but my tongue was tied. Not until after the first peal of thunder did he utter a word. Then he told me the time was nearly at hand when he should come for me." I clenched my fists involuntarily, but I did not interrupt my darling's story. "I begged of him to leave me free. He paid no heed. 'I am going away,' he said. 'For three days you will see nothing of me, though all England will betalking of my deeds. On the third I shall return. Mind you are ready.'"
"Did you not mention me?" I remarked weakly. I hardly knew what to say, for it seemed to me that either Evie must be the victim of some extraordinary hallucination, or else that Mannering was mad.
"He mentioned you," she replied. "'Tell Sutgrove,' he said, 'that he has three days in which to capture the Motor Pirate and make sure of his bride. After that he will be too late. Tell him, too, that death waits on the fool who fails.'"
"It's a sporting challenge," I muttered, for I had no doubt now in my mind that Mannering and the Pirate were identical.
My words did not reach Evie's ear, for she continued,
"Now you know why I have put away your ring. He is too strong for us. I must do as he bids me. I——"
I interrupted her sharply. "Have you everything packed to go away on your visit to Norfolk to-morrow?" I asked.
The tone of my voice roused her. She looked at me wildly.
"Why—why——" she said. Then the expression faded out of her face. For the second time that day she had fainted.
Thefainting fit which terminated my conversation with Evie alarmed me tremendously, and as soon as I could summon assistance I sent for a doctor. She came round before the medical man arrived, but I did not revert to the topic which had agitated her. Indeed, she appeared listless and disinclined to say a word on any subject. Colonel Maitland was less worried than myself, but even he was anxious until after the doctor had seen her and assured him that his daughter was merely suffering from over excitement, and that a sedative and a good night's rest would probably restore her completely.
I was not so sure that such would be the case, and when she had retired I thought it well to take the Colonel into his study and give him as full an account as I could of all that had led up to the fainting fit. He listened to my story with attention, and when I had done, though I could plainly see that he thought his daughter's fears were due to her own morbid fancy, yet he agreed with me that it would be well that she should have a change of scene at the earliest possible moment.
After arriving at this decision I determined to at once seek out Mannering, and demand from him some explanation of his conduct, for I could not conceive that Evie's story was entirely the outcome of her imagination. It was a delicate subject to discuss, yet I did not hesitate. I was in no humour to mince matters. My anger, though I had kept it well under control hitherto, only needed the slightest fanning to bring it to a white heat, and I longed whole-heartedly that Mannering would afford me some excuse for giving physical expression to my feelings.
I walked up to his front door, and knocked in a manner to denote with sufficient distinctiveness that the mood of the knocker was the imperative. I could see by the lights within that the inmates of the house had not retired to rest, but I had to repeat my summons before there was any response. Then I heard footsteps within, and the door opening an inch or two, a voice inquired who was there.
"Is Mr. Mannering in?" I demanded.
"Mr. Sutgrove, is it?" replied the voice, and upon my answering in the affirmative, the door was thrown open, and I saw the two maidservants standing in the hall.
"I beg your pardon, sir," said the parlourmaid. "We didn't expect any one at this time of night."
"That's all right," I answered. "Can I see Mr. Mannering?"
"He's gone away for a day or two, sir," said the girl.
"That's very sudden, isn't it?" I asked. "I saw him this afternoon."
"Yes, sir. He said nothing about it to us until after dinner. Then he packed his handbag and went away on his motor."
"It's a confounded nuisance," I remarked. "I wanted to see him on important business. Did he say where he was going?"
"He said Cromer, sir, but he did not leave any address."Then, after a momentary hesitation, she added, "Is—is anything wrong?"
I looked at her keenly. She dropped her eyes, and I could see there was something on her mind.
"What makes you ask?" I enquired.
"I—I don't know," she replied, with obvious embarrassment.
"There must be something or you would not have asked," I said encouragingly. "Come—out with it."
She still hesitated, but the housemaid was bolder. "I'll tell the gentleman if you don't, Sarah," she declared. "It's like this, sir," she rattled out volubly: "the master, Mr. Mannering that is, has been so queer in his ways lately that Sarah and me 'as been quite scared. Not that he 'asn't been quite the gentleman. He always was that, wasn't he, Sarah? But he's been that restless and bound up in himself lately—walking up and down in his room and talking to himself. He always was one to shut himself up in that nasty old coach-house with his experiments and things, but he was quiet, and wenever took no account of it. But lately he's been different."
"How?" I asked.
"Well, instead of going to bed like a Christian he's up all hours of the night. It ain't only that. He slips out as if he didn't want us to see him, and when we've known he hasn't been at home we've found he's taken the trouble to tumble the bed to make it appear as how he slept in it."
"Pooh!" I remarked. "If that's all, my servants would probably say the same about me. You need not be alarmed about such trifles."
"But it's not all," said Sarah, taking up the story. "The nights he goes out are just the nights the Pirate makes his appearance."
"Those are just the nights I am away from home," I said.
"But you have the detective gentleman with you," argued the girl, "and when you come back I warrant you do not bring diamond studs back with you that don't belong to you."
"What!" I cried. "What!"
"It's truth, sir," said the housemaid. "A week ago, just after he came back from Paris, I was sweeping the floor of his bedroom, when I sweeps up a diamond stud. Now, I knew he never had such a thing——"
"I suppose you know exactly what jewellery he has?" I interrupted, laughing.
"He always was a very careless gentleman until thelast month, before which he left his things lying about all over the place, but then he had a safe put in his bedroom, and he never so much as left the key lying about. However, I mentions the stud to Sarah, and we talks it over and puts two and two together, and Sarah thinks that if he doesn't ask what has become of it, it might be as well as if we told the detective gentleman about it."
"Quite right," I remarked. "You might let me look at the stud, though."
After a little pressing the girls fetched the trinket, and I perceived that it very closely resembled the stud Winter had worn on the night of our first encounter with the Pirate. I said nothing about this supposition to the maids, but bidding them to be careful not to mention the matter to any one until they had seen Forrest, whom I promised should call upon them, I left the house.
Though disappointed in my original intention of forcing an explanation from Mannering, I was by no means ill pleased with the result of my visit to his house. My suspicions as to his identity with the Pirate had become considerably stronger, and once that identity was established I fancied I should have little difficulty in preventing any further annoyance at his hands.
Yet when I came to think calmly upon the subject I could not fail to see how frail was the foundation upon which my suspicions were built up. The fancies of a girl, the suspicions of a couple of gossiping servants, and the discovery of a stud, which might or might notprove to be the one which had been stolen from Winter. I longed for Forrest to return, for I felt utterly incapable of resting, and as he had not put in an appearance by midnight, I got out my car and went into St. Albans to meet him. At the police station there was no news of him to be obtained, but I did learn that the Pirate had been seen, his presence having been reported from the vicinity of Bedford.
Knowing that it would be impossible for me to sleep until I had seen Forrest; knowing, too, how unlikely it was that he would now return to St. Albans before morning, I thought I might at least have one shot on my own account of bringing off the capture I so ardently desired. So, in case of an untoward accident happening, I scribbled a note to the detective, telling him briefly what I had heard from the servants, and my intentions; and making sure that my revolver was in working order, I bade my friends at the police-station good night, and departed.
I knew it would be useless to take the direct road to Bedford if I wished to meet the Pirate, and, as he had been reported going east, I took the route through Hertford, trusting that I might be able to cut him off upon his return. I gleaned nothing concerning him at either Hertford or Ware, and was so doubtful of proceeding further in that direction that I left it to the arbitrament of a coin to determine whether I should go on by a road with which I was unacquainted to Cambridge through Bishop's Stortford, or take a route I knew through Royston. The choice fell upon the Stortford road, and later I wasglad I had taken it, for about a mile to the south of Stortford I discovered that I was upon the right track.
I was bowling along at about fifteen miles an hour when I came upon two horses grazing at the road-side. They galloped off at my approach, and, a few seconds later, I came upon a specimen of the Pirate's handiwork, which at first sight was irresistibly ludicrous. A brougham was drawn up at the side of the road, and, bound to the wheels, were a coachman and a footman, clad in gorgeous liveries. The coachman was fat and florid, the footman a particularly fine specimen of flunkeydom, and their faces, as the light of my lamps fell upon them—they could not speak, for they were both gagged as well as bound—were so convulsed with terror, that I could see they did not look upon me as a friend. As I dismounted from my car to go to their assistance, I heard a dismal wail from the roof of the vehicle and, looking up, I perceived a portly old lady perched upon the uncomfortable eminence.
I made an attempt to explain that my intentions were purely pacific, but as I could elicit nothing from the old lady but appeals to spare her life, I turned my attention to the two men, and speedily released them from their bonds. By the time they were loose they had realized that I was a friend; but it was some time before I managed to obtain from them an account of how they got into such a mess. Even when their powers of speech had returned they were unable to give a lucid account of the affair.
Of course it was the work of the Pirate. They hadbeen returning with their mistress—the old lady on the roof of the brougham—from some local coming-of-age festivities, when they had met the rascal. He had bound the servants, set the horses free, and, after robbing the old lady of all the jewellery she wore, he had compelled her to climb to the position where I discovered her, threatening to return and kill her if she moved from her position for an hour. It needed much persuasion before she ventured to descend from her perch; but with the assistance of the coachman, I managed to get her inside the brougham, and further assisting in securing the two horses, I left them.
This incident delayed me for nearly half an hour, and it was a good deal past one before I again set out on my quest. The brougham had been stopped just near a bye-road, and as the footman had assured me that the Pirate had taken this path when he departed, I thought I would follow. I could see for myself that a motor-car had passed that way, for the thunderstorm of the previous day had left the roads heavy in places, and the marks of his tyres were plainly visible.
I had followed the road for about a couple of miles further when I came once more upon some of the Pirate's victims. These, too, were returning from the same function at which the old lady had been a guest, when they fell into the clutches of the Pirate. In this case my assistance was not required, for the two young ladies of the party had recovered sufficiently from their fright to have already set at liberty their male companionand the coachman. They told me of their experiences, and after I had heard them, I thought that Forrest's idea that the Pirate was a madman more likely than I had done previously.
When stopped by the Pirate, the husband of one of the ladies had shown fight until he had been felled by a blow from the butt end of a revolver. The coachman had discreetly made no resistance. Then, after securing the jewels the women wore, the Pirate had displayed a freakish humour quite new to his character. He had insisted upon the two women dancing for his amusement in the road, threatening to shoot the husband if they did not comply with his request. They assured me that he had sat chuckling with laughter, and urging them on with all sorts of wild threats, until they fell from exhaustion. They were splashed with mud from head to foot, and their dainty frocks presented a sorry sight. In addition they told me that they could barely stand, for their feet were cut to pieces, since, at the first steps of the weird dance, their slippers had stuck in the mud, and they were given no opportunity to stop and recover them.
I did not wait to hear more than the barest outline of the story, for I learned that he had left them not more than ten minutes before my arrival on the scene, and with the heavy roads, I thought there was at least a chance of some lucky accident bringing me face to face with my quarry.